#or... they do a good job of hiding it until they don't. inevitably someone around them will see how fucked up they are.

[byanyan]

byan in their fledgling verse being more depressed than ever because they feel even more abandoned now than they did in life. byan being angrier than ever because somehow, their life has become even more unfair and they feel like a stupid, worthless kid again, left to fend for themself and figure everything out on their own. again.

this manifesting some days in low energy and them struggling to bother leaving whatever hole in the wall they've crawled into, often sleeping through most if not the entire night. a suicidal urge to step out into the sunlight, but they're physically incapable of bringing themself to do it, to put themself out of their misery. a temptation to let themself get hit by a car just to fucking feel something. hunting around bars and clubs in order to feed on those who are drunk or high so they don't have to spend the night sober.

other times, it manifesting in increased volatility and destruction. they're faster to snap or resort to violence than ever before, many nights spent breaking things, destroying property, and beating anyone who gets in their way. the fights they get into for "fun" are more brutal, get taken farther than they ever used to, sometimes resulting in someone dead at their hands accidentally, still not knowing their new strength and thus not having proper control over it. being more prone to frenzy, but it being as easily triggered by desperate rage as by hunger.

byan being a fucking mess, isolated and furious and not knowing what to fucking do, and concealing this as best they can from the few people they have in their life.

#and they do such a good job of hiding it most of the time. a lifetime of practice has prepared them for this. #or... they do a good job of hiding it until they don't. inevitably someone around them will see how fucked up they are. #it's only a matter of time (': #idk man I woke up with a lot of fledgling verse feelings. I haven't delved all that far into how hard shit's been on them yet #no home... carrying all their belongings on their back at all times... had to abandon their old life entirely for this much worse one... #abandoned by what might as well have been another parent in the form of their sire... #aware that they're considered less than entirely bc they're a thin-blood... that some out there would kill them just for that... #in a lot of ways it does just feel like they're reliving their childhood but fucking worse (: #anyway. I'm getting carried away lmao I need coffee #━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ headcanon ⋮ danger in the fabric of this thing i made. #━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ verse: fledgling. #suicidal ideation cw

[hoseokslefteyebrow]

( Titleless)

Pairing : Platonic Miguel O' Hara X Teen, Daughter, Symbiote Reader

Genre : Mostly fluff, canon level violence, tinge of angst

Summary : Hiding your symbiote from your father was pretty easy. Until it wasn't anymore

Requested/idea by: @graesage

Wordcount: 1.2k

Miguel O'Hara Masterlist

You really shouldn't have messed around back in the day in Alchamex. While your father had been off and about his about multiverse research, you had slipped into the hallway and into a seperate room where you found a bunch of funny liquid looking vials.

There, you found Toxin. It had escaped from it's vial, and slipped under your skin. It was so quick, you thought it was okay. That nithing remoteable had happened, though you did have a funny feeling.

Until you had looked into the mirror that night, surprised to see someone completely different in there. Because it was still light outside, you had shaken your head, thinking it was just a funny trick of the light. It wasn't, and you fainted when you found out that it could speak.

When you woke again, you were on the couch. And you weren't alone. There was a new voice in your head, a new kind of power in your system.

Eventually, you got to test it out. And testing you did. Now you just had to hide it. You couldn't let your father know. Your father is spiderman after all, so hiding the symbiote was much more easier than expected.

He was always busy running the multiverse. And now, from time to time, you would join in to help. Your watch is concealed by Toxin's skinlike suit, which leaves people in question how you really enter different dimensions when you jump out of the same portal they do. Lyla was the one who had given you the watch, helping you keep it a secret.

For a good while, you manage to hide your identity quite well.

" What hapened?" You ask your father as he steps into his lab.

You were helping him do his job as you so often do, looking at his screens while he's out. You're munching on a bar of chocolate as he steps in.

He looks a little roughed up, which is expected after the rough fight with a Mysterio variant.

" That spiderwoman showed up again." He huffs, approaching the platform.

You hum.

" Is that bad?"

" Yes and no. She's helping out for some reason. But we can't manage to track her signal. Which is annoying. Also you should really lessen on the chocolate. You've been eating as much as an addict would the past few weeks." He points out, barely glancing at the treat in your hands, stepping onto the platform.

" I've always been addicted though. Besides, if this spiderwoman is helping, why is she an issue?" You point out.

He starts messing around with the screens.

" Not like the past few weeks, you haven't. I'm surprised you didn't gain weight. And because I don't know her intentions. A lot of villains were a friend before they turned sides." He points out.

" My chocolate addiction isn't that bad. But you're saying she's a spiderwoman. What's the harm? Maybe you should invite her on the team." You huff before shrugging.

" She's usually gone before I get as much as a chance to do so. And I'm not sure if she really is a spiderwoman. Her suit is just,, different."

-

It all comes down when a Clash variant escapes. You and Toxin were less prepared than expected, as Clash's powers involved high frequencies, including the ones you're sensitive to.

" You! You're no spiderman!" Clash calls to you, engulfed in Toxin's form.

Toxin cocks its head. " So what?" It asks before charging.

Clash fumbles around with his machine, before it releases a high pitched sound, which disturbs Toxin's form. And so the inevitable happens.

Toxin pulls back into it's liquid like, globby form, jumping away midair against its will. Meanwhile, you're now stuck falling towards the ground, with absolutely nothing to protect you.

From a distance, Miguel's eyes widen, and he reacts quickly. Setting off, he webs his way towards your plummeting form. He catches you barely a few metres from the ground, and you look up at him sheepishly while he glares down at you, obviously not happy.

" I can explain-"

He sets you down on the ground, glancing at your watch, the pieces falling in place in his mind.

" Go home. We'll talk later."

He turns around, readying himself back into the fight. You sigh. You don't want to stay on the side. Knowing arguing with him is useless, you turn, leaving in a random direction to find Toxin.

However, you're not paying attention, and your eyes widen as a piece of rubble comes right for you.

-

When you wake up again, you're in the med bay. You've been here to visit your friends when they're injured. It feels a little weird to be the injured one now.

You're not alone. You're missing Toxin's presence, but Jess is by your side.

" Hey." She smiles.

You try to smile too, even though it hurts. Everything hurts. The rubble got a good piece of you. Your entire body is hurting.

" I know you're in pain, sweetheart. Miguel's on his way, said he went to get something that might help." She tells you, setting a hand on top of yours.

You carefully nod, before closing your eyes to rest again. Jess stays with you, a comfortable silence settling over you.

Your mind is a bit of a mess. Toxin doesn't belong in the universe it's left behind in, which makes it an anomaly. You're worried for it's wellbeing. And you don't doubt that your father is mad at you. You just hope you can convince him to find Toxic, who can in turn heal you.

About twenty minutes pass before you hear the door open. And by the footsteps you can recognise it's your father.

" Hey. Can you leave us for a moment?  I need to talk to her." Miguel asks Jessica.

She sighs, but stands up nonetheless.

" Don't be too rough on her." She tells him, setting a hand on his shoulder before leaving.

The minute she closes the door behind her, you open your eyes.

" Dad, I-"

With a sigh, he sets a hand down on your own, and you're left surprised when a glob of red and blue forms and passes through his skin, and over yours, before settling itself into your skin.

Miguel watches with concealed amazement as Toxin's form devolps yours, your IV and whatever else was attached falling off as he speeds up your healing process. It only takes a moment, and soon enough he shrinks back into your skin, and you're feeling much. much better.

' I'm back.' Toxin's voice sounds through your mind.

" No shit." You whisper.

You stretch before turning to face your father.

" Does this mean I'm on the team?"

To your surprise, he nods. His hands placing themselves on his hips, signaling he has more to say.

" But we're going to set rules. I'm going to mentor you. And you'll need to listen to what I say, got it?" He tells you with a strict eyebrow up.

You smile as you nod enthusiastically.

" Yeah, of course!"

" And no more secrets, okay kid?"

" None. I promise!" You grin, engulfing him in a big hug.

He easily returns the embrace. a small smile making it's way onto his face.

[ A/N: If anyone knows a title feel free to share I do not lol. ]

#idkeitherman #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfic #spiderman across the spider verse #miguel o'hara x reader #x reader #miguel o'hara fluff #spider man 2099 #platonic miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x daughter reader

[tarnishedinquirer]

Case: Fort Haight

While traveling I came upon a particularly large ruin arch, bridging the gap between a cliff and a nearby hill.

As I approached, I heard someone calling out for help. Something told me that it wasn't the Demi-humans lurking below the arch. Instead, it was a pompous ass named Kenneth Haight. He looked at me like you'd look at something stuck on your shoe and couldn't even hide the contempt in his voice. Seemed disgusted that a mere Tarnished had been the one to rescue him.

He claimed to be the next in line to Limgrave, but I'll believe that when I see his pedigree. When he asked me to reclaim his fort for him, I was about to tell him to stuff it until he mentioned who had taken the castle from him.

"A knight commander from Stormveil took it. A fool, and plumb mad to boot! Simply obsessed with blood!"

That got my attention. Blood, huh? Another trace of this mysterious "blood lord"? Well, couldn't turn that down. His promised reward was as lavish as it was vague, but information is its own reward.

Speaking of which, he offered a wealth of information about Godrick. Granted, it was in the form of an unrelenting string of invectives, but it was nonetheless very informative. Doubts of Godrick's legitimacy, shameful defeats, dishonorable behavior... Granted, the source is a little biased, but I've seen nothing to contradict him either.

Had a detour on my way there involving a wolf, but I'll talk about that in a different entry.

Eventually I found my way out of the woods, but before I could assault the castle, I found myself with an army already at my back. Normally I'm better at detecting ambushes, but visibility is limited in the woods, so I rode right past a tribe of demi-humans.

They didn't really stand a chance, and after I took care of them, a nearby ghost gave me a little context. He said that the Demi-humans mother had been taken by the knight "bedeviled by blood." He implored Lord Kenneth to return, but I think his faith was a little misplaced.

So the demi-humans are attacking the castle to rescue their mother? I guess it's too much to hope for cooperation, but they could still serve as a distraction. I waited until the next wave charged up the hill and past the barricades, then looped around the back of the castle with Torrent.

Found some unusual flowers growing around the castle. Voice called the "Bloodrose" and it was easy to see why. They were slick with blood, seemed to be oozing out of their petals. It said they grow in festering blood. Cessblood, perhaps?

The voice said it was beloved by those who favored the Lord of Blood and added, "glory to his inevitable reign!"

It rarely editorializes to that extent. Was it on his side?

The demihumans did a good job distracting the the soldiers. The only one really standing in my way was a Pumpkinhead, and as tough as they can be, they don't do well against a wolf pack.

The courtyard was dominated by the massive corpse of the demi-human mother, but I didn't have much time to appreciate it before I was set upon by giant rats, presumably here for the feast. Long-necks (the first I'd seen alive) started throwing firebombs at me from above, so I had no choice but to press on.

The keep's master seemed to be your basic Godrick Knight, but as soon as he saw me, he swung his sword with an arc of blood, similar to Bloody Finger Nerijus. He was tougher than your average knight as well, but in the end, he was still just as predictable as his erstwhile brethren. He couldn't keep track of the glintblades when they were behind him.

I collected my spoils, including an ash of war for his bloody slash ability, and a Nomadic Warrior's Cookbook detailing recipes for Bloodrose. At the very top of the lookout tower, I found half a medallion depicting a masked figure.

The voice told me I could find its twin to the east, and that with the two I could get to the Altus Plateau, wherever that is. I've been east, and I don't plan to go back there anytime soon. If I gotta go to Altus, I'll probably find another way.

Task complete, I returned to Ken for my lavish reward.

A dagger. How generous.

All the voice had to say is that it was made from Erdsteel, had a grass crest engraving, and that it was a noble's self-defense weapon, all stuff I could have deduced on my own. Sensing my disappointment, he also offered to knight me into his service, all I had to do was visit him at the fort once he pacified the Demi-humans.

I'll go back and check on him later. Not because I want to be a knight to such a pompous ass, but because I want to see him squirm once he truly runs out of excuses.

Mystery: This case ties into the larger "Lord of Blood" mystery. Either Godrick was unaware of the usurpation at Fort Haight, or he supported it. If he supported it, then he must be allied to the Lord of Blood, and must have gotten something out of the arrangement. And somehow, killing the Demi-human Mother was part of the Lord of Blood's plans. I don't see the big picture here. There's nothing connecting the Lord of Blood followers I've met so far.

How does the blood knight connect to Nerijus?

Why did he kill the demi-human queen? Because blood touched by grace would not fester, and would not sprout Bloodroses.

Does Godrick know? If so, did he get anything out of it?

Is Kenneth Haight's claim legitimate? No.

Who can take the throne of Stormveil?

Post-script: I returned later to the castle. The Demi-humans had reoccupied it were none too pleased to see me, but still took orders from Kenneth Haight. So at least that part was true. Beyond that, he sounded utterly crushed. Gone was his haughty demeanor. He didn't seem pleased to see me either, but confessed that he didn't have the authority to grant me a title. He even admitted that he was not of the proper lineage and could not take the throne of Stormveil.

I'll give the guy some minor credit. He vowed to find someone who could take that throne. I'll keep a lookout, but it's a moot point until I unseat Godrick.

Additionally, during my adventures I recovered some beast blood. The voice informed me that blood with the gold flecks of grace would never rot or fester, which reminded me of how Kenneth Haight referred to the Demi-humans as outside the light of Grace. If Bloodroses grow from festering blood, then the blood of normal beasts and men could not be used. Only the blood of those who reject or are rejected by grace could sprout Bloodroses. A Demi-human queen would be a strong source of such blood.

#elden ring #elden ring lore #in character blog #let's play

[good-beanswrites]

We’re so far from the end of Milgram and yet. I am thinking about finale fix-it fics. because I already know Yamanaka isn’t going to shy away from killing characters and I'm pre-sad about it. I’ve expressed some other nice options here and here, but have another! Jailbreak >:3

(Just random silly thoughts I’ve been rotating in my head, don't take it too seriously) 

This is assuming Milgram is in a physical location with mostly realistic elements. (It’s a well-funded facility, but no magic or anything besides whatever’s going on with jackalope and the no violence ban.)

Trial three is coming to an end. Es knows it will end in death, but they know it'd be going against their duty to declare everyone innocent.

A mistake is made on the outside, and a chance opportunity arises: a temporary exit appears in the prison in Es’ room. 

They notice it at night, and make the split second decision to tell the others. They race to the cells, gathering everyone one and telling them to get out immediately. 

Most of them go willingly, though a few (Yuno, Fuuta, Kotoko) are suspicious of Es’ urgency. They manage to convince them that it’s not some twisted lie – Es knows how this will end and wants to give them a chance. 

As everyone’s filing out, it becomes clear Es isn’t going to step through. They say they can’t go – even though they’re taking steps to save the others, their duty remains to Milgram. They’ll stay and face whatever consequences arise as warden. 

Mikoto is like “fuck that shit, you’re just as much as a prisoner as us and you’re coming,” to the others’ agreement. “If they’re gonna punish you for helping us than we should make it look like it was all on us,” and he slings Es over his shoulder. They all take off into the unknown facility. 

The real fun part of the fic would be when they inevitable make it past guards/scientists, climb into a military-grade vehicle, and take off with authorities in hot pursuit. (I’m still deciding who’d be funniest as driver, though I’m leaning towards Kazui doing it because he feels responsible as oldest) Cue some classic comedy-drama bickering as they screech around the complex under fire. Fuuta trying to backseat drive. Mahiru in delirious giggles that she’s helping with a jailbreak, can you believe it? Her! Shidou shielding Amane as the vehicle bumps around/takes damage. Muu pointing out they’ve been going in circles. It’s revealed the driver doesn’t have their license. Es complaining that they shouldn’t be here but knowing it’s too late to get out. There’s much screaming and celebrating and panicking and tires squealing. 

One epic car chase later, they emerge in the surrounding woods, alone. They start making plans. I’m not sure who has the most geographical knowledge, but someone is able to piece together generally where they are. Mikoto knows a good deal about getting away with a crime, and starts walking them through how they’ll need to ditch this vehicle and where to hide for the time being. Kotoko has some connections, she can find out if Milgram is associated with the government or if they should go to the authorities about them. Muu’s parents are rich and from France, she’ll have them get everyone out of the country until things are figured out. 

They plan on reaching out to their families to let them know they’re alright. After some awkward silence from Es, Fuuta starts listing all the ways you can find someone online. He gets a bit embarrassed talking about the techniques (seeing as that’s how he ended up a killer,) but Es seems grateful for the help finding out who they are and if they have any family looking for them. 

As they drive, someone points out that these plans aren’t perfect. Milgram may be better equipped or more widespread than they know. There’s a high chance they’ll still be caught and potentially killed to keep quiet about the whole experiment. 

Shidou starts saying that a doctor’s job is to extend life so people can live as long and happy as possible, even when they know it won’t last. He points out that even if this isn’t a permanent escape, the extension of their lives and their happiness is still something meaningful. After all, if they’d just stayed in the prison to be executed, they would never have gotten this one last chance to see the sun.

Then they all watch the sun rise and it’s beautiful !!!!! The end

#milgram #i think everything is leading up to character executions #and i think it will be stellar writing to do that and ill be really satisfied with the ending #however. see also: i will be sad #and i have been endlessly entertained by imagining these 11 disasters crammed in a car having no experience breaking out of a prison #but making it out and being okay!!!! #fanfic #maybe? its not an actual fic but you know #i wont write any fix its until it actually ends because i want canon details about the actual prison too badly lmao

[granulesofsand]

Hi! Hope it's ok to ask this. First some background. We have DID. I don't know our trauma. Recently I told our therapist something I suspect may have caused our trauma. Based on patterns I've noticed and how we react to things. Being very careful not to make any assumptions, beyond what is needed to keep us safe.

But I was so scared. I don't know if I was more scared she would invalidate us, or that she *would* validate it because actually that is frightening too and a lot to process

It felt like a relief to say it. She reacted the best she could, though I thought there would be more shock. But now I feel so much. I want to cry and to scream and to panic. But I can't it's all locked inside and I seem too dissociated to feel any of it properly

Do you have any advice for how to process and express those feelings? Or how to handle them in a healthy way? (and also the inevitable "I shouldn't have shared that, I'm bad, I fucked up, oh fuck oh fuck" which I can also feel is coming)

If this was a normal week I would just take the dissociation but we can't do that this time. Would trying to help another alter to switch maybe help? Or is that an unhealthy way to get through the week? Nothing is written down so maybe I can take the memories back inside with me until they are safe to deal with :) (unlikely, but hey I can hope!)

Hello. We also struggle with expressing emotion, especially when it comes to crying or screaming. I saw a short video a few days ago on TikTok, a survivor raised in a high control group. They talked about having to learn each separately, then merge the skills to get the heavy sobbing that aids in processing.

I agree that outward displays help brains work through the associated emotions, and that it’s less of a struggle to practice crying and vocalizing one at a time.

We actually started trauma therapy by writing down whatever we remember as we’re out in the body, and most of our trauma memories were added after flashbacks. We gave ourselves the words, helped each other through language barriers and poor vocabulary. We started speaking the neutral memories, then some lighter trauma.

We talk to our therapist whenever one of us needs to move boundaries around, let them know whether we need facial or verbal expression of attunement or neither. They’re good with helping us connect memories unless someone asks them not to (though ‘asking’ can look like dissociation or self-soothing, because they know what to look for).

Some of us can cry. We seek them out, always looking for someone to prove our training wrong. Co-fronting with one who can cry shows us that the tears don’t burn, and our support people aren’t bothered by them, and we won’t be punished for it.

Most of us are still at the stage of running away from front when they start to cry, or tossing away the emotions that make them us want to cry. Both of those are dissociation, and we allow both so long as no insider has the job of taking the big emotions on themselves.

For us, the repeating phrases are usually insiders who hide in the mist of our fronting area. We can communicate with them when we can hear them, but we have to demonstrate that their watchers won’t tell on them to our perps. We do this by talking to them out loud, which is making noise that wasn’t allowed growing up.

The lead-up to talking out loud is the same we’re using to scream. We started when we were sick, trying to mouth words to express pain. Then we added in whispering, growing in volume. Once we could do a raspy voiced speech, we tried out keening sounds and whimpering. Our lowest level of vocalizing is either whispered speech or quiet noises, depending on the insider.

We also taught one another with the vocalizing, and we have a select few who can shout or howl or screech. Some angry ones learned how to be loud before the rest, and most of us are at the level of vocalizing. The only groups we don’t expect to learn are the Deaf or non-speaking folks, because we don’t consider disability to need fixing if we can accommodate it, and we make sure they have the choice either way.

For other healthy outlets, consider exercise that raises your heartrate. It can trick your brain into acting regulated after, because it assumes the survival mode chemicals came from that. Punching bags and strength workouts can be good for angry insiders who might otherwise enjoy violence, and it can make the fearful ones more confident in your self-defense ability.

We find some chores to be help us calm down, one way or another. Some folks find laundry cathartic. Personally, I like chopping wood. We sew, and some of us like to rip woven fabrics for later use.

If you can’t do physical labor, there’s also innerworld activities. We have someone who enjoys summoning mugs and shattering them on the ground if you have tactile or auditory imagination, safe spaces if you have visual, good old drawn or sculpted models if you don’t have vivid internal sensation.

Sometimes we just curl up with a warm mug and a hot water bottle, or take a cold shower. Both of those can regulate your nervous system with temperature, though you should probably void shout whether anyone would be opposed to those (neglect and torture can both include these as traumas). If it’s showers specifically that aren’t working, ice packs and stone tiles can be good too.

We prefer making dissociation work for us than making it stop, so we do utilize switching pretty heavily. Eventually, the one switching away will have to confront their problems to heal them, but systemwide problems have systemwide solutions. You can use switches as much as you like, and we’ve seen systems heal by integrating (not necessarily fusing) different members and by healing members individually.

I don’t have a firm solution, as we’re still working on one that suits us, but we have made progress. I hope one of those makes your situation better, too.

#osddid #did osdd #cdd system #adaptive system #traumagenic system #pluralgang #plurality

[gnattyplayssims]

1952 Pt2 - The Spice Festival

Ava was growing far too fast for Sofia to keep up and it was inevitable for her to miss some milestones. Before she knew it little Ava was rolling over.

"Stop growing up so fast Little Bird, I can't keep up." She chided when she came home one day to Ava sitting in her crib.

Most mornings Sofia would come home and get a few more hours of sleep with Ava cuddled against her but once Ava started sitting up sleep became a thing of the past.

"Mama!" Ava would babble poking her mom with her little hands and wiggling around the bed until Sofia got up.

One morning Ava was playing with her toys while Sofia got dressed. Ava tumbled over as she tried to reach. Sofia entered the room just as Ava pushed herself to all fours. "Ava! Look at you!" Her mother's reaction startled her and she plopped back onto her stomach

"Oh. I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you. Good job, we'll try again later."

The door opened and her heart jumped until she saw it was only Nikolas. "Hey, you just about ready?"

"No. The nanny isn't here yet and I still need to shower. Would you watch Ava?"

"Uh...sure"

He noticed the omelets on the counter. "You cooked this morning?"

"Oh Celia made those last night. I forgot to put them in the fridge."

"You didn't eat them for breakfast did you?"

"I...won't now..."

"Good," He turned back toward them. "Dear Watcher. She's a mess."

Sofia smiled and handed Nik the jar. "I won't be long."

"Alright Ava, what do you say we try some of this cereal. You'll like these way more than that mush."

"NO!" Ava dumped the bowl of cereal on the floor.

Nik sighed, "Okay oatmeal it is. Sure hope your mom hurries."

By the time Sofia got out of the shower, Ava was a mess. "What did you do Nik?"

"Nothing! This child doesn't know how to keep anything in her mouth."

Sofia laughed, "I know! Oh she pushed herself up today."

She tried to show him but Ava was not having it. "Another day, Sof."

Celia finally showed up a little while later and the two made their way to the Spice Festival. The sights and smells were like nothing Sofia had ever experienced before.

"What's that?"

"A curry challenge to see if you can handle a little heat"

"Oh, I can handle heat."

They each took a plate and Nik took a bite without hesitation. He tried to keep a straight face but not even the Stoic Nikolas could hide the pain. He immediately broke into a sweat and Sofia laughed.

"Is it that bad?" She took a bite of her own. "Water! I need water!"

Sofia headed to the food stall to get a glass of water. "Sorry miss, no water without a purchase."

"But my mouth is literally on fire. You can't withhold water."

"Unless you're a plantsim, you don't need water to survive, so make a purchase or get out of my line."

Sofia felt a hand on her back. "Did you get the water, Dear."

"Are you her husband?"

"Uh yes. She was just getting free water."

"Free water with purchase. But she says she has no money."

"Of course not! I wouldn't let my wife carry the wallet. Here curry and somosas please."

"Thank you!"

"Of course. These vendors see a cute young lady and think they can get away with robbery"

"But you still paid him"

The man shrugged, "It was worth it."

Sofia took a big bite and instantly regretted it. "Maybe some smaller bites until you're used to the flavor"

Soon Sofia lost all track of the time. "That book sounds amazing!" Jamal handed her another plate "Here try these. They're just a little spicer but have a sweet undertone you'll love."

She took a bite and a smile lit up her face. "You have to put these ones in your restaurant!"

He took her empty plate and returned it to the vendor. Suddenly the air was electric. "I...guess I should get back. Nikolas is probably wondering where I am."

"Ah. I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were here with someone."

"Oh! I'm not really. Nik is just a really good friend."

He took a step forward and she instinctively took a step back. "He probably didn't even realize I'm gone. There was this girl making faces at him when we came in any bets he's with her."

Jamal laughed, "Ah. Lucky man."

"I had a really good time talking with you."

"Me too."

Sofia looked over her shoulder, scanning for Nik. "I guess...maybe I could wait for him to find me. I don't really want to wander alone."

"That's probably a good idea." His voice was closer and she whirled back around as he lifted his hand to her face. "I'll stay with you

Her eyes widened in fear as he brushed the hair from her face. "Sorry, there was something in your hair." But his hand didn't leave.

"Please don't touch my face."

He dropped his hand back to his side. "I'm sorry. I felt a connection. I thought you did too."

"I do...I just..."

"It's okay, Sofia. You don't have to explain. I overstepped." He took her hand, brushing his thumb over the butterfly ring. "Maybe next time I see you, you can tell me some more."

"Next time?"

"If you'll allow it."

"I think...I'd like that...but I have a daughter."

He paused for a moment. "I guess that's another story you'll have to tell me." He placed his hand on her shoulder and leaned in brushing his lips ever so gently against her cheek. "If you're ever in Mirage Canyon come visit the restaurant."

"O-o-okay. I will."

"Sofia! Sofia!" Nik's voice finally broke her free of the spicy haze surrounding them.

"I should go."

Jamal nodded. "Okay I'll see you again."

"You will." She turned away, trying her hardest to contain her excitement. Jamal watched her until she was safely with Nikolas.

1953 Pt1 - A Flower in the Desert

#mizrahi legacy #dandy generation #decades challenge #sims 4 storytelling #ts4 storytelling #ts4 legacy

[c4tn1p-ars3nic]

tell me about vaelox and fabbri pls pls pls !!!

This got a bittt long!! So first paragraph then the rest under the cut!

They're as close to adopted siblings as you can get, troll-wise. Vaelox prefers to say that it "pities Fabbri enough to let him stay", but it didn't call them "Junior" a bit for nothing! And it's been like, what, half a sweep?? If Vaelox didn't like them, it could've reported him or killed him by now.

Depending on the iteration, Fabbri doesn't have a lusus because he's a limeblood. He generally doesn't have anywhere to stay, so he hops from place to place "borrowing" things. He's taught himself self-reliance and ways to defuse situations.

So you've got this particularly small, 4 sweep-old thief in the home of a 6 sweep purpleblood who knows that its going to start killing trolls for a job. Or hobby or whatever, purplebloods are particularly unique and I haven't quite gotten there yet. Scary!

But Vaelox is just very tired all the time. It hasn't been able to sleep well for a while and it doesn't do well with crowds and loud noises. It has a smaller hobby of carving wooden figures, so it prefers to be left alone and is annoyed to find someone in its home. Fabbri, in his infinite 8 year-old wisdom of situation deescalating, offers to do chores in exchange for sleeping on the floor or at least staying alive. Vae is just kind of like whatever, it'll deal with them later in the morning. And then doesn't.

So Fabbri hangs around in the relatively safe area, hiding his blood color and just calling himself an oliveblood. He and Vaelox both happen to share an interest in wolves and cats, so he is slightly less annoying. Vaelox still thinks that he asks too many questions for his own good.

So, with Vae's hobby of woodcarving, its hive is full of a LOT of sharp tools that's bad to be around if you were a troll who happened to wish to hide his blood color. The inevitable happens and Vae realizes that it can't just send Fabbri off when he's old enough or whatever, and decides to make his residency permanent. It'll figure out a way to explain that, somehow. Right now it settles with "pity".

In this arrangement, Vaelox takes a number of measures to try to protect Fabbri. While it may not have liked his presence as a stranger before, he's a friend now, and your friends have got to be protected. Vae forbids Fabbri to chat online until he's 6 sweeps old, but he has the tendency to use Vaelox's accounts anyway. As long as he doesn't do anything to get himself killed, it's fine. When he gets accounts, he's only allowed to type in either grey or purple. Vae prefers he types in purple, because it believes that typing in grey can make others suspicious of you. In the early days, Vae gives Fabbri some of its clothes to wear. It has since gotten thing with the purple equivalent of his sign. It's insistent that he calls himself Capripio, and insists that others heard him wrong if he ever refers to himself as anything else. Vae helps him put on makeup when they go out.

When it comes to Fabbri helping Vaelox with its sleeping habits, there's just something about him. A light of its life, if you may. He's relatively stable on the outside, but it's not clear why he's able to decrease the chances of experiencing nightmares. They don't seem aware of it either. Vae chalks it up to him being too cute in a puppy way to make it want to kill anyone.

#arsenic.cab #arsenic.cmd #sodalite mews #there's also this headcanon about limes having white hair! in that instance fabbri does have white hair but he does't necessarily have #access to ways of cleaning his hair so it's dark! vaelox helps him dye it when they start living together. #this leans a bit on the incoherent side i think but it was fun to write out!! i didn't have much besides 'they live together because vaelox #feels like its responsible for keeping fabbri safe' #i'd have to learn a bit more about how purplebloods work like. religionwise etc to get a better grasp on vae but until then!! #vaelox lazruz #fabbri naadis #arsenic.wmdb

[whosscruffylooking]

The Purest Things- Repeating History

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Brief mentions of murder and alcohol. Canon typical violence.

A/N: this takes place during season 3 episode 11, birthright. i had a lot of fun studying this episode and making it my own. i have changed certain dialogue and who says what for the sake of the story. please enjoy!

The Purest Things Masterlist

(my gif! please credit if you use.)

january 2008

Syd Moore said, “Disregard for the past will never do us any good. Without it we cannot know truly who we are.”

+++++

Your alarm is often hushed before it even has an opportunity to set off nowadays because you usually wake up before it even has the chance.

4:25 A.M.

You groan and toss your pillow over your face. Maybe, just maybe, you can will yourself to sleep for a little longer. As if someone heard your pleas for slumber, your phone starts buzzing on your bedside table. Of course, it is unnecessary for you even to read the messages. There is a case.

+++++

"Last night in Fredericksburg, a 20-year-old woman, Molly McCarthy, was abducted," J.J. begins, "She's the third to go missing in the last 6 weeks. All disappeared from public places. No one's seen them since until now. A couple days ago, body parts with cigarette burns were recovered from a national park that was once the site of the battle of Chancellorsville."

"Were they able to make an I.D.?" you and Hotch ask simultaneously. Your eyes meet, but he breaks the contact abruptly. Flustered and insecure, you bury your focus deep into the file in front of you. The group discusses the case for a couple of minutes, but you are so concentrated on the papers that you hardly absorb any information they've shared.

There is something familiar about this case to you. Suddenly, realization strikes.

Rejoining the discussions, you say, "I remember reading about a case like this in Spotsylvania county. Similar markings on the bone. It was the winter of 1980, also in Fredericksburg. There were 5 women aged 16 to 24. They were buried in pieces."

"Same markings. Same civil war battlefield," J.J. responds in agreement.

The team agrees that this could be the works of the same killer. There are aspects of the more recent killings that would be impossible to copycat since those details had never been released to the public. But, if this is the same unsub, what's he been doing for the past 27 years?

+++++

Hotch focuses on the road while you watch out the window of the passenger seat. Occasionally, you sneak the odd peek at him. His stoicism is alluring, and you find yourself drawn to this demeanor like a moth to a flame. Piecing together the tiny glimpses you've collected thus far as if working on a mental puzzle, you scrutinize his attributes. His eyes bare the beginnings of crow's feet. Only his sideburns tease the speckling of salt and pepper undertones. His lips turn downwards at the corners, no doubt from years of scowling at unsubs.

Reid speaks up from behind you both and breaks your train of thought. Probably for the better, there's no reason why you should examine your unit chief so intently.

"It's funny--he always dumps the bodies in this battlefield, no matter what the risk."

"It's a respected landmark. He's flaunting," Aaron reckons.

"It makes him feel important," you say in agreement.  

Once you have arrived at the crime scene, you follow Agent Hotchner closely. Reid trails ahead, most likely trying to keep up with his own train of thought.

"How does someone not see or hear them?" You ask the sheriff.

He turns to you with a defeated expression, "It was dark. He had the advantage. Molly's boyfriend was the last person to see her. He said she was alone for a minute, maybe less."

Hotch surveys the surroundings, "He's patient and works fast."

"He's perfected his M.O.," Reid states while looking around.

You cross your arms as a wave of unease gets the best of you as you envision the moments leading to Molly's attack.

"If our unsub's pushing 60, he's gotta be strong enough to carry her a long way without her struggling," you bring out.

Hotch looks to you with a concerned squint. You shake your head, signaling to him that it's nothing you can't get under control. He nods in response. The sheriff agrees to point out the various entrances to the park.

"I'll catch up with you," your Unit Chief states. He motions for you to step aside with him, and you comply.

"You know, ever since my wife and I had our son, I dread receiving cases involving children," he discloses to you.

Tears well up in your eyes, "I can't even imagine, but sir, why are you telling me this?"

"This job will inevitably strike close to home on some cases more than others. It's okay for you to feel overwhelmed by it all every once and a while," he assures you.

"You never lose it, though."

He sighs heavily, "Maybe I should have."

Shortly before you joined the BAU, Hotch's wife Haley left with their son Jack. You never ask questions or stick your nose where it doesn't belong. It isn't your place, and you can't blame him for not wanting to bring his family struggles to work. He deals with enough broken families on the job as it is. Mixing his own personal life into the field would only make it more challenging to prioritize. Despite all this, you cannot help but wonder what exactly led to his and his wife's separation. You hope that they can find their way back to each other. The crimes you investigate do not need to claim the Hotchner's as victims as well.

+++++

"I'll let you talk to Chrissy Wilkenson," Hotch directs you towards the kitchen. You wipe your sweaty palms against the fabric of your pants and make your way into the kitchen, Hotch following closely behind you.

"Mrs. Wilkenson," you say gently, "My name is Y/F/N. I have just a few questions about your husband. Where does Charlie usually go when he's stressed?"

"The barn," she stutters. You can tell she's anxious and afraid for the well-being of her family.

"Anywhere else, Chrissy?"

Hotch is called into the other room, and you continue questioning Chrissy. She's becoming overwhelmed, so you guide her to the dining room.

"I know this is difficult, Chrissy."

"Did the father of my child really do that to those poor women?" She cradles her baby bump.

Your heart breaks for her, and you choose to remain silent. Sometimes saying nothing speaks louder than words.

Footsteps bound throughout the house, and Hotch appears in the doorway, "The sheriff will stay here with Mrs. Wilkenson. We need you with us."

Standing up from your chair, you place your hand atop Chrissy's, "History doesn't have to repeat itself." It is almost as if she could tell you were reading her thoughts. The endless whispers that cloud her mind making her feel like she's left with only one choice, but there's always another option. That is all you are trying to remind her of.

+++++

As you and your team trek through the forest, you see a clearing.

"Hotch, this way," you beckon him to pursue your course.

Suddenly, a gunshot rings out, and you stop in your tracks. You make eye contact with Hotch and mirror each other's actions, dashing towards the opening in the trees. Your heart pounds in rhythm with your footsteps colliding against the ground. It is clear to you from your exchange with Chrissy at the house that the origin of the gunshot will shock everyone but yourself. As you reach the clearing and rush down the hill, your speculation is validated.

Chrissy Wilkenson is standing over the body of her husband, the unsub. A traumatized young man haunted by his father's past and plagued by the idea that children are trapped in the endless cycles created by their parents.

I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Jesus. Now is not the time for that.

The newly widowed woman claims self-defense, yet the cops handcuff her anyways. Inside, you feel conflicted while watching her get into the back of the squad car.

Hotch appears by your side but remains silent. Again, sometimes silence speaks louder than words. You bit your lip, attempting to hide the fact that it is trembling.

"What did you say to her as you were leaving the dining room?"

"I told her that history does not have to repeat itself. I wanted her to know that even when it feels like you are backed into a corner, there is always another way out. Sometimes people don't know where to look for their out thought," you quiver.

He lightly touches your arm and gives you a reassuring tilt of the head, "Just know that you did everything you could. We will never do this job perfectly. Doing the right thing usually costs more than it pays. You did your part.  I'm not a saint, and I am far from a hero, but I have integrity and honor, and I do this job to the best of my ability."

"If you can leave a case with a clear conscience," he continues, "you know you did the best you could. Any other thought process will eat away at you slowly but surely, and ultimately, it will result in the demise of your career and destruction of yourself."

+++++

After a seemingly neverending day, you all arrive back at Quantico.

"I could really go for a drink, guys. What do you say? Newbie's buying," you wave your wallet around frivolously.

"I could go for 5 drinks!" Prentiss exclaims.

"Count me in," Morgan winks at you. He never fails to make you blush.

Reid hesitates and you pout your bottom lip, "Please Reid! How could you not want a repeat of Dolly Parton night last month?"

Hotch comes down the stairs, "Dolly Parton night? Do I want to know?"

You and Derek snicker to each other as Spencer attempts to diffuse his own embarassment.

"9 to 5 is an iconic female anthem that certainly has a rather bewitching affect on a man when mixed with alcohol."

"You only drank Diet Coke that night," you roll your eyes at him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Hotch forcing his way through the small group formed around the desks.

Making your way over to him, you invite him to join, "Want a beer?" You second guess yourself, but it seems as though his rather stern expression softens ever so slightly when he pivots on his heels to look at you.

"I would like that," he answers softly.

He immediately returns to his original path and hovers near the glass doors. You casually make your way over to him, joined by Dave and Emily. A man barges in through the glass doors announcing Aaron's name.

"Agent Hotchner?"

"Yes," the subject in question breaths out almost defeatedly.  

The yellow package he holds in his hands is all too familiar and instantly churns your stomach into knots. You gnaw at your bottom lip, drawing a metallic taste that causes you to cringe.

"What is it?" Emily speaks up.

There's no question as to what it is. Oh Hotch. I’m so sorry.

Hotch's eyes trace the package from corner to corner in disbelief, "Haley's filing for divorce. I've been served."

When he eventually takes his eyes off of the lettering, his eyes meet yours. They lock onto you and it is in that moment that you feel as though you have been given the key to unlock his soul. His eyes are so unusual at this moment; they are more vulnerable than you have ever seen. The stoic man is gone, and instead, it is the eyes of one who is in tremendous pain. You had mistaken his bloodshot eyes for physical fatigue on the plane, but now you see that it is emotional exhaustion as well.

If only you knew how badly I want to hug you and tell you that you won't be swallowed up by this darkness. There's a long road ahead, but you have so many people here who love you and are here to support you through this. You aren't alone. Trust me, I know.

In some way, you pray that he can read into your soul and see the pain you feel for him. Once more, your shared silence proves to speak for itself.  

At last, he breaks eye contact with you and finally releases the breath that you had been holding in. Dave grabs onto your arm, seeing the clear impact Hotch's news has on you, no doubt having also noticed Hotch's immediate response in looking at you.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think I can join you tonight," he excuses himself and escapes to the seclusion of his office.

Maybe history does have a way of repeating itself.

Tag List:

@chellybear98​ @destiny-tsukino​ @wanniiieeee​ @sweetiecake180 @vampiracontessa​ @weexinling​ @spaghetti-dad187 @hothskies​ @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos​ @mac99martin​ @clairedragonessbaker @cecemariee7302​ @halloweenwithreid @megans-txmblr​ @theoldestguard @purpledragonturtles​ @chazubagi​ @frogrrylovebot @agentaaronhotass​ @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @mcntsee @ssagube @softhetixx @kenzies-mr-j @peachyotps @cat11-2 @prettylittlemoonlight @ravenmoore14 @gubs-boobs @spencerreidsoulmate @joyclubie

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds reader insert #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner angst #hotch x y/n #hotch x reader #hotch x you #aaron hotchner headcanon #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #imagine #derek morgan imagine #derek morgan x reader #criminal minds headcanons #thomas gibson #fanfiction #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #the purest things series

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas]

could you maybe do a short fic of a yiga halloween?

Oh fun! I'm getting into the spirit myself! Gonna make some doughnuts for the Halloween baskets! I'll show you guys pics of them tomorrow if you want, but for now, let's get to these guys!

"This is the best mission ever."

"Better than the time you had to seduce that woman for answers?"

"...come back to me on that, actually."

Cil sighed. Unfortunately, his Master loved Halloween (also known as dark day to some zora) so much, he was determined to make it quite the big night. Not just with a party back at the clan headquarters, but with candy. And stolen candy tasted MUCH better than homemade. It was the mission that Cil was stuck on, alongside Von. Their goal? Steal as MUCH treats from the royal kitchen as possible, and bring it back home.

They were both currently in the royal kitchen, hiding amongst the rafters above. Von nudged him, looking down at the trays and trays of snacks and goodies.

"Oh oh oh, dibs on that tray of fudge. Oh and those cookies-"

"You idiot. You're thinking too small. This is for Master Kohga, not for you, nor for me. It has to big. It has to be perfect."

Cil grabbed his chin, and turned it. So he can glance at the giant cake before them. Black and purple frosting, covered in orange, white, and green sprinkles. Von grinned, nodding his head furiously.

"You are SO smart, Cil."

"I know. You'd be fucked without me. Now, here's the plan. You go into the hallway, make a big scene-"

"So just. Show up?"

"In disguise, idiot. They'll search this place high and low if they find so much as a sniff of a yiga presence. I don't know, be a dumb maid, fake an injury or something."

Von grinned, nudging Cil with his elbow.

"You just wanna see me in a maid outfit, huh? You COULD just ask~"

"Right, right."

"I'll feed you to the keese if you don't get out of my face."

With that, Von disappeared. Cil waited until until there was a smash sound in the hallway, before he jumped down onto the floor. He rolled his eyes at the fake distress from Von's end, before he hurriedly lifted the Cake over his shoulder, as well as stuffing whatever was around him, in his pockets. He gave a whistle to let Von know he was in the clear, and just like that, he poofed back home. He waited at the entrance until Von inevitably followed him. His pockets were FAR more stuffed than his own, but Von was always a better pick pocket.

"You. Would not believe what it took, to get back here."

"Knowing how stupid you are, I'm not surprised. Come, Kohga will be pleased by our success."

"You want help carrying that?"

"And share the glory? Absolutely not."

Von shrugged. Cil was just like that, so he wasn't too phased. He followed Cil into the clan, adding the treats to the table. They looked good next to the bananas, honestly.

"Cil, Von! You two are back!"

They both bowed to Kohga upon hearing his voice. Kohga inspected the goods, and nodded in approval.

"You two did GOOD! Getting that giant ass cake- pretty ballsy."

"It was all Cil's idea. I did the brownies though."

Cil tried not to let his heart come out of his chest as Kohga lifted his chin to look at him. Oh, moments like this made life absolutely worth living.

"Well. Someone's a smart boy, aren't they?"

Cil fumbled with his words, barely keeping himself on his feet. Oh Master Kohga, so glorious and-

"Oh Sooga! You're back too!"

And taken. Unfortunately. Cil watched with a snarl as Kohga was on Sooga in an instant, curious about that giant bag on his shoulder.

"Apologies for my tardiness. Had to make sure I got your favorites."

Sooga dumped the bag on the table. All sorts of wrapped sweets sprawled over the table, making Kohga's eyes gleam as if they were gold coins.

"Look at YOU Sooga! Course you'd do the best job, my good boy~"

Sooga let his face be grabbed by Kohga's hand, relishing in the touch. Cil, ever wanting to compete with Sooga, cleared his throat.

"Master Kohga. Why don't you have the first slice of cake? You look starving."

"Good point, good point. Sooga, check out the cake they nabbed! Big deal right?"

"Quite. Even I must concede, it's an impressive victory."

Sooga cut a piece for Kohga, before handing him a slice. Sooga inspected it, curiously.

"What...what is that filling? It's not apples. Not bananas..."

Kohga suddenly slapped a hand over his mouth, dropping the plate, and started to gag. The three of them jumped to attention, fearing the worst.

"IT'S F I S H."

Sooga turned to the cake, helping himself to a bite. Yep. Cake. Porgy, if he had to be exact. Sooga shrugged.

"If you don't like it, I'll eat it in your stead. I rather enjoy the contrast of-"

"SOOGA SHUT THE FUCK UP- oh my god, YOU, get me a banana. Ew ew ew..."

Cil looked mortified, having displeased his Master so. Von meanwhile, just stood there, trying not to laugh.

"Guess Rhoam knew we were stealin' stuff. We got a trick AND a treat, eh?"

"I'm. I'm gonna puke..."

#asks #Kohga #Sooga #Cil #Von #ngl to me this was hilarious #don't worry tho Sooga loved the cake and Kohga got some non fishy goodies in him

[ewwhothefuckiski]

You Said Forever- Joshua Bassett

Joshua Bassett × fem!reader

Requested: no, I was trying to sleep and suddenly had this idea so here we are.

TW: Swearing, angst, emotional trauma, mentions of death

Taglist: @tclklater @spicygemini17 @bonobos-candy-bar @kaylinfayezink @jxznotfound {lmk if ya want to be added!!}

A/N: I apologise in advance 🤧 you can thank @hermes-creature and @nickalicious for fueling this fire. And yes this was heavily inspired on his new ep and Olivia's Driver's License. No not for the drama

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Love is hard. It can be wonderful, breathtaking. But it can also be painful, soul crushing even. When you fall in love, you give someone your all, you hand over your heart and pray that they don't break it.

But they will- It's inevitable.

Or at least, that's what Y/N told herself as she sat alone in what used to be her and Joshua's bedroom, holding their promise rings and letting out heart wrenching sobs.

She looked around, every picture of her and Josh like a new slap in the face. She looked back down at the rings, screaming as she threw them at the mirror resting on their dresser, shattering the glass.

Her hands tangled into the roots of her hair, tugging as she hugged her knees into her chest, rocking back and forth letting the sobs rock her body.

-

She didn't think Josh would leave her, he had been by her side since they were 16. But he did. They screamed at each other until they were red in the face; him eventually giving up and packing his bag.

Y/N screamed at him more, this time with tears streaming down her face.

"Why are you doing this?" She cried, grabbing his arm and turning him to face her. "You are the one who's in the wrong here, and you just decide to leave?"

Joshua felt his heart break as he stared at the girl. She was broken, hurting- and it was his fault.

But then he thought back to her words from earlier, anger flaring in his chest again.

"I'm in the wrong here? Y/N, you blamed me for cheating on you because of your insecurities. You scream at me after I come home from filming, because you're jealous. I told you nothing was going on with Olivia. But you can't get it through your damn head. You made me choose between you and my job. So I did, and I choose my job. Don't try and put this on me."

"I thought you loved me." She sobbed, wrapping her arms around herself; an attempt to keep herself from falling apart.

Joshua sighed as he zipped his bag shut, turning to face her.

"God Y/N. I do love you, I love you so much- and I always will. But we can't do this anymore. We aren't good for each other."

"You promised me forever." She whispered, staring down at the ring sitting on his finger. He followed her gaze, his heart breaking as he realized what she had been looking at. He slipped the ring off of his finger, gently placing it in her hand, before placing a soft kiss on her forehead. He grabbed his bag and walked to the door, turning to look at the girl who stole his heart all those years ago one last time.

"Goodbye Y/N." He whispered, turning on his heel and shutting the door behind him before she could see the tears running down his face. He stood there for a minute, hearing her sobs through the door, before flinching as he heard glass shattering as she screamed. He sighed and continued his journey to his car, before he finally pulled out of the driveway and left the love of his life behind him.

×××

Joshua shouldn't have had the time to feel the deep ache in his chest with each waking minute that passed without Y/N by his side- HSMTMTS had hit it off and soon his career was launched into full swing. His fans demanding an EP, him booking auditions, all while doing interviews back to back about the "love triangle" between him, Olivia, and Sabrina- but he did.

The fans had all assumed that Josh's sudden change in behavior was because he and Olivia called things off, but in reality, he just hadn't been himself since he left Y/N.

Everyone but him had saw it. So Olivia and Sabrina had been spending a lot of time with him, trying to cheer him up. But the fans read to much into it.

Josh knew Y/N was seeing the articles, he knew she definitely didn't believe him now. All he wanted was to take back the day he walked out on her. But he couldn't, it was too late. She was better off without him now.

At least, that's what he told himself.

Little did he know, Y/N had fallen into the darkest state of depression after he left. She didn't leave her bed unless she had to. She cried, a lot. She didn't have the motivation to get up in the morning, to do the basic things such as take a shower, brush her teeth.

What was the point?

Her friends tried calling her, coming over to help her get out and do something, but she had lost any part of her soul she had left.

When Joshua left her, he took her heart with him. She gave him everything, just to feel like nothing in the end. She loved him with every fiber in her body, and that was the hardest thing for her.

Before she met Joshua, she had been left time and time again. First by her parents, and then eventually anyone she's ever came to care about. She shut everyone out after that, afraid to get attached again.

And then there he was. The brown eyed messy haired boy in the back of the coffee shop.

He looked terrified. His hands were shaking, his face pale, breaths coming up short. She knew that look all too well.

"Hey! Hey look at me."

He snapped his head up to look at the young girl, his brown eyes wide as she talked to him.

"Breathe with me ok? In through the nose for five seconds, out for ten."

She demonstrated what she meant, smiling when the boy started to copy her actions.

"Good, just like that. Again."

She took his shaking hands into hers, interlacing their fingers as they breathed together.

She didn't try and tell him he was gonna be ok, or to breathe because he's fine. She knew when you were having a panic attack, your body looses control of itself. She knew the best thing you could do is to just focus on your breathing until you gained control again.

After a while, Josh finally gained control of himself again. He looked down at their interlocked hands, blushing, but not pulling away.

"How did you-"

"You were having a panic attack. I have them all the time."

Joshua nodded, glancing from their hands back to the beautiful girl in front of him.

"I felt like I was going to die." He whispered, looking down in embarresment.

"I know."

He looked up at her, shocked.

"W-What?"

"Your whole body tingles, you can't slow your breathing, your heart beating so loud you swear your ears are gonna explode." She listed, smiling at him sadly, her heart aching for the boy. "It's like you can't control your own body."

He nodded slowly. "Yeah, Yeah that's exactly what it felt like."

Y/N smiled softly, her thumb rubbing the back of his hand.

"How about some coffee, on me?"

Josh grinned at the girl in front of him. "That'd be great!"

After that, they had been inseparable.

Until now.

Now they were in separate places, trying to forget every painful memory they made together in the last 4 years.

Eventually, Y/N's friends got her out of bed, convinced her to come to the park with them. She reluctantly agreed, but only on the condition that she could drive herself- that way if needed she could leave whenever she wanted.

So she got up, took a shower, brushed her teeth, and put on the best clothes she could manage without breaking down because it brought her a memory of Josh- which was harder than you would think.

She made a mental note to go clothes shopping later.

She sighed as she sat in her car, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath before starting the engine and pulling out of her driveway.

When she pulled into the park, it was deserted, and she sighed in relief. Her best friends sent a text saying they were on their way, so Y/N exited her car and sat on the park bench, waiting for them to show up.

-

Josh was exhilarated. He had just finished his first concert, and the feeling of the fans cheering as he sang was still alive and electric in his bones. His adrenaline was running so high he couldn't sit still.

So he decided to take a walk.

He wanted to go to the park, it was his comfort these last couple of months. It was a place where he could breathe, where he could be alone with his thoughts.

He usually thought about Y/N.

But today was different, he finally felt alive again. He was walking around the park, humming his songs to himself as he took in the stillness of this afternoon. If it hadn't been for the adrenaline coursing through his veins, he would have found it eerie.

But he didn't. So he kept walking and singing, relishing in the feeling of the wind running through his hair.

Until he heard an all too familiar voice.

She was singing- singing in a way that sounded sad, like every word she uttered was forced- but it was beautiful. He knew that voice the second he heard it, but he just couldn't believe it.

He rushed to hide behind a tree, peaking his head out to glimpse at the singing girl. He couldn't believe his eyes, there Y/N was, right in front of him, looking just as beautiful as the day he left her.

But she was different, he could see it in the way she slouched as she sat on the bench, slowly swinging her legs back and forth while singing to herself softly. She was hurting, and he knew it was because of him.

"Y/N-"

He meant to say it in his head, but her name had slipped past his lips, and her head whipped around, her eyes catching his. She gasped in shock, tears welling in her eyes as she looked at the boy who stole her heart away standing in front of her after spending so much time apart.

She stood up quickly, wiping her eyes and running in the opposite direction towards her car, she needed to get out of there before she broke even more. She knew it was a mistake coming here, she should've listened to herself.

"Y/N wait-" he called out, reaching out to stop her. But it was too late, she was already long gone and pulling out of her parking spot, tears clouding her vision. Joshua ran out from behind the tree, running up to her car, before he stopped dead in his tracks, watching the scene unfold in front of him.

Y/N had been speeding out of the parking lot and onto the street, not bothering to look before she slammed on the gas and pulling onto the street, before she saw a speeding car coming at her from the side, ramming into her before everything went black.

She finally found peace.

And Josh had just lost it.

#joshua bassett fluff #joshua bassett angst #joshua bassett imagines #joshua >>>> #joshua bassett #ricky bowen angst #ricky bowen fluff #ricky bowen fanfiction #ricky bowen imagines #ricky bowen #hsmtmts

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Love On-Set (Pt. 05 of 10)

Pairing: Dacre Montgomery X Reader

Word count: 2.9K

Summary: You knew acting on Stranger Things season 3 would be a challenge, and you also knew, from the start, you'd have to work closely with Dacre Montgomery. But is wasn't a big deal for you, since this is your job and you're determined to act professionally. You had it all figured out, or so you thought, until the moment you were out face to face with Dacre. Then, this job became a lot harder than it was supposed to be, since you can't seem to focus whenever you're around Dacre. And you'll have to be around him a lot until the end of production.

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{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

×

All The Right Signs

“Gaten, get it together! It's fake raining!” Finn yells as Gaten messes up the scene for the fourth time. Everyone just laughs as you brace yourself.

“Five minutes everyone!” James shouts and you follow the kids as they run out of the rain as the water is turned off.

Today, you're glad the scene is outside, with all the main actors. It's always fun, and you need to keep your mind away from what will happen tomorrow. You thought the kissing scene was too far away, but now it's just around the corner. And you didn't do as James said. Every time Dacre showed up to work on that, you'd just sit, watch something and talk. And you always have fun together. The director never asked about the video though, so you just decided to let it go.

But now, it's tomorrow. And you're trying hard not to think about it until it's inevitable.

“Are you cold?” Dacre comes to stand before you, messing up your train of thought.

“A little, yeah.” You answer, removing some hair from your face.

“Well...” He steps closer, his hands rubbing your arms. You immediately feel warmer, but you don't think it's because of the gesture. “If Gaten manages to say his line without bursting into laughter we'll get out of the cold very soon.”

You can't help but blush, staring into his blue eyes. “He is–”

A camera flashing gets your attention, and both you and Dacre look at the source. Millie tries to hide her phone as if the bright light didn't startle you.

“I can't wait for tomorrow.” Natalia comments.

Unfortunately, they will have to be here, because the kissing scene isn't the only one scheduled. You still don't know if it's good or bad. Probably bad.

“Alright, let's get it done.” As James speaks, the water is turned back on and it starts raining again.

“Let's go.” You say in a low voice, accompanying Dacre back to your positions.

It takes another four attempts for Gaten to finally say his line without messing up, and the rest of you are free to finish the take. Afterward, before you can run to your dressing room to shower and change out of the soaking clothes, the guys decide to make some silly pictures with everyone soaking wet. In the middle of the commotion to strike a pose, Dacre finds he's way to stand next to you, an arm either on your shoulders or around your waist. You try not to give it much thought, hoping Millie's phone camera won't get your blushing cheeks.

When it's all done, you take a warm shower before heading to the van and an hour later you're at your hotel room. But the day isn't over yet. The guys are coming here to finally start working on the Battle of Starcourt scenes. But you still have some time before they show up, so you make yourself comfortable on the couch, a blanket around your shoulders as you watch Jaws since you're in the mood for a classic movie.

A knock on the door startles you a little, and you notice you were too immersed in the movie. Dragging the blanket with you, you walk over there after checking your phone. There's still an hour until they come and you didn't order anything. But you unlock it and swing it open, biting your lip when you see Dacre. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He furrows his eyebrows when he looks down at you. “I absolutely love your dress.”

“Really? It's the last fashion in my living room fashion week.” Giggling, you step aside, closing the door shut when Dacre comes in. “You're early. Nobody got here yet.“

“Yeah, I know.”

Raising an eyebrow, you shrug your shoulders. It's not like you would send him away. “I'm watching Jaws. So we can either watch it or put on something else.” Making your way back to the couch, you watch as he does the same, settling down beside you. “You want the blanket?” You decide to ask, just to be polite.

“Sure.”

That you weren't expecting. It's not cold. Well, not that cold. You just took the blanket to feel more comfortable since you're wearing shorts and a light blouse. “Ok.“ You mumble as you take the blanket from around your shoulders, fixing it on both you and Dacre.

Then you focus on the movie. Or you try to focus the best you can. Why is Dacre here? Millie's voice comes back to your head, her lastest advise making you bounce your leg nervously. She told you Dacre is giving all the signs he's into you. And you should do the same, or else he'll get the idea you're not interested and step back. Natalia assured it'll happen because Dacre is a gentleman, always have been, and he won't keep pushing you into something you don't want.

Taking a deep breath, you think about your options. You feel how Dacre's arm is touching yours, and you have an idea. Feeling the butterflies in your stomach going insane, you lean closer to Dacre. “Can I?” You ask, laying your head on his shoulder.

“Sure.” He answers, and after a few seconds of the most uncomfortable silence you've even been through, Dacre moves, putting his arm around your shoulders, what makes you snuggle closer to him, your head resting partly on his chest and neck. Your whole body is frozen for a moment, wondering what this is. Then he moves again, his arm sliding down to embrace your waist, and you decide to just end the small distance that was between your bodies, completely leaning on him. “Is this ok?”

“Yeah.” You nod, eyes tightly shut as your cheeks start burning. “The shark is attacking.” Trying to ease the tension, you gesture at the TV.

“It is,” Dacre mumbles, and you feel his chest vibrating as he speaks.

As the minutes pass by, you feel more comfortable. And it feels good to finally allow yourself to do this. It's something so simple, so silly, but still, it feels right. You've been dying to do this and you didn't even know.

Unfortunately, the hour passes by, the knocks and the chattering announcing that your time alone with Dacre is over. Sighing, you leave the blanket behind and go open the door, hoping nobody will notice that Dacre was here already.

•

“Ok, ok. Positions...” Joe says after the coffee table and couch were pushed aside, leaving a free space in the middle of the room. You stand beside Millie, script in hand as you wait to find out what scene they'll start with. “You there. You can be... There.”

“Why do I have the feeling we interrupted something,” Natalia whispers as she walks by, tilting her head at Dacre, who's discussing something in the script with Sadie.

“Dacre just came to...” To do what? Did he even come to do something specifically? “He came a little earlier.”

“I didn't know you could get this red,” Millie exclaims, staring at you. “Oh, my God, I'm so happy I'll get to see the kissing scene.”

The kissing scene. Nobody in the freaking universe will let you forget it. As if you needed them to remind you that Dacre's lips will be on yours by tomorrow night. “I want to get it done on one take, so don't screw it.”

“You should ask us to ruin it as much as we can so you'll get to kiss him more times.” Natalia sing songs and you Millie laughs, nodding.

“It won't be Dacre and I. It'll be Billy and Amy. It's a scene, it's our job.” You don't know what gets to you, the words just roll out. And they're all true. It won't be a real kiss. It's not like you don't want to do it. You want to kiss Dacre, and this is making you nervous, but it just won't be real. “Let's just focus here, ok?”

The next hours are tiring. They were right to do this because the Battle of Starcourt will be chaos, and it'll be a lot better if you kinda know the dynamics before having to actually shoot it. But you're distracted, forgetting your lines so many times you have to just keep the scrip in hand and read it. You're thankful for the kids being so crazy because they make you laugh and forget your anxiety for a while.

It's past midnight then they leave, and as you're saying your goodbyes at the door, you notice Dacre falling behind. When he's by the door, the others are already disappearing down the hall.

“Guess I'll see you tomorrow.” You mutter, looking down at your feet. If it wasn't for a meeting James called with the whole cast in the morning, you'd have the whole day to deal with before going to the set. It's better this way though, you think.

“Yeah. I'd be down for another gym date but I have this job that won't let me.”

Giggling, you bite your lip. “You think it'll be about changes in the script?”

“I'm sure it will,” Dacre mumbles, giving a look at the hall. When you follow his gaze, you see three blurs in the shape of heads, vanishing into the corner. “We're being watched.” He lowers his voice as if you were in great danger.

“Hope it's not the Demogorgon. I'd hate to save your ass. Again.” When you look back at him, you find his blue eyes already set on you. It makes you sigh, wondering why your legs won't work, and make you step back, returning to the normal distance you should put between you and someone else. “I'll get some sleep... Rough day tomorrow.”

“I agree.” Another glance at the hall, but you don't have time to check if anyone's there this time. Dacre leans closer and places a kiss on your cheek, as he usually does. Only this time is different. It lingers, for far too long, and at the same time, it ends too soon. And you're sure you felt the corner of his lips on yours. “Good night, (Y/N).”

“Good night.” Whispering, you stand by the door as he makes his way to the elevators, giving one last look back before disappearing in the corner.

• • •

Your hands are shaking a little, and you blame it on the cold wind. But the wind isn't that cold. Is it?

You're already in your position, at Hawkins Community Pool's parking lot, next to this random car and your stylist is finishing with your hair and giving the final touches on your make-up. No lipstick. You can't imagine why.

On your left, you see many pairs of eyes set on you. After this scene, James wants to shot the sequence, when the kids find a Demodog in the pool, so everyone is here. But you can't think about that now, you have to focus. Amy needs to come to life today, and you need to act like a professional. You knew acting in Stranger Things would be huge, and difficult, but you'd never guess it would be this hard.

You take the deepest breath you can when you see Dacre coming your way. Mullets were an atrocity to humankind, you think, but damn, he did make it look good. How is it even possible? He shouldn't be allowed to do that.

“Hey. You–”

“Everyone ready?” James' thunder voice cuts him off, and you have no idea if that's good or bad. No time to figure out. “Clean the set, let's do this. Dacre, (Y/N), are you ready?”

Nodding, you force your mind to remember the lines. You're Amy now... Which sucks because by now, Amy is already in love with Billy. Nothing will help you, you just need to get it done, give the audience the show they want.

“Great. Alright then... Ready and... Action!”

You're not ready for that, but you move anyways.

“I can't believe you took almost an hour to get here, Hargrove!” Amy yells, walking fast to end the small distance between her and Billy. “There's a freaking Demodog in the pool!”

“It's dead. So why the hurry?” Dacre keeps the smug smirk, the one that makes you want to slap Billy. Just a little bit. “Chill.”

“Don't tell me to chill. Can't you miss one single date? Not even when there's an interdimensional monster involved?” You punch Dacre hard on the chest, well not so hard, but he does give a tiny step back. This is Amy's jealously attack, and you make sure to make her look frustrated because despite the emotions overflowing, she knows she shouldn't be doing this.

“Why the hell you always think I'm with some girl?”

“Because that's where you always are.” Jumping to conclusions. That's the way Amy found to keep her heart away from Billy. Didn't work though. “You know what, it doesn't matter. We have a bigger fish to fry.”

When you turn around to leave, Dacre gets his cue, grabbing your arm and forcing you to stop and stumble back. “The damn thing is dead, it can wait.”

“Let go.” Amy pleads, stepping backwards as Billy comes closer. That's the moment where she gives up trying. This thing with Billy has been going on for a while now, and, as in real life, there's just this point where you stop fighting it. “Seriously, I'm tired of this shit so let's just–”

“I know you're jealous.” He mutters, just when your back hits the car. James loves to have you trapped like that. “Just need to figure out why.”

“I've said it once, and I'll say it again.” It's hard to follow the script, it's hard to keep breathing normally. It's so damn hard to keep eye contact with Dacre right now. “I won't be one of your flings so back the hell down.”

It comes out too low, and you wait for James to stop the scene. And you want him too. You can't do this. You can't stop looking at Dacre's lips, you can't control the butterflies in your stomach. This is just a goddman scene, why can't you get it together?

“Who said I want you to be a fling?”

That's it. It's happening. Dacre leans closer, so close that you have no choice but to close your eyes. He's saying something else, but you don't hear it. Your hands find their way to his chest, grabbing his jacket as if to steady yourself, to get a grip of reality. When his lips brush on yours, Amy is gone and you break character, taking a deep breath before pulling him closer, eager to end the small distance and finally–.

A loud noise, an explosion, makes both of you jump. One of the cameras near you come crashing down and if it wasn't for Dacre pulling you away, it would hit you. The whole thing moves like a domino effect, knocking a few more cameras with it. You barely hear James's voice, stepping further back, making sure you're far enough. The rest of the cast abruptly stand up from their chairs, worried.

“Everyone back off!” James shouts.

“Are you ok?” Dacre asks and you simply nod, a hand on your heart.

James dismisses everyone while he and his assistants check what happened. You silently walk beside Dacre until you reach the rest of the crew, looking down and trying not to think about the kiss. Or the almost kiss.

“What the hell happened?” Joe asks, and everyone starts talking at the same time.

There isn't much to talk about. Four of the five cameras are wrecked, and the director is pissed. But still, you're too far away, your mind stuck in the phantom of the kiss you craved for so desperately. Dacre stands by your side, but you can't look at him right now. So you engage in the conversation, ignoring Millie's and Natalia's stares, hoping nobody will notice your blushing cheeks.

An hour later, the big news arrive. Well, they're big news fort he cast, not for James. After analyzing the damage, James will have to suspend the shooting for five days. Which means you'll have five days off. Everyone starts making plans, and the ride back to the hotel is filled with happy chattering about who will go where. But you already know what you'll do. You'll fly home and use these days to rest. And think.

“Hey.” Dacre gets your attention, following out of the van when you reach the hotel. “What are your plans?”

“Uhm... I'm flying home.” Shrugging your shoulders, you keep his pace through the main hall.

“Oh, you live in LA, right?” Giving him a quick glance, you nod. “I'm living there too, I don't know if I told you.”

This lights up a spark in your heart, and suddenly, you're not so excited to stay away anymore. “No, you haven't.”

“We can book our flights together... If that's ok.”

His hesitation gets you by surprise, but then you notice how distant you've been acting since the kiss. Damn, he might be thinking you didn't like it or something. That he made you uncomfortable. That's exactly what you don't want him to think. “It is. When do you wanna leave?”

“Tomorrow morning?”

“That's fine by me.” You finally decide to look at him, and you immediately regret avoiding his eyes. Being nervous is... Normal. Maybe. But his eyes give you the reassurance you need. “I'll stop by your room in an hour so we can buy the tickets.”

“I'll be waiting.” His lips break into a smile, and you can't help but bite your lip and smile too.

“I'll be there.” You say as the doors open on his floor. Dacre mutters a goodbye, and right before the door closes again, you see when he winks at you.

×

@baker151910 @shinydixon @dreamin-of-dacre @hanoi15 @lickmymelanin @foccus @multific @uncookspaget @kellysimagines @peakascum

#dacre montgomery imagine #imagine dacre montgomery #dacre montgomery x reader #dacre montgomery fanfiction #dacre montgomery #stranger things imagine #imagine stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine

[ibijau]

Losing their memory only to have it come back after a much awaited true love’s kiss Nie Huaisang & Lan Xichen please. Lan Xichen loses his memory (maybe on a night hunt?) And even though him and Nie Huaisang have been together for over a year they haven't told anyone else yet so Nie Huaisang tries to wait for him to remember on his own but when he doesn't Nie Huaisang eventually breaks down and ends up kissing him. (Either completely alone or in front of a huge crowd) again I don't mind changes

also on AO3

this got a bit out of hand and is nearly 6K, oops?

Lan Xichen turns toward Nie Huaisang, and smiles politely.

“And you are?”

Nie Huaisang nearly drops his fan. More than the question, it is the tone of theother man’s voice that shocks him. It is the polite but slightly distant tone that Lan Xichen uses when talking to sect leaders or people who have come to beg for Gusu Lan’s help. Nie Huaisang has only once before been on the receiving end of that tone, the first time he came to visit Lan Xichen after the events in that temple. 

It was a slap back then to be treated so coldly. 

It is even more so now, with the new balance they’ve tentatively started to reach.

Nie Huaisang is too stunned to answer, but the juniors around Lan Xichen seem unsurprised by this. They trade a few worried glances, then the most confident Lan junior grabs Lan Xichen’s sleeve and smiles up at him.

“Lan zongzhu, that’s Nie zongzhu,” he explains. “He’s the one who came with the Nie juniors to help supervise the Night Hunt. You really don’t remember that either?”

“Not right now,” Lan Xichen amicably admits. “But I’m sure it will come back to me very soon. I’m sorry if that was rude, Nie zongzhu,” he adds, turning his attention back to Nie Huaisang and bowing slightly. “I seem to have suffered through a slight mishap and cannot remember a number of things. Please be patient with me if I behave inappropriately.”

Behind Lan Xichen, a few of the Nie juniors grimace. Even the Lan kids look uncomfortable. None of them know how close the two adults with them are, but they’ve seen their friendly banter earlier in the day, miles away from this reserved manner of address. Lan Xichen has never called Nie Huaisang ‘Nie zongzhu’ outside of discussion conferences. It feels wrong, so wrong that Nie Huaisang almost feels dizzy.

He keeps himself calm though. The children are already very distressed, and Lan Xichen is obviously not in a state to deal with anything, so Nie Huaisang has to take charge until someone more competent comes along.

“What happened?” he asks the Lan junior who spoke earlier. “Did he get hurt?”

A wound to the head could explain temporary difficulties, but Lan Xichen doesn’t look unwell. Indeed, the Lan junior only briefly hesitates before shaking his head.

“We’d spotted the demon,” the boy explains, glancing up at his sect leader. “Lan zongzhu thought there was something strange about it, so he asked us to stay back while he got a better look. But the demon spotted him and did something, and now he’s like that and doesn’t remember anything.”

Nie Huaisang nods along. So does Lan Xichen.

“If that’s so, I’m glad I went ahead,” he says. “A demon? How frightful. I’m glad none of you children were harmed.”

In spite of his growing anxiety, Nie Huaisang can’t help a weak smile upon hearing this. Even like this, Lan Xichen is still the same person, and Nie Huaisang is impossibly fond of him. It must be terrifying to not know who anyone is or what’s going on, and yet Lan Xichen is so fundamentally kind that he’s still more worried about the children than his own state.

“Indeed, we were lucky,” Nie Huaisang agrees, opening his fan to hide that smile he can’t contain. “From the way villagers described it, I wouldn’t have expected that demon to be strong enough to harm Zewu-Jun. That’s you,” he adds, catching Lan Xichen’s confused gaze. “Your courtesy name is Lan Xichen, you are sect leader of Gusu Lan, and your title is Zewu-Jun.”

“It’s pretty,” Lan Xichen muses. “What is your title, Nie zongzhu?”

Nobody says anything, but Nie Huaisang can still hear the juniors of both thinking ‘Headshaker’. He doesn’t get called that too much these days, but he doubts that it will ever fully leave him. Usually he doesn’t mind, but somehow it’d be embarrassing for this more innocent version of Lan Xichen to know anything about Nie Huaisang’s tricks.

“I don’t have a title,” he announces, before turning again to the children. “Do you have everyone from your group? Did you count yourself after the demon escaped? No one missing or added?”

“No, Nie zongzhu,” a different Lan boy answers. “We’re the same number as before. Nie zongzhu, can you cure Lan zongzhu?”

However touched he is that anyone would have that sort of faith in him, Nie Huaisang grimaces.

“No, probably not. Let’s go back to the inn for now, and from there I’ll send a distress signal to warn Hanguang-Jun.”

“Hanguang-Jun?” Lan Xichen curiously repeats. “A friend of mine?”

Before Nie Huaisang can answer, the Lan juniors all start correcting their sect leader, eager to explain who Lan Wangji is. Even some of the Nie children join in, such is the fame of the great Hanguang-Jun. All Nie Huaisang can do is herd everyone toward the village where they’re staying, and make sure that nothing too outrageously untrue is said. 

He notices that while the children don’t hesitate to speak about Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen’s claims to fame from the Sunshot campaign and after, they are careful not to say anything about more recent events. The oldest among them can’t be much more than thirteen, but they already have enough good sense to guess that speaking of Jin Guangyao would only hurt Lan Xichen. Nie Huaisang feels proud of them, though he knows he has no reason. He’s not the one who raised them, and even his own disciples have not felt his influence much.

Perhaps more than pride, it is gratefulness that he feels. Or else, it might be admiration. Such is the effect that Lan Xichen has on people: it is impossible to know him and not care for him.

With the children chatting and Lan Xichen listening, they make it safely to the inn. That’s where Lan Wangji and the inevitable Wei Wuxian find them after a few hours. 

Things, after that, go very fast. Lan Wangji checks on his brother while Wei Wuxian interrogates the juniors to learn more about the demon. Nie Huaisang stands to the side, knowing he won’t be of any help. He pays their bill, and announces to the village chief that they won’t be able to eliminate the demon just yet, but will make sure the situation isn’t allowed to degenerate.

It is a bit of a surprise when Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian say that they have no idea how to get Lan Xichen back to normal, but it isn’t a huge shock either. Nie Huaisang is starting to suspect the demon might have been extremely powerful, but merely of mischievous temper rather than outright evil and thus only caused small problems for local people. It is a little worrying that Lan Xichen might have been cursed, but the Lan elders are wise people and they will set him right in a matter of days.

So while Lan Wangji takes his brother home, followed by his husband and the Lan juniors, Nie Huaisang gathers his own little disciples and prepares to do the same without having exchanged another word with Lan Xichen. It doesn’t bother him too much.

He knows he’ll soon hear from Lan Xichen, and together they'll laugh about this misadventure.

-

As days turn into weeks, Nie Huaisang tries not to worry about the lack of news coming from the Cloud Recesses. If things weren’t going well, he would have heard about it. Gusu Lan might have a rule against gossip, but servants and guest disciples still like to chat. Just as Nie Huaisang was among the first to hear when Lan Xichen entered seclusion after the death of Jin Guangyao, he’s sure he would know if his curse had proved impossible to lift.

Lan Xichen must be fine.

Which means, also, that his silence must be a deliberate choice. That for whatever reason, he cannot find time to spare to tell his lover that he is feeling better, nor to schedule when they might try to meet again. Lan Xichen is a busy man, and ruling Gusu Lan is a more involved job than ruling Qinghe Nie, so Nie Huaisang has been warned from the start that if they chose to change the nature of their friendship, there would be long periods where they wouldn’t meet.

Nie Huaisang, refusing to appear possessive or clingy, decides not to ask for news when none is given. He has distracted Lan Xichen from his responsibilities too often when he was playing the fool, he cannot continue doing so now that he is no longer hiding.

Weeks continue passing, and still not a word from the Cloud Recesses, except an official letter reminding Nie Huaisang that he is invited to a discussion conference set there. The letter bears Lan Xichen’s seal, further proving that he is fine and simply too busy to fool around. Or perhaps that incident with the demon, and how useless Nie Huaisang was in the aftermath, has reminded Lan Xichen that aside from plotting murder and painting, his lover isn’t good for much.

The advantage of a secret relationship, Nie Huaisang realises one day, is that there’s no need for a public break-up. Lan Xichen only has to stop contacting him, and things are over.

He realises, also, that it was Lan Xichen who insisted on keeping things secret as they figured out if this could work. He had said that Lan Qiren and Lan Wangji might have objections otherwise, which seemed like a wise consideration at the time, but now Nie Huaisang can only wonder…

If this was Lan Xichen taking revenge for being left in the dark about Jin Guangyao’s true nature, then he played his cards well. Nie Huaisang never saw it coming, though perhaps he should have.

Even for a man as kind as Lan Xichen, some things must be too much to forgive.

-

When the time for that discussion conference comes, Nie Huaisang considers not going. There’s never much there that interests him in those conferences, and he doesn’t quite feel ready to face Lan Xichen yet after what he is now convinced was a silent break-up. He also refuses to give anyone the satisfaction of having wounded him, though, and that means he has to go to Gusu and act unaffected.

Not so long ago, it would have been odd to arrive at the gates of the Cloud Recesses and not be greeted in person by Lan Xichen. Usually whoever is guarding the entrance has instructions to go warn their sect leader that his old friend has arrived, allowing Lan Xichen to lead Nie Huaisang inside even though he was given a jade token long ago, back after his brother’s death. 

This time, Nie Huaisang gets to use that token at last, because he is told to go in alone since Lan Xichen isn’t free to come at the moment. He supposes he should feel grateful that the token hasn’t been deactivated. Maybe Lan Xichen feared there would be a scandal. Maybe he doesn’t care enough to remember that Nie Huaisang even has that token.

Either way, Lan Xichen isn’t there, and ultimately it is Lan Wangji who comes to meet him and leads him to the guest quarters. Nie Huaisang figures it’s better than if it had been Lan Qiren, who still scares him a little from his time as a student.

At dinner that evening, Lan Xichen is absent. Nie Huaisang doesn’t ask any questions, but someone else does, only to be told that Lan Xichen has to deal with some urgent situation and likely won’t be present during the entire discussion conference. There’s some whispers about that, unsurprisingly, but no one is alarmed and Nie Huaisang least of all. With Gusu Lan’s reputation, they tend to be asked to help with very delicate cases that require great expertise. It is not so extraordinary for Lan cultivators to have to drop previous engagements to go help those in need.

Nie Huaisang may or may not be relieved that he won’t have to face his former lover just yet. Either way, he is careful not to show any emotion, especially once he notices that Wei Wuxian keeps glancing his way.

He will not give anyone the satisfaction of seeing his heartbreak.

Come morning, the discussion conference starts as it normally would. Lan Xichen’s absence is hardly felt at all. Lan Qiren is more than competent to represent Gusu Lan, having done so for many years. If Nie Huaisang’s eyes accidentally start looking for Lan Xichen every time someone says something particularly stupid… well, it’s unlikely anyone will notice. His reputation has improved, but Qinghe Nie is still not quite back to being a Great Sect again, nor is it likely to happen in his lifetime, so nobody really pays attention to him. Nobody except Lan Xichen, and…

Well, not even that anymore.

Which is fine.

Nie Huaisang has managed to be on his own for ten years, he doesn’t mind going back to that. The only regret he allows himself is that time passes so slowly in those damn conferences when he has nothing to look forward to. Inane chatter is so much worse without the promise of stolen tenderness later on.

But instead of being able to run to his lover’s arms

, when the discussion ends for the day, Nie Huaisang finds Wei Wuxian waiting for him at the door of the hall.

“Nie-xiong, let’s have a chat,” Wei Wuxian demands, grabbing him by the arm and kidnapping him so he cannot join others to dinner.

“I’m kind of hungry,” Nie Huaisang complains. “Can it wait?”

Wei Wuxian grins, and takes a small box from his sleeve, holding out for Nie Huaisang to remove the lid.

Nie Huaisang starts salivating the instant the smell hits his nose.

“Dumplings from that place you used to like,” Wei Wuxian announces. “It’s still the same man making them. So, can we have a chat, or would you rather have a proper Lan dinner with everyone?”

“Wei-xiong, you are the worst and I hate you,” Nie Huaisang grumbles, staring at the dumplings. “Fine, I’ll listen to you.”

Wei Wuxian grins and continues pulling him away from everyone. Lan Qiren, who leaves the hall last, notices them going away and glares at them but doesn't actually say anything. 

"I see the in-laws are liking you a little better these days," Nie Huaisang remarks, carefully grasping one dumpling. He would have preferred not eating with his hands, but he can make sacrifices for the sake of a good meal. "Not long ago, Lan Qiren would have gone mad, seeing you disturb his conference like this."

"I didn't disturb anything, you lot were done for the day," Wei Wuxian objects, letting go of Nie Huaisang’s arm. He too grabs a dumpling, and inelegantly shoves it in his mouth. "And he's glad I'm helping with Lan Xichen," he adds, spitting food. "It's a difficult situation." 

Nie Huaisang knows he's being baited. He truly knows it. 

"What about Lan Xichen?" he still asks, unable to stop himself. 

"Nie-xiong, don't you remember that curse he was hit with? We're still trying to lift it." 

Nie Huaisang stops in his tracks and stares at Wei Wuxian. 

"What do you mean you're still trying to… It's been months! What could take you so long? Aren't you supposed to be a cultivation genius? Isn't Gusu Lan a well of wisdom?" 

Wei Wuxian shrugs, and gobbles another dumpling. 

"So you really didn't know, eh?" 

"How was I supposed to know? No one saw fit to inform me of this situation. Excuse me for having too much faith in your competence, Wei-xiong." 

"Didn't it strike you as odd that Lan Xichen stopped contacting you after that incident?" Wei Wuxian retorts. "I know the two of you had become close again lately. Some friend you are, letting this much time pass without news." 

Nie Huaisang's face burns at those words, and he quickly opens his fan to hide behind. It shouldn't surprise him that Wei Wuxian guessed what was going one between him and Lan Xichen.

"Yes, yes, we both know I'm a terrible friend, especially to Zewu-Jun," he grumbles. "I just assumed he was busy. Not everybody can ditch their responsibility whenever they please to go Night Hunting like you do, Wei-xiong." Nie Huaisang pauses, and sighs. "Is it really serious? Is he in any danger?" 

Can I help? he wants to ask, though the very idea is so ridiculous it isn't even worth saying out loud. If all of Gusu Lan and Wei Wuxian have failed to bring Lan Xichen back to normal, Nie Huaisang won't be of any use. 

"It's more inconvenient than anything," Wei Wuxian says, lifting a weight from Nie Huaisang's shoulders. "Aside from the memory loss, he doesn't suffer at all. His cultivation is still the same. He hasn't even forgotten everything either. He recalls everything to do with cultivation or the arts quite well, he can still fight without problem… But anything personal is just gone."

"Oh. Well, then it might be more of a blessing than a curse," Nie Huaisang remarks. "Or have you told him…" 

Wei Wuxian quickly shakes his head, nibbling on another dumpling. Nie Huaisang steals another one and does the same, refusing to watch his dinner be eaten under his nose like this. 

"We only told him basic things, to see if it would help his memory. He knows he has an uncle, a brother, that I'm married to Wangji… But since that didn't really help, we figured it was better not to say too much. Lan Qiren decided it would just have distressed him."

Nie Huaisang nods. He still remembers the way Lan Xichen looked that night, at that temple, after everything had come to light. To inflict that upon him a second time would have been too cruel. 

"Truly a blessing then," Nie Huaisang muses. "Maybe it's for the best and we should let him be."

"Nie-xiong, you really are too dramatic," Wei Wuxian complains. "We've told him that his past has painful things in it, but he still wants to remember. And you should know, he's been asking about you." 

Hearing this startles Nie Huaisang who gapes at Wei Wuxian. 

"Didn't… Didn't you say he doesn't remember anything? Wei-xiong, make up your mind about this. I swear if you're lying…" 

"Not lying," Wei Wuxian retorts, biting into the last dumpling. "He can't remember anything from before that Night Hunt, but apparently you make a strong impression on him that day. He frequently asks about the 'handsome young man' and has said a few times he wants to thank you for helping and keeping the children calm that day."

"He's just being polite," Nie Huaisang grumbles, his cheeks heating up upon hearing that even without memory of their acquaintance, Lan Xichen still finds him handsome. His looks aren’t too bad, but he doesn’t quite compare to some other cultivators. "I suppose some things don't change."

Wei Wuxian shrugs, and puts away the now empty box.

“So, Nie-xiong, are you coming with me so see Zewu-Jun? We told him you’d be here, he’s very impatient to ‘meet’ you at last.”

“No,” Nie Huaisang says.

“No?”

“No.”

“And why not?” Wei Wuxian asks, his expression quickly losing its warmth. “Aren’t you two quite close lately?”

Nie Huaisang hides behind his fan, and looks away.

“Wei-xiong, me coming to see Zewu-Jun can only have two effects,” he says, and raises a finger. “One, it does nothing to help his memory, he realises that aside from my face I don’t have much to interest him, and he’ll be embarrassed for even asking about me. I’m not stupid, without shared experiences, there’s little to draw him to me. It will just be awkward for both of us. Or else...” He raises a second finger. “Two, seeing me unlocks his memory. And wouldn’t that be cruel? He has a chance to live free from the burden of what happened, I would not take that from him.”

“Nie-xiong, you’re still a coward after all,” Wei Wuxian remarks.

“Think what you will,” Nie Huaisang retorts. “I’ve had to hurt him once like this. I can’t do it again. Could you, if it was Lan Wangji?”

“I know Lan Zhan would want to remember. Without the bad, we wouldn’t have the good either. Zewu-Jun said he wants to remember too, and he said he wants to see you. Isn’t that more important than your guilt, Nie-xiong?”

Nie Huaisang grits his teeth. There’s no reasoning with Wei Wuxian when he’s convinced to be right, and for someone who was so blind for so long, Wei Wuxian certainly thinks himself an expert about romance.

Lucky him, if what he has with Lan Wangji is worth all the pain, all the suffering. Nie Huaisang, given the choice, would rather not have gone through all of that. Even if it meant never getting the chance to be with Lan Xichen, who surely would have picked someone else if life hadn’t pushed them together. And whatever Lan Xichen says now, when he doesn’t know what darkness lurks in his past, Nie Huaisang is convinced he will regret it if his memories return to him.

Nie Huaisang doesn’t mind making that choice for him.

It won’t be the first time.

Besides, he’s already mourned the romance that had only just started between him and Lan Xichen. He is quite fine with having lost this, even if it isn’t in the way he imagined.

It’s fine.

Everything is fine, and this is for the best.

“I’ve made my choice, Wei-xiong,” Nie Huaisang announces with all the confidence he can fake. “Please tell Zewu-Jun I cannot meet him. Even if he’s upset at first, I’m sure he’ll get over it quite easily.”

“Nie-xiong!”

Ignoring his old friend, Nie Huaisang turns around and starts walking back toward the heart of the Cloud Recesses.

If he feels a cold, gnawing sensation in his chest and stomach, he’ll blame it on hunger. After all, Wei Wuxian very rudely ate over half his dinner.

-

Due to a mistake, the disciples Nie Huaisang brought with him to the conference have been given their own separate room rather than to stay in the same guest quarters as him, as would be more usual. Or, well, it might be unkind to call this a mistake. It is an arrangement that became needed after things changed between him and Lan Xichen, so they could more easily have time alone. Nie Huaisang can’t remember what excuse they gave to justify the need for this, but apparently whoever is in charge of organising things for the guests wasn’t told that this isn’t needed anymore.

A shame, because Nie Huaisang isn’t particularly in the mood to be alone. Or at least, not in the mood to be alone in the damn Cloud Recesses, where he has no way of getting his hands on alcohol except through Wei Wuxian and… well, it’s not really an option. Nie Huaisang will have to face his renewed heartbreak sober, which isn’t something anyone should have to go through, he thinks.

Just as Nie Huaisang starts wondering if he should just go to sleep and try to forget this unfortunate situation, there’s a knock on his door.

It is odd for anyone to come see him. His disciples know they can’t wander around so close to curfew unless there’s an emergency, in which case they wouldn’t knock. Wei Wuxian is angry at him, and will probably remain so for a few days to a few weeks, until he forgets they had an argument. King of Grudges Lan Wangji has done his best to pretend Nie Huaisang doesn’t exist, just as he does with Jiang Cheng. Nie Huaisang can’t think of anyone who might come see him.

There’s another knock on the door, the rhythm of it familiar, yet also not. After some hesitation, Nie Huaisang decides to go check, though he carefully keeps one hand on the handle of the dagger he took to carrying everywhere since launching in motion his revenge plan.

Nie Huaisang opens the door.

And then very nearly closes it again when he sees who his visitor is.

“I’m sorry for coming so late,” Lan Xichen says with a polite smile. “And I understand that you told Wei Wuxian that you had no desire to speak to me, but I really must have answers for some of my questions.”

Nie Huaisang does some quick math. He could still try to close the door. Either Lan Xichen would accept his rejection and things would end for good, or he will force the door open and Nie Huaisang simply isn’t strong enough to stop that. He knows what Lan Xichen would normally do, but he has no idea how different this version of Lan Xichen is. Nie Huaisang would rather not risk antagonising him, not now that they aren’t even friends anymore, and not when he knows better than most how terrifying Lan Xichen could be, if he just bothered.

With a sigh, Nie Huaisang gestures for Lan Xichen to come in.

“I have little to tell you that your brother and his husband couldn’t say better than me,” Nie Huaisang meekly states, his heart clenching at the sight of Lan Xichen in this room, too much like other times and yet so different. “But I’ll try to be of use, of course.”

“I’ve tried asking them first,” Lan Xichen reveals as he steps inside, letting Nie Huaisang close the door behind him. “But they’ve admitted that they didn’t know the answer to some of my questions, and they were reluctant to share speculation with me.”

Nie Huaisang hides a grimace behind his fan. He supposes he should be grateful that Wei Wuxian and his husband have acquired such a distaste for gossip, but sometimes it’s really annoying.

“If they don’t know, I doubt I’ll know much more, Zewu-Jun.”

“And I think you do,” Lan Xichen softly insists. “I have done my own share of speculation. I have found some letters, some paintings, a few gifts, and so I must ask… Nie zongzhu, am I right in thinking we were not only friends?”

The hopefulness in Lan Xichen’s face, in his voice, are so unbearable that Nie Huaisang has to look away.

Of course Lan Xichen would have figured that out. However much they tried to hid in public, in private they were quite open about the way they felt, all the more so because they never had the chance to meet quite as often as they would have liked. Nie Huaisang’s letters were hardly restrained, though still more so than some of the ones Lan Xichen sent him. The content of those would have left no doubt possible as to the nature of their relationship.

“Zewu-Jun, I’m not sure this really matters,” Nie Huaisang says, avoiding the question. “Since you have no memory of anything, no matter what our links were in the past, it would be unfair of me to demand for them to be maintained. I will not make demands of you, don’t worry.”

“I would not mind if you did,” Lan Xichen protests, stepping closer. “All these weeks, I’ve been thinking of you a lot. Everyone else acted so worried, but you were the one person who kept his calm, you took care of the children, you made sure the innkeeper was paid, you even made sure to update the people who had called for our help on the state of their problem… I was so impressed by how level-headed you were, and that’s why I started asking questions about who we were to each other.”

Blood rushes to Nie Huaisang’s face upon hearing his behaviour that day being praised. To him, what happened back then is a bit of a blur because he was so worried for Lan Xichen, so he doesn’t really remember what he did at all. Surely he can’t have handled it that well, it must just be that Lan Xichen is too kind, as always.

“Zewu-Jun, things between us… I won’t deny that they were a certain way,” Nie Huaisang admits, gripping his fan a little harder. “And I am very touched if I made a good impression on you that time. But things between us… you have to understand, even if things were good, it had come at a heavy price. I have done many things that you did not approve of. Things I am not sorry about, because in the end, I got what I wanted, and I’m the sort of person for whom that’s what matters. To put it bluntly, I’m not a very good person, and I have no intention on improving myself.”

“I don’t think you’re quite so bad,” Lan Xichen retorts with amusement. “I have read the letters you sent me. You seem like a very soft and sentimental person, Nie zongzhu, and I think I like that.”

Nie Huaisang sighs, and shakes his head.

Suddenly, he misses Lan Xichen.

The real Lan Xichen, the one who knew his tenderness and softness didn’t mean he wasn’t also capable of horrors. The one who loved him in spite of it… perhaps even for it, at times. And the reverse was true as well. Although he'd always had a bit of a crush on Lan Xichen, it wasn't until everything was exposed, until they'd both known the best of the worst of each other, that Nie Huaisang had really fallen in love. 

He can't wish for this ignorant Lan Xichen to suffer what the original one had suffered, he isn't that unkind.

But he also can't love someone who doesn't have the life experience to understand why he is the way he is. 

"Zewu-Jun, I'm really not the way you think," Nie Huaisang states, as coldly as he can manage. "If you remember someday, then I'll be happy to resume what we had, should you wish it. Until then… for your own good, it's better to go our separate ways. I don't have anything to give you, not as you are now. And I love you too much to wish you the pain of remembering your past."

"So instead, you cause me the pain of being rejected," Lan Xichen bitterly remarks, walking closer, close enough to touch, if Nie Huaisang wanted. He wants to. He still doesn't move. "Can I do anything to change your mind?" 

"Zewu-Jun…" 

"Please understand it is very unpleasant to hear you say that you love me at the same time you’re pushing me away. If you gave me a chance…”

Nie Huaisang laughs behind his fan.

“Trust me, it’s better for you. Just walk away and forget about me.”

“Nie zongzhu, give me a chance,” Lan Xichen pleads, looking so heartbroken that Nie Huaisang has to avert his eyes.

“It’s better that way.”

It is.

It has to be.

It isn’t like things could have lasted anyway. They both have a duty to their sects, to their families. It really is better this way.

“Then at least… would you kiss me, Nie zongzhu?” Lan Xichen asks.

“Zewu-Jun, that’s not…”

“Give me this at least, if you won’t give me anything else. If we were happy once, don’t I deserve a last goodbye?”

That would be a terrible idea. Nie Huaisang knows himself. If he gets that small taste of what he used to have with Lan Xichen, he’ll be tempted to actually take that risk, and then when it fails, when this too innocent Lan Xichen realises what he’s capable of and starts hating him for it, Nie Huaisang will know it was his fault for being weak, for not making this end cleanly.

It would be stupid to kiss Lan Xichen.

But it’s been months, and the day has been so long, and Nie Huaisang is too tired to continue making the right decisions.

“Just one kiss,” he sighs, closing his fan.

In an instant, he finds himself pulled into Lan Xichen’s embrace, soft lips pressing against his own with a clumsiness that he once found endearing, when it all started. Lan Xichen was so inexperienced when they got together, though he learned fast. To be kissed against with that unskilled enthusiasm is a bitter reminder that this man isn’t quite his Xichen.

Even knowing this, Nie Huaisang returns the kiss with a touch of desperation, his arms around Lan Xichen’s neck, keeping him close while he can have him.

After a while, Lan Xichen’s mouth pulls away. Nie Huaisang, who had closed his eyes at some point, opens them again and finds his lover staring down at him with an air of shock, panting harder than the kiss truly justifies.

Before Nie Huaisang can say anything, Lan Xichen breaks into a smile and kisses him again.

This kiss is different.

This time, Lan Xichen isn’t so clumsy anymore, he knows how to lick into Nie Huaisang’s mouth, how to bite and suck on his lips just right, leaving the other man breathless. His hands are no longer just on Nie Huaisang’s hips either, they move to pet his hair, to grope his ass, his thighs, to pull him closer until there’s no space between their bodies, pushing him against the door until Nie Huaisang is trapped in the most perfect of ways.

When that kiss ends, Nie Huaisang too is breathless, and his legs feel so weak that if he weren’t clinging to Lan Xichen so tightly, he’d fall to his knees for sure.

“You ridiculous man,” Lan Xichen breathes against his lips. “You always have to make things difficult, don’t you?”

Nie Huaisang’s grip tightens. The other man’s voice seems different suddenly. Warmer. If it weren’t foolish to hope…

“Even after all this, you really can’t believe I’d trust you?” Lan Xichen accuses, sounding too amused, too fond. “We’re going to have to work on this, A-Sang. I really thought you’d learned not to try to handle everything alone.”

“Xichen,” Nie Huaisang gasps, half fearful that he’s misunderstanding. “A-Chen, are you…”

“I’m back,” Lan Xichen confirms, rubbing their nose together before stealing a brief kiss. “And I’m not letting you go, you silly man, even if I’m a little cross you’re still so convinced you don’t have my full trust. You’re really…”

“No, don’t scold me,” Nie Huaisang mumbles, suddenly a little embarrassed by how dramatic he’s been, even if he still thinks he wasn’t wrong. “You can scold me later. For now, just kiss me again. I’ve missed it, and I’ve missed you, so kiss me, A-Chen.”

Lan Xichen grins, and promptly obeys.

Nie Huaisang pulls him closer. He loves this man, loves him so much, and he’s so glad to have him back at last.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #wei wuxian #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #and that's why I haven't done a prompt fill in a bit this one was just so damn long lol #theuntamedmulti

[makeste]

if gran torino is kotaro's father and he took the "no contact" so literally he didn't even know he had a grandson, wow. it's one thing to knock at someone's door, it's another to keep an eye on someone from afar, especially your child when the threat is still around. so to me the "we made the decision" was nana consulting gran torino and both of them coming to a conclusion. she does say "i don't have a son" not "we". but i guess i don't my unfavourable opinion of GT to switch to negative.

yeah, I don’t actually think Gran is Kotaro’s father; I just find it amusing/intriguing that, rather than confirming that it’s not the case, Horikoshi is out here actively dropping weird lines of dialogue that would seem to make it more possible and not less, lol. but the “our decision” thing is most likely referring to the fact that he was in on the secret, but also chose to stay out of Kotaro’s life, even after Nana’s death.

regarding that decision though, no contact means no contact, period. I know it seems harsh, especially from Kotaro’s end (and honestly my heart aches for him so much every time I see those images of him sobbing and clinging to his mom and not wanting her to leave and not understanding why that I almost want to start crying myself), but she made the decision in order to protect him. not only that, but I fully believe that decision actually did save his life, or at least prolong it until AFO finally did manage to track him down all those years later. and the very fact that AFO still eventually managed to track him down and then proceeded to gruesomely kill him (because I still believe AFO was responsible for that tbh) and kidnap Nana’s grandchild and groom him into becoming his own heir says all you need to know about how serious the threat was. Kotaro was in immediate and very real danger, and the person targeting him was a man with unlimited resources who lacked so much as the slightest shred of mercy or empathy.

and lo and behold, AFO actually did eventually kill Nana. she was 100% correct in her estimation of how dangerous he was. there was no hiding from him, and at the time neither she nor Toshinori was strong enough to defeat him. this was something she knew was inevitable, and so she made the decision to spare her child from that. he was young and innocent and he didn’t understand, and that breaks my heart, and it absolutely broke hers. but she did it regardless, because the alternative was him eventually losing her anyway, except in a far more traumatic way, and with him probably not being far behind on the dying front afterwards. there just wasn’t another option. and to be honest, even if there was, even just the small risk of this potentially happening would be enough in my mind to justify the decision she made. she couldn’t risk anything happening to her child. she did the only thing she could do, knowing it would still hurt him but that he would at least be safe, and hopefully spared a much greater trauma down the line.

as for Gran, I said it in my previous post, but he is a clear and obvious link to Nana. if you’re AFO, and you know Nana had a husband (who you killed!! because you’re an asshole) and a child, and you know she dumped the kid off somewhere and wiped all public records of him and apparently did a very good job, but you still really want to track him down because, again, you’re an asshole, how do you manage it? you have absolutely no idea where he is. he could be literally any child. how do you hope to even begin narrowing it down? well, one very obvious way is to keep tabs on Nana’s hero buddy whom you definitely know about because he’s the guy who flew off with Nana’s heir right before you killed her.

(this is from All Might Rising, btw; just mentioning that because it’s technically not part of the series proper, and so I know not everyone has read it.) anyway, so this guy is a pro hero, which means a lot of information about him is a matter of public record, meaning that it’s probably fairly easy for you to track him down and keep him under observation. especially since you are literally the king of the fucking underworld, who has minions and spies everywhere to the extent where you can do ridiculous shit like spiriting away children to experiment on whenever you feel like it, and stealing the corpses of other children with absolutely no one being the wiser. I think it’s safe to assume that you have eyes and ears everywhere.

and so for Gran to keep tabs on Kotaro, which would presumably involve calling him (but what if AFO tapped his phone), or writing to him (but what if AFO intercepted one of the letters), or visiting him (this would have been the most dangerous thing of all because AFO could easily have had someone tailing him, and so Gran would have led them right to Kotaro’s doorstep), would honestly have been an incredibly risky thing to do. especially given how much Nana sacrificed to keep him safe to begin with! is he really going to risk throwing all of that away and making it meaningless, just for his own peace of mind? because it wouldn’t have benefited Kotaro in any kind of way either. what good is it going to do to drop by just to tell this five-year-old, “hey it’s me, your mom’s old friend who you probably don’t know very well if at all. I just wanted to let you know that your mother died horribly. real sorry about that. anyways good luck being an orphan, peace.”

and as for the notion that Gran should have adopted him instead, which I’ve seen a few people mention, I honestly don’t know how that would have been any better for him. either way his mom is still gone. at least this way he’s with people who are actually caring for him and who can keep him relatively safe. with Gran he most definitely would not have been safe, and Gran’s not exactly the most nurturing guy, either. and then there’s the matter of Toshinori on top of that. he already had a child he had basically adopted, and it wouldn’t have been fair to either Toshinori or Kotaro for him to try and split his attention between two grieving children, and trying to train the one while somehow attempting to raise the other. that wouldn’t have been healthy for any of them. and again, I keep saying it, but that’s because it’s true: AFO would have tracked them down. he did track Kotaro down eventually, even though it took him decades. this was not a danger to be underestimated at any cost.

basically what I’m trying to say is that this was a lose-lose situation, and everyone involved knew it, and so they tried to do the best that they could under the circumstances. there is absolutely no one to blame here except AFO. and hey, at least that’s one thing we can all agree on, lol. fuck All for One. that big dumb poopy head.

#bnha 281 #gran torino #shimura nana #shimura kotaro #all for one #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha meta #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #asks #long post

[arclucifer666]

Acceptance

Pairing: Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2118

Summary:  It is the first time they have sex after Dean returns from Purgatory, and Sam's brother is even rougher around the edges.   

AO3

@@@@@

Sam's back hits the mattress hard, teeth clicking together, but luckily he doesn't bite his tongue.

Boots and socks are the first to come out.

He doesn't react. Cannot. Neither wants to.

A knife and it starts ripping his clothes, jeans first. The blade touches his skin in some places, which remains intact, however.

Familiar green eyes show hunger, anger, and something dark. Something that is directed at monsters when they are hunting. But Sam is the only monster here, the freak that Dean should've killed many years ago.

And maybe his passivity has something to do with the need for purification that never left his thoughts.

The Cage was not enough.

A feeling of impurity has always been there, inside him, in his soul. He's a failure in a family of hunters and heroes. He's a hunter, but not a hero, and perhaps the righteous man can purify him once and for all.

Dean's blade cuts through his shirt and then his undershirt, precise, destroying the false security his clothes bring to him. Hands throw the useless pieces on the floor, and his underwear is the only thing preventing his nakedness.

He can hear his own heartbeat under the scrutiny of hungry eyes.

"Less muscle. I think I like that."

The first touch on his groin is gentle, just massaging, stimulating, and his body starts to react. It's inevitable. But then Sam remembers he wants it. And this is better than the contempt and anger that became the rule after Dean's return from Purgatory.

"How long?"

The question surprises him. Why does Dean want to know this?

Two broken souls that were trying to survive. Sam was dead inside anyway.

Clenching his fists, he tries to answer, "I-"

Fingers squeeze his balls, but the pain is welcome too. Anything that makes him feel alive again.

"It doesn't matter, Sam. No longer."

The pressure is gone.

That voice has always done things for him, but the barely contained rage he hears now has never been this bad.

Dean's knife cuts again, and this time the blade touches with purpose, navel, waist, groin, and finally, the erect cock against his belly.

"It would be so easy."

Sam prepares himself for pain.

He watches the knife move towards his balls. Sensitive skin wrinkles with the unwanted touch and tension makes his skin sweat.

"But then I would have to bring you back again."

Dean seems to give up on the idea and pull the knife away. So, he pushes Sam's right leg up, planting the sole of his foot on the bed. A touch of the knife handle on his inner thigh is enough for him to know he's to do the same with his left leg. And he's never felt so exposed before, not even at those times Dean wanted to tie him to a bed.

He holds his breath for a moment when feels the tip of the knife on his perineum, so gentle, barely there at all.

Noticing a stain on the ceiling, Sam fixes his gaze on the small imperfection. Like him.

"So perfect, Sammy."

The paradox of the century.

Cold fingers touch his skin and pull an asscheek apart, leaving him even more open. Dean's blade goes down, and clenching is an automatic reaction.

"Shh, I suggest that you relax as much as you can," Dean instructs, sounding calm and controlled.

But talking is much easier than doing when there's the tip of a fucking knife against his hole.

The stain on the ceiling has uneven edges, Sam notices. The knife does not observe any regularity, following the wishes of its owner.

Not knowing what his brother wants is perhaps the most unnerving part. The Dean who returned from Purgatory is not the same man who disappeared in that damn lab as if by magic. There are sharp edges, violence, and pleasure in killing that weren't in him before. Not on a scary frequency, anyway.

The contact stops, and his skin doesn't seem to fit him anymore. Something hard is against his lips then. Sam opens his eyes—which closed at some point without him even noticing—to find the knife handle asking for entrance and Dean looking at him.

"You better get this wet."

Sam does, knowing what comes next. But his traitor cock twitches against his belly in perspective anyway.

"Good boy."

A few more inches inside him and Sam sucks, the odd shape fucking his mouth.

"It reminds me of how much I like to see you choking on my dick, Sam."

With what he sees on his brother's face, choking on Dean's dick is the only thing that would happen during a blow job right now.

"Another day, though, because my plans for today are more interesting."

Interesting wouldn't be the right word for the events of the night.

It doesn't take long for Dean to look satisfied and return to his previous position between Sam's legs.

The finger, although familiar, is unexpected.

"Did anyone touch you here?"

The gentleness on the sensitive skin is so different from the anger he hears in Dean's voice.

Sam covers his eyes with a forearm while enjoying the pleasure that Dean's touch still causes in his body. Small circles that caress but don't penetrate him.

He means to say yes to the question, wants to tell Dean about the times when he held a delicate wrist and pressed too thin fingers where only Dean had been before just to be able to remember what he'd missed. Nights that ended up with him drunk and crying for something he would never have again.

"No, Dean." The lie comes out easy and convincing to his own ears.

"I don't know what I'd do if I found out that someone touched what they shouldn't have."

Promises of pain are what Sam hears. And he sighs relieved that he hasn't put her in danger.

Sam groans his frustration when the finger disappears, and Dean's laugh gets him out of his hiding place. And how Sam missed that mischievous look, even when it meant pranks, most of the time, in the past that seems so distant.

"Still the same little slut as always, don't you, Sammy?"

Sam tries to show neutrality he doesn't feel, not when his cock is still rock hard and his hands grab the sheets.

He's transparent, and Dean can see every detail.

"I'll give you what you need, little brother, like I always do."

Like all those times when you dumped me in a Plucky Pennywhistle to go fuck girls? Or how did you side with Dad when I got the letter saying I'd been accepted into Stanford? Or then when you didn't trust me and in my ability as a hunter?

His thoughts are interrupted by the hardness of something against his hole, and it's nothing like the finger from before or even the silicone toys that Dean liked to play with.

An image of the knife forms in Sam's mind; he knows precisely what part of the handle is going through his entrance. In principle, it's just pressure until the entire end of the handle enters. Sam grits his teeth and takes a deep breath, trying to relax. The image of the stain now is blurred by the tears that form in his eyes.

"There were only monsters there, Sammy. I missed something as perfect as this."

Perfection. The same word. But there is nothing perfect about having the handle of a knife stuck in his hole by his own brother.

A tear runs down the corner of Sam's right eye even when his vision clears, and he knows that that will be the only one tonight.

He'll make sure of this.

"Somehow…"

Dean pushes the handle further, but Sam's body begins to accept the intrusion, pain turning into a slow burn. His erection is gone, though.

"It was bloody. Messy. Thirty-one flavors of bottom-dwelling nasties. Hell, most days felt like 360-degree combat. But there was something about being there."

Sam's chest aches with what Dean says even as the movements inside him make his mind aware of the pleasure beginning to surround him again.

"It felt pure, Sammy."

Sam feels like he can't breathe. Purity. What he always wanted. But he was tainted at six months of age, and sometimes the phantom taste of demon blood is still there, impregnated in his tongue.

"I wouldn't have minded staying there longer. Killed as many sons of bitches as possible."

Dean moves the knife like a damn dildo, forcing his body to accept the strange shape. At some point, though, it's more pleasure than strangeness, insufficient to make him come, but good enough to keep him on edge.

"But I couldn't be without you anymore."

Some abrupt movement and it hurts.

Sam also can't live without Dean and the more he thinks about it, the more he's sure that neither of them can live without the other. What he'd after Dean's vanishing was not life. It was more like going through the days, an automaton in a world that no longer made sense.

"And I need you now." The wanting Sam hears in that deep voice is almost too much for him.

The handle is pulled out, still odd, but it's easier than the entrance was.

Wild eyes stare at him. "It's always you, Sammy. It all starts and ends with you."

It's more than a promise, mutual now, Sam is sure.

"On all fours."

He doesn't have much choice here, a fight—which he'll probably lose—or being mounted like a bitch in heat. The second option is the only one that makes sense, though, even when humiliation and shame burn his cheeks and his hole clenches like it gets a mind of its own.

So much time in the same uncomfortable position has an effect on Sam's legs, and they tremble as he moves into the new position, equally exposed and vulnerable.

The sound of a zipper, warmth of callused hands on his asscheeks, massaging and exposing him again, and finally, the heat and hardness that he missed so much, as difficult as it's for him to admit it. The large head touches sensitive skin, there is no waiting for permission, just taking, invading, and settling in as if that had always belonged there, but it's more like coming home, actually.

He lets out a sharp cry, and his chest falls against the sheets, too weak to fight his body coming alive after more than a fucking year of separation.

Hands find their place on his hips, though now they burn like a brand on his skin, appropriating him again. And this is when Sam allows himself to recognize he needs this as much as his brother does.

Sam can't stifle the little pathetic moan that pours out of his mouth when the stimulation on his prostate starts feeling good. Dean's cock is so present that he doesn't want to feel anything inside him other than this.

At some point, weakness turns to lust and he manages to lean on his hands again, fucking against Dean's impulses with the same ferocity. And sex has never been so savage and primal between them before. Still, he craves it with all his strength, desperate to feel something again, to feel alive again.

"It's been so long since we'd this. Fuck. Missed it, little brother."

"Me too, Dean," he admits in a wrecked voice, his orgasm building within him. "I need you…Always."

Strong arms wrap around his chest and haul him up, his back against Dean's chest, the softness of the shirt brushing against his sweaty skin. And his big brother is so solid against him, so real.

A hand wraps around his cock, sharp pain from teeth biting on his shoulder, and a groan rips through him with his climax, which is so intense that it consumes his force. Only Dean's arms keep him on his knees on the bed. Hips that barely move at all, the soft tongue that licks the bite, and Sam throws his head back on his brother's shoulder.

His eyes turn to the stain on the ceiling again, which watches them regardless of its own imperfection.

Liquid heat spreads inside him. And only now does he realize how he missed this and as well as that old feeling of belonging, one that he was able to experience just with his brother.

Sam still feels like that damn stain, however. But now he is no longer alone in his imperfection and impurity because Dean is like him. There is no life for any of them without the other. And Sam can accept who he is once and for all.

#wincest #dark dean winchester #dubious consent #bottom!sam #top!dean #lemon

[casey-v]

Do you know Open Heart by heart?

Getting warmed up for Saturday I have a challenge for all Ethan stans:

26 chapters - 26 quotes - each from an Ethan/MC dialogue (except b1ch14: no Ethan; I chose a quote from somebody else)

Who said it? Which scene? Which chapter?

I will post the answers around sept 10th; tell me, if you like to be tagged (or removed)

Until then please share, comment, tag others, send me your answers, ... whatever you like.

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

A) "You're here. That makes it as easy as it's going to get."

B) "There's no biological basis for that"

C) "He'd never let me hear the end of it."

D) "Are you saying I can tag along?"

E) "And has your confidence been shaken?"

F) "Perhaps one day you'll be so kind as to clue me in"

G) " Because it's not always that easy to fall out of love with someone"

H) "Uhh, what ... kind of questions?"

I) "You feel very tight."

J) "I ... found myself convinced otherwise"

K) "I want to know why you're punishing me."

L) "Of course I know how to relax"

M) "A girl's gotta have some secrets."

N) "We've got ourself a brand new ...."

O) "You make it hard to stick to my intentions."

P) "Hopefully something good."

Q) "Why are you being so nice to me?"

R) "I'm all he's got."

S) "Don't take the job home with you."

T) "You didn't let me down."

U) "I don't know how I let you talk me into this"

V) "You're asking me to hide this from my friends."

W) "Fighting the inevitable is our job desciription."

X) " ... Of course I did."

Y) "You had me worried there."

Z) "To want to do something more than anything..."

Tags: @queencarb @utterlyinevitable @schnitzelbutterfingers @nerdydinosaursweets @eramsey28 @mrsdrakewalkerblog @starrystarrytrouble @maurine07 @princessfuzzy12 @kenzierookie @binny1985 @adrex04 @ohramsey @theopenheartawards @takemyopenheart @justanotherrookie @aylamwrites @alwaysmychoices @jamespotterthefirst @takeharryandgo @drethanramslay @mvalentine @openheartthot

#ethan x mc #open heart #playchoices #casey valentine #ethan ramsey #ethan jonah ramsey #replay oh

[segafan37]

Shadamy Snippet: Emergency Meeting Pt. 1

Author's Note:

This Shadamy snippet used to be a Teaser Snippet for Chapter 6. I wasn't planning for it to be part of the story at all. It was just a old deleted scene that I wanted to share to give you, the audience, a broad idea about the upcoming chapter. However, after my sister read the teaser, she insisted that it be apart of the story. So, after some tweaks, the former Teaser Snippet is now apart of Chapter 6!

I hope you enjoy it! 😁 Art by @drawloverlala

Inside Dodon Pa's Mansion

[Normal p.o.v.]

After Metal and Rouge parted ways to look for Devious, Rouge started wandering through the different crowded rooms and corridors of the mansion. There were four levels to the mansion and Rouge was currently on the main floor. Metal ventured to levels 3 and 4, leaving Rouge to explore the others.

King Donda Pa was never one who lacked in abundance and his mansions were likewise. Each one was styled to attribute the environment that surrounded them, and the one Rouge was in was no different.

The mansion was large and fanciful, displaying the breath of winter. The hallways were long and wide and painted a calm blue. Tall windows filled the rooms and corridors showcasing the fierce blizzards outside. 

The halls were decorated with broad tapestries of cream and royal blue, and the floor was polished marble. The rooms were equally vast with crystal chandilers, honed marble floors and many assortment of decor to accent the rooms.

Rouge scanned the multitude of faces as she made her way throughout the main floor. Everywhere Rouge went she was surrounded by Mobians, both good and bad. Everyone seemed cordial enough, but the bat knew better. She could just feel the tension in the air. 

Rogue would have been lying to herself if she said this whole affair wasn't the least bit unsettling. It was just a matter of time before something or someone causes the inevitable. 

 It took a whole hour, but she had finally explored all of the main floor. Rouge still hadn't found her man though. It was time for her to switch tactics.

Just then her communicator picked up a male voice.

"We can't celebrate yet. We still need Rouge to do her part." 

It was the voice of Slinger the Ocelot.

"Don't you worry your pretty head about me, Ocelot." Rouge cooed, "I'm already in the mansion, and I've got to say, this mysterious dealer knows how to put on a party! I'm surprised that Dodon Pa even allowed this event! But seeing that he never takes sides...I guess it's not too surprising."

"Hey Rouge!" a female voice squealed through her eyepiece. 

Rouge immediately smiled. It was Salkia, her sweet little student. Well, she wasn't little anymore, but Rouge couldn't get the cute little 10 year old out of her head, who wanted to learn how to kick but. 

"If any of the food looks good, save me some! Okay!?" Salkia asked.

"Will do, honey!"

Slinger gave out a groan.

"Just stay focused, alright!"

Rouge rolled her eyes. She could tell he was in one of his moods again.

"Relax, Slinger. No need to get snippy!" she said.

"Yeah! We all know you're jealous!" Salkia added. 

"Mm hmm!" Rouge smiled.

Slinger released another groan, which made Salkia giggle. She knew she shouldn't be teasing Slinger when he's like this, but he's been acting like a big grump the whole day. And she was tired of it! 

Salkia and Rouge continued to pester Slinger with their giggles, until he finally spoke.

"That's not the reason why!" Slinger argued.

This made Rouge and Salkia both fall silent. They knew what he was talking about. [Author: Chapter 4 reference] No one spoke for sometime.

Rouge sighed and decided to change the subject and break the awkward silence.

"By the way, what do you mean by 'Rouge needs to do her part'? You two are the ones assigned to get the package! I'm just here in case there's a slip-up."

"And to secure our escape route!" Slinger emphasized.

"Which I already have covered!" Rouge insisted, "Now you stay focused on your job, while I stay on mine."

Slinger sighed. "Fine. We'll contact you when the package is secured."

Rouge's communicator went silent and she continued to make her way through the crowd, as different fragments of conversations caught her ears. 

"I wonder what makes this relic so powerful?" asked a female.

"Whatever it is I bet it's worth a fortune!" another spoke.

"Everyone's assuming that this relic has power, but for all we know, it could be a hunk of junk!"

"Well, if that were true, then Dodon Pa wouldn't have allowed this event to take place in his mansion in the first place."

Well, would you look at that!, Rouge laughed to herself. It seems everyone's here to get their hands on the relic. Huh! Too bad none of them will have a chance to see it!  

"What I really want to know" a male's voice began, grabbing her attention, "is who this mysterious dealer is? He clearly doesn't care who gets the relic as long as he's getting paid. And I for one, don't trust those kinds of people. If I'm going to get that relic, I need to first know who I'm dealing with." 

"Smart guy." Rouge whispered, as she approached the stairs to the second floor. 

"Okay Rouge, enough eavesdropping. You got a Mobian to find." 

Once atop the second floor, she looked about and immediately identified this level as the party floor. The music was louder here and gambling tables, slot vendors, pool tables and the like were scattered throughout the joining rooms. Rouge felt like she had walked into a casino.

Rouge peered over the corridor's open railing, and took one last look at the faces below, trying to find the one Mobian who would know how to pinpoint Devious. But she had no such luck. Rouge sighed. She knew it was a long shot. This guy was wanted after all, but Rouge couldn't ignore her strong hunch that he'd be here. 

Rouge gritted her teeth in frustration.

Where is he!?

Time was of the essence. She and Metal only had a limited amount of time to locate Devious, before Salkia and Slinger collected the relic. If her sources were correct, the best and only person who could find Devious quickly would be his favorite broker.

Rouge looked over the crowd again, but she still couldn't spot her man.

That cat could be hiding anywhere! I better check in with Metal to see how he's doing.

"Metal, honey? This is Rouge. Do you copy?"

There was no answer. 

"Metal, come in! This is Rouge. Did you find anything?"

Still silence. Rouge was about to try again, when a deep sinister voice startled her from behind. 

"Looking for someone in particular, my dear?"

Rouge spun around to come face to face with the infamous psychic magician Mammoth Mongul. 

His large tan trunk was almost touching her nose. Rouge could smell thick expensive cologne and winsted.

It was never easy to frazzle this bat; she has faced many dangers before, all without hesitation. Some, even close to death, but Rouge also knows when she's met her match. 

The hairy elephant towered over the bat, making her appear small and insignificant. Mongul's dark green orbs pierced through Rouge's teal eyes, paralyzed her. She remained in his gaze for ten full seconds.

A small smile slowly crept on the mammoth's face. Was Rouge terrified? Yes. Did she want to scream and fly away to safety? Yes. Was she going to show it? Not on her life!

The Bat released herself from Mongul's spell; eyes sparkling with defiance, as she matched the beast's smile with her own.

"I'm surprised at you, Mongul!" Rouge scolded, "You of all people should know not to be here! It could be dangerous for you." 

Mongul smiled at the bat's attempted threat, and decided to give one of his own.

"My dear, Rouge. I appreciate your concern but I can assure you that I am not the one who is in the least bit of danger."

"Is that so?" Rouge questioned, trying to sound unaffected by his words, "Well, even still! I would think you would send one of your mindless followers to get the relic for you to save you the trouble."

"Don't be so quick to judge, bat. I have sent one of my men to take care of the relic. I'm here for a different reason, and being here is no trouble at all."

Rouge raised a painted brow, "Oh?" 

"Yes. Just like you, I'm looking for someone, a colleague of mine." Mongul leaned down to bring his face closer to Rouge's ear. "And perhaps", he whispered "my colleague is the same pink cat dealer you're looking for." 

Rouge took a step back. 

How does he know about Locky!? 

Rouge swallowed, as her heart raced.

"I'm sorry, who?"

"No need to hide it, Rouge! Someone of your acquaintance told me all about it."

Rouge gasped.

Oh no, Metal! 

"No need to worry about your robot friend, my dear; he's perfectly safe. But I know he'll appreciate your concern." 

As he said this, Mongul's eyes met Rouge's and his distinct facial features began to pixelate before her. It was just for a brief moment, but Rouge could clearly see the face of her comrade. 

"..."

"..."

"Metal, …" Rouge whispered, "I'm gonna knock your bolts right out of you! And turn you into scrap!"

Metal Sonic quickly returned to his cloned form and moved out the way, before a slap could be delivered to his face. Some guests saw the scene and were shocked at Rouge's bravery.

"Why so anger?..." Metal Sonic questioned. His voice was just above a whisper. "Did I scare you?"

"Shut. Up." Rouge growled.

"Okay, okay! I just came down to tell you some news." Metal rose to his full cloned height and peered down at Rouge.

"Then start talking!"

"Not here." Metal instructed, still holding Mongul's deep voice. "Follow me."

Metal brought Rouge to a quiet room somewhere on the second floor. It wasn't like the ballroom, like the other rooms Rouge been in. This was a study. It was large in comparison to most studies, but it was still a study, none the less. 

Once both were safely inside with the door locked, Rouge turned to Metal.

"Now, talk!"

"Why are you still angry?" Metal still was using Mongul's voice. 

"Metal, stop with the cloning for one second and talk to me!"

Metal sighed, and returned back to his normal self. Rouge let out a small breath she didn't realize she was holding. Rouge folded her arms, waiting to hear her comrade's message.

"I was surprised at how many Mobians came to Dodon Pa's Mansion." Metal said simply." 

"That's what you wanted to tell me!?" Rouge screamed.

"Rouge, if you do not wish for us to be discovered in a restricted area, I suggest you lower the volume of your voice." 

"I'll start lowering my voice, when you stop messing around! Now, tell me why you brought me here!?"

There was a silence in the air, as each stared at the other.

"I found him." Metal calmly spoke.

"What?"

"I found him." Metal repeated, "I found Locky."

.

.

.

Exsert from Shadamy fanfic "12 Years Later: A New Dawn". You can read the rest of this chapter and more on Wattpad, DeviantArt, Quotev, or Webnovel.

#shadamy #slinger the ocelot #fanfic #fanfiction #shadamyforever #sega #rouge the bat #metalsonicthehedgehog #metalsonic #metalsonicfanart #my fanfiction #wattpad #deviantart #quotev #webnovel #story snippet #shadamy lovestory #love story #my writing #writers on tumblr