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reiderwriter · 8 months

Text

More Than Words

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU!Reader

Requested: yes

Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, your forced to beg your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.

Warnings: Light smut at the end, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.

A/N: Thank you for the request on this one! Ever since I rewatched Season 7 and saw Spencer dancing with everyone at JJ's wedding I've been thinking non-stop about him just holding you close like that and I'm going to shut up now because 8k words of that is more than enough lmao.

You can find my masterlist here, and I just started posting all my stuff on AO3 as well, so if you prefer to read there, check it out!

Despite knowing about your brother’s impending nuptials for the last 18 months, it was in the final two-week stretch that you actually started panicking about getting the date that you’d promised them. It was one sweet little white lie that you had made that had just spiraled out of control, but you’d yet to actually manifest the secretive boyfriend who was “very real actually, mom, he’s coming to the wedding actually.”

It was that statement that had sealed your fate, and always one to wear your emotions on your face when you weren’t on a case, it wasn’t long before someone noticed your building anxiety and guilt.

“Okay, spill Y/N. You look like you just witnessed your favorite author kick a puppy or a kitten or something,” Penelope said when you dropped some files off in her room that morning, spinning around on her chair to face you as soon as she caught your reflection in her monitor.

“It’s this wedding I have to go to,” you sighed dramatically, falling into one of the other chairs in the room kept for visitors.

“Want me to help you get out of it?” Penelope offered, patting your hand comfortingly.

“I’m not sure my brother would be too pleased about that, since it’s his wedding and all. My mother would drag me down all the way from here herself if she had to.”

“Okay, so a no-show is a no-go. Then what gives, my sweet avenging angel? There has to be something serious to get you looking all glum.”

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair before straightening up and leaning into Penelope more, creating an air of secrecy.

“Promise you won’t tell?”

“Oh sweetie, if only you knew the secrets these four walls held,” she replied dramatically, pulling a laugh from you.

“Last year, I was so, I don’t know, jealous I guess, of all the attention my brother and his fiancee were getting because of the wedding, and it just felt like every time my mom called me, she would only want to talk about them because of the wedding. I felt left out, and I already live so far away anyway, so it’s hard to have that connection with people back home, so I might have told a small, tiny, inconsequential lie that now actually has consequences?” Your face flushes at the confession, and you can see Penelope trying her best not to blurt out her thoughts, intent on letting you continue.

“I told her I was seeing this guy. He’s amazing, he works in the FBI just like me, and he’s smart, and he takes me on dates to these amazing places, like museums and interesting restaurants and to book fairs. I told her he was handsome and that he looked at me like I put the stars in the night sky, and he just doesn't exist, Penelope. And now I have to disappoint my mother again by turning up to my brother's wedding without a date.”

“Oh sweetheart,” was all she said for a minute, and the sympathetic look on her face made you want to run out of there immediately.

“I know, I know, I need to tell her the truth, but I don’t want to do it at the wedding and spoil her happiness. She loves weddings.”

“And this fake boyfriend is supposed to be your plus-one?” she asked.

“My invitation read ‘To our darling sister and her mystery man,’” you groaned, wondering how you could have been so childish in the first place. You’d acted like any child on a playground would, inventing lies to make yourself seem more important and cooler.

“I think I have the perfect solution for you, angel, but you might not like it,” Penelope grinned from her chair, leaning back and playing with the pen in her hands nefariously as if she’d been waiting for this chance her whole life. You didn’t trust that look, but you had no other option, so you took a deep breath and listened to her plan.

–X–

Three days later, and you were suddenly pacing the hallways with a coffee and a croissant, poised and ready to kidnap an FBI Agent the second he passed you.

At first, you’d laughed at the suggestion she’d made, outlandish as it was. But 72 hours of reflection, and a timely phone call from your mother, and suddenly you were on board and ready to lock on to your target. You stopped pacing when you heard the elevator ding, signaling the arrival of Spencer Reid. You were thankful that his schedule was so regular and timed down to the minute that you had just enough time to ambush him in the hallway before any other member of your team noticed.

“Spencer! Here I bought you coffee and a croissant from that cafe I mentioned a while back,” you panicked, unloading the gifts into his arms quickly, taking him off guard, before checking left and right before pushing him into the nearest empty room and shutting it behind you.

“Good morning to you, too, Y/N. Is there a reason we’re in a closet right now?” he asked, looking down at you with knitted eyebrows.

“Yes,” you gumped, afraid to say anymore.

“Are you going to tell me what the reason is?”

“I need you to be my boyfriend for a weekend,” you finally blurted out.

“You need me to… Just for a weekend?” He looked confused, and you felt your cheeks flame up, as you tried your best to explain the situation for him.

“My brother is getting married in LA this weekend, and I need a date. I told my mom last year that I was in a relationship with a really great guy who also works for the FBI.”

“Oh. So, you broke up with him and don’t want to tell your mom?”

“No, he never existed. Long story, I can explain on the plane, but I really need you to come with me! I’ll pay for everything, and I’ll even get you this coffee and any pastry of your choice every day for a month, please, please, please!” You begged him, so desperate that you were moments away from dropping to your knees and grabbing his leg, refusing to move until he acquiesced. You didn’t have to in the end.

“Oh, sure, I’ll go. When did you say it was?” Your jaw fell open in shock, and it took a few seconds to pull yourself back together as you reacted to his words.

“This weekend? The flight is tomorrow at 6 a.m.” You smiled sheepishly as his eyes bugged out of his head.

“This weekend? What were you going to do if I said no?” He laughed at you a little, taking a sip of the coffee you bought him.

“Honestly? Plan B was to cry, and plan C was to kill off my mystery man in a freak accident.”

“Wow, we just started fake dating and you’re already trying to bump me off.” His smile made you burn hotter than before, as you playfully hit his arm in response.

“Stop saying we’re dating. I pulled you in here to ask you privately because I didn’t want weird rumors circulating in the office,” you pouted.

“Then you better let me out of the closet, Y/N, before people think we’re doing something we shouldn’t be. At least three people saw you drag me in here, you know.”

With that, you rush to open the door and run out, shouting a reminder back at him.

“Just be ready, okay. I’ll see you at the airport at 6 a.m.”

–X–

The flight, despite being ridiculously long, was altogether quite pleasant, and you made it back to California in one piece, Spencer trailing behind you like a lost puppy for a while, letting you take up the role of “airport dad” as you guided him through the airport and to the hotel where the wedding was being held.

“So what’s our cover story?” He asked in the taxi on the way there, breaking the comfortable silence.

“What cover story?” you asked, looking up at him from your phone, still focused on just getting to the destination.

“Where did we meet, how long have we been dating, how much do they know about me?” He listed off the possible questions that his parents were absolutely going to interrogate him with soon. “I need to prepare so we don’t get caught out, right?”

“Oh, right. Based on what I told them, we met at work and we’ve been seeing each other casually for about a year now. I didn’t give them a name yet, which annoys my mom to no end, but I was always pretty private as a child so she didn’t find it all that suspicious. Other than that, they don’t know that much about my mystery boyfriend apart from the things we’ve done together.” He listened attentively as you spoke, taking each of your words in and committing them to memory.

“What was our first date?” He asked.

“Coffee shop. That place I got you the coffee from earlier, it’s called Flondon. I’m a regular there, so it made sense to use it in my story.”

“What else have we done together?”

“There was a book fair in New York a few months back that we, uh, spent the weekend at. You surprised me for my birthday with the tickets.”

“Wow, so I’m a really great boyfriend then.” He joked a little, and you let out another groan of annoyance at his teasing. You didn’t get the chance to finish your conversation though, as the taxi finally pulled up to the hotel.

You climbed out of the taxi after paying the driver, Spencer having already left to grab your bags, before walking into the foyer of the hotel.

“Y/N, just one last thing before we go in,” he stopped you at the door, grabbing you by the arm gently. “Are we… the, um. Hotels tend to get booked up pretty early for weddings, and I’m sure your family will be suspicious if we don’t share a room so…”

He didn’t have to finish voicing his thoughts before you were cursing, not having made the connection before.

“Shit, you’re right. My brother made the booking for me months ago. We just have to go in and get the room key but I totally forgot… It’s fine, right? We’ve roomed together on cases, haven’t we?” You asked, looking up at him.

“No, we haven’t. 67% of our motel bookings allow for single occupation rooms for Agents, I end up sharing a room with Morgan for 15% of overnight stays where double occupation is necessary, Hotch for another 17%, and the remaining 1% is made up of outliers where I had to share with Rossi or Prentiss, but we…we haven’t shared before.” He gestured between the two of you for a moment there, letting the facts sit with you.

“Spencer, it’s okay with me, is it okay with you? I understand if you’re not comfortable with it. We can just turn around now if you want.”

“No, no it’s totally fine. I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable with it. Morgan says I snore, so I guess I’m not the best roommate in the world.” He smiled at you then, reassuringly, and moved his hand down your arm until it reached your hand.

You looked down at where his hand had entwined with yours and your heart gave a little jolt. Spencer didn’t like physical touch, and you knew that. You tried not to initiate any contact with him, despite being a touchy person, but there had been times after particularly tough cases and with close calls where you’d thrown yourself into the nearest person's arms, and he always happened to be near.

But those hugs had been thoughtless, natural reactions to stressful situations and this was intentional, and more importantly, he’d started it.

“Sorry, I just assumed we should get used to, uh, touching each other, I guess? We’re going to be doing it all weekend, you know, might as well start now.” He gave you an awkward closed-lip smile, and you giggled at his awkward explanatory tone. Squeezing his hand a bit, you grabbed your suitcase again in your free hand, and pushed open the door with your shoulder, pulling Spencer in behind you.

The lobby was filled with people arriving for the wedding, and you instantly spotted three cousins and two aunts from across the room, giving them a little smile as you made your way to the reception desk, Spencer right at your side.

“Hi, reservation for Y/N L/N, please.”

“Sister of the groom, right? Your mother asked me to give her a call when you arrived. Please wait one minute.” She handed you your key, and you felt yourself go pale, turning around to Spencer for reassurance.

“Oh god, she’s coming now, what do we do?”

“Y/N, calm down, it’s okay, we knew we were going to have to see your mom tonight at the reception anyways.”

“You’re right. Okay, right. Okay.” You breathed out, as Spencer wrapped his other arm around you, holding you in a closer embrace while keeping your hands locked together.

“One of my aunts is looking at us. She looks like she wants to say something. Oh god, she’s coming over, Spencer act natural,”

“Saying act naturally is actually counter-active-” but he didn’t have time to finish before you had turned to greet the older woman, disentangling yourself from Spencer’s arms as you hugged the woman warmly.

“It’s so good to see you, Y/N, you know how we all worry about you doing that job of yours. The other week we saw you on the news about that tragedy with the young girl…” she trailed off, giving you a worrying look before quickly shifting her gaze to her actual target, Spencer.

“I think I saw you too, young man. You must be Y/N’s boyfriend,” she smiled at him, waiting to hear a response so she could return to the other matrons with the gossip.

“Yeah, nice to meet you, I’m Spencer.” You could tell he was thankful that the woman hadn’t stuck her hand out to shake his, as he positioned himself mostly behind you, keeping his hands occupied by letting one settle on your hip and the other keeping a hold of your suitcase.

“Spencer? Spencer Reid?” You heard your mother before you saw her, turning around in your place to finally see her, as Spencer whipped his head around as well. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.”

Your mother had none of the restraint of your aunt, and unfortunately, you’d inherited your clingy side from her, which is why she immediately swooped in to give Spencer a hug. To his credit, he greeted her warmly as well and didn’t avoid the touch, but he kept it short and polite nonetheless.

“Mom, how did you know…”

“You tell me about your coworkers all the time, I’m just surprised I didn’t work it out sooner. I always said that you talked about that Spencer with a fond tone, you should ask your father, he’ll tell you that I did.” You rolled your eyes at your mother’s words, doing your best to avoid Spencer’s gaze. He’d fallen back into place by your side as you greeted your mother.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, You know, Y/N has been keeping you as this big secret for the last year, and it’s so nice to see that you’re actually real. You’re here!” She sounded so excited for you that your heart almost broke under the weight of your guilt, knowing that you’d have to come clean at some point after the wedding. As it was, you were already going to have to try really hard to avoid the photographer and videographer throughout the night so you didn’t have to be constantly reminded of your idiocy whenever your mother got the photo albums out,

“Sorry, the two of you are probably exhausted after that flight, right? Go and get yourself unpacked. The rehearsal dinner is at 8 p.m. so we’ll catch up then, sweetheart.” She left in a whirlwind, having deposited you next to the elevators, and left you with no other option but to do exactly as she said, making your way to your space for the weekend.

–X–

The following few hours had been a little awkward, to say the least. You’d awkwardly pulled away from one another in the elevator up to the room, apologizing for invading each other's personal space. The room was a decent size, but still small enough that you’d be constantly tripping up over one another the entire weekend if you weren’t careful.

Reid carefully unpacked his tuxedo when you got into the room, and then quietly informed you that he’d need a shower. You’d unpacked your own things while he did, trying not to listen to the water flowing over his body in the next room. His earlier touch had ignited something in you, and your heart was beating at his every gesture now, something that you were sure it hadn’t done before.

What was it about weddings that made you so open to even the possibility of romance that even someone so off-limits could become the object of your affection?

So you tried not to listen, not to wonder why it was taking the man so long to just take a shower, not to let your mind wander to a place where it was perfectly acceptable to wonder what he looked like in that shower, and you unpacked and organized your things.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m really sorry but I forgot to bring my clothes with me,” he called awkwardly through the door a few minutes after you heard the water turn off, and you turned to the bathroom, not expecting the sight before you.

You’d assumed from the quiet volume of his voice that he was calling from within the bathroom itself, but instead, he stood awkwardly in front of you, a towel wrapped around his waist and torso, held together desperately in one hand.

“Oh shit, sorry, I’ll just turn around, I guess,” you stumbled over the words, dragging your eyes back up to his face as you did so, whipping yourself around to stare ahead of you.

“No, no, it’s my fault. I was so hasty I forgot my outfit for tonight. It’s okay.” You heard him fumble for his clothes and return to the bathroom quickly with another mumbled apology, finally allowing you to let out a deep, almost dreamy sigh, startling yourself. Mentally chastising yourself once again, you finished your organizing and let yourself fall onto the bed in the middle of the room sleepily while you waited for him to come out again.

You must have dozed off a little because you woke with a jolt when you felt a soft touch on your arm. There he was above you, a soft and concerned look on his face as he woke you up as kindly as he could.

“Y/N, it’s 7 p.m. We need to get ready for the rehearsal.” He whispered as if he weren’t too bothered if you didn’t want to go down at all, content to let you sleep. But you forced yourself upright anyways, and nodded at his words, swiftly moving yourself towards the bathroom he had since departed.

“Thanks for waking me, Spence,” You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, gathering your towels and change of clothes before turning back to him. In the four hours you’d apparently been dead to the world, he’d managed to dry his hair, change his clothes, and, from the looks of the book on the bedside table, read through an entire book twice.

He noticed you looking and cleared his throat. “Sorry, you looked so tired I didn’t want to wake you, so I just sat here and read while you got some sleep.”

“It’s okay, Spence. I guess I was pretty tired. I’m gonna go…” you gestured towards the shower and stepped towards it with an awkward smile, not letting him answer before you had closed the door between you and taken a deep breath, setting thoughts of him aside for the night before you focused on getting yourself ready to face your lies.

An hour later, you were making your way back down to the lobby, having received a text from your brother that that was where everyone was gathering before making their way to the dining room. Spencer offered you his arm in the elevator on the way down.

“Here, grab my arm.” He said softly down to you, a sweet smile playing on his lips.

“Oh yeah that makes sense,” you said distractedly, looping your own through his and leaning into him.

“It’ll also stop you from picking your nails,” he joked.

“I don’t pick my nails!”

“You so do. You do it when you’re nervous and when you lie about something. Last month on that case in Chicago when that officer asked for your number, you told him you had a boyfriend and started picking your nails,” he laughed down at you, enjoying your pouting face a bit too much as he profiled you.

“You’re one to talk. The last time a woman asked you out, you started rambling about the linguistic history of the phrase “go out,” in the romantic sense. She stood there for five minutes before she gave up.”

“Wait, when did that happen? I don’t remember any woman trying to ask me out.”

“Then you’re even denser than I realized, Doctor Reid, because they do it constantly.” Your back and forth ended there, though, as the elevator doors finally opened into the lobby. You smoothed out your dress and tried your best to act natural as the two of you made your entrance.

“Y/N! Over here,” you heard your brother and saw him wave at you from the other side of the room, his fiancee next to him receiving guests.

“It’s been so long since I saw my kid sister. Get over here,” he smiled at you, beckoning you over, and you released your hold on Reid to give your brother a warm hug.

“Now who is this kid sister you’re talking about because last I checked you’re only 18 months older than me.”

“18 months, 18 years, all that matters is that I am, in fact, the older one,” he released you from the bear hug and glanced up to Reid, standing awkwardly watching the scene waiting for an invitation to the conversation. “Holy shit, you’re real.”

“Hey! Be nice. This is Spencer, he’s my… he’s my boyfriend, we work together.” You felt your cheeks flame as you introduced the two of them, your brother looking at Spencer through knitted eyebrows, taking on a faux protective stance.

“Spencer, hey. Mom mentioned you were here earlier, but I didn’t think you’d be so gangly… It’s my wedding, and I’ve been told I have to keep all threats to a minimum, but if I see you getting all handsy with my sister, just know that I have a blackbelt in jiu-jitsu.”

“No, you don’t. You have a yellow belt in karate at most, and you got that at age 10.” You laughed at the man.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Oh my god, it’s been almost 20 years, I already apologized!”

“Apologised for what?” Spencer finally managed to butt in, watching your sibling bickering as if it were a tennis match.

“This little rodent,” your brother said, scruffing up your hair as he spoke, “broke my wrist when she was 8 and I was 10.”

“It was self-defense! You were trying to use your karate moves on me and I panicked!”

“And now, you’re a hot-shot FBI Agent and you get to break bad guys wrists all the time.” He finished for you and you laughed, suddenly glad to be back around family.

“So, Spencer, you’re an FBI Agent, too? I thought my mom mentioned something about you being a Doctor earlier.”

“I am. A Doctor. And an FBI Agent, uh, they’re PhD’s not medical degrees, though. Three of them, Math, Chemistry and Engineering. I also have Bachelor's Degrees in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology.” He answered, and you looked up at him proudly, taking his hand as you noticed him growing slightly uncomfortable with the attention from your brother.

“Wow,” was all your brother said, until he finished the statement with “All those degrees and my sister was the best you could do, huh?” You punched him in the arm after that, and you felt Spencer physically relax a bit, twinning your fingers with his as you chastised your brother.

“Anyway, thanks for taking the time to come to our, hopefully, lovely wedding, the reception will be starting soon. The dining hall is just through there.” You hugged your brother again, and, with a breath of relief, led Spencer down the hall to the dining hall.

“That went well, I think?” you whispered to him, conspiratorially.

“Your family is nice,” he replied. “Does he always act like that, or is it the wedding spirit possessing him somehow?”

“If you’re referring to my brother, I think he’s probably partaken in a few flutes of champagne already this evening. But yes, he’s always like that. They all like to treat me like a baby when they see me.”

“I think it’s nice. They care about you a lot,” his words were warm, but his eyes were sad, and you remembered what you’d been told of Spencer’s own childhood and felt your heart ache for him. His mom loved him a lot, but Spencer had needed to grow up much too fast. You squeezed his hand, still clasped in yours and before you knew it you were pushing onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, Spencer. For being here,” you said as his now flushed face met yours. You didn’t let him respond though, simply pushing forward into the dining hall, ready to live in the fantasy of your own making for the evening.

–X–

“Spencer, you were amazing!” You giggled, walking down the hall to your room, stumbling slightly in your excitement and haste.

“Those magic tricks? The little babies couldn’t get enough of you,” you spun around, wrapping your arms around the man’s neck and pulling him in close to you, letting him hold you against the door to your room. He laughed a little at your antics as he pulled out the key card.

“Y/N, are you drunk?” he asked, one hand firmly planted on your waist to steady you now.

“No! I’m just happy. And if that happiness was caused by an array of cocktails forced into my hands by distant aunts and cousins who all wanted to know about my absolute catch of a boyfriend, then that is simply secondary to the feeling itself. And furthermore-” He pushed the door behind you in on itself, and your words were cut off by your legs giving out beneath you.

You were so sure you were about to take a tumble to the floor that you shut your eyes tight and braced for an impact that didn’t come. Opening them again slowly, you saw Spencer closer than before, his face mere inches from your own as he held you in an improvised dip, having caught you just before you’d hit the ground.

“Sorry. I… Shit, maybe I am drunk,” you breathed out, not letting your eyes drift from his own, knowing that if you ever considered a glance down at his lips at that moment, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from closing the measly distance separating you.

“You should use the bathroom first,” he told you, but without making any move of his own, stuck in that pose with you as if he was content to stay there for as long as he could hold you. “You should take your make-up off. We have a long day tomorrow, right?”

You were the first one to move, letting your feet find a more solid footing beneath you and twisting up from his grip. His hands didn’t leave your body as you became more upright though, still keeping you in that close embrace.

“Yeah, I should… I should go wash up.” You said, and he nodded, still looking at you with the same intensity as before.

“Spencer, that means you need to move,” you whispered quietly, and he jumped back as soon as the words were out of your mouth.

“Sorry. I’ll just… I’ll just be over there,” he held his hands up in surrender before moving further into the room, leaving you next to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom and were ready to sleep once again. Thankfully, you of earlier that day had managed to store your pajamas in the bathroom ready for their use. Upon exiting the bathroom, you saw that Spencer was getting ready to sleep too, slacks and a shirt having been replaced by a pair of flannel pants and a very old and beaten-up CalTech sweater, looking perplexedly down at the bed.

“Spence, what’s wrong?”

“We didn’t speak any further about the sleeping arrangements…” he mumbled and you looked at the bed in front of you, still confused at his meaning. “Y/N, we have to share the bed.”

“Oh.” You knew you probably sounded dumb, but after the amount of alcohol thrust upon you that night, that was all you could muster at this point.

“I can sleep on the floor if that makes you feel more comfortable. It’s probably no worse than some of the motel beds we’ve stayed on before,” he offered, but you instantly shook your head.

“No, I dragged you out here, I’m not making you sleep on the floor as well,” you sighed and made your way to the side of the bed you’d slept on earlier, beginning to pull the covers down so you could get in.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, perplexed by your somehow contrasting words and actions.

“I’m getting ready for bed. It’s late.” You replied, not looking up at him again, for fear that he’d spot the blush on your face. “You should too,” you continued, patting the other side of the bed, gesturing for him to get in, too.

“Oh.” It was his turn to stand there shell-shocked in the moment, and you almost let out a giggle but held back thinking that would be too much for him to take in at that moment.

“Come on, Spence, I’m tired, I’m sure you’re tired. We’re just sharing a bed, it’s not like you have to marry me after this.” You climbed fully into the bed, making sure that your nightgown covered you decently before pulling the covers up around you. Spencer mumbled something that you didn’t catch, but he acquiesced and climbed in after you. You turned your head over on the pillow to face him, turning onto your side as you watched him turn his head to you as well.

“What?” he smiled, noticing your stare.

“Nothing. Good night, Spence,” you smiled, finally letting your eyes drop closed.

“Good night, Y/N.” He whispered, and the sound of his voice carried you off to sleep.

–X–

You weren’t sure if it was the light streaming in through the window or the rise and fall of a chest that wasn’t your own was the first thing to wake you in the morning, but nonetheless, you woke from the comfortable warmth of sleep and found yourself wrapped around your fake boyfriend.

To be fair to yourself, he was also wrapped around you. Your head had gravitated from your pillow to his chest, his left arm wrapped up and around your back. Your leg had also risen in the night, pulled up over his waist, held in place by his other arm, which was, almost embarrassingly, cradling your ass, pulling you in closer to his core. Unsure about how to go about disentangling yourself, you resigned yourself to just waking the man up.

“Spencer… Spencer,” you whispered, letting the hand that had fallen onto his chest tap him slightly. He stirred a little and then cracked an eye open, looking confused with the situation.

“Y/N, is it time for the wedding?” He asked through half-lidded eyes, evidently wanting nothing more than to fall back into whatever dreams he was having. You shifted uncomfortably in his arms then, suddenly growing stiff in the position you’d probably held for hours, and found your nightgown had risen dangerously high on your body, his hand on your near bare ass.

“No, no, it’s just…” You rolled your hips against his in discomfort, and the movement had his eyes breaking open as he finally took in your positions.

“Shit, I’m….Sorry, I don’t know what happened, I must’ve grabbed you when we were sleeping,” he said, reluctantly slipping his hands away from your body, trailing his hand around your leg, and letting it fall onto his stomach. The movement sent a shiver up your spine, as you finally had enough room to lift your torso up, not quite ready to relinquish the proximity of your entire body yet.

“It’s okay, I think it was probably me who started it in the first place. Those pillows weren’t that comfortable…” you tried to explain, the hand on his chest rubbing slow circles into his skin before you could realize what you were doing.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position then as well, clumsily. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, you had no choice but to move with him, suddenly finding yourself straddling him, the bedsheets suddenly pressed away from your body. If he looked down, he’d see a lot more than you planned for him to see, your panties on clear display as your nightgown twisted itself up into the sheets.

“Shit sorry,” he moaned out again, as you steadied yourself with hands on his shoulders.

“No, it’s okay, I didn’t move quick enough.” You quickly pulled your dress down again, and extracted yourself from the bed, lifting your leg up and off of him and finally pushing off the bed, leaving him sat there.

His hands fell into his lap and you started gathering things around the room, readying yourself for the busy day ahead.

“I have to be in the bridal suite at 11, so we have about… two hours to kill before then. Do you want to grab a shower first, or should I?”

“You first,” he mumbled quickly, before clearing his throat and trying again. “You should go first. You probably have more to do today, right?” You nodded at his words and made your way to the bathroom again. Out of the corner of your eye though, as you let the door close behind you, you watched his hands come up to cradle his flushed face, as he let his head fall back again into the pillow.

–X–

The morning was so busy after that, you barely had any chance to talk to Spencer again. You spent the early afternoon in the bridal suite with the wedding party, welcoming your new sister to the family, then made your way to the aisle space set up outside, checking up on last-minute details and helping to flower girls into position. You weren’t walking down the aisle yourself, but you could see that the extra help was letting the very stressed-out Maid of Honour get some well-needed respite. And more importantly, it stopped your wandering thoughts from letting you fantasize about Spencer.

You’d woken up in bed next to people before, of course, but it had never felt so comfortable. In fact, other people you’d slept with said you were pretty distant in your sleep, choosing to move as far away from physical touch as you could get, but you knew with no doubt that you had been the one to move in first, to touch him first. That he’d pulled you even closer had your heart singing, and you wanted to be wrapped up in him all over again, suddenly desperate to seek him out. So you distracted yourself, not wanting to make any mistakes you would regret when you were no longer wrapped up in your own fantasy.

So you kept your distance as the ceremony started. Then the wedding march was playing, and you were holding back tears as his hand slipped into yours, your head falling onto his shoulder as you watched your brother marry the love of his life.

You kept your distance as you reached the reception hall, watching all the old ladies on both sides fawn over him, asking him questions, and watching from his side as he blushed at the attention. You swept the hair out of his eyes as the couple was announced, and you took your seat for the wedding meal and the speeches, his hand falling to your back to guide you to your chair, pulling it out for you like a true gentleman.

You kept your distance as your new sister tossed the bouquet, and despite your low effort and the ravenous looks of the bridesmaids, it fell neatly into your hands as if it belonged there. You ran excitedly over to him to show him and he lifted you into a hug, caught up in your own excitement.

You kept your distance until you realized you’d not kept your distance at all, physically unable to keep yourself away from the man who had somehow stolen your heart in the middle of the night.

“I know that look,” your brother said, somehow sneaking up on you later into the night as you watched Spencer perform even more of his magic tricks for the smaller guests.

“What look?” you asked, not for one second letting your eyes drift from Spencer.

“You’re in love with him,” he said, taking a swig of the drink in his hand.

“He’s my boyfriend,” you said reflexively, turning to the drinks table behind you and picking up one for yourself.

“No, he isn’t. Or at least he wasn’t before this weekend,” your brother said, as your eyes finally snapped up to him.

“Oh, don’t act all surprised, Miss FBI Profiler. You may be good, but I’ll always be your older brother, and contrary to popular opinion, I do in fact pay attention to things.” You sighed and leaned back against the table.

“How’d you figure it out?”

“You were picking your nails the entire way through the reception dinner when the aunties were asking you about your relationship. You did that when we were younger too, when you tried lying to Mom and Dad about how I broke my wrist. Doesn’t take two PhD’s to figure that out.”

“Three.”

“Three what?”

“Three PhDs. He has three of them.” You sighed dreamily and ran a stressed hand through your head.

“He’s just my coworker. I didn’t want to disappoint Mom by coming alone after telling her all those stories, but now…” You tried to explain yourself but words were escaping you in that moment.

“You should tell him, trust me. He definitely feels the same.”

“How are you so confident about that? How did you manage to end up with all of the confidence between the two of us, when I can barely work up the courage to tell my own mother I’m still single?”

“Y/N, look at me. You got the brains, I had to have something. And no man flies to the opposite side of the country on a few day's notice for a girl who is just a friend, okay? That’s more logic than confidence, and that’s supposed to be your strong suit.”

You considered his words for a second, turning back to look at Spencer. Evidently, he’d finished his magic show and was beginning to say goodbye to the children, but he felt your eyes on him somehow and met your gaze. He brought his hand up into a shy wave before a little girl grabbed his attention again, and he looked at her seriously, nodding along to each word she was saying.

“Fuck, what do I do, I’m not good with… any of this.” You turned back to your brother, but he’d left you there, stranded in your own thoughts as you let yourself hope, let your brain dream that one day this would be your wedding and the man by your side would be Spencer Reid.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom request the presence of all the couples on the dancefloor for this next song.” You saw your brother again, next to his wife, whispering his explanations in his ear as she turned to look at you and winked as well. God, they were going to be a force to be reckoned with together now, you thought, as people started pushing past you to make their way to the dancefloor.

You recognized the song of course, and it was almost so on the nose you almost rolled your eyes. More Than Words by Extreme. Perfect.

“Y/N, may I have this dance?” He had somehow snuck up on you from behind as you watched your brother, and held his hand out to you. You put your drink down and took it, letting him lead you to the dance floor.

“I didn’t think you danced, Dr. Reid,” you teased him as he pulled you in, letting his hands rest on your waist, as yours came up around his neck, gently letting him sway you side to side in time with the music.

“I don’t really, but it seemed wrong not to,” he smiled. “I’m at a wedding, with the most beautiful girl on my arm, and the couple made it very clear that we should be dancing, so here I am.” You blushed at his words as he spoke. He removed his hands from your waist, instead grasping one of yours in his own as he pulled you closer.

You stared up at him with a soft smile for a few more seconds before letting your head fall back to his chest.

“I know I’ve said it a lot this weekend, but thank you, Spencer.” You said into his shirt, letting him hold you close as the song went on.

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N.” He insisted, and you looked up at him again. “Actually… I didn’t exactly agree to this with the best of intentions.”

Your heart lept to your throat as you stared up at him, hoping that he would take your silence as a means to continue.

“I’ve been… I thought that maybe…” he struggled to get the words out, his face aflame with the effort.

“You promised me those coffees right?” He finally stuttered out, and you were left confused and a little disappointed.

“Yeah, Spence, it’s okay, I’ll get you those coffees for the month, just like we promised.” You couldn’t help the sad smile that played on your lips as you answered him, so sure that he was about to say something else.

“No, I mean… Y/N I don’t want the coffee. I want this. I want us to go home, and make everything that you made up come true. I want to take you on a date to that coffee shop. I want to be a boyfriend you can call and tell your mom about because it’s serious and it’s going to work out between us. I even… God, I even spent the morning looking up book fairs in New York City so I could make that come true as well,” he rambled the words out and you could feel the tears forming in your eyes.

“Spencer,” you said softly, trying to get him to focus on you, but he’d started speaking and he wasn’t going to be stopped so easily.

“And if any of that creeps you out, just say the word and I’ll never mention it again. Because I know I’m not good with this, and when I feel something, I tend to feel it overwhelmingly, and Derek tells me I can be really oblivious sometimes, which I don’t really get, but-”

“Spencer,” you put a bit more force into your words this time, punctuating them with a hand on his face.

“Spencer, kiss me.” And he does. He takes your head in both of his hands, and he draws you up to him perfectly, letting your hands fall to the lapels of his suit jacket as he steals your breath away one more time. The kiss is lingering, but short, and he hesitantly backs away, looking around to spot witnesses. But you don’t care and you pull him back down for another, and another, until you’re just two lovers on the dance floor that cannot get enough of each other, gasping for breath between chaste kisses as you let him hold you there, gently swaying.

“Spencer,” you whisper finally, forehead resting on his, as the song finally draws to a close.

“Yes?”

“Spencer, take me to bed.” You tell him, and he nods. He leads you over to the bride and groom where you offer each of them a hug and a happy future before making your excuses and running away with Spencer back into the hotel like two love-drunk teenagers, a mess of giggles and stolen kisses as you stumble up to your room for the second time that weekend.

But this time, you don’t hesitate, don’t pull away. He backs you into the door and you let him hold you there, his mouth on yours, your tongues entwined as he fumbles for his key card. You fall together into the room, laughing and smiling the entire way, not letting him escape your touch.

“May I?” He asks, playing with the zipper of your dress as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck, anywhere you can reach, nodding and moaning your consent. The moment the zip is pulled down, he lets you go for a second, and the dress falls straight to the floor. You're practically bare in front of him, chest exposed, neck littered with the beginning of love bites that he’s about to absolutely build upon.

“You’re beautiful.” He says, softly, wrapping his arms around you again, lifting you up so your legs can wrap around him as he delivers one more soul-crushing kiss to your lips. Your brain is a mess of emotions, your only solid thought is that you will never let him go again. You both eagerly worked on unbuttoning his shirt together, a desperate mess of breaths as he finally laid you on the bed. His hand fell to your core, tracing a finger over your sensitive nub as you begged him for more, needing to feel all of him, to devour his very existence.

He pulled himself out of his remaining clothes, lips still attached to yours, climbing over you and holding you tenderly, his arms wrapping around your body as his legs came to settle between your own. Dropping his forehead to yours, he finally spoke again, his hand dropping between the two of you to line himself up.

“Is this… are you sure?” You heard the restraint in his voice, the desperation, the love, the overwhelming lust as he held himself back, needing to hear your consent.

“Spencer, I love you,” you whispered, and he finally pushed himself into you, joining the two of you together in a moment of bliss. You shared another sweet kiss, letting him swallow each and every one of your moans as he began thrusting into you, your hips rising to meet him in your delirious pleasure.

He whispered sweet nothings in your ears, brushing the hair off your face every now and again to tell you how beautiful you looked, and how well you were doing.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N, you’re doing so good for me,” he pressed kisses against your neck with each word, keeping his pace steady as you chased your inevitable high, already clenching around his thick cock.

“Spencer, I love you,” you let the words drop from your tongue like a prayer, repeating them over and over with each thrust as small tears welled up out of your eyes. He kissed them away from your cheeks, listening to each confession as your stomach tightened and your climax spilled over you. He grabbed your waist then, leaving one hand cupping and stroking your cheek as his own thrusts grew sloppy, finally spending himself fully inside you.

“I love you, too,” he whispered into you then, unwilling to let you go for even one second. You spent the rest of the night whispering the words back and forth to one another, waiting with bated breath for the fantasy to break, for the magic of the wedding to wear off.

It never did.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x oc #criminal minds smut #So much plot #maturereiding

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scarletttries · 3 months

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Roronoa Zoro Falling In Love Headcanons (One Piece)

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro (Live Action One Piece) x Reader

Rating: Fluff

Word Count: 1.6k

Author's Note: After lacking a bit of inspiration recently I just finished watching the live action One PIece on Netflix and am completely obsessed, especially with Zoro! So here a few little headcanons for him, and I might do a part two of relationship headcanons too. Also requests are now open for any of the one piece characters so send them in! 💗☺️

- Oh Zoro. Truly the epitome of a heart of gold hiding behind a sarcastic, borderline cold, facade. A man who pretends to be affected by nothing, despite having so much space inside him for friendship and devotion.

- Chances are he'd first come across you when he and Luffy are docked in another new town. Maybe you're a pirate whose name he's heard in passing and considers trying to capture for the bounty. Maybe you're someone who just loves and helps out the small seaside village you live in, trying to make a few Berry from the ships passing through. Maybe you're the next key step to reaching Monkey's dream of finding the piece. Whatever he expects to find when your paths cross, it certainly isn't you.

- Before he even knows you're the person he's looking for, one look at you and he knows you're important. Like you exist in a slightly brighter light than everyone else he's ever met before, and he's not sure if he should shield his eyes or if he can't bear to look away. He stops dead in his tracks at the sight of you, the first glimpse enough to have his heart pounding in his chest like it never has before. Luffy watches his usually stern friend let his mouth fall open in silence, baffled by his actions until Nami leans over and whispers to him. Zoro can't hear exactly what she says but he hears the word 'crush' and feels his stomach churn at the thought. He wants to run, but he's unsure whether he wants to go towards or away from you. He grips his white katana as a panicked instinct when finally you glance up and send a friendly smile to the eclectic group of pirates standing, staring at you.

- Luffy can tell before you ever say a word that you're good and kind, and destined to be aboard the Merry as a part of his crew. Zoro can't bring himself to do anything but loom over his captain as he makes a sales pitch. The part of his brain that likes to be in control hopes that you're busy and tied down, that you'll reject Luffy's offer and he'll never feel as shaken and desperate as he does in this moment again. A much bigger part of him knows that he won't survive if you say 'no'. Like without you he might never dream again, doomed to spend the rest of his days sailing aimlessly, searching for the same rush he feels every time you look up at him over his friends straw hat. Thankfully Monkey rarely asks someone to join his crew that he isn't certain will eventually say yes. And so you do, accepting it's time to try a new path and join this strange group of good-hearted sailors, hoping for a new shot at your dreams.

- Monkey, Sanji and Usopp are all friendly from the get-go. They can't wait to share stories of their journey so far, and make sure you feel as safe and at home on the ship as they do. Nami takes a bit longer to open up to you, but when she does you can understand why, and while her friendship is harder to earn, it feels all the more solid for it. And then there's Zoro.

- You notice that whenever you all walk into a room, he'll always take the position or chair next to you, awkwardly stepping in front of Sanji on more than one occasion, or forcing himself into a tight spot rather than create distance between the two of you. He doesn't often strike up conversation first, but when you ask him something about himself he always looks very relieved and happy to have something to talk to you about. If the group has to split up he'll always stick by your side, taking the role of keeping you safe to heart. Your unspoken bodyguard. It gets to the point that the crew adjust to leaving a spot next to you for him to settle into, and never asking him to go out without you. All the while Nami takes great joy in speculating on his behaviour with you, and teasing Zoro for his complete inability to act like a normal human being. Sanji has to lay off his harmless flirting with you after he notices the daggers Zoro's shooting at him, and he's sure one night at a bar he heard him start to draw his sword when he put a hand on your leg.

- It doesn't take many conversations with Zoro, or many chats with Luffy who spends a lot of his time telling you about how wonderful and impressive Zoro is, for you to start finding his strange behavior more than a little flattering. The tall, talented swordsman can't help but soften under your gaze, and you feel yourself slowly leaning closer to him every time he settles at your side, before long finding yourself practically draped against him when the group find themselves at some gaudy bar on the outskirts of a marine base, failing to keep a low profile. Usopp insists on dragging you onto the dancefloor, and thankfully Nami asks Zoro to come dance with her before he has to either sit without you, or volunteer to dance of his own volition. Despite his athleticism, of course he's a terrible dancer, all uncoordinated movements and awkward energy as he fails to copy Usopp's charismatic moves. Taking pity on him, you take his hand in yours, letting him hold you closer as the rest of the group seem to fade in the crowd behind you having seen more than enough of his desperate longing to stick around for this. As Sanji and Usopp slink off to find another drink, Nami and Luffy can't resist keeping just in view so they can watch on as they finally see Zoro smile widely and let his guard down, relaxing against you as the pair of you sway. Nami wants to make a bet on if Zoro finally gets the nerve to say something about his feelings, but after a few months of being her closest friend she decides to just root for you both instead, trying to pull Luffy just far enough away to give you two some much needed privacy.

- As you feel his arms encircle you, a soft sway in his hips that matches yours, his mouth drops open and closed a few times over. It's always hard for him to find the right thing to say to you, but when he has you this close, with your eyes sparkling up at him, it's almost impossible to even think. It's all consuming living on the same ship, his heart jumping in his chest every time someone enters his cabin in case it's you, his feet taking him to stand outside your quarters almost every day just willing himself to knock on the door and finally put words to his devoted actions. He couldn't fight his longing to be near you for even a day, and watching you open up to him and start to inch closer yourself, he can't help but hope that you might be feeling just a drop of the ocean of affection he navigates for you. His eyes focus intensely on yours as he tries again to speak, stumbling over the word 'I' a few times before resigning himself to silence for another night.

- You could see the conflict of fear and hope in his eyes, the man of few words clearly straining to explain things his training had never left room for. He was trying, and you were sure you knew what he was going to say, but you didn't think you could be the one to articulate it for him. That didn't mean you couldn't give him a bit of encouragement.

- Trailing your hands over his arms to settle on his shoulders, you stepped flush with his body, the extra contact enough to stop his gentle sway and turn his whole frame rigid. With the softest smile you could muster you leaned up onto your tiptoes, giving him a moment to pull away before letting your lips press softly to his. It was just for a second. A mere moment of soft, sweet, contact. The kind Zoro had never even let himself imagine because it felt so far out of reach for him. But it happened, and it was perfect. A wide grin spread over his face at your action, finally feeling like he might be able to share his life with someone other than the ghost he carried with him on his hip.

"WAHHOOOOOO!YES YES YES!"" A deafening cheer echoed through the bar, shaking the light fixtures and turning every single head towards your ecstatic captain. Nami looked mortified as Luffy continued to punch the air in celebration of his first mate finally achieving a dream a little less violent than he'd first set out for, his joy for his friend all consuming and without an ounce of tact.

"Luffy! Stop it! We'll leave you to it." Nami had to physically drag him away as you heard the unfamiliar sound of Zoro laughing to himself, the grin across his cheeks only spreading as his focus returned to you. Leaning back in to find your lips again, he whispered,

"What Luffy said."

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clxja16 · 9 months

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The Spoken Words

Lewis Hamilton X Reader

Genre: idk man

Warnings: suggestive(?), angst(?)

Word Count: 561

Author's Note: This is very different compared to what I would normally write. In my head it seems like a good idea, and I think you guys would love it but idk. I'm thinking of making a part two called the unspoken words, and it just this again with all the inner monologue to go along with it. idk, let me know what you guys think. honestly if this doesn't get like a 150 notes, I'm just gonna delete it and pretend it never existed.

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

The spoken words of an almost relationship;

“Just to be clear, we’re…”

“Friends,” you said calmly, with an all too knowing smile.

Lewis smirked at you. “Hmm, you weren’t saying that last night,” he says before walking away. Lewis was many things, but above all he knew how to be discrete. A quality that you were ever so grateful for.

“Just stay for the night,”

“We both know I shouldn’t do that.”

“No one will know,” Lewis says, as he pulls you closely to him in the bed. You can’t help but allow your eyes to close. Just for one more night, you’ll stay.

“Congratulations on the podium,” you say, as you and him walk side by side towards the hotel elevators.

Lewis smirked, “Do you want to help me celebrate tonight?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” you say as you begin to unbutton the blouse you were wearing.

“Lewis look at this,” you say, shoving your phone in his direction. At the worst timing ever you get a text notification from your partner back home.

“y/n,” Lewis says with a tone you can’t place.

“I’m sorry.”

“I told you before, this is not something serious Lewis.”

“Why can’t we change it to be serious?”

“I don’t want to fight anymore,” Lewis said, a few days after the initial fight.

“It wasn’t a fight,” you offer him a smile, “it was a heated conversation”

“If that’s what you want to call it,” he says with a smile as well.

“It is what I want to call it.” It’s time to let him go, but you’re not ready.

“Oh just like that,” you can’t help but moan out. You can hear Lewis scoff at you.

“I have to go,” you say to Lewis as he watches you pack your things. “Toto is sending me back to the factory.”

“For how long?”

“Just a couple weeks,” you smirk at Lewis, “I’ll be back.”

“Good.”

“I’m gonna extend my time at the factory,” you speak into the phone to Lewis.

“You said you were going to come back,”

“I am going to come back, just not as soon as I thought.”

“God, I missed you,” Lewis says, as he sees you waiting outside his hotel room. “When did you get here?”

“A few hours ago,” you say, revealing the luggage behind you.

“Let’s get inside,” Lewis opens the hotel room door for you.

“Oh this is perfect,” you praise.

“Just for you.”

“y/n, you’re getting a call,” Lewis calls to you, while you’re in the shower.

“Who is it?”

“It’s them.” He says it with the same tone that you can’t place.

“Oh,” you stop for a second, “just leave it. I’ll take care of it.”

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” Lewis says, as the two of you sit across from each other in the hotel room, half-dressed.

“I know,” you say truthfully, “you want something serious.”

“And you’re trying to get away from something serious.”

“It was fun though.”

“If you change your mind about something serious, you can call me,” Lewis offers.

“Don’t wait around for me, Lewis.”

“Now we’re just…” Lewis speaks up, when he sees you leaving the hotel.

“We’re just people that used to know each other,” you say, as the taxi to take you to the airport pulls up. “Goodbye Lewis.”

“Goodbye y/n.”

#formula 1 #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 au #formula 1 angst #lewis hamilton #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton fluff #f1 lewis #mercedes #mercedes amg petronas

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angelinasnotebooks · 6 months

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Hate that my form of hyperfixation is consuming and not creating.

I think I've been falling in love with ideas my whole life. I see colors and concepts and characters, and I want every part of the illusion to play around my body and immerse my mind and soul. I thought growing up I would be an artist. When that mentally shattered, I moved on to thinking I would become an author. Now, however, I don't know what or who I'll be. All I know is that my brain never stops coming up with ideas.

Yet, with all these ideas comes the possibility of creation. It's what I want, isn't it? I want to create these pictures and stories and share them with the world. So, why am I motionless in my pursuit to bring my mind to life? I have a library in my head. There's a girl in there. Her favorite color is blue. She doesn't know if life is worth living. I have an art museum there too. There's a portrait of a dying renegade, and a demon alter ego desiring joy. Then there's the realm of fandoms. The endless multiverse of continuations and alternatives.

There's a lot going on inside my brain and imagination. Chemicals I do not understand and signals I cannot control. An abundance of beauty only an individual can conjure with their subjectivity. With no outlet for these thoughts and images, I find it all to be too much at times. Wings heavy on my back and flightless under the pressure. The ability to soar is there, but the weight within is burdensome.

Every day I come up with something new. Some ideas are fresh while others are another line on the loom, but that is all they are. Thoughts. Ideas. Invisible whisps, webs, and wishes. It's as if the only part of my frontal lobe that works is that of imagination and complex thinking. I attempt short stories, painting, studying, chores, school projects, craft projects and I never get them done. Planning, time management, logical reasoning, and decision-making have all taken a backseat. I can't get any of them done, so I turn to what has already been done.

I rewatch a favorite show. I read another fanfic. I click on a YouTube video and another. I scroll Tumblr. I read character analysis. I try on the clothes in my closet. I add shit to my wish list. I post photos from two months ago on my Instagram. I relate to autistic ADHD tiktokers. I pretend Pinterest will help me get my life together. I think about the MCU. I watch another comfort, crime, haunted, mythical series. I visit my AO3 bookmarks. I doom scroll whatever app I can get my eyes on. I turn thirteen again and either spiral into a depressive state or become infatuated with the Hunger Games--again.

The point is, I can't force my brain to work on the original ideas. Sitting at a desk with supplies doesn't get my hands moving. I fall numb waiting for my body and mind to comply with my intentions. So, I end up here again. Hitting a heart button to let other people know that their commentary and hard work have reached me, and I liked it.

I don’t want all my ideas and universes to end where they are. I don’t want to minimize or invalidate my existence, or the experiences of others like me, by remaining artistically stagnant. I want my mind to be a visual tangible galaxy free to be roamed and explored. I want to have my heart in my hands, and I want to give it to every single person that I can. I want these thoughts, these precious ideas out of my head and into yours, dear reader. I don't want to consume; I want to create. If I'm going to go down the rabbit hole, I want to be the rabbit. The entrance maker. Not the lost girl I am right now.

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oddballwriter · 7 months

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Dwelling in the Night, Part Four: Just Know I'm Not the Sinister Type

Series Masterlist

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3

Summary: Life, and un-life, goes on. Stevan and you get closer, despite your better judgment, and actually reach the level of friends. It's actually quite nice when you don't think about everything that might come when time keeps going on, leaving only one of you untouched. Meanwhile, an eventful night of hunting happens for you. One with what you thought was a close call that involved you not killing someone tonight out of sympathy. But unfortunately, for you, you don't have as keen of eyes as you think you do.

Warnings: Reader is a vampire, so there's the usual vampire stuff like drinking blood and biting. Reader gets a little bit edgy and emo, not going to lie to you, because I gave them some backstory to their vampirism. Reader actually attacks someone, but doesn't kill them. It's revealed that reader can to mind control and memory altering as a vampire power however, it is used on someone else. So if you have issues with mind control stuff be aware of that. Cliffhanger ending.

Author’s Snip: Vampire Y/N lover come and get your juice. *places a blood bag on the table* Wow! I'm actually doing something that advances the plot instead of whatever part 3 was. But yeah. We may be having plots merging 👀.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 1974

It had been a while since the meat incident. About a month or two. The boys, although a bit creeped out by the idea of some stranger breaking into their place and just eating the raw meat in their fridge, seemed to let it go.

You also let it slip by, opting to pretend to yourself that you never did that in the first place. Both too ashamed about it, even though you weren't actually caught, and also because of the fact that Moon Knight technically broke into your place through your open window making you think that he saw you crawl in through Steven's window and back.

To you, what Steven didn't know wouldn't hurt him. It was only one time and it was out of desperation to satisfy the hunger that exists inside you before it took its hold of you and you made an even bigger mess of things.

Over these past few months, you and Steven grew closer. You would actually spend time in each other's flats from time to time. In his, you would spend time talking about various things like some literature since he had an abundance of books, but one thing you loved was when he'd tell you everything there is to know about Egypt and all of its history and mythos. It was amusing to you, hearing him ramble on and on about... well... everything. It's not like you knew anything about the place. You may be old but you aren't ancient Egypt old so hearing all of this from one person was nice. But then again maybe it was because Steven was the only thing close to a friend you have here, other than Moon Knight when you bump into him in the alleys.

Steven liked your flat too, surprisingly. So far you had spun the story that you were a person who liked to collect vintage things and also had a small interest in the macabre, as a means to explain the coffin you had 'as a coffee table'.

In truth, your coffin coffee table that you 'got from a funeral home somewhere' was actually yours and you were meant to be sealed in it, in your original home. But you came back just before they could nail it shut back in your family mausoleum. Your collection of vintage was always yours and has never once been in a thrift or antique store. Some were things from when you were alive. Most others were things you collected through the years afterward. The bed frame and mattress, plates, cups, utensils, and other normal things that you've never actually used but bought so that in case someone comes to your flat they wouldn't find it odd and start to question things, which might lead to your discovery.

Steven didn't need to know that though. Instead, he just oggled at them all and occasionally asked about a few things. There was one item that he just had to ask about though.

"Who's this?" he questioned, pointing at a photo. It was of you back when you were alive. It was old, barely still together, and in grainy black and white with the tint of age changing the white. You went for the easy answer, "It's a great relative all the way back in the day.".

"They look an awful lot like you, don't they?" Steven comments with a little smile. "Yeah. I get that a lot." you respond, "It happens. Sometimes decedents look a lot like the older generations." you comment, to which Steven nods, taking the lie.

But you can only lie so much.

"What exactly brings you here? If you don't mind me asking." Steven questions.

I was starting to be found out and the hunters showed up trying to hunt me, so I needed to flee.

"I just wanted to move somewhere new. Get a fresh start." you simply answered.

"Do you have family here?" is what Steven asks next.

It wouldn't really matter. The family tree's grown on without you. Any family you used to have are all dead now, leaving descendants that either remember you as a dearly departed that was taken too soon or have never even heard of you.

"No." you answer simply, again.

Steven gives you a sympathetic glance at that answer. "That's a bit lonely, isn't it? Being here all by yourself." Steven comments.

"I have you." is what you say, not thinking before saying it. Steven blushes a bit at the answer with a shocked look crossing is soft eyes for a moment before smiling. "Well, I'm glad that I can be someone to keep you company." he says.

"Yeah," you mutter smiling back. But there's a little bit of pain plucking at your heartstrings deep down.

You've never really had a friend before, at least not after you came back from the dead. You had a few when living. You had a lot of things that you couldn't come back for after returning. Your way of 'life' was now just staying out of sight or under the radar. Taking what you could and fleeing when you were caught. Learning how to control any weird powers and abilities you gained all by yourself.

You made acquaintance over these years in the few places you've been, but you never really made bonds since it was a matter of time till you needed to leave again. That, and also to save the sight of watching time take its course on them while you stayed frozen and outside of its reach like always.

In all honesty, you tried to push Steven away or keep him at the same distance as you did everyone else, but somehow he just managed to squeeze right in by being your kindly, and dorky, neighbor. You tried to shake off the feeling of dread for the day you may need to leave or see time reach him too. For now, he's just Steven.

🩸🩸🩸

Another night of hunting and another night of putting on the clothes that helped you blend in with the shadows of the alleys that you stalked. Sure it was dirty to kill off criminals but it had its benefits to society if you looked at it from a certain angle, and also because bloody banks are more of a hassle than this.

You locked on a target. A mugger that's been making the rounds around this alley path that some would use as a shortcut to get places quicker. But during the night it was dangerous. It had a lot of pockets from the old infrastructure that criminals could hide in waiting to ponce on someone passing by. But that could also spin their own doom when it came to you hunting them. This guy was using the technique too. Using a spot made for dumping trash and scraps for the collectors in the morning. It was big enough for the both of you.

He didn't see you in the shadows, watching him and his movements from your spot. You both listened for the sound of anyone coming, both waiting for the moment to strike. You hear heels clacking on the stone floor, coming closer, and it seems like he hears them too as he settles himself into place. You don't feel like witnessing a poor woman be ambushed and so you go for the shot anyway. You already know what he's planning on doing so might as well do it like he still did it.

You grab the back of his shirt and pull him towards you. But he instinctively elbows you causing you to bite his arm instead of his neck. He recoils, you lunge, and you both scuffle down onto the ground. He's actually pretty strong, but you've wrestled with some criminals before and at some point they end up losing.

But in the scuffle, he grabs something from the ground close to the wall and hits you across the face with it. And it hurts. It burns. You coil back and hold your face, emit something between a scream, growl, and hiss. A noise that you don't make too often. You feel bits of wood and splinters on the stinging skin. He's hit you with a piece of spare plywood that was left to be collected.

Great. Out of all of the things he could have hit you with, it's the one thing that actually hurts.

You come back to your senses when you see him try to run. But you can't let him go. He's most likely seen your face since you don't wear a mask, if he gets away he can identify you to someone, and that spells out trouble for you. Even if it seems a bit twisted, you can't let that happen, no matter the cost. So you get up and give chase.

The mugger runs in the direction of more alleys instead of the streets in a desperate means to just get away from you and not thinking properly out of fear. This place would be a maze to him, but not to you. You can smell the blood from your bite on his arm, drawing a straightforward path right to him. You hear him calling out for help as he runs. You can tell he's scared, it makes you feel guilty for what you'd need to do when you caught him but it was the only way in your eyes.

Or was there.

Right.

You have some of his blood, you have a little influence over him. If you could just catch up with him, you could maybe keep him from identifying you to the police or someone without killing him.

You manage to find him and now tail him. You want to catch up to him but he's at a distance advantage and you're close to the end of the alleyways, he could make it out before you get to him. It's now or never.

You focus on his blood in your mouth and shout "Stop!" at him, and he does. You want to sign in relief but you could lose your already weak hold. You quickly walk towards him and face him, looking him in the eyes. He looks panicked by the fact that he can't move anything. You ignore it and focus again as you look deep into his eyes, then feel the connection be made for your influence.

You even out your voice, "You don't remember my face." you say.

"You don't remember being chased by anyone." you add.

It always feels a bit jarring when the people you do this with just calm down and enter in the trance-like state they get into when you do this. His eyes and muscles relax entirely, he even drops the plywood he's still holding that you didn't notice before.

"You were... just taking the shortcut through the alley. You don't remember getting bitten by anyone or anything either." you add on as a means to cover up any tracks that would be left in his memory.

You keep the connection as you back away into the shadows, being concealed again and unseen by him and anyone else, and then cut it loose.

The man snaps out of it, looking around confused, most likely confused how he got here and then being shocked at the injury on his arm. He holds the wound as he walks away and out of the alley.

You relax, having managed to nail the mercy even though you had so little to use. "Holy shit." you mutter as you slip down a hatch to the city sewers below to head home.

🩸

"Holy shit..." an unseen man mutters to himself processing the scene he just saw right before him.

And here he thought that his jokes about you were just jokes to mess with the others.

#moon knight #moonknight #moonknight x reader #moon knight x reader #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #vampire reader #vampire au #vampire!reader #dwelling in the night

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tiafrye · 3 months

Text

It's against my own rules to let this side of discourse into the shipping tag so it will stay clean. Yesterday, regarding infamous Valentine's Day vid from Larian, I was essentially asked:

"Doesn't it bother you that people associate BW with AA?" (allegedly)

The short answer is - I don't give a single fuck.

But why? I asked myself, and with a bit of a digging came up with an explanation.

Disclaimer: I don't participate in Spawn/Ascension war, I don't understand it, you do you. People who do, they usually have their Tav or Urge to ship with Astarion and do I need to tell you that it's a self insert most of the time? So, people's feelings about the topic usually come from their own likes/dislikes or experience.

When it comes to shipping origin characters I (and many more) view them not from own perspective (mostly) but from the dynamic these canon characters (not ours) have.

Being narrative foils of each other, Gale and Astarion can affect one another's perspective on their shared Want - to be in control of their lives once again. And ascension for both is an obvious way out. What they Need, however, as any book on screenwriting will teach you, is something not quite obvious.

This leads to Negative and Positive arc of a character respectively. Would they recognize their truest deepest wish or continue on the path of something they can clearly see but suffer downfall in the end? Either way it's a story, it's content.

And I'm here for content. Whatever it might be.

Hell, last week I saw someone's playthrough gone wrong and both Gale and Astarion failed to ascend. The screenshot that person have posted from epilogue with Astarion on his knees alone at the reunion party was heartbreaking and still it was a peak representation of BW.

Shippers gonna ship. And in game such as BG3 with so many paths to travel do you really think that just because it's not someone's happy ending people gonna collectively pretend it doesn't exist?

Watching characters corrupt each other, destroy each other or failing at it is as juicy as watching them heal each other and finding their happiness in terms of the story because there's a fully realized arc behind it. It is essentially a quality collaboration between authors of both characters. Not a quick tumblr fanfiction.

In the end - we all want to see our favs happy together. I mean, look at majority of the fanart. People are fine. But denying yourself many possibilities of other paths?

Well, it's your money.

#bg3 #astarion ancunin #ascended astarion #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #here said it and i don't really want to bring this up ever again #i'm tired of people i'm tired of fandom i'm tire of character's uderfandoms making it all about themselves #i just want to enjoy my game in peace #and rich af shippy content on every platform #without stepping on discourse every scroll i take

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invested-in-your-future · 8 months

Text

Also just a stray thought.

"Character A would NEVER react this way" is such a weak kind of argument.

Character reactions are defined by the narrative.

IF you are writing a story, your character won't suddenly refuse to do what you wrote. You just need to convince your viewers that the character did what they would do.

What defines what character would or wouldn't do? It's not the "character".

It's essentially three things:

"Cause and Effect" - Cause And Effect is self-explanatory. What did you write your character as? What trajectory does the character have right now? Are they feeling hopeful because of their experiences? What kind of recent events are on their mind?

"Audience Expectations" - When you write a story, one of the main jobs of an author is to "guide" the audience toward an expected emotion, to make them wish for something - do you want them to REALLY hate a villain? do you want them to expect something dark and sad and tense? It's all about picking and choosing right building blocks.

"Intended Outcome" - You want your character to reach a specific endpoint of an arc. Your job is to arrange everything in between guided by that outcome you want to reach.

All of those things are in complete control of "The Writer".

Audience doesn't decide them. Characters don't decide them. You know what you want a character to do through the course of what you are writing and your job is to SHOW how the character arrives at the point that you want to TELL.

A writer builds an arc upon the building blocks that are there and then develops it according to the logic of the elements they have.

Some building blocks are less important because they are less related to the story arc and some are crucial because they tie directly to the character in question. So the writer needs to navigate which are which. "

You", the "writer", have the job to discern which are which.

Let's say you for example wrote a "lowest point" type of story moment where a character is emotionally and physically worn down by their experiences and reaches their breaking point. Your character has been through terrifying things, has experienced death and suffering and tragedy over and over and over again and is frustrated with their own inability to do anything or to change things, feeling hopeless and defeated and being forced to reflect upon their own life and choices. You made an entire pocket dimension of nonsense that was never ever mentioned before, JUST so you can do this story.

Now let's say there are multiple specific deaths that have severely impacted the character. That's what you the writer wrote to this point and why this whole character arc is even happening right now. Of course okay you just resurrected one of those dead characters for clicks so the audience would give you money for a while, but you decided to get rid of that character again (because again the character's purpose was just shock value). That's not something separate from the character arcs you are writing. It doesn't exist in a vacuum. You want to make specific things happen, but at the same time you have to wonder how and if the characters react to those things happening.

So now that character whose lowest point depression arc you are writing right now? One of their crucial life-defining deaths happened yet again. So you then start to think - "okay what do I do? How will this character react to having this important person torn from them a second time by someone they know and trust? What is the emotional reaction? Because there HAS to be one no matter the outcome because its a crucial building block of this character's arc."

Well, if you are canon RWBY writers you just go "MEH" and just pretend it all got resolved offscreen and not think about this pesky stuff, because turns out you don't want your character to go through the character arc you are making them to go through and are actively writing them going through? It's fine, you will just tell everyone the outcome of what you did not write months after you published it and downplay the importance of it and...Wait what.

That's it. That's the issue.

In this case The Character did not "refuse to react". They didn't do anything because their agency is the narrative agency.

In this case The Audience did not "refuse to accept what they saw". They did not impact how character reacts because they themselves just react.

In this case its The Writer who "refused to show the crucial element of the arc they are writing on-screen". You chose to not give the crucial character a reaction of ANY kind to a crucial moment.

Its not a failure of a character, or audience.

Its a failure of the one writing the story.

#rwde #rwby #rwby volume 9 #rwby9 #ruby rose

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dearmantis · 2 years

Text

Does he know that I'm falling

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x Durast!Reader

Summary: Tempted by knowledge and power you choose to experiment with forces you should know nothing about, hidden in the shadows of the early morning hours. What are you going to do when the General finally realizes something is not right?

Warnings: Aleksander is his own warning let's be honest here, this is not a nice man, but he doesn't really do anything here. The better warning is that I'm blatantly ignoring established rules of the magic system, not a native english speaker and that this isn't really proofread.

Word Count: 3.1k

Authors' Note: Yes, I've read the books. Yes, I'm gonna ignore canon. Yes, I'm especially ignoring the rules around merzost. It's magic, I can do whatever I want with it. Also title is from the lyrics of the fruits by Paris Paloma.

Part 1 | Series Masterlist

If Baghra knew what you're doing... she would eat you alive. No questions asked. Nobody knows that better than you since you have spent most of your youth training with her, your powers too weak for the Generals liking.

So you avoid her like the plague, deeply convinced that she would be able to feel what you have done, what you do every day, what you're planning to do.

First in the workshops in the morning, last to leave in the night. Kirigan and your fellow Fabrikators think you are simply a very hard worker, an obsessed artist some might say. And in a way you are an obsessed artist. Your paint is just less conventional than people assume.

If anyone finds out what you are doing they will execute you. This simple fact is buried deep inside of your mind, burning bright every time you move your hands to wake your powers, but you can't help yourself.

You have to keep trying. You have to. If you don't you might lose your mind and do something even worse, something even dumber.

And who can truly blame you? Materialki are supposed to seek knowledge, right? That's what everyone encourages you to do. Stay away from the battlefield, you're useless there anyways. Hide away in the libraries and laboratories of Ravka and collect the knowledge of the world. Satisfy your greedy mind and create new out of the materials available to you. Give your existence worth that way, because Saints know the General will never look at someone of the Order of Fabrikators unless they possess knowledge that he requires for one of his plans.

So you do what you do best. In the early morning hours you slip out of your bedroom, awake even before the servants of the night shift leave their positions, and disappear in the workshop, sneaking to your usual station, as far away from the Generals quarters, the door and the windows as possible. The guards know you by now, and if the guards do then so does the General, but lucky for you he has never come down to the workshops when you worked on your little experiments.

You're not stupid and naive enough to believe that it will stay that way. If you don't create a pretend project to present to him soon he will end up questioning what you're working on. Simply claiming that your work was still slow and that you required the extra hours of work to catch up with the progress of the other Durasts would lead to Training with Baghra again and that would be catastrophic, but it's hard enough to resist working on your side project during the day to make corecloth for new keftas already. You can't imagine using some of your limited alone time for some other side project you don't even really care about just to stay save from Kirigan.

Creating the bulletproof fabric is boring, simple work for you and if you tried a bit you could probably work on something new on the side during your day work, but the scolding you would receive if someone caught you would be quite bothersome to deal with. Shit, your team leader already believes you're too weak to even make corecloth, he would definitely report you to the General. You can basically already hear the shadow summoners voice booming.

So you think creating the cloth that keeps you, your fellow Grisha and my personal guard safe is not important enough work for a mighty Durast like you? Do you perhaps believe that you don't need a kefta? That your powers could stop a bullet from a Drüskelle in the air? Do you want to test that theory during a stay at the Fjerdan border?

You shake your head quickly, pushing the imagined scenario far away from your consciousness, and step over to the window furthest in the back of the room, kneeling down to lift the loose wooden board out of the floor. Below it hides a small space, filled with four different notebooks.

Today will be the day, you decide.

First you move the notebooks to your desk, then you close the empty space below the window again. Your hands are shaking and sweaty as you pull out a candle holder and a box of matches. Everything in you screams to keep light sources away from you, to hide in the darkness and let the shadows swallow you as you break another rule of the little palace, but the guards know you're here. Staying in darkness would be suspicious.

When you're done preparing your workstation you're surrounded by three burning candles and four open notebooks, a new, fifth quickly joining, formerly hidden in one of the many inside pockets of your kefta. You pull out a pen and ink bottle as well, dipping the tip of the pen in the dark ink before writing down the date at the top of the first page when you notice with confusion that the ink is black instead of the usual dark blue you tend to favour. Eyes flickering to the paper glued on the bottle you check again but the writing clearly says dark blue. The ink bottle is tinted in a dark blue as well, just like all the other ink bottles you bought before.

It was probably just a mistake from the shopkeeper you bought the bottle from, but you can't stop the paranoid thoughts from racing though your mind, too fast for your rationality to catch and neutralize them. Goosebumps begin to rise over your arms, back and neck.

What if this is an omen?

Stepping back towards the door, you strain your ears to listen, checking if anyone is coming your way, panic thick in your veins. If it is a sign, it either means that today will change you forever, or it's a warning. A warning of the man dressed in black, the one to summon shadows. Your general.

Promise or warning?

What if it's both?

When the fear becomes too much to bear you open the door slowly, leaning out of the room to check the hallway, but you see nothing other than a servant girl, quickly carrying a large, heavy laundry basket with her. You smile nervously at her while your eyes scan the corners for the unnatural darkness that hints that Kirigan is close by, but you see nothing suspicious.

You don't let go of the unease yet, instead choosing to close the door before quickly brushing your fingertips together, reaching out with your powers to look for a small piece of unique metal.

There.

Kirigans ring is in his quarters, moving a few centimetres every few seconds. He's unfortunately already awake, but probably working, distracted by documents and plans for the next few days.

Stepping back to your workstation you open the pages you need in your notebooks, calmness spreading in your body and softening your tense muscles again, smoothing the goosebumps on your skin easily.

You don't even bother sitting down, knowing fully well that you will be too nervous to sit still anyways. Instead you rub your hands together, trying to warm them up a bit since the cold air in the work station is slowly turning your hands stiff. You will need full and precise control over your hands if this is supposed to work without anyone getting hurt.

When you lick your lips and take another deep breath, you force the words out immediately afterwards, closing your eyes and pressing the palms of your hands together lightly while your tongue curls and moves to form the words you've made yourself familiar with over the past few months but never spoke out loud.

It begins with a humming-like feeling in the back of your throat and a tingling sensation in your hands, similar to a limb falling asleep. Then your body becomes warm while you try your hardest to clear your mind from any bad thought you've ever had, including the dread still quietly bubbling below your sternum. If your hypothesis is right then you should be able to do this without catastrophic consequences, as long as you balance yourself completely before you begin the next step.

Your breath hitches once, twice, and you can't help yourself and reach out to check on the location of the ring one more time, this time without moving your hands from the position they're in, before you finally manage to calm your thoughts entirely.

Forcing any happiness or relief down that tries to fight its way up into your heart you open your eyes and begin to pull your hands apart slowly.

It feels like your hands are stuck together with strong, stringy glue, but slowly you begin to make progress. It doesn't hurt, just like you predicted, but that does not mean that the whole act is not exhausting to an almost ridiculous degree.

When your hands are finally around half a metre apart you try to relax a bit, your gaze falling on what stuck your hands together in the first place. It's not black like you expected, like you had seen before. Instead it looks a bit more like an iridescent, melted metal and shimmers like moonlight on the surface of a calm lake. It's bizarre and you almost move your hands to write down what you're seeing. It shifts in shape, moving slowly through the air between your hands like a thick liquid of some kind, almost see-through in some parts.

In the back of your mind you ask yourself if this is the same thing Ilya Morozova saw before he defeated death and payed with his life in the process, because you simply can't imagine that a man worthy of becoming a saint would summon a material like the inky blackness of the fold and decide to use it on a person, fully believing that it could save a life.

No, the Magic, the Merzost, of the fold must be mixed with darkness, there is no other option.

You close your eyes again, relaxing your hands even more, muscle after muscle, while you try to soothe your powers into rest, into letting go.

This is phase 3 of your experiment. Seeing if you can let go of the Merzost, and most importantly: what will follow after it's let loose.

Your hypothesis is that it will stop existing. It was summoned with no purpose, no intention, no emotion, so it has no task to fulfil, no reason to exist, nothing to keep it hooked in this world except your powers that are slowly letting go of it to lay dormant in the core of your soul once more.

Slowly, your hands begin to shake, the muscles exhausted from holding pure magic in your reality, but seconds before you think your arms will give out your powers finally let go and the Merzost begins to break apart into thin strings, then into dust like particles that drop to the surface of your work station before disappearing entirely.

You almost fall to your knees when it's done, instead managing to drop into the chair you pushed aside minutes earlier.

There's a painful ache in your arms and your fingers suddenly feel cold like ice, all the warmth from the merzost gone as if it never existed in the first place.

For a few minutes you just sit and breathe, listening to the birds outside waking up and the servants chatting while they switch shifts, the night shift girls clearly happy to finally be allowed to sleep. The halls fill with yawns from fellow Grisha as well, tired giggling audible in the hallways as the Little Palace slowly wakes up. Breakfast will start in an hour.

When you finally feel like you regained just enough strength you blow out the candles before cleaning the ink off your pen and closing the little bottle. There is no way you will be able to write anything down today, not with how overly exhausted the muscles in your arms are, so instead you choose to hide the notebooks again and walk up to your room to hide under your thick blankets.

Your team leader will scold you but you just summoned pure Merzost without having to pay a price other than some pain and numbness. What he thinks of you doesn't matter right now.

The trip through the Little Palace back to your rooms is weird. You feel distant from the other Grisha surrounding you despite the fact that most of them are just as tired as you are and you can't really pay attention to your surroundings. You're getting more and more dizzy with every step, stopping a few times to take a small breather and press your back to a wall for stability, refusing to sit down and show how sick you feel.

In the back of your mind you know you should check for the position of the Generals ring and try to avoid him and his always watching, seemingly all-knowing eyes, but you're sure if you try to lift your arms now they're going to fall off, so you choose to stay ignorant instead, praying that some Saint will take pity on you and keep you safe.

You're two doors away from your quarters, desperate to feel your soft pillow under your head and the warm comfort of your mattress and blankets, when it suddenly gets eerily quiet in your hallway, but you barely even pick up on the shift in volume and atmosphere around you.

Too caught up in your own miserable physical state you don't notice what's wrong until you find yourself face to face with an Oprichniki, his stoic eyes starring you down. Your body might be exhausted but your mind is still sharp enough to know that what this means so you quickly scramble to the side, your body hitting the wall in the process but you don't dare to make a sound, gaze flickering around until you find the General standing a few steps away, his dark grey eyes trained on you and your pitiful appearance. His gaze moves down your shape to inspect your kefta before he finally speaks, voice clear and calm. You still hear the underlying sharpness, the suspicion, despite the smoothness in his words.

The paranoia you felt an hour ago is clearly justified. He noticed your workload and will most definitely request to see what you're working on, especially after seeing you stumble around the hallways of the Little Palace.

"Are you alright, Durast?" He asks and you're not even surprised that he doesn't know your name despite the distrust he clearly holds for you.

Quickly nodding you press your body harder against the wall, the skin covering your shoulder blades hurting awfully, trapped between unyielding bone and stone wall, barely protected by the purple kefta, more of use against singular bullets than for comfort and protection against pressure.

"Yes moi soverenyi, everything is fine." You say quickly, forcing stability into your voice before tying your hardest to straighten out your back. "I'm just really tired. I haven't slept much in the past few weeks. I think I might've overworked myself a bit."

In the back of your mind an old memory of Baghra chastising you wakes up, her old voice loudly echoing through your consciousness as she scolds you.

"If you're gonna lie to me at least do me a favour and do it well. Liars always over-explain too much. Only mention enough information to assure the other person that you're not actively hiding something from them you stupid child."

Kirigans eyes do not leave you, his gaze calculating as it traces over your face, the stitching of your kefta and finally your arms and hands, hanging heavy and cold at your sides.

"Your hands are shaking." He points out and suddenly he's moving towards you, his movements too fast and too unexpected for you to dodge quickly. An echo of the feeling you get with Baghra, of that deep conviction that he will know what you've done if he gets too close to you crashes through your body like a wave but it's too late, his hands grabbing yours and lifting them up to get a better view of them.

You attempt to pull yourself out of his grasp but you can barely move your fingers at this point, giving up seconds later, your heartbeat rushing loudly in your ears. His eyes are too focused for your liking, carefully scanning your hands as if he knows that there's something for him to find, something off about your story. He doesn't believe you, not even a little bit.

A silent prayer to Ilya in chains, the man who became a saint for experimenting with magic, is all you can muster, unable to free yourself. Shit, even if your arms didn't feel like they're going to fall off any second, ripping your hands out of your Generals grasp would not only be rude, it would be disrespectful. You could get disciplined for such misdemeanour and it would probably only make him more suspicious of you and your experiments.

The Generals dark grey eyes move back to your face, so many questions clearly visible in his eyes that it takes your breath away for a second.

Is he trying to manipulate you?

Look at me. I have so many questions only you can answer. Don't you want to please me? Don't you want to please your General?

You shake your head lightly and he seems to take it as an answer to one of his questions, a frown appearing on his face before he lets go of your hands.

"Go to sleep. After you're rested please come to my quarters. I would like to talk about whatever project is taking up so much of your time. Perhaps we can organise a small team to support you. We can't have Grisha stumbling around the halls of the Little Palace like this. The king is going to assume I can't lead my soldiers well enough if he hears of this."

Nodding quickly, not trusting your voice to be stable enough for the usually expected yes, moi soverenyi, you try to take a step back, bumping into the wall with a wince before lowering your gaze to the floor to show respect. He waves his with his hand, dismissing you in the process, before continuing his path down the hallway.

When you finally stand in front of your room you force your hands back into movement to pull your key out of one of your many pockets to unlock the door, while silently asking yourself how the Generals hands could possibly be cold enough for the feeling to still be noticeable for you, despite the numb state of your arms.

Maybe that's why he always wears those gloves? His hands are just really, really cold?

Minutes after you fall into your bed, prepared to sleep the weird effects of the Merzost off, the General stands silently in his own quarters, staring at his hands as he realises that he not only foolishly touched you with his bare hands, he also didn't feel your powers pull on his amplification. No, you hadn't noticed anything at all and neither did he. He didn't amplify you when he touched you.

Slowly turning back towards his door, the same frown from before appears on his face, his mind deep in thought. Something about you is not right. Something has changed.

A mystery has revealed itself in the halls of his very own palace and for the first time in decades he has no idea what to do about it.

Part 2 - I have no time for confession

#darkling x reader #general kirigan x reader #the darkling imagine #shadow and bone #aleksander morozova x reader

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kyouka-supremacy · 2 years

Note

Hello there 👋

Can you talk about why you feel the way you do about the female bsd characters? (including the female characters you like) and while I don't think the author doesn't know how to write female characters I think the biggest problem with the female characters is that they're underutilized and barely have much screentime ( the most one we saw recently having screentime currently in the manga is teruko)

Hi!! I love you all SO much but seriously I don't have the mental stability to talk about why the bsd female characters are badly written ahah. Here's my best attempt at it:

I hope it's enough for me to say there's a female / male characters proportion of like 1:10, and no female character has any real repercussion on the plot– literally. Besides from Kyouka and Lucy and maybe Yosano? you could hypothetically erease every other female character and... Realistically, nothing would change. That's just how much irrelevant all but three female characters are, and there's already very few compared to the rest of the male cast. The four main / most popular characters are all males. Dazai is openly sexist and it's just kind of there never to be addressed. Akutagawa is repetedly violent with his female coworker and it's treated as a gag (like you DO realize how repulsive it is to write a character who is obsessed with her abuser and never be intentioned to elaborate on that because I guess that's what women are supposed to do according to author? Like. okay). But honestly the main issue for me is how each of them literally gravitates around another male character. God, it's SO annoying. And I mean every single of them!!! Every. single. Every single!!!! I struggle to come up with even one exception to the pattern. Kyouka has Atsushi as her savior, Lucy has Atsushi as her savior, Higuchi is obsessed with Akutagawa, Naomi is obsessed with Jun'ichirou, Gin literally exists because of Akutagawa, Alcott is just there to aid Fitzgerald, Margaret's only role in the story is to save Hawthorne, Elise is just expression of Mori. Teruko is a person in the body of a child who literally drools over her 50-something superior, like we hadn't as a society come to the common agreement that the “not as old as she looks” trope was disgusting pedophilia apologism like ten years ago (but it's okay though, because pedophilia was established to be okay in this manga at like, chapter 15 or something) (is this the good time to bring up that time Aya asked Kunikida out? No? Okay let's just collectively pretend that never happened). Do I need to go on? I haven't read Gaiden, but do I really need to read it to know Tsujimura gravitates around Ayatsuji? Oh wait, I was just remembered about Gaiden's full title: Bungou Stray Dogs Gaiden: Ayatsuji Yukito VS. Kyougoku Natsuhiko, and if that doesn't speak of the consideration author gives their female characters, I don't know what does. It's just– no female character is ever going to have their own novel. No female character is ever going to be protagonist. They'll just keep being treated as they've always been so far, like flat and personality-less disposable plot devices.

Now. I love Yosano's backstory, I really do- I think it was the best executed arc of the manga, reading those two chapter still gives me chills. But you do have to acknowledge, Yosano herself has no agency in the entire arc development. It's okay, she was eleven, it's natural; but she is just tossed one way to the other by other characters. That, and I can't stretch it enough, is not a bad thing on its own; not all stories have to scream #womanpower to be good stories. It's a good story. But you need to acknowledge it does nothing to empower female characters' role in this manga; it just speaks once again of it being a systematic problem, how author can't write female characters like they were masters of their fate if their life depended on it. And it's not that just because there's one (1) mini arc that happens to have a female character as its protagonist, author knows how to write female characters with depth, or agenda, or an objective, or personality, because... They clearly don't.

Like. I probably became annoying by now but like. When was the last time you found any bsd fan whose favorite character was a woman? When was the last time you found people describing themselves as a Lucy kinnie? If you ask me, it's not a matter of fans' fault for overlooking female characters; the female characters in this franchise are meant to be overlooked, because they're abysmally less stretched out and complex compared to their male counterparts– because male characters are distinctive and unique, while author can't go outside the range of one-dimensional femme fatale, letal woman (Yosano, Kouyou, Teruko, Christie, Gin / Lucy / Elise too to an extent) and woman who's just there to obsess over a male character (Alcott, Higuchi). But do not fret, because author will sometimes go outside that scheme by making a letal femme fatale who also obsesses over a male character! (Naomi). Also this

(Have you ever wondered why I never talk about Beast Gin? Yeah.)

Okay but you see the problem here? You see how it's impossible to make the same kind of argument for the male characters, because they're all diverse and various and multilayered as much as their little screentime allows? Higuchi doesn't exist outside Akutagawa, Lucy doesn't exist outside Atsushi; but it's not like you can say the same goes the other way round. That is, crossing out the various parallels drawn between male characters, but that only speaks more of how precisely curated male characters are, while all female characters... I'll be honest, aren't written as people. Author really sounds like your average Washington Post best selling psychological thriller author of the week that writes women like an alien species from another planet. It would have spared me having been writing this whole post for an hour (two hours? Which is definitely not the time I wanted to spend on this, man) if only author would have formed the thought, at the start of the serialization: “perhaps! Perhaps I should write women as people instead of writing them as female characters (whatever that means)”. Alas, we ended up with the infamous Naomi description from Untold Origins (what the fuck. who in their right mind would ever think of writing something like that. what the fuck.)

Now, I know if you're here reading this you most definitely like bsd. It's okay, really. Unpopular opinion, but people are perfectly allowed to like things that are flawed (and this is a big flaw). What's extremely important, seriously, I'm on my knees begging you, is to be critical of the media you consume. All kinds of media. Even if you end up disagreeing with me on this matter, really!! Just be able to tell apart the things that make appealing a series for you from whatever kind of agenda / worldview the author is pushing through, and peacefully acknowledge you can like something despite it having issues (because bsd has issues). I don't know who needs to hear this, but someone definitely does: “I love s/kk!!” “the bsd storytelling has many compelling aspects!!” and “I recognize the bsd writing has flaws some of which actively harm an already disadvantaged part of society” are statements that can and should coexist, and if anything - and I know you hate to hear this, I'm sorry, I'm sorry - it should be kept in mind when deciding to support the franchise by buying its products.

One final note is that like... I'm sorry if this comes off as pretentious but I seriously feel like people have NO idea what media with well written female characters look like, because for people to even question bsd being sexist is just insane to me (in the way: do we really need to to talk about it, isn't it obvious like ten seconds in the show??). And this is probably the least good place to advertise things, but please do yourself a favor and read The Promised Neverland and learn what well written female characters read like.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #Me writing this: I guess this is why everyone hates political sciences students uh #Following up: Why Romanticizing Mafia Is Actually Very Bad (no click bait ‼️‼️ )#Also since I brought up tpn: do you really think that it's a coincidence that the manga with incredibly well written female characters–#and a socialist agenda who was in the top ten Japan's yearly best selling franchises for the entirety of its four years serialization–#got an insulting two seasons anime adaptation that completely narrated another story from the manga‚ a live action movie and THAT'S IT #While series like bsd which didn't even enter the top 20 selling franchises like? Ever? are at their tenth year of serialization–#an excellent four seasons (and counting) anime adaptation five spin-off manga one of which has its own anime–#nine novels as many stage plays and two movies? Do you REALLY think it's a coincidence?#anti bsd #For blacklisting purposes ಥ_ಥ #I know there's some people who won't like reading this but let's be honest... That's probably the people that need to read this the most ;;#bsd analysis #Of sorts...#mine #people asks me stuff #This post contains the several reasons why Tumblr can't become like Twitter namely 1) author in question has Twitter #2) Tumblr is anonymous so people can't send me personally death threats #3) It's Tumblr so people won't send me death threats at all (... Hopefully)#Also I'M SO SORRY I know I have dms pending I'm just the worst at answering them 😭😭😭#I swear I'll do my best to get to them eventually ;;;;;;

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iamhereinthebg · 2 years

Note

could u talk more about the after life city au?? it just sounds sooo interesting and, gotta admit, it got my attention on the akane being the sunshine of the shore and tsukasa becoming hanako's creepy shadow

Heyaaa really happy to talk a bit more about this au! I actually did quite a few characters references sheets so I will put them here and explain some stuff :DD

Part 1/Part 2/Part 3

disclaimer: the drawings are old af I am sorry x')) And this is still really long yay

So let's start in chronological order :D

(putting this here again for all the infos)

Once you die you end up in the river between the near and far shore. If your soul was pure enough to deserve a reincarnation in your next life, the Shinigami travelling the waters will pick you up to make you go to the After Life City. A city where you can have a second life and where you can proove you deserve to reincarnate.

So Shinigami as Shinigami of course. Who is in charge of collecting the 'good enough' souls to make them go to the city. He doesn't talk much and isn't on the ground very often. He has a little companion called Flami. Sumire and Katakuri are his assistants on land and represent him, they have a cabin near the river where souls can go file a complain (if they don't want to try in the city anymore and just wanna go disappear in the river forever)/if they want to communicate with him.

Nene is a 15yo girl who just died. She doesn't remember anything but happened to be chosen because her soul was pure enough. She ended up entering the 7th Lord's shop/complain center (idk it's just where he works) and was tricked into becoming his assistant, after Hanako saw how sincere and funny she was. He explained that the city has been having a hard time lately because some souls have been accepting into the city without being good enough and some of them have been disappearing while being here.

This city has 7 Lords who follow the authority of the royal family (and Istg I wrote this like 2years ago I didn't know it would be relevant ahah) the Nanamine, who is the family in charge of protecting the souls. The princess has been asleep since her mother's passing and is waiting for something to arrive (it is what she said, but none of the Lords understood what she meant). Unfortunately, the 7 Lords under their orders absolutely can't work together since the princess is asleep (and honestly they don't want to). So Hanako thinks a human who is better at communicating than a supernatural would be better at taking care of all of this. He honestly just wants Nene to do his dirty work because he is too lazy. Hanako is the Lord who is the farther away from the center of the town and who is in charge of protecting the city from others supernaturals and protential threats. He is also the one welcoming the new ghosts in the city after making them pass a kind of test (like in a airport). He has a lot of Hakujoudai helping him and most of the time don't even go there and just watch things from afar. He is bored af (I am not going to expand on the Near and Far Shore relationships for today it will be a little be too long ^^ but this is where the Minamotos and humans are relevant yay)

Nene starts her journey with Hanako (and his fcking living Shadow he pretends doesn't exist) in this strange city to try to talk to all the Lords. Hanako told her not to try to get back her memories since there will be a time for this but it's always at the back of her mind.

Unfortunately for her, the 'usual ghost route' won't apply on her because the second Lord she will meet will be number 1. And she is certain of one thing, she knew this boy in her previous life.

(I am too lazy to edit this again I am so sorry this is so old)

The boy says his name is Kyo. He loves the city, he loves to be here, he loves to meet new ghosts everyday and he absolutely loves his job. He is the 1st Lord but insists that he isn't alone to be the 1st. His job is to determine the time left for each inhabitants of the city by inspecting their hearts. More the hearts is pure, the less time the people will have to work in the city.

She will meet with the other two Lords after because Kyo says he can't stay at night, and that Mirai will take his place.

Nene will after this meet the others Lords. Their orders actually make sense from 1 to 5 (minus 2). This is the order the ghosts have to follow to complete their full reincarnation.

Number 2 (Yako) is mostly the ones who gets the yokais who work in the city to help the Lords and she owns a big market (which is a stairs going up in the city). She has a door to go into the human worlds where she wants and gets human goods to seel them to the ghosts. So they can have objects they used to have in their previous lives.

Number 3 (Mitsuba) is always really grumpy, his job is the least fun of all the mysteries since he have to force the ghosts to confess their deepest sins so they can continue their adventures in the city. He uses his mirrors and puppets to force them by showing them their deepest fears.

Number 4 (Mei Shijima) will cause quite a problem to Nene. Since she has been refusing to do her job correctly since the princess Sakura is asleep (She has a big crush on the princess okay (Sakumei the only ship that matters to me my beloved)). Number 4 has to show humans their deepest dreams after confessing their sins. But She will only show an amount according to how she thinks they deserve it or not. Meeting with Nene will change her view on all of this.

Number 5 is the loneliest of the Lord after number 6. He is the one having access to the full memories of all the ghosts and is the last Lord to go see before being able to reincarnate. Unfortunately for him, his memories have been really bad since the last queen died and he can't be understood by others. He uses sentences which don't make sense, resulting in absolutely no one being able to understand him no matter how hard they try. It makes him really grumpy and sad and he will let people wander into his labyrinth of memories (with a lot of books) and only make them out if they found the way out by themselves with the help of some of their memories.

I have some plots even if they don't make that much sense since this au is mostly for fun :00 I mostly wrote what was the first thing that came into my mind yay (a lot of things happened because I was like 'wow it could be cool' and not because it would make sense XDD)

(Let me dump super old sketches because I don't think I will ever post them otherwise hello)

Just know that most Mysteries here are full supernatural (who stole human's appearances) and have morals which are eeeeeh not that good because they just don't care. They are way way older than in the canonverse of tbhk ^^

Oh and also when I said Akane was the sunshine it was a metaphor ahah x') theyr don't have a sun or starts in the city but they joke about the fact that Kyo is their sun because of how happy he is about everything (when honestly all the Lords are depressed bastrds ahah)

I won't explain everything because I don't have everything and because it will be really long but here you go ^^ Thanks a lot for asking about it it was really fun to talk about it, it's been a while :DD

I don't think I will continue writing that much plots but hey maybe I will draw some stuff for it :D

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another-sonic-blog · 1 year

Text

The Fanfictioner Ch.6: Drunk Confessions

For a better reading experience: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23815324/chapters/57221092

Thanks @/redsunlight for the art cover!

The Fanfictioner Ch.6: Drunk Confessions

TW: Drinking (Idk but just in case lol)

A DRAMATIC TURN OF EVENTS: SHADOW AND AMY ARE STILL SECRETLY DATING? AND SONIC FINDS OUT?!!

Stupid Tabloids.

Sonic was right. They were watching.

The paparazzi had taken pictures of her and Shadow on the cruise. People still think that they were dating even when Shadow confirmed on his Bitter account that they were just co-workers.

But of course, the people still had their speculations.

"It's not the first time they make tabloids. They used to write about us all the time before too, remember?"

Sonic is as excited as he could be to finally touch the ground again. He wants to run and start exploring again on an island he has yet to explore completely. He was on Acorn Island once, for a war. Now he is here for peace.

"Don't worry too much about it."

Amy smiles at the blue hedgehog and he smiles back as they slowly walk down the ramp of the cruise to the port.

They expected people to be there but not to this extent. There were posters of their faces, cameras, and flowers thrown at them.

"Sonic marry me!"

"Amy have my kids!"

"Sticks step on me!"

"Tails come check my plane!"

"Knuckles carry me!"

They are surprised by the amount of security there is, the people and the cameras, and the amount of support that they were receiving. And one question raises ...

"All of this support ... and we are still getting paid minimum wage?"

They better start reading the contracts for next time. Regardless, as they walk down the ramp and greet the fans, a black limousine is waiting for them. As they almost reach the limousine, the entire crowd goes silent. Of course, this gets the attention of the Sonic Team.

It's Shadow the Hedgehog, wearing a black leather jacket and shades which made all the girls and some guys fangirl and scream in excitement.

Quickly enough, a black van pulls behind the limousine. The door opens and Mia, Shadow's manager, comes out of it.

"We have your hotel reserved and your bike will be waiting there for you as well," Mia says as she guides Shadow to the car as quickly as possible. The crowd could break the metal barriers any second.

"Did anyone ride my bike here?" Shadow asks as he passes by Sonic Team, pretending they don't exist.

"Of course not," Mia responds.

"Good, I don't want anyone touching my bike."

Shadow lets his manager go first into the van and then he goes in. Probably the first time showing his gentlemanly side to the public.

After that, they drove off.

They were all given individual rooms in the castle. Yet, they have not met the Queen. Something about 'making it formal' because 'royal protocol'

It is exciting, except for Sonic, no one has ever met the Queen before.

Amy wonders what to wear for tomorrow. Her usual fighting clothes? Or something more formal? Maybe she should ask Sticks what she will be wearing tomorrow. But knowing her, Sticks doesn't really care and will wear whatever she feels comfortable with.

Maybe she will ask one of the Queen's many maids for assistance on this one.

She has a large bed, with beautiful golden frames. A few paintings decorated the wall and there is a vanity mirror in front of her bed. A window with a long curtain. Her room was located in a small tower of the castle and if she wanted, she could jump and enjoy the castle's beautiful garden.

Beep Beep

It's her phone.

She jumps into her king-size bed. Amy could not even consider this a bed, if anything they were just bed sheets, and underneath its just fluffy clouds. The pink hedgie feels she could fall asleep any moment as the bed is too comfortable to resist. Yet, she tries her best to keep her eyes open. Just to text him back.

TheFanfictioner#0619: This might sound annoying but ... Do you have any chapter updates? I am in this new place right now and I can't sleep at all.

Although many authors may find comments and messages of 'update soon' to be annoying, Amy did not mind. She is more grateful that people take the time to comment. 'Update soon', 'Please update' she did not mind. A comment is a comment and she appreciates all of them. She prefers to take it positively. As if people can't wait to read more of her stories and just beg her for more.

Of course, she loves and prefers very detailed comments from people analyzing her story arcs and characters. But all of them are.

ARoseWithoutTorns#0923: Oh, business trip? And I can send you some drafts I wrote.

TheFanfictioner#0619: Something like that. I am meeting with an old friend ... And PLEASE send those drafts ASAP"

The pink one giggles a bit as she sends a word doc to her friend. It's good that he asked, she's been wanting to get feedback.

ARoseWithoutTorns#0923: Don't leak them tho.

TheFanfictioner#0619: As if. I can't afford a lawsuit.

Talking about the lawsuit reminds her of the situation she has back at home. She still doesn't know how to go about being sued if she doesn't accept being a writer for Sonic Boom.

But ... she kinda wants to do it.

Of course, if she's allowed to send scripts anonymously and never have to show her face.

ARoseWithoutTorns#0923: Yeah me either. Talking about lawsuits, I may be getting sued by the Sonic Boom team.

TheFanfictioner#0619:Uh? Why?

ARoseWithoutTorns#0923: Well, so I got asked to be the main writer of the Sonic Boom show. And I can't even deny the offer because they will sue me if I do.

The Sonic Boom Show Team had contacted her via the email she used to create an account on fanxfiction.com. In the email, there was a pdf contract and a deadline to sign before they take legal action. Two weeks from now.

TheFanfictioner#0619: About that ... If you don't want to do it, I think I can help.

ARoseWithoutTorns#0923: Uh?

TheFanfictioner#0619: It's hard to explain over text and you won't probably believe me even if I told you so ... I was wondering if you would like to meet me?

You probably won't believe me? One thing he is not going to believe is she is actually the actress Amy Rose who just likes to write fanfiction out of the show she acts in.

ARoseWithoutTorns#0923: Meet you?

TheFanfictioner#0619: I promise you I am not a creep. We will meet at a public place.

How can she explain that she also carries a really big hammer that could break anyone's bones?

ARoseWithoutTorns#0923: I can take care of myself, that's not what worries me. Which Island are you from?

TheFanfictioner#0619: Right now I am in Acorn Island ... and you?

ARoseWithoutTorns#0923: Omg, what a coincidence! Me too! But I am not sure ... uh ... I kinda ... I am a shy person.

And by 'shy' she meant 'famous' ... Just a little bit.

TheFanfictioner#0619: "Me too but I really want to help you. It's unfair what they are doing to you."

She doesn't know why but ... she got this sparkly sensation in her stomach. They have been talking for a couple of months, and she is excited to meet her number one reader.

ARoseWithoutTorns#0923: Well, right now I am in Acorn city and I don't know if I'll have time to travel to another city.

TheFanfictioner#0619: Oh, I am in Acorn City too! We could meet at Momo's cafe on Saturday at 9 pm?

Amy didn't know where Momo's cafe is but she knew that she could just Xoogle it and find it. Saturday is supposed to be the date of the royal ball but she could ask for a break.

ARoseWithoutTorns#0923: 9 pm? I think I can make it.

TheFanfictioner#0619: Alright, I'll see you.

Everything is extremely formal. Amy expected it to be like this but her friends seem to have not gotten the memo, except for Tails who was wearing a suit.

The guards step aside as they walk across the corridor until they finally reached an enormous door that slowly opens by itself. There, were no guards there. Maybe because they were heroes but she was not expecting this level of trust.

"Welcome heroes of Ancient Island, it is my pleasure to have you here."

She definitely was not the newspaper and media made her be. Not fancy dresses, no crown but instead a blue vest, white shirt, jeans, and boots. Princess Sally Acorn looks like a normal Mobian but there is still an elegant aura radiating from her. She's stunning.

"My Princess."

Everyone bows and bends the knee, except for Sonic who just smiled at his old friend.

"Oh please don't do that, it's awkward and old fashioned," the princess moves her hand from side to side, signaling everyone to stand up. They really weren't expecting this.

"Princess Sally, we-" Tails wanted to thank her for inviting them but he is quickly interrupted

"Just call me Sally."

"Oh ok Sally, thank you for having us over," Tails says. "If there is anything we can help with, please let us know."

"Actually that's what I wanted to talk to you all about," the Princess walks down from her throne and slowly makes her way towards the heroes. "There is really nothing to protect here. I didn't want to you come as bodyguards. I just want you to be here as guests of the crown, support the crown."

Sonic steps forward from the team. This is not usual for him. It's not like he is in a fighting stance, but Amy knew him better than anyone. Although he is in a room with friends, Sonic does not seem too friendly around Sally. He is wary and his taking a step closer to the Princess is a slight way to protect them.

"And by supporting the crown you mean?"

"It just means talking good about us."

"Yeah, we can do that!" Sticks say and Knuckles nods to that, soon Tails agrees as well.

But Amy looks at Sonic and he doesn't look good. The blue blur does a small turn and he smiles at his team.

"Hey guys, can you give me and Sally a few minutes to talk? We haven't seen each other in such a long time, we need to catch up."

There are a few seconds of silence and everyone looks at each other. All four had different ideas as to what they might talk about

"Yes, of course," Amy is the one to speak up. Faking a smile while she tries to push everyone out of the room. The sooner they get out, the sooner she can be depressed.

"Feel free to explore the city, our chauffeur can take you anywhere," Sally waves at them goodbye as the large doors start to open for them. "I recommend buying something fitting for the ball tomorrow."

"Cool! Thank you so much!" Everyone says except Amy.

She keeps making eye contact with Sonic and as the doors began to close again, he gives her a small sincere smile.

"Come on Amy, lighten up!" Knuckles says. "Just because Sonic and Princess Sally are alone in a room does not mean that they might remember their time together during a war and fall in love."

Was she being so obvious? Amy is aware that she's being too insecure but how couldn't she? Sally is the perfect choice for Sonic ... Not like she is most of a choice anyways.

"I think what Knuckles are trying to say is that you should have fun. You always wanted to come to Acorn City after all."

The chauffeur had dropped them off at Emerald Central. A section of the city full of shops, movie theaters, museums, shopping centers, and many other things. It is a big city and there is much exploring to do but all of Amy's motivation went away.

"It's not about Sonic," she lies. "I am worried about being followed."

"Followed?" Tails asks as he giggles a bit. "Come on Amy, why would anyone follow us-"

"OH MY CHAOS! IS THAT TAILS MILES PROWER?!!!"

"IS THAT THE CAST OF SONIC BOOM!"

They look at each other in disbelief. People start to run towards them. Panic kicks in their bodies as the screams get louder.

"Alright, let's separate, and once we lose them we can regroup!" the fox starts to fly as the rest of the team nods and after a small exchange of looks, they run in different directions.

The pink hedgehog runs as fast as she could. But everywhere she goes someone would recognize her. A cafe? There is a fan. A movie theater? A fan. A convenience store? A fan.

Now she is hiding at a museum. Thinking that maybe people will respect being quiet and not scream her name.

Amy rests a bit. Taking a big breath, she decides to take a quick look at the museum. She is here already anyways. There were great paintings indeed. Some of people, flowers and landscapes. There is one painting in particular that caught her attention. It's of a human lady, which is strange as it is. It's on a few occasions humans from Earth come visit their world. And most of the time is for politics. There are a few humans in Mobius but Amy is sure that there are less than ten.

The lady in the painting is sitting under a tree. Long brown hair, brown eyes, and a dress. All around her was a field of lavender flowers. Amy feels relaxed and safe the moment she sees her.

"The lady in waiting ... One of my favorite paintings."

Amy hears a male voice and a figure approaches her. Said figure wore a black hoodie that covered his head, he wore a facemask, shades, and a cap. Jeans and black combat boots.

"At first you can't see it. But the painting tells a story," the mysterious figure points at a small part of the painting. In the background, there is another figure approaching the lady without her knowledge.

"This lady wears human customary clothes of someone married. However, there is no ring on her finger, no jewelry that indicates that she's married," he then points at the flowers. "The lavender flowers symbolize love and devotion. Her face is not quite sad, or happy ... she is just there. Waiting for something ... or someone."

Amy starts to connect the pieces, the story already planned in her head.

"She is waiting for her lover ... and unknown to her, he is making his way up the hill to finally reunite with her."

The guy next to her nods in approval, still appreciating the artwork.

"I like how this painting makes the viewer think of possible stories after they meet up."

"Stories?"

"Yes ... I wonder so many things. Why did they part? How long did it take for them to reunite? What happened after? Were they happy? ... Or maybe that figure in the background is coming to tell her the sad news that her lover is not coming back?"

Amy did not want to jump to conclusions. But that voice is almost immediately recognizable. Even when he is whispering, he had that distinctive voice.

Which is kinda sad. With such a detailed analysis of the painting, Amy hoped this guy could be The Fanfictioner.

But of course, it was just Shadow. Or at least Amy thinks he is. He was all covered up and she couldn't see his face properly.

"Her lover is dead? I think that's really sad ... I don't know if I like that."

"Yes but I think it fits. I think that even after knowing her lover is dead, she will still climb up that hill every day and wait under that tree ... making this painting timeless. She will always be waiting ... and he will always be looking."

This made Amy's brain spark an idea. Her writing side taking over, but she suppressed those thoughts for later

"That's bittersweet."

"Yes, my favorite type of ending."

After a few seconds of silence, Amy hears a few whispers, and she notices that a few people are pointing at her.

She is starting to miss Ancient Island. People were used to seeing it there. Amy is not used to being this popular whatsoever. She is pretty sure the reason they are starting to become more popular is because of Shadow-

"You know, maybe if you didn't dress the same as you do in the show, you wouldn't be recognized."

"Am I supposed to dress ridiculously like that?"

Instead of insulting Amy, Shadow just raises his shades, revealing his red eyes.

"If you don't want to get followed then yeah."

"IS THAT AMY ROSE?!"

Amy looks at Shadow with begging eyes and immediately Shadow sighs.

"My bike is parked outside."

"What is the point of your bike being outside if we ain't gonna ride it?"

Amy and Shadow are now running through the streets of Emerald Central. Hiding behind a few buildings on an alley. They see as a few Mobians pass by them, still trying to find her.

"Everyone knows my bike ... If people see you and me riding it, they will definitely think we are dating," Shadow says as he peaks his head a little to see if anyone is around. "Besides I don't like anyone riding my bike but me, I'll just go pick it up later."

"You let me ride your motorcycle before," Amy says, thinking just how her friends are doing.

"Well, yeah cause that was a borrowed motorcycle," Shadow took off his black cap and put it on Amy's head. "I paid to borrow it until my bike gets shipped. But I am back home and I want to ride it until it gets sent to Ancient Island."

Amy didn't like wearing the cap, but she assumed that Shadow gave it to her so her face wouldn't be too noticeable.

"Anyways, this is where we part ways," Shadow makes a half turn and starts to walk away, thinking he already did his good action of the day.

"Wait! I need your help! If I get out of here those people will follow me again!"

Shadow keeps walking, the last thing he wants is for people to see them together and start thinking the worse.

"Sorry but I have an image to keep. My manager already got angry at me. I can't be seen with you again."

"Please! If you help me I'll ..."

It is a desperate time. She could still hear the people nearby and the more time she passes, the more she is at risk. It's not because she didn't like meeting fans, but because she is scared. In Ancient Island, people just know she is an actress and a hero. But here it's different. She is expected to be more, to not make mistakes. To be a famous person and she is not ready for that yet. Amy is not ready to go to the world and embarrass herself in front of everyone.

"I'll get you an invitation to go to Princess Sally's ball tomorrow!"

Shadow stops midway.

"You don't have an invitation right? And ... You like her don't you? I am still not sure what kind of relationship you had with her but-"

"Fine. Let's go."

Oh, he must really like her. That's what Amy thought since there is no hesitation coming from Shadow.

"I'll help you get a few clothes and then you give me that invitation," Shadow stretches his right hand. "Deal?"

Without hesitation, Amy accepts.

"Deal!"

"Deor?

"Valenchiaga?

"Guchi?"

When Shadow told Amy that he was going to take her out shopping, she thought she will be going to a thrift store. After all, she just needs a simple change of clothes.

"Amy, come on. I can't help you if you aren't listening," Shadow breaks her trance as he snaps his fingers in front of her. "Tell me what's your favorite brand so I can buy clothes accordingly."

"Um ... Torget?"

Shadow facepalms and just turns to look at the salesperson. "Just bring me an all Deor-black outfit."

"Yes, Mr. Hedgehog," the saleslady leaves elegantly.

It is an extremely luxurious shop. The ceiling has chandeliers, the floor is crystal. Everything shines and sparkles and Amy knew one thing for certain.

"Shadow, I can't afford this," she whispers to him as she follows him. He is looking at some pair of shoes from an illuminated stand. "Sonic Boom doesn't make that much money and you know that!"

"Calm down, I'll pay."

"Can we just go to a cheaper place? Like I don't know ... Walmort?"

"No, those places are filled with people. We will be spotted there," Shadow puts the pair of shoes down and picks another. "I brought you here because it's safe, only elite people know of this place and people get paid here to keep quiet on who comes in and out."

"Did you read the new First Impressions chapter?!"

Amy could feel her cheeks burn as she hears the name of her fanfic. It was one thing that people knew about it. But it is completely different when the actor who is the main love interest of your fanfic is aware of your writing.

Was Shadow aware? Of all of those fanfics, people would write about them? That she is probably one of the most popular ShadAmy fanfics out there?

"Stupid fanfiction," Shadow whispers but Amy is close enough for her to hear him. "If it wasn't because of that fanfiction, we wouldn't have to hide like this. Now everyone wants us to be dating and see romance where there is none."

Amy wonders how the same thing. She could not see what people see in them. Is it because they were opposites? Because Shadow gives off the 'bad boy' aesthetic and she is a 'good girl'?

What exactly did everyone see that makes them 'ship' them?

He is wearing an Alezander Mckeen suit. Shannel Cologne and some shoes that he didn't even recognize the brand of. It's definitely not his type of attire but he could get sued if he is seen wearing other brands that are not part of his contract. Or so his manager says. One of Mia's priorities is to keep his image safe and Shadow did not want her work to go to waste.

He parked his bike a few meters away from the castle. It's quiet here although from afar he can still hear the screams of fans and camera flashes. The only thing keeping them away is the enormous gate surrounding the lands of the castle and the guards who are there to protect it. It was easy to come inside however, as soon as Shadow showed his invitation, he was allowed to come inside the lands.

It's been 30 minutes and he is still not able to get off his bike.

His heartbeat is increasing and his hands are sweating.

Shadow is nervous ... but he has to act like he is not.

How many years has it been since he has seen her? Will she remember him? Absolutely. What a stupid question. The real question is whether she feels the same as him or not.

The famous actor feels a buzz inside the pocket of his suit, he immediately knew it was his phone. He takes it out and looks at the screen, it's a message from his best friend.

ARoseWithoutTorns#0923: Still down for tonight?

Shadow smiles and types right away as he makes a small detour into the royal garden. He could hear some music being played from the inside but he focused on texting first.

TheFanfictioner#0619: Absolutely. I just need to finish some work and I'll be heading my way.

By work, Shadow meant talking to Sally and re-opening past relationships. Nothing too serious, he just wants to clear some things up.

ARoseWithoutTorns#0923: Great. I'll let you know when I get there.

TheFanfictioner#0619: Can't wait to see you.

For a short second, Shadow thought that maybe that sounded a bit too romantic. But he completely disregarded the idea as it's more than clear that they are both friends.

He has to admit, that he is a bit scared. Mostly because he is a famous actor obsessed with fanfiction. Would she judge him? Probably not. After all, she is a fanfic writer. That alone made Shadow feel more relaxed.

He finally has someone he can talk about his favorite fanfics without being judged.

Suddenly, he hears talking. Jumping to the nearest bush, he hides away from the two walking figures.

Shadow recognizes that voice.

It's Sally ... and that blue hedgehog.

TheFanfictioner#0619: Can't wait to see you.

Amy puts her phone into her dress' hidden pocket. She is thinking of ways she can get to Momo's cafe without being followed by fans. It's possible but she is going to have to wear an all-black outfit and cover every single part of her body. Nonetheless, she is excited to meet the Fanfictioner. Finally, someone, she can talk to about fanfiction without being judged.

He said he wanted to help with her current situation. She still didn't know how exactly he will help but she didn't have too many options regardless.

What if he is a lawyer?

Whoever he was, Amy knew they will have a fun time.

She hears laughter coming from outside her window. Amy wouldn't have minded too much if it wasn't because she could recognize that laugh anywhere.

The pink hedgehog walks towards her balcony and looks down at the royal garden.

There she finds them.

They had spent the whole day yesterday together. After his team left him to talk to Sally, Sonic and she went to explore Acorn City and remember the old days. At first, he didn't want to say a word about what is on his mind. Sonic appreciated Sally deeply, but he also didn't want to get involved in Royal affairs.

He took her to the Royal Garden, known for its beautiful red roses and variety of flowers. More than a diplomatic conference, this ball gives off a different kind of conference. More of a social gathering than old people trying to discuss political matters.

Slowly walking through a path of grass, Sonic looks up at the sky. The stars are not as visible and he remembers how beautiful the night sky looks on Ancient Island.

"I want to be clear," Sonic clears his voice and then looks at the Princess. "My team and I follow no one. I don't know what kinda conflicts your nation may have gotten into, but we don't pick sides."

Sally sighs, this complicated things so much for her. She expected some preference coming from Sonic.

"I have to admit that tensions between other nations have been rising."

"Is there a possibility of a war starting?"

"No, I don't think so," she says, looking at Sonic's green eyes. "As long as we have the Hero of the Seven Island on my side ... I am sure the other Island won't intervene."

Sonic sighs heavily. He stops and looks at Sally, now he has a more serious aura around him. After all, he is right. A Princess will be a Princess and she has to protect her kingdom no matter what. Nonetheless, it is a bit disappointing to him that she contacted him just for her benefit.

"I am not against your Island, I am not against the others either. So don't think you will be using us as your 'weapon' for whatever political strategy you are thinking."

Sally just smiles and Sonic finds comfort in this. He never knew what she was thinking. And he does not think he ever will.

"That's fine with me. I know that if it ever comes down to it, you will choose me."

There are some flirtatious mannerisms in her voice and movements. Sonic only took this as teasing and he only takes it as that. With confidence in his voice, he replies.

"No promises."

They laugh a little without noticing how in the bushes a dark hedgehog is on the verge of vomiting due to the interactions between the two.

After a few seconds of silence, Sonic is about to leave but Sally stops him by grabbing him by the arm.

"Before you go, I have one question," the Princess slowly lets him go and Sonic noticed a seriousness in her face that was not there before.

"What's up?"

"Do you still want to marry me?"

On a few occasions, Sonic blushes and this is one of these moments. He quickly looks away and scratches his nose. Sally is too close to him for his comfort but it didn't bother him either.

"Oh, come on Sally! We were kids when I asked you that," Sonic puts his hands behind his head, or at least tried to. The black suit that he is wearing made it hard for him to move freely.

"Besides the whole royal thing is not my thing. I don't like staying in one place for too long."

"I know. I have a duty to my kingdom and you have a duty to the people," Sally completely lets go of him, and now she has a sad face. More than anything, nostalgic. "We would have never worked out."

He is genuinely worried mostly because he is not used to seeing Sally like this. Not seeing her being her usual self is heart-wrenching to Sonic.

"Why bring that up?"

"I am in an arranged marriage," she says. "My father gave me the option to marry any royal from any Island I wanted ... Or you."

He is not stupid. Sonic is aware of the position that he holds. Having the title of the Hero of the Seven Island has some power. People follow him. Sally marrying him will only give her more political leverage. But he is not one to take sides and he is not one to be tied down. Especially by someone he does not longer have romantic feelings for.

"I thought that if I had to choose between people I don't know and you ... I would choose you."

"Sally ... I am sorry, I-"

"No, it's alright.," she raises her hand and stops him from talking. She does not want his pity. " I knew this day will come. Like I've said, I have a duty to my kingdom and this is what I must do to protect them."

Sonic starts walking again, looking at the red roses that remind him of a certain pink hedgehog. He doesn't know if he is going crazy but he could feel a malignant stare coming from the bushes.

"So this dance ball ... is just to meet your suitors? Inst it?"

Princess Sally nods, knowing that they are going to have to go back to the castle soon. Tonight she has to meet many people and she is looking forward to seeing Shadow. She found it strange that Amy had asked for an invitation for Shadow but she immediately said yes. It's been years since they last talked and they also have many things to clear out.

"If there is anything else I can do to help-"

"You being here is enough," she interrputs him and instead gets closer to him. He couldn't deny how beautiful she is even when that sad face of her is still present. "Thank you, Sonic."

"For what?" Sonic asks as he begins to wonder many things. What if after the war they had chosen different paths? What if he had stayed with Sally in Acorn City? What if she had chosen to run away with him and live a life full of adventures?

He didn't know. The only certain thing is that it could never work out. It will be selfish of him to ask Sally to leave her kingdom behind. And Sally would never ask him to leave the adventurous life he loves so much.

"For being my first love."

Unconsciously, they get closer. It's no longer awkward or uncomfortable. There is soft music coming inside the castle, the wind caresses their faces, and the smell of roses made the scene out of fanfiction.

Sally closes her eyes, waiting for Sonic to kiss her. But that never happens. Instead, he kisses her forehead, making it all clear to her.

This is not a love story ... and if it is, then it is a tragedy.

Everyone is expecting her to be downstairs. But instead, she is on the tallest tower of the castle. On the outside balcony with bottles of alcohol on her table. Her laptop is open and she is typing.

Writing fanfiction.

She is supposed to be having fun, dancing, and maybe meeting some nice man to talk to. Of course only if that man is Sonic the Hedgehog.

Yes, it hurts her. Although she didn't know what they were talking about, their closeness is something she could never have with Sonic.

Although she has said multiple times to Sonic that her romantic feelings were non-romantic, it's all a lie.

"She saw him kiss her. So delicate and loving. As if he is afraid to hurt her, treating her like a treasure. Like a sweet song, a melody he could touch on his fingertips. Savoring each note, knowing the perfect rhythm of her lips."

"Shouldn't you be downstairs?"

Amy closes her laptop at the sound of his voice. She feels her cheeks getting warm and she didn't know if its due to the alcohol or the embarrassment of Shadow almost noticing her writing.

He is sitting on the marble deck railing. Amy didn't know how long he has been in there.

"How did you get here?!!?"

Shadow raises an eyebrow and raises one of his legs.

"I got air shoes."

Amy looks at him with disbelief as she stands up from her seat. She stumbles a little as the alcohol starts to kick.

Shadow immediately rushes to her side, holding her by the waist to make her regain balance. They were a bit too close for Amy's liking and she pushes him away delicately because even when she doesn't like being too close to him, she still appreciates him helping him out.

"I think I meant to ask ... Why did you come here?"

Seeing her discomfort, Shadow moves away slowly. There is not much to hide.

After the cruise trip and everything he told Amy, it will be easy to conclude that he has some type of feelings towards the Princess. Nonetheless, having that conversation didn't mean he is ready to talk about his actual feelings.

"You said that if I ever needed a friend to 'hit' you up."

The pink hedgehog didn't know how to react, she doesn't know what to say. But she feels an immense need to console Shadow. He is not himself. His back is curved, his eyes sorrowful and his ears are down. She didn't need to know. Amy could only assume what he went through. Probably something along the same thing she saw.

Most importantly, she couldn't believe Shadow in his own way and very deep down, sees her as a 'friend' ... whatever that means to him.

"I just don't know what's wrong with me!? Am I not pretty enough?!'

"I know that I haven't talked to her in years but she didn't even consider me for marriage?!!

They were drunk. Four empty bottles and they were going for the fifth one, not planning to stop. Not caring about how bad their headache will be like tomorrow. They were both heartbroken and alcohol can fix that momentarily.

They were sitting next to each other, the table full of bottles and their glasses. The stars and moon above them, and the wind is soft and refreshing.

"Anyways, ... what were you writing?"

Shadow points at Amy's laptop that's on top of the table. He hiccups as he waits for an answer. "I saw you typing furiously."

The alcohol has completely taken over and it's making all the decisions for Amy.

"Oh? I was writing fanfiction- Oh Chaos I forgot!

She starts looking for her phone, stumbling a little, and her vision is blurry. Amy finally finds it and almost drops it, she is struggling to open the app properly but manages properly.

"Wait! You write fanfiction?"

There is a certain glow in Shadow's eyes as soon as Amy said 'fanfiction.'

"Yes, but I forgot to I was supposed to meet with someone today!" Amy hiccups and quickly text her online friend even if her words don't make a lot of sense. "I need to text them."

After clicking 'send' she hears another phone go 'beep'

Shadow then pulls out his phone from his suit's pocket and looks at the screen.

It's a text message from ARoseWithoutTorns.

He looks at Amy and slowly points at the pink hedgehog.

"You are ... ARoseWithoutThorns?"

Amy gulps and takes a few seconds to respond.

"And you are the Fanfictioner?"

Shadow stays silent. He doesn't know if what he is going to say is the right thing to do but the alcohol made him speak the truth.

He nods.

Amy's eyes shine with delight as she holds Shadow's hands. She squeezes them so hard Shadow knows his hands are going to have bruises the next morning. But he didn't think about that. His only thought is the fact that he has his favorite fanfic writer is right in front of him.

"AHHH!"

They squeal in excitement as they jump off their seats and start to make circles around them.

It's at this moment that Shadow realizes that Amy won't judge him. With her smile and laughter, she lets him know that she accepts him. He didn't have to pretend. With her, he could be Shadow The Hedgehog, the guy who loves fanfiction and is cringy at times.

"Oh, my chaos I love your fanfiction!" Shadow says very loudly, feeling a sense of freedom rush through his body. "I always read them before going to sleep."

His words really hit her in the feelings. It's probably the alcohol that its enhancing her emotions nonetheless, they were very much real.

"I appreciate you so much for always commenting on my stuff, you don't know how much that means to me, I-" Amy hiccups and looks at Shadow. She feels relieved to have him, to meet him. To be able to see the real him.

To know that someone out there genuinely enjoys her writing. It's a feeling that can bring anyone to tears.

"If it wasn't because of you, I would have stopped writing a very long time ago."

"No, don't say that!" Shadow grabs Amy's hands as they come to a stop. He holds them dearly. Amy feels her cheeks heat up at the contact.

"The world deserves to read your writing!"

"I don't deserve you," Amy says as tears began to roll down her face.

"No, I don't deserve you! You are so cool!" Shadow didn't know why but he feels a sense of security around her. It's the alcohol, it must be. Otherwise, he wouldn't feel this many emotions at once. But he didn't care. Right now it's just them.

"You are the best writer and you helped me through a very rough time. Your writing has brought me so much comfort and I can't thank you enough."

His voice is so genuine that Amy's heart aches at feeling such happiness. Her tail begins to wiggle in excitement and her ears perk up. Their hands are still touching but Amy decides to break that and instead launch herself into Shadow to hug him. A hug that he fully embraces.

"I love you Shadow!"

She means this in the most platonic way possible. A type of love that close friends have. But she couldn't deny that may be that feeling could turn into something else.

"And I love you Amy!"

They stop for a second to look at each other. Their hearts are beating fast due to all the excitement.

And their faces were unconsciously getting closer and closer to each other.

So close.

Their lips were just centimeters away ...

And ...

News: I created a Twitter. If you want sneak peeks of the latests chapters you can follow me @/shadamywriter

For some reason, I can’t copy and paste italics in tumblr?!!! If anyone knows how to fix this please let know. It’s annoying to have to check and go back in the story to see what is in italics or not. That’s why I prefer Ao3/Wattpad. Anyways...

The last chapter of the year. I hope you all enjoyed it. Also, sorry if I haven't replied to yalls comments. I'll get into it ASAP. And thank you so much for commenting on this fic, it means the world to me and it helps me to stay motivated to write. This story was left unfinished due that I did not have a strong motivation to finish, but years later, I received lots of encouragement and comments from everyone to continue ... and here it is.

I want to apologize for all the grammar, spelling mistakes, etc for this story. I really got no time to edit :(

I want to thank each and everyone one of you for reading so far. I am thinking that this story maybe is separated into 2 'seasons.' Each season is made up of 15 chapters. There are many scenarios I can do with this premise and I just want to explore all of them properly. But I shall see. Please see this as some type of random shoujo anime in which plot consistencies don't matter much and you are just here to see the ship dynamics. Certainly, that's what keeps me writing lol.

Also, my story, 'Again and Again' will continue and have a full rewrite.

I need to finish writing the next chapter of my Levi fanfiction and after that, I'll continue writing this story. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed this.

Thank you for an amazing year. I hope to see everyone in the next year to come to.

Atte: Peaches

#shadow and amy #shadamy #shadow the hedgehog #shadow #shadowxamy #amyrose #Amy the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog #sonic boom #sonic fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #sonic the hedghog fanart #sonicthehedgehogfanfic #shadamyfanfic #shadamy fanfiction

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