#going back to her saying how i’m aimless and why am i gonna bother being in school if idk what i wanna do

[filmcel]

dude i can’t deal w my mom OMFG.

#i tel my mom about me going to school finally bc i knew if i told her before i’d completely figured it out she’d ruin it for me and she has #i tel her and she starts interrogating me on what my goals r #going back to her saying how i’m aimless and why am i gonna bother being in school if idk what i wanna do #so i’m like WELL ITS GENERAL STUFF I GOTTA DO SO YEAH. #and im working towards digital media. #like dude just leave me alooooone and be HAPPY FOR ME #like this is literally what ur wanted and ur still disappointed #😂 #captain’s log #and she literally asked if i picked these classes at random or if i got help from a counselor #like i’m not a dumbass yes i talked to a counselor 🙂 #she literally thinks i’m dumb as fuck. #Like whyd i bother doing this at all.

[atinybitofau]

[ateez] H O N G J O O N G ➩ the reason why

“A DARE”

—a series involving every day objects that either force you two together or force you two apart.

• “Truth.”

• the boys glance around the room,

• analyzed the emotions and the weary.

• no one seemed peeved.

• so they dared themselves to ask the question of, “Okay, y/n. Do you like Hongjoong?”

• you analyze the atmosphere.

• read the room to make sure no one was hostile.

• to reply the honest veracity, “Yes. Yes I do.”

• Hongjoong bites the insides of his cheek,

• yours flaming in peril.

• so it’s gonna be like that huh?

• “Okay, Joong.” you smirk eyes casted upon the victorious man. “Truth or dare?”

• his eyes narrow in suspicion. “Dare?”

• afraid to speak the truth.

• predictable.

• “I dare you to kiss me.”

• no one needs a pair of glasses to see the growing relationship in the room—

• a truth or dare game unnecessary really.

• it’s not a secret you two liked each other.

• but the boys like games.

• 5 months later and it’s just a game to him.

• the relationship feels like a game.

• you feel like you’re getting played by the many times you’re pushed away.

• but you shouldn’t be.

• you’re his goddamn girlfriend and this is not how things should be.

• “Why were you with her?”

• your voice is shaking through passive aggression,

• hands balled at your sides.

• but Hongjoong shakes you off.

• like the vibration of a PS controller during a cut scene.

• “Hongjoong, why were you with her?”

• his throat croaks before he’s glaring at you claiming, “I wasn’t with her.”

• “You’re lying.”

• “Y-you— hold on. You think I’m lying?” he makes you flinch when he whips around.

• cause he’s never abrasive.

• he’s neither aggressive, he’s loving.

• your romance was novel and honest before things started getting long..

• maybe he was too used to you already.

• maybe he was getting tired of you already..

• “I saw you with her,” you look down at your hands that picked at your dress. “I saw you this morning by the cafe and you were sitting with her. But you told me you stopped seeing her. You told me you’d never lie to me again.”

• Hongjoong groans throwing his hands up in the air. “Y/n, I don’t need to tell you who I meet. Or why I’m meeting them. And no one was fucking telling you to follow me. Why were you?”

• “Why are you lying to me?” a tear falls from your eye when you ask. “Answer me that and maybe I’ll tell you why I followed you.”

• “When was I lying?”

• you choke a scoff of disbelief.

• because is he kidding?

• he can’t be serious.

• he was cheating.

• this wasn’t a game that took cheating lightly.

• hell you aren’t a game in the first place and you sure as hell aren’t gonna stand here being treated as one either.

• “You said you weren’t with her.” you pick at your keys. “That’s only lie number 1.”

• “There’s more?” he laughs in sneer amusement. “God, y/n, you really think I’m—“

• “You still love her. Don’t you?”

• he’s quiet.

• shaking harder than before fists barred to the counter.

• “Don’t you?”

• “I-I’m not answering that.”

• you scoff wiping at the tears that felt wasted..

• even though he’s telling the truth because he can’t completely lie to you.

• “I’m not gonna stand here and pretend that doesn’t bother me, cause it does.” you pack your bags as if you were waiting for this moment to come. “Honestly? It bothers me a lot. Cause you said you stopped loving her the moment you started loving me. Or don’t tell me that’s a lie too, Hongjoong.”

• his jaw clenches to hold back the lies. “I do love you.”

• that’s the honest truth,

• he does.

• but his mind’s playing tricks on him.

• his hearts playing games.

• how can he love more than one person?

• no, he should only love you.

• “Y/n, I never lied about loving you.”

• “Have you ever said anything to me? Anything true other than that?” you face him with pure despair heart hanging by a single thread falling out your chest. “I don’t know if I should believe you or if I should believe myself. That I’m just a game to you.”

• “Don’t say that.” he pulls forward to hold you but you’re hostile. “Please don’t—“

• “This relationship was built on lies, Hongjoong and I’m not gonna stand here and tell you I’m okay when I’m not.”

• he’s never done anything wrong.

• other than not tell you the whole truths, yes.

• but he’s never wanted his ex girlfriend back.

• only sees her to clear up that he’s with you.

• and he’s just abrasive because he’s confused.

• frustrated that someone he once loved keeps lying to him, saying she wants him back.

• but the truth is, he loves you.

• takes him one month to figure out how dumb he was for letting you go just like that.

• “You need to get out.” Yunho finds broken bottles on the floor, cleaning up as best he can. “Hyung, you need some rehab.”

• Hongjoong’s shaking more than usual.

• he’s got a hand tremor, that’s no lie.

• he’s tired and he misses you.

• of course he’s out of his mind.

• “I’m fine.” he lies straight from his teeth. “I just need some sleep—“

• San chokes on his spit rolling his eyes. “You need to stop drinking your ass off is what you need. And hiding here by yourself like a pity party when you’re not gonna get it.”

• truth hurts man, truth hurts.

• “What am I gonna do?” Hongjoong’s voice cracks. “I’m a liar. I’m a no good rotten excuse of a man. I don’t deserve anything but to rot in hell, is what.”

• Yunho’s jaw clenches.

• eyes shut hoping the others are doing well enough with you.

• but you’re just as bad as Hongjoong.

• if not worse.

• sleeping in bed all day and getting fat.

• what was work again?

• “I’m surprised your ass isn’t fired yet.” you hiss at Seonghwa who sits at your bed side. “Okay anaconda, relax. We’re here as detox, not intox.”

• “Funny.” you lie through your teeth in sarcasm. “Leave me alone to die please.”

• “Dude, you look pitiful in there.” Wooyoung kicks at a random milk cartoon. “When was the last time you took a shower?”

• “Last night.”

• “With what, ramen?”

• you sigh before muttering, “What are you guys doing here? And I want the truth, Seonghwa. Why are you guys in my apartment.”

• “We’re worried about you.”

• you scoff hiding you’re face in your blanket once more. “I’m fine. I just need some sleep.”

• “You need to get up, eat real fucking food, and take a goddamn shower is what you actually need.” Wooyoung smiles sinisterly. “And don’t make me drag your ass myself and take a shower with you.”

• you do as they ask because you’re just tired.

• you just want to be alone.

• confused nonetheless.

• cause shouldn’t breaking up with your lying boyfriend feel relieving?

• why is it you feel simple white lies would’ve been better than the honest truth?

• “You miss him.”

• your jaw clenches when you cry against Seonghwa’s shoulder in the car, “I don’t know..”

• “Be honest, y/n. We want the truth.”

• your sobs sound more louder than the words that escape your lips.

• “I miss him. I do.”

• “Even if he told you he loved you. Let’s pretend he said he didn’t, okay?” Seonghwa whispers finger lifting your chin up to look at him. “Wouldn’t it have hurt more if he was really lying to you? When he never really cheated on you.”

• you can’t look at him.

• because Seonghwa’s the walking definition of hurtful truth.

• it’s like facing god.

• how can you lie to Park Seonghwa the way you’ve been lying to yourself.

• “If you really loved him the way you say you do, the honest truth,” he blinks softly at you. “Then you shouldn’t be beating him and yourself up for lying a little bit in attempt to save the relationship between you two.”

• you’re so dramatic.

• you both can be so dramatic.

• like a romance game for teenagers—

• a game based on a novel.

• hey remember?

• how you and Hongjoong’s relationship used to be novel and true.

• now you’re back in his arms.

• as true as it is, you just can’t help it.

• “I love you.”

• Hongjoong holds you up against the wall, hands curled around your neck.

• you sob louder under his shadow,

• under the troubled waters.

• how crying was pretty much useless at this point when you were pretty much ready to give yourself up again.

• ready to make this game have the happy ending you want.

• “Y/n, I love you.” his fingers shakily trace aimless lines over your skin. “I’m not gonna stand here and lie to you. Say I never did when I did. Till now, I still do.”

• you kiss his lips like it’s a sin,

• like it’s cheating.

• running back to him can’t be this easy.

• there’s got to be a trick.

• “B-but how about her?” you’re afraid of loving him back this time. “What if you still love her?”

• “Maybe I do.” he whimpers cause even this hurts him. “Maybe I do but it’s you I choose. Why would I be crying here with you if it’s you I choose?”

• “Hongjoong, I don’t know what to do.” your hand grips on the collar of his shirt. “Joong, I don’t know what to do.”

• desperation hits and he’s gonna have to cheat a little.

• tell you some white lies to hide the hurtful truth from you.

• “I don’t love her.”

• “H-how can I believe you?”

• “Then don’t.” he snakes you over his arms and drops you in his bed. “Dare me to make you believe me. Dare me to get you to fall in love with me again.”

• it’s kind of cheating.

• cause, “No matter what I say, I’ve already fallen in love with you. I dare you to fall in love with me, Kim Hongjoong. Only me. Let’s do that instead.”

• fuzzy is all he feels.

• white noise an interlude to part two.

• “Just fucking stay with me, y/n. And I’ll make sure of nothing like this ever happens again.”

@atinybitofau

#ateez #ugh this isnt great im sorry #ateez kim hongjoong #hongjoong #kim hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #ateez preferences #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez one shots #hongjoong reaction #hongjoong scenarios #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong one shot #hongjoong the reason why #ateez the reason why #ateez au #hongjoong au #ateez angst #fluff ending

[mdzsgildedfate]

Gilded Fate - Chapter 9

Reincarnation AU [Chapter 9/?] Characters: Xue Yang, Xiao Xingchen, Song Lan, Lan Sizhui, Lan Jingyi, Jin Ling, Original Characters. Pairings: Xue Yang/Xiao Xingchen, Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen, Lan Sizhui/Lan Jingyi, Xue Yang/OC

Is it morning already…? I need to make breakfast…

But Xingchen feels so warm… I don’t want to get up…

How late is it?

A-Qing will complain…

Xinyi opened his eyes slowly, confused to find that the room he was in was not the coffin house, and that the person he was draped over was not Xiao Xingchen. Blinking a few times, the dream quickly disappeared from his mind and he remembered where he was. Careful not to wake Chen, Xinyi slipped out from under the covers and crawled across the room to look for his robes. After looking through his pile of clothes two or three times, he finally remembered his own robes were still in Xiao Xingchen’s room.

Pulling the borrowed grey robes back on, Xinyi stepped out of the room and headed towards the courtyard. The memory of last night was muddled, the details refusing to return no matter how hard Xinyi tried. He couldn’t remember whether or not he was the one to initiate the kiss with Chen. The only thing he could remember clearly was the face of the mutilated ghost who’d chased him into Chen’s arms to begin with.

“I must really be out of my mind.” Xinyi muttered to himself, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “What am I supposed to say to him? He’s gonna hate me no matter what.”

Although it had slowed to a lazy drizzle, the rain from last night still hadn’t stopped. In the blue dawn light, only one figure could be seen standing out in the courtyard. Smiling Ghost paced slowly around the wet stonework, seeming to follow no particular path. Xinyi watched her for a few minutes, mesmerized by her aimless wandering and how her robes billowed around as though she were underwater.

Not wanting to wait around too long and risk her noticing him, Xinyi turned around and headed back into the temple. Going back to his room and facing Chen was equally unappealing, so he let his feet lead him up and down random hallways with no direction in mind. Not long into his walk, he halted at the sound of hushed, urgent voices coming from around the next corner.

“Did you find him?”

“No, he’s not in the kitchen either. Did you find Xiao Xingchen?”

“He doesn’t know where he is either.”

“So he’s definitely not in the temple then? Why would he leave without saying anything?”

Xinyi inched along the wall to the corner and peaked around, spotting Sizhui and Jingyi a few yards down.

“I’m sure it’s fine. He probably just needs a break from being around Xinyi so much.”

A break from being around me?

“You’re probably right. Jin Ling seemed so concerned about it, though.”

“Jin Ling always sounds like that. Xingchen wasn’t worried, so I don’t think we should be.”

Xinyi turned around and left the conversation behind. Nothing else made sense since arriving at the temple, he wasn’t about to let one weird comment detract from the most important thing- Song Lan wasn’t around to glare at him. If little victories were all he got now, Xinyi would take them when they came.

During breakfast, Chen had the good sense not to bring up the events of the previous night. They ate together quietly, as though nothing unusual had happened. Even as the idle chatter started to pick up, Chen spoke with a relaxed smile and a calm demeanour. Xinyi was starting to feel at ease, not even finding the will to care when Song Lan did finally enter the room. The dark robes drifted by his peripheral, but he didn’t bother to even glance over.

Xinyi’s attention drifted around the room, pausing to listen to various conversations or watch as students mingled around. As his eyes scanned over the professors at the head of the table, he noticed how none of the apprehension from earlier had dissipated from their demeanours. Only then did he realize the figure he’d assumed was Song Lan had never actually sat down.

Finally looking directly at the figure, he could see the black robes didn’t belong to Song Lan, but to a woman with kind features, lined softly with age and weariness. A small smile appeared on her face when he looked at her, though her eyes seemed full of sadness. While the other ghosts Xinyi had seen up until now filled him with some looming dread, he felt a strange sense of relief and familiarity at her presence.

The woman held his gaze, and her sad smile, for a few heartbeats before slowly trailing around the edge of the room. At the door, she paused and looked at him again as though beckoning him to follow. Xinyi looked around and quietly excused himself from the table, following her out into the hall. She walked a good distance from the dining hall before stopping to wait for him, partially hidden in the shadows.

Xinyi approached slowly, unsure of what to expect. “Wh-... Who are you?”

The hair on the back of his neck stood up. Never before had he directly addressed any of the other ghosts like this. It felt completely counterintuitive, but the compulsion to talk to her was overwhelming.

She sighed softly, looking him over. “A-Yang…”

The sound of her voice sent a chill throughout his entire body. “M-Mom…?”

How was that possible? His mom was a pale woman with chin-length, brown hair and sharp features. The woman in front of him had dark skin and long, black hair. Her features were soft and inviting and downright motherly. Most importantly, his mom was very much not dead.

“Oh, A-Yang…” The woman took a step forward, reaching her hand out to him. “My son…”

Xinyi mirrored her movements, stepping closer with one outstretched hand. “Mom…”

The tips of their fingers touched and Xinyi recoiled slightly, surprised to find that the woman had a solid form. Nothing about her indicated that she was a ghost- She bore no injuries, her skin had colour to it, and her touch was tangible and warm. With both of their hands now clasped together, tears spilled out over her cheeks and dripped from her chin.

“A-Yang… How long I’ve waited to see you…” Her shoulders shook gently.

Xinyi’s breath hitched in his chest and tears stung in his eyes. Consciously, he knew this woman was a stranger, but every fiber of his being was screaming that this was his mother, without a shadow of doubt. When she lifted a hand to his cheek, he leaned into the touch with a stuttered breath. Feeling no longer in control of his own actions. Xinyi wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck.

The woman didn’t hesitant to hug him back, holding him tight against her. “Oh, my dear. My A-Yang… What luck I had as a mother…”

His heart skipped painfully and tears broke out as he spoke. “I missed you...”

She pulled back just enough to look at his face, the smile having disappeared from her face. “What sin did I commit to have such a wicked child?”

“Wh-what?”

She stroked a hand over his hair, smoothing out the flyaway strands. “How was I ever supposed to love a son like you?”

“What do you mean-? I don’t understand… I-”

“If I had known how you’d turn out…” She pulled away from him, sorrow overtaking her expression. “...I would have drowned you in a river as soon as you were born.”

The comments made no sense to him- this ghost made no sense to him- but that didn’t stop the feeling that his soul was being ripped from his body. Sobs racking his body, Xinyi reached out desperately, only for his hand to now pass right through her. The more he cried out apologies and begged her to stay, the more transparent her form became. When she disappeared completely, he fell to his knees, crumpled over himself on the floor. After a few minutes, the feeling suddenly disappeared.

As though the ghostly encounter had never happened, Xinyi wiped the tears from his face and stood up. Looking up and down the hall, he was relieved to see no one else had come out of the dining hall. Before that had a chance to happen, Xinyi hurried down the hall out to the courtyard to cool off. The second he was outside, the sweat on his body instantly turned to ice against his skin. He took a deep breath of the cool air and scrubbed at his face with his sleeve, trying to make sense of what just happened.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Xinyi turned around to see Xiao Xingchen standing a ways back. “Hilarious.”

Xingchen smiled, a small chuckle shaking his shoulders. “Do you want your clothes back? Or will you wear those again?”

He followed the man back to his room, trying to memorize the route this time. Once they were back, Xingchen opened his trunk again to retrieve the robes and handed them back. On top of the neatly folded pile was some golden trinket that shined under the light from the window.

“What’s this?” He asked, holding it up to inspect it.

“A gift.” Xingchen replied, watching him carefully. “Since you gave me one, I thought it’d be appropriate if I returned the favour.”

Setting the pile down on the bed, Xinyi slipped out of the borrowed robes. “You didn’t need to, you know, and this… looks expensive.”

Xingchen helped him back into the white uniform, tying the robes in place with expert hands. “It’s not. Besides, your hair is always falling out, you need something to hold it in place.”

Xinyi laughed, turning around to face Xingchen with the trinket in his hand. “Right, for the last two days I’m here?”

The man laughed and reached up to fix Xinyi’s hair. “I wanted to give it to you sooner... “

Once his hair was tied back in place, Xingchen took the ornament and fixed it to the top of Xinyi’s head. Stepping back to examine his work, his expression faltered for a moment, as though he wasn’t entirely satisfied with what he was looking at. After a moment, he swallowed and looked away, letting the smile return to his face.

“Xiao Xingchen.”

He looked back up, not quite meeting Xinyi’s eyes.

“Tell me honestly...You know what’s happening to me, don’t you?” Xinyi stepped forward, cocking his head to try to catch Xingchen’s gaze. “You said before, the ghosts I’m seeing are attached to the objects here. Is that true? Will I stop seeing them when I leave?”

Xingchen was quiet for a moment, seeming hesitant to answer Xinyi’s questions. “That’s a difficult line of questioning to answer.”

Xinyi frowned and grabbed Xingchen’s hand. “You do know the answers though.”

“Yes.”

“But you won’t tell me…”

Xingchen took Xinyi’s other hand and sighed quietly. “No… I don’t think I should be the one to tell you… I don’t think I should even be around when it happens.”

Xinyi stepped forward and put his forehead against the man’s shoulder, letting his eyes slide shut. He felt Xingchen let go of his hands, quickly wrapping his arms around him in a tight embrace. No matter how badly he wanted to keep pressing the man with questions, he knew there was no point. He held on for a moment longer, letting himself simply enjoy Xingchen’s warmth, before moving to pull away.

Only managing to move a few inches back, Xingchen’s grasp tightened, holding him in place. He met Xinyi’s eyes finally, looking at him with a strange intensity.

“I’m sorry.” He said after a long pause.

Xinyi shook his head. “It’s fine…”

Xingchen pressed his forehead to Xinyi’s, lingering as though he was considering saying something more, before placing a soft kiss against his lips. Unlike the kiss in the river, this one wasn’t quickly cut short. Xingchen paused, momentarily hesitating, and then pressed in again with a sharp inhale. Xinyi clenched his hands around the fabric of Xingchen’s clothes, refusing to let go of him this time.

The knowledge that they’d only met a few days prior completely melted from Xinyi’s mind. Something about the kiss felt achingly familiar and sorely missed. Before he knew it, Xinyi had one arm wrapped tight around Xingchen’s shoulders and the other hand tangled in his hair. Both of Xingchen’s arms were wrapped around Xinyi’s waist, with one hand between his shoulder blades and the other at the very bottom of his lower back. The intense line of questioning from only seconds ago was quickly lost in a heat of heavy breathing and wandering hands.

Locked against each other, Xinyi stumbled back, losing his balance and bringing them both down against the bed. Xingchen broke away and stared down at Xinyi breathlessly, half-kneeling half-laying on top of him. Bringing one knee up, Xinyi pushed his thigh up between Xingchen’s legs and pulled on the collar of his robes, trying to urge the man back into the kiss. Xingchen’s eyes fluttered momentarily before he let out a breath and pulled away completely to stand up.

“Xingchen?” Xinyi questioned, unable to hide the disappointment on his face.

The man turned away, flattening out his robes. “I’m sorry. We… We shouldn’t be doing that.”

He stood back up, feeling a twinge of frustration. “What do you mean, you kissed me.”

“I know.” Xingchen looked down at the floor, a strange expression on his face. “I’m sorry, but I shouldn’t have.”

Frustration turned to hurt. Xinyi balled his hands into fists, feeling his nails cut into his palms.

“Why do you keep doing this to me?” He snapped out suddenly, feeling his eyes sting again. “You keep acting like you like me- like you care about me, but-... but why? Watching me struggle like this- Is this fun for you?!”

Xingchen gaped at him, shocked. “I-... Xinyi, that’s not-...”

“Forget it.”

Without another word, he walked out of the room and disappeared down the hall. Quickly retracing his steps, Xinyi went back to his room and threw himself down on his bed, covering his head with his pillow. It was a long time before anyone else came into the room, breaking the silence that had enveloped him. When he felt someone lay down beside him, Xinyi scrunched the pillow down harder, assuming Xingchen had followed him.

When the person didn’t say anything, he lifted the pillow up just enough to see Chen’s face staring back at him.

“You ok?” Chen asked softly, looking him over.

“I’m fine.” Xinyi replied, relaxing his grip on the pillow.

Chen pushed the pillow off him and held a hand against Xinyi’s forehead. “You’re really warm.”

“Is that your version of flirting?”

He took his hand back, looking a little guilty. “N-No… Sorry, that’s not- I just meant that you look sick.”

Xinyi put his own hand to his face, feeling a sheen of sweat on his forehead. “Mm. It’s probably just a cold from being in the river so much. It’s fine.”

Chen frowned. “Maybe… Sizhui Jiaoshou sent me to come get you, we’re supposed to go on some day hike around the mountain… But if you’re sick, you should stay here and rest.”

“I feel fine.” He sat up, shaking his head. “I don’t wanna stay here by myself.”

Ignoring Chen’s protests, Xinyi stood up and brushed himself off, flattening down his robes. Once Chen was on his feet too, he led the way out to where everyone else was waiting in the courtyard. Quickly catching up to QianHua, he gave Sizhui a wave and fell in with the rest of the group. Sizhui and Jingyi took up the head of the group and led them away from the temple, following the river path south, deeper into the valley.

“What’s up with the fancy jewelry?” QianHua asked as soon as they started walking.

“Jewelry?” Xinyi gave him a confused look.

“Yeah, that!” QianHua reached up and tapped on the ornament in his hair.

“Oh, right.” With his emotions running high, he’d completely forgotten about Xingchen’s gift. “Xingchen lent it to me when I went to get my clothes back from him. He said my hair kept falling out without it.”

“You too sure seem to be sharing a lot of clothes lately.” The other man joked, winking at Xinyi.

Xinyi rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the trail, not wanting to think about Xingchen right now. Everyone else quickly fell silent as well as they trekked on down the path, too out of breath from the incline to chatter amongst themselves. By the time they stopped for their first break, the beaten path had long since disappeared, leaving them to rest wherever they could find space. All at once, there were students scattered across the ground, seated on rocks and leaning against trees.

Slumped with his back against Chen’s shoulder, Xinyi scanned his eyes over the group as he unscrewed the top of his water bottle. He took a few gulps, replaced the lid, and wiped a layer of sweat from his face.

Maybe I really am getting sick...

Huh, Song Lan isn’t here…? Did he still not come back…?

...No ghosts out here so far...

Maybe they really will disappear when I leave…

Xinyi thought about it for a minute and then frowned.

If that were true, Xingchen would have just said so.

Frustration was itching throughout his entire body, like ants under his skin. Xingchen had always been a little mysterious, but to outright refuse to tell him pertinent information about what was plaguing him... Xinyi shook his head and stood up, handing his water bottle to Chen.

“I’ll be right back.”

Chen started to stand, but Xinyi waved his hand at him.

“I don’t need help to take a piss.”

“Oh. Fair enough. Just be careful.”

Well past the point of which Xinyi stopped hearing the voices from the group, he continued down the gentle slope into the thicket of bushes. Whispers had begun picking up around him, albeit quiet enough that he hadn’t noticed them at first, but persistent enough to trigger a trill of anxiety. Finishing his business quickly, Xinyi turned to head back, coming to a stop almost immediately.

Circling around a cluster of trees, Smiling Ghost came into view a few yards up the hill. She looked at him curiously, her usual smile barely a whisper on her lips now. Xinyi stared back at her, feeling all the frustration of the day resurge. Contrary to his usual instinct when it came to dealing with the ghosts, Xinyi balled up his fists and walked right up to her.

“What do you want from me??” He snapped, struggling to keep from yelling. “You’re always following me around but you never say shit! Just get it over with already! Accuse me of killing you! Call me a monster! Just say something and quit following me around!”

She frowned and let her eyes lower to the ground.

“Everyone has so much to say, but no one has the balls to actually say it to my face. Is that gonna be you too?” Xinyi took another step closer. “Tell me why you’re here!”

Slowly bringing her gaze back up, she looked at Xinyi and silently mouthed something. His eyes widened, surprised that she actually responded to him. Tentatively, Xinyi reached a hand up and brushed his fingers against the fabric of her sleeve, curious to see if they’d pass through her or hit a solid form. When they did indeed pass through her, he recoiled his hand and looked back up at her face.

“Who are you?”

A small smile returned to her face.

“Say something!”

Her lips moved again, still no sound coming forth. He narrowed his eyes, watching carefully, trying to decipher what she was saying. Before he had a chance to ask anything else, the sound of leaves crunching rang out behind him. Smiling Ghost looked past him, looking equally alarmed, and vanished. With a string of curses, Xinyi spun around to see what had disrupted his interrogation.

Surprised to see a human figure moving between the trees, a sudden sense of fear fell over him. Quickly ducking out of sight, Xinyi peeked out just enough to see what was happening. The forest fell quiet and still, anxious anticipation pounding in his ears the longer it went on, before MingYue and her husky suddenly came out from a tangle of vines and fallen branches. He held his breath and watched on as she walked past his hiding spot, back up the hill towards where the rest of the class was resting.

Once Xinyi was sure she was far enough away, he let out the breath and stood up. A hundred questions had appeared in his brain, urging him to inspect the area MingYue had appeared. With that dog with her, why hadn’t he heard them coming? Why had Smiling Ghost seemed so alarmed? Why did the air suddenly smell like smoke? The rest of the area looked completely undisturbed, as though MingYue had really materialized out of thin air.

Xinyi paused, putting a halt to the onslaught of questions. Why should I care about this?

Is this really the weirdest thing going on here?

Fuck this. I’m not wasting time on this.

Quickly making up his mind, Xinyi retraced his steps up the hill and returned to the group. Everyone else was already on their feet, idling about as they waited for Sizhui to lead them forward. Chen and QianHua met him with a relieved look, as though they were worried he wouldn’t make it back before they left. He wiped a layer of sweat from his face and fell into step beside them, letting the swirl of thoughts dissipate from his brain.

The hike carried on through the valley, pausing one more time before they reached a pond where the river came to an end. Sizhui and Jingyi announced a lunch break and everyone broke into joyful chatter, instantly making themselves at home around the water. Before long, half of the students had shed the outer layers of their robes and plunged into the pool. QianHua and Chen followed suit, dragging Xinyi along behind them.

They all stripped down and, with a moment of consideration, Xinyi removed the ornament from his hair, dropping it unceremoniously into the pile of robes on the ground. He waded around the shore to sit on a rock jutting out from the pond, letting just the bottom half of his legs hang in the water. Chen came to sit beside him, abandoning QianHua to rough-house with another group in deeper waters.

“Are you feeling ok?” Chen asked quietly, putting the back of his hand to Xinyi’s forehead again.

“I’ll be fine. I am starting to get tired, though.” He replied, closing his eyes at the touch.

Chen smiled and ran his hand over Xinyi’s hair, tussling out the parts still holding together from the ornament. Xinyi matched the smile, grateful for the moment of normalcy. Xiao Xingchen was mysterious and exciting, but after everything that had happened the past few days, Xinyi was glad to be with something who made the ghosts feel less real.

~X~

Even though Xingchen had seemed unbothered by Song Lan’s sudden disappearance. Jin Ling couldn’t shake the anxiety festering in his gut. It very well may be normal for the man to wander away from the temple, but with the presence of demonic cultivation in the valley, he was becoming increasingly worried for the two fierce corpses. The only small relief he got was when MingYue returned from walking Gongzhu and could see that his spiritual dog was still at ease.

As the group settled down for lunch, Jin Ling allowed himself a brief moment to forget his worries. With Gongzhu napping in a patch of sunlight, and MingYue leaning on his shoulder, he ate his meal in peace. Sizhui and Jingyi’s soft voices beside him relaxed the tension in his neck, settling the quiet sense of loneliness he’d felt without them. Even the noisy presence of the other students around the pond didn’t irritate him like it usually would.

Between the warm weather, melodic song birds, and good company, it was admittedly difficult for Jin Ling to finally tear himself away from the scene. He allowed himself a few minutes after he finished eating to relax, and then gently pushed MingYue away so he could stand. A quick word of departure to her and the two Lans, Jin Ling called Gongzhu to his side and disappeared into the trees.

Following the path from memory, the Jin cultivator returned to the entrance of the cave filled with corpses. He watched Gongzhu carefully as they approached the opening, looking to her for any warning that the situation under the ground had worsened. Gongzhu trotted along beside him, panting contentedly as though they were on a leisurely walk. Once they reached the cave, the reason for the dog’s relaxed conduct became apparent. Whereas yesterday, the cave’s opening had been heavily decorated in camouflage talismans, there were now none. Jin Ling frowned, feeling all tension return to his neck.

Tying a robe to a nearby tree, Jin Ling careened down into the cave. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he walked straight to the tunnel and waded into the river. With a flame talisman lit, he quickly returned to the cavern that had previously held two dozen corpses; and just as expected, the room was now completely empty, cleared out of all evidence that anyone had been here. He swore loudly, kicking the nearest rock and sending it ricocheting against the far wall.

Jin Ling reached into his sleeve and pulled out Wei Wuxian’s compass. The needle spun around slowly, never pausing or jerking to spin in the other direction, indicating that whatever Yin energy had existed until now had disappeared. He slammed it shut and dropped it back into his sleeve, putting his hands on his hips and walking aimlessly about the cavern while he pondered the situation. Without the corpses in the cave, the only evidence he now had was the one walking corpse and singular iron nail he’d stashed away.

If I’d known the necromancer would cover his tracks so quickly, I would’ve taken one of the camouflage talismans as well… What the fuck am I supposed to do now? This was my one lead and now… Nothing!

Swearing loudly, he waded back through the river to the main cavern. The cave was giving away no new secrets or hints, so there was no point in hanging around. He climbed back up the rope and packed it away into his qiankun pouch. After confirming no scraps of evidence had been overlooked or forgotten in the area surrounding the cave opening, Jin Ling returned to the pond.

“Sizhui. Jingyi. Come here.” Jin Ling tapped each of their shoulders and gestured for them to follow as he moved out of earshot of the students.

“Rulan.” Jingyi replied, matching Jin Ling’s formal tone.

Jin Ling turned to face them, hands folded behind his back. “I didn’t want to say anything and add to your worries, when Wang Xinyi was a more pressing issue…”

“But?” Sizhui’s brows were already upturned with concern.

“The Yin energy I’ve been investigating in the valley.” Jin Ling spoke in a low, curt voice. “Yesterday, I found a cave nearby that was full of corpses, obscured by camouflage talismans.”

Sizhui and Jingyi exchanged bemused looks.

Jin Ling pulled the qiankun pouch from his sleeve and fished out the iron nail. “Each of the corpses had one of these inserted into their skulls.”

Sizhui took the nail, looking it over quickly, pausing when he spotted the sigil on its head.

“I was there just now, and everything’s been removed. Whoever was using the cave cleared it out after I found it.”

“Wait. Is this why you were so worried about Song Lan-?” Jingyi started, his eyes growing wide.

“Exactly. If there’s a necromancer in the valley, Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen are both at risk of being manipulated.” Jin Ling took the nail back and hid it away again. “How is Xinyi?”

Sizhui glanced back through the trees to the group, chewing his lip anxiously. “His energy is more unstable today, but he’s still behaving normally. I think the situation with him is less pressing in comparison.”

Jin Ling nodded. “Let’s head back to the temple. We’ll need to tell Xiao Xingchen about this as soon as possible.”

#xuexiao #junior disciples #xue yang #jin ling #lan sizhui #lan jingyi #xiao xingchen #mdzs #mdzs fic #the untamed #the untamed fic

[tearlessrain]

Wrote a little blurb/mini character study thing for my Inquisitor and Warrior, it’s not long or complete enough to bother putting it up on ao3 and I probably won’t do anything else with it, but I kinda like it, so I’m just gonna stick it here because it’s 2020 and I guess I write prose now.

Totally SFW and not even shippy, just a couple lightside Sith being bros.

“There is no emotion, there is peace,” Valdrynn breathed to the deserted training grounds. It was a Jedi mantra, not one he would ever have learned at the Sith Academy. The words felt unnatural and trite in his mouth, but he needed the sentiment behind them. He needed emptiness, even if it was temporary. He had never been taught how to meditate, at least not the way Jedi did, but he could think of no other way to contain the creeping darkness that he was never fully able to purge from himself. So he tried.

“There is no emotion,” he repeated, “there is peace.”

It was a lie. His mind refused to stay quiet. The sense of unease that never seemed to leave him anymore only grew in the thrumming silence, overlapping with his frustration at himself for feeling it until the empty space felt crowded with his own twisting, misshapen thoughts. 

“There is no emotion…”

It was too late for him. If the Jedi had found him as a child, maybe he would have become something worthwhile, or at least not destructive, but back then he’d still been one of a thousand faceless slaves in the Empire – not faceless enough, in the end – and a Sith after that, and now he was neither. He’d fallen out of the carbonite that should have been his tomb, and thousands of people expected him to know how to lead them and fight an impossible war. His gut twisted, unease flaring into aimless fear like a spark catching on dead underbrush.

“... There is peace.”

He’d thought that he might finally feel free, out of the Empire’s reach with no one left to command him, but he only felt lost, and tired, and immeasurably older than his years with none of the wisdom or experience to show for it. He wished he could tear every circular, useless thought out of his head. If only he could stop feeling everything.

“There is no emotion –”

“Liar.”

Valdrynn started, his eyes flying open. The former Emperor’s Wrath – he had introduced himself once as Kalarros, but no one seemed to want to be the first to call him that – stood at the entrance to the training grounds, watching. He spoke softly, but his voice was the kind that resonated and filled any space it was in. Valdrynn ducked his head, feeling immediately foolish and wondering how long he’d been standing there.

“Lord Wrath,” he said automatically. 

“Kalarros, please. You do outrank me now, you know.”

“I still don’t understand why. You could have taken command, no one would have questioned you. You were born for this.”

“And that is precisely why I should not have it, but more to the point, I couldn’t help but notice that you’re meditating yourself into a state of uncontrolled panic. I’ll admit I’m no expert on Jedi philosophy, but...”

“I know, I just… I thought it might do something.”

“Would you like to know what I think your real problem is? The reason this entire exercise is a waste of your time?”

“Will saying no stop you from telling me?”

“No.”

“Go on, then.”

“Your problem – one of them – is that you were never taught to properly harness your emotions. That doesn’t mean you can’t learn, of course, but right now it makes you a liability to yourself and everyone around you.”

Valdrynn flinched away as if Kalarros had struck at him.  

“You’re not turning me into one of you,” he said, more harshly than he thought he would ever have dared to speak to the Wrath, “I saw what I was becoming on that path. I won’t go back.”

Kalarros met his stare evenly.

“A Sith should be the master of his emotions, not the other way around, whatever the Academy or the Jedi might have to say about it. I can feel the anger in you, and I can feel how much you fear it, how you hold it trapped inside you. What happens when the dam finally breaks? It’s happened before, hasn’t it?”

Valdrynn didn’t respond. Kalarros looked like he already knew the answer.

“If you go on as you are now,” he continued, “you’ll turn into the very monster you’re so desperately afraid of. You’ve done nothing but trade one set of chains for another.”

“And your way is better, is it?”

“It could not be clearer to me that you have no idea what my way is, because you were trained by people who wanted weapons to unleash at their enemies and dispose of, rather than stable and capable Sith who might one day replace them. They were fools, and it weakened the Order to the breaking point long before you or I were part of it, but I suppose it served those few well before they were buried under their own incompetence. Tell me, is it anger you sense in me now? Am I a beast incapable of anything but rage and destruction?”

Valdrynn looked at him for a long moment, then reached out, cautiously, past the loud clashing of his own mind. He was used to the imposing weight of Kalarros’s presence by now, but had never examined it more closely, and he was caught off guard by the impossibly deep well of power within it. He had seen that power unleashed before, and had felt the overwhelming fury that Kalarros called into himself in battle, but where he had expected a coiled spring barely restrained from lashing out, or some waiting, hidden monstrosity, he found only stillness. He stared at Kalarros, brows pulling together uneasily.

“I’ve seen you call lightning from the Force,” said Kalarros, “You’re skilled at it, in fact. But you don’t hold it in your fist. Certainly doing so would make you a formiddable opponent, but it would destroy your body in the process. You had to learn to channel it. And now, even if lightning struck you from the sky, you would know how to let it pass through you and into the ground without harming you. 

“Fear, hatred, the Dark Side of the Force… it is a tool that serves a purpose. I can call it to me when needed, but I do not hold it inside me, nor allow it to rule me. Lashing out in a fit of rage is easy and reckless, but allowing yourself to feel and understand, letting it flow through you and strike at your target without being burned yourself, that is an art form in which even Sith rarely achieve true mastery.” 

“I didn’t expect to hear something so like Jedi teachings from the Emperor’s Wrath.”

Kalarros didn’t smile, but Valdrynn saw a glint of amusement in his eyes. He stood and considered the row of mannequins in their battered Skytrooper chassis across the room, and lifted his hand. Something changed in his aura, barely perceptible at first, like water threatening to boil, then spilled over in a roiling mass of malevolent energy that Valdrynn felt break over him like a wave, even though he could tell that the brunt of it was directed entirely away from him. One of the mannequins imploded violently, shards of wood and metal flying out so forcefully that some of them lodged themselves in the walls, the smell of char and overheated metal filling the room from the crumpled mess of twisted metal that was left of it. Kalarros turned back to him, something ravenous and inhuman staring out from behind his too-bright eyes. Valdrynn was seized by the overpowering impulse to flee from him, but before he could move the feeling had faded, and when he looked back Kalarros was himself again.

“My first and last apprentice was a Jedi Padawan before she came to me,” he said, “She taught me as much as I taught her. But I am no Jedi. And neither are you.”

#seriously they're like the only two in this AU who DON'T hook up with each other at some point #swtor #oc: valdrynn #oc: kalarros #sith inquisitor #kalarros has the personality of a grizzly bear he's super chill until he's not #and if he's not you're probably already dead #I am absolutely talking out my ass about jedi and sith philosophy like I can't overstate how much research I did not do #I also want to be clear since it's it's not evident in the text #that we are FULLY into Scottish Valdryn by this point in the timeline #he has absolutely given up on the posh accent

[rami-hoe]

Confessions (Part five)

Pairing: Josh x reader 

Word Count: 2.3K 

Graduation was just around the corner, and as much as I wanted to pretend like I was cool about it, I was freaking the fuck out. After the prom everything became far too real for my liking. This was it. On June 25th, I would officially be a high school graduate with the diploma and the hat and everything. University, something that up until this point had seemed like some kind of mythical creature, was now only a few months away. I was finally starting to understand what people meant when they said “the end of an era.” People I’d known for years would disappear from my life. Most of them would never return to it. It’s not like we were all joined at the hip, but the idea of never seeing the people I’d spent six hours a day, five days a week with for the last 13 years again was a lot more frightening than I cared to admit. 

I suppose I was one of the lucky ones, though. I wasn’t going through my graduation freakout alone. Josh was right there, every step of the way. He already had his college plans lined up. He knew exactly where he wanted to go and who he wanted to be. I, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure. The idea that I had to decide what I wanted to do for the rest of my life right now was terrifying- I didn’t know how Josh did it. Truth be told, I envied him. I would give anything to be half as certain as he was. There was no apprehension with him, no doubt. He told me he’d known what he wanted to do with his life since the fourth grade. For him, graduation wasn’t a giant leap into the dark abyss that was the rest of your life- it was just another step forward on a path he was already sure of. 

I tried to avoid talking about graduation as much as possible, but it wasn’t exactly easy when Josh was so excited about it. It seemed like every time I saw him, he had something new to tell me about the grad party he was planning, or the program he was planning on taking in the fall. It was a film studies BA and he couldn’t be more thrilled about it. It was at a pretty great university too, and he hadn’t really expected to get in. When he got his letter of acceptance, he was over the moon. I wanted to be supportive and happy for him and all that, but whenever he talked about where he was going, I was reminded of the fact that I was standing still. Thankfully, Josh didn’t seem to notice. He was too wrapped up in his plans, and I was grateful for it. I didn’t really feel like discussing my complete and utter lack of direction with someone who had his plan written in stone by the time he was thirteen.

                                                      ♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

When the bell rang at the end of last period, I grabbed my stuff from my locker and hurried out into the parking lot. This week had been entirely too long, and I was looking forward to finally getting some time to relax. When I got to Josh’s car, I leaned against the passenger’s door and pulled out my phone. Beth and Hannah showed up just a few minutes later. “Where’s Josh?” Beth asked. I shrugged. “Probably just got caught up with Mike or something.” We were waiting there for about ten minutes before Josh stalked out of the building. 

“Took you long enough,” Hannah said. She was just teasing, but Josh shot her a glare anyway. 

“You don’t like waiting, you can walk,” he said. He unlocked the car and got in the driver’s seat. 

“Jeez. I was joking, take it easy,” Hannah mumbled as she and Beth scooted into the backseat. 

“You okay?” I asked quietly as I pulled my door shut. 

“Fine,” he replied. He wasn’t, that much was obvious. I’d learned to read him pretty well over the past decade or so, and on the Josh scale of pissed off, he was at a seven. Not good. But if he didn’t want to talk about it in front of his sisters, I wasn’t going to push it. If it were at a four or five, maybe, but not a seven. “Am I dropping you at home or what?” Josh asked, breaking the… Well, I don’t think you could call it uncomfortable silence since the radio was playing, but it was tense and no one was talking. 

“Nah, I’ll come back with you guys,” I said. When we got back to the Washington’s place, I followed my brooding boyfriend down to the basement. He grabbed two cokes from the mini fridge and plopped down on the couch. 

“You gonna tell me what’s bothering you now?” I asked as I sat next to him and claimed the second coke. 

“It’s nothing,” he said as he leaned forward to grab the remote. I snatched it out of his hand before he had a chance to turn on the TV. “Y/N!” 

“You’ve been in a bad mood since we left the school,” I said. “What happened?” 

“I just had a bad day, okay?” His jaw tensed as he spoke. Shit, we were moving into eight territory. 

“You were fine this morning, and you were fine at lunch,” I said softly. I didn’t want to fight him. If I got too pushy, he would just get more dismissive. “I just want to help. Talk to me.” 

Josh sighed and put his can down on the table. He didn’t use a coaster, but that table already had too many water rings to count. I was pretty sure his parents bought it knowing Josh would have it looking like shit in no time- it was the only cheap thing they owned. “It’s nothing,” he repeated. “It’s stupid. It’s just…” I didn’t say anything. It seemed best to let him get there on his own. “Ms. Larson stopped me after class today,” he started. Ms. Larson was his English teacher, and one he was none too fond of. “Said she was ‘concerned about me’ and wanted to know what my plans were for after graduation.” He scoffed. “So I told her what I was doing and she just looked so… Shocked. Like she couldn’t believe I actually had a plan.” 

I scooted closer to him. “She doesn’t know the first thing about you,” I said. 

“But she’s not the only one,” he argued. “Everyone- my guidance counselor gave me a pamphlet on exploratory studies before he even asked what I wanted to do. Jess is always making those bullshit jokes about how I’m gonna ‘drink my way through college. My fucking Aunt Lisa called to tell me how surprised and excited she and Uncle Bill were that I was going. Everyone thinks I’m just some stupid slacker who’s gonna mooch off his parents until they die.” 

“Then fuck everyone,” I said. “If any of them really knew you, they’d know there’s nothing to be surprised about.” 

“Isn’t there?” He laughed humorlessly. “I’m just some party boy screw up, right? People are probably laying down bets on how long it takes me to flunk out.” 

I grimaced at the harshness in his voice. Josh was always his biggest critic, and as aloof as he may seem, he took people’s opinions of him to heart. “Don’t talk like that, Josh,” I said. “Take it from someone who does know you- you’re a lot smarter than people gave you credit for. You know what you want out of life, you just aren’t afraid of having some fun while you work towards it. That’s not a screw up.” 

Josh tucked one leg under himself and turned to face me fully. “But what if they’re right.”

“They’re not-” 

“They could be! What if I get there and I can’t do it. I’m not like you, Y/N; I don’t have the kind of options you do.” 

I furrowed my brow. “What?” “I mean, you could do anything, and whatever you decide to do, you’re gonna be great at. You literally can’t choose a program because you have so many options. But all I have is this one thing I think I’m good at, and if I’m not… Then I’m just gonna be exactly what they all think I am: a loser.” 

It took me a minute to process what he’d just said. Was that really what it looked like from the outside? Like I just had too many options? I shook my head. “Josh, I can’t choose a program because I have no fucking clue what I want to do with my life. I don’t know what I love yet; you do. And that’s exactly why you’re not gonna fail,” I said. “You’ve had this passion in your life for so long; you’re not gonna give up on it until you’ve reached your goal.”

The faintest of smiles twitched onto Josh’s lips. “Is that what you really think or are you just saying that to make me feel better?” 

“I don’t know anyone more willing to put in the work to make their dreams a reality than you,” I said. “You’re gonna kick this program’s ass.” 

Josh leaned in and kissed me softly. “Thank you,” he whispered against my lips. 

I chuckled. “You’re welcome,” I said. “And if anybody else tries to tell you you’re not cut out for this, you send them my way.” 

“You gonna beat them up for me?” 

“What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t?” He laughed, and I surrendered the remote I was still holding hostage and cuddled up to him. 

He turned the remote over in his hands a few times, but didn’t turn the TV on. “You know there’s nothing wrong with taking a gap year, right?” 

“I thought we were talking about your college problems,” I said. 

“We were,” he said. “But I didn’t realize you had college problems to talk about. And relationships are supposed to be, uh.. What’s that word? It’s like mutual but- oh- reciprocal!” He grinned proudly. “So we talked about my problem, now we can talk about yours.”  

I sat up. “It’s not really a problem,” I said. “I’m just feeling like I should have my shit together more than I do.” 

“I mean, how many people honestly have their shit together at eighteen?” he asked. “I don’t think it’s very many.” 

“It seems like everybody from where I’m standing,” I said with a sigh. 

“Nah,” Josh said. “It’s just a lot of people pretending to know what the hell they’re doing in life so the rest of the world doesn’t find out they’re scared shitless. Myself included. At least you have the balls to admit you need some time to figure it out. Plenty of people go to uni right out of high school just because they’re worried about what people will think if they don’t.” 

“I didn’t realize being aimless in life was such a courageous act,” I said sarcastically. 

“You’re not aimless,” Josh protested. “You want to figure out what you want to do- that’s an aim.” 

I snorted. “I don’t think that counts,” I said. 

“Of course it counts!” He argued. “What bigger goal is there than figuring out what you want to do for the rest of your life? It’s not a given. Some people never get there. You’re not taking a year to fuck off and do nothing- you’re taking a year to make a massive decision you haven’t had time to really think about yet. There is nothing wrong with that.” 

My gaze fell to the rings on the coffee table. “I hate it when you make sense,” I said. “It’s a lot easier for me to stay angsty when you aren’t being all sweet and encouraging.” 

Josh chuckled and kissed the side of my head. “Too bad. I don’t plan on stopping any time soon.” 

I smiled up at him. “I love you.” 

He ran the back of his fingers down my cheek. “I love you too.” 

“Can we watch something stupid now? I need to wash off all this coming of age shit,” I said with a grin. 

Josh laughed and turned on the TV. The sci-fi network came on; it was playing a marathon of the original Star Trek series. It took about five seconds to recognize the episode and gasp. “Oh my god, it’s Spock’s Brain,” he said. He turned his head towards me with this huge, open-mouthed smile. “If you want something stupid, this is the goddamn motherload.” He grabbed the remote, paused the show, and leapt up from the couch. “Hold on, I need to get some snacks. This is a masterpiece of the small screen- we need the full experience.” He ran up the stairs and into the kitchen. I wasn’t done laughing by the time he came back with a bag of Doritos in one hand and a bag of chocolate chips in the other. “We didn’t have any movie candy,” he said. “But these’ll be fine.” He sat back down, grabbed the remote, and looked at me. “Are you ready for the worst thing you;ve ever seen in your life?” 

“Hell yeah,” I said, and he pressed play. In that moment, watching Josh eat a handful of chocolate chips while this god awful episode played, it didn’t matter that I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life. I knew who I wanted to spend it with. And that was enough. 

#joshua washington #josh washington #josh washington imagine #josh until dawn #josh washington x reader #rami malek #RM: Josh #confessions

[thesurielships]

i want your number tattooed on my arm in ink, i swear

Summary: Rhys has a crush on the mystery girl from the library. He approaches her, and a very awkward conversation ensues. 

Word count: 1.4k

Masterlist

‘Mother’s tits, Rhys. When you said you wanted to hang out, I never thought you meant the library. Is it snowing?’ he asked as he cast a brief look towards the cloudless August sky. ‘Are pigs flying?’

‘Will you shut up? This is a library.’

‘I can see that,’ Cassian retorted. ‘What I can’t see is why we’re here.’

‘We’re here to study.’

‘Finals are two months away.’

‘Six weeks, actually,’ Azriel corrected. ‘And stop that, you’re going to fall and break your skull.’

Cassian leaned forward so that all four feet of his chair were on solid ground. Being Cassian, that motion resulted in a loud bang. People hissed collectively at him to shut up.

‘People are trying to study, Cass,’ Azriel chided, eyes glued on his laptop.

‘I’m sure you are. Rhys, on the other hand, is definitely not.’

Rhysand ripped his eyes away from the real reason he was in the library. ‘I am studying.’

Cassian rolled his eyes. ‘Oh, please. I bet my wings you haven’t read a single word since we got here. Unless you meant you’re studying that girl’s body, in which case my wings are off the table.’

‘I have no idea what you mean.’

‘Oh for the love of - ’

‘Shhhhhh.’

‘I am sick of this,’ Cassian whisper-yelled, gently laying the hand he had been about to slam on the table. ‘Are you gonna keep staring at her like a lovesick teen or are you gonna do something about it?’

‘The only thing I am staring at is this paper.’

‘We didn’t follow that girl here for nothing. So tell you what. Let’s bet. You get her number, I pay for your entire Cauldron damned first date. She rejects your ass, I get your daemati card.’

Rhys bristled. ‘I am not giving you my daemati card.’

Cassian smirked. ‘Get her number, then.’

Rhys stood up. He glanced at her. Shit. She seemed so focused on her laptop.

He slowly made his way toward her table, summoning his nerve, and by any luck, his charm.

‘Hello.’

She looked up, a frown on her pretty face.

‘Is this seat taken?’

She shook her head.

‘Do you mind if I sit?’

She looked at all the empty tables around them, her eyes lingering on the table he had just left, where Cassian and Azriel were blatantly watching his pathetic approach.

‘Sure.’

He sat down, the scrape of his chair too loud in the silent library.

‘So…’

Her eyes were glued on the screen of her laptop.

‘You’re a student here?’ he finished lamely.

‘Yes.’

‘Freshman?’

‘Yes.’ This, she said with vigor, as she grabbed her mouse - she used a mouse with her laptop - and shook it furiously.

‘You look familiar. Where have I seen you before?’

‘I don’t know. The uni we both attend, maybe? Unless you don’t go here.’ Her tone was sharp, dismissive. Rhys felt a blush creep up his neck.

He cleared his throat. ‘Are you… studying?’

‘Depends on how you define studying.’

Rhys perked up at the opportunity. ‘How do you define it?’

‘As not going around to other people’s tables and engaging them in aimless conversations.’

‘Oh.’

Silence. Such an awkward silence. Rhys was itching in his seat. He had half a mind to abort the mission and go lick his wounds elsewhere. He would’ve done just that if not for the very loud snort that reverberated through the library.

‘Shhhhh.’

‘Sorry,’ Cassian whispered, not sounding sorry at all.

Rhys’s eyes flicked back to the mystery girl, who was once again shaking her mouse violently.

‘Is there something wrong with your mouse?’

‘Yes,’ she frowned. ‘It’s lagging. I want to get this character done by today, and it’s. freaking. lagging!’ she punctuated her last statement with slamming the mouse against the desk.

Rhys winced. ‘A character?’

‘Yes. I’m an art major. It’s for my comic class.’

‘Makes sense.’

At this, she finally met his gaze, her expression wary. ‘What is that supposed to mean?’

‘You seem very artistic,’ he said, glancing meaningfully at the paintbrush tucked behind her ear.

‘Ah.’ Her eyes were back on the screen, but the faintest blush colored her cheeks.

‘Don’t worry, darling. It looks good on you.’

‘Thank you.’

Again, silence reigned, interrupted only by the frantic click of her mouse and the frustrated groan she let out every time it lagged.

‘Do you mind if I see?’ he asked, gesturing to her computer.

She showed him her character, and his breath caught in his throat. It was a warrior. Tall, strong, wearing pitch black armor. He had blue black hair, violet eyes, and an insufferable smirk on his face. Two massive, membranous wings loomed ominously behind his back.

It was him. A fantastical, Prythian-y version of him, maybe, but he could’ve sworn it was him. However, as he had no interest in making a fool of himself, he chose not to comment on it.

‘It’s amazing. You’re very talented.’

She smiled, her first genuine smile. It was beautiful. ‘Thank you.’

‘So, you play Prythian?’

‘Not really, but I do collect the cards. The details on them are amazing. Like, here,’ she quickly went through her bag and brought out a deck of cards. She showed him one with a blonde woman and a glass globe. ‘The Morrigan and her Veritas. I just love the Veritas. Do you see how the color subtly changes, and is opposite to the reflection of the light? And here.’

She chose another card, which happened to be Cassian’s favorite.

‘The Illyrian warriors and their legendary wings. Look at how they shimmer in the light, split by a map of veins of gold and red. Backlit, there is a certain ancient and ethereal quality to them. However, in other cards, like Death Incarnate for example, instead of majestically beautiful, they’re pictured as deadly. Pitch black and all encompassing, they do not let any light through. Instead, it is directed upwards, highlighting the wickedly sharp claws.’

She paused.

‘I’m rambling, aren’t I?’

Rhys struggled to hide his smile. ‘No. Go ahead. I have like a hundred cards and never bothered to pay attention.’

‘I have two hundred and three cards. Somehow, I can’t seem to find the daemati one.’

Rhys saw his chance and had every intention to take it.

‘Would you be - ’

‘Rhyyyyyys,’ Cassian’s obnoxiously loud whisper interrupted him. ‘Come here for a sec.’

Rhys rolled his eyes. ‘If you’ll excuse me,’ he nodded apologetically to Feyre.

She waved him away, eyes already back on her screen.

He was going to kill Cassian.

‘What?’ he ground out when he reached his brothers’ table, sprawling defeatedly in his seat.

‘Nesta just texted me u up? It’s 4 in the afternoon! What the hell is that supposed to mean?’

Rhys pinched his nose. Cassian and Nesta’s on and off relationship had always gotten on his nerves, but now he wanted more than ever to smack them both on the head and lock them together somewhere - far away from him - to solve their issues.

‘How in the world - ’

‘Rhys?’ interrupted a purring, very feminine voice. He looked up to find the mystery girl’s stormy eyes on him. ‘Here is the card missing to your collection,’ she said as she lay her hand flat on his chest, then left with a wink.

His mouth dropped open, and remained so as he followed her swinging hips out of the library. He stared at the shelves she had disappeared behind for a long moment before Cassian’s muffled curse shook him out of his stupor.

‘Holy shit, man.’

Rhys looked down at the neatly folded piece of paper in his lap.

00XXXXX

Feyre

PS: Be careful who you stare at, darling. They might just be staring at you back. Also, that was not for my art class.

Tag list: okay so i got very mixed requests and it got confusing. I’m just gonna tag everyone and hope you like it. If you want to only be specifically tagged in one of my works, do say so.

@joyceortiz13 @bailey-4244 @quakeriders @standbislytherin @mariamuses @ignite14 @1800-fight-me @velarian-trash @rhysands-highlady @queenblueoffire @rowaelinforeverworld

#feysand #feysand au #feysand fanfic #my fanfic #feyre #feyre archeron #rhysand #cassian #azriel #acotar #acotar au #acotar fanfic #acomaf #acomaf au #acomaf fanfic #fluff #feysand fluff #mine #sjm

[archived-lara]

I saw a post that made me think about Daisy and Jon so I wrote something heavily inspired by it. Longer than I guessed it would be.(it’s like 1.7k words) (link for ao3 ) spoilers up to MAG 165 

Jon and Martin found her just as Basira did. She almost wished they were a bit late. It wasn’t really fair to Basira maybe, but god she just wanted it to end. Daisy was waiting for her. She knew Basira would keep her promise and death would be better than being lost in the Hunt. The forever chasing, the aimless wondering, the prey that run, but not fast enough. Never fast enough.  

She tried finding monsters. Monsters like her. Cause they were faster and stronger than other prey, took longer to hunt and she just needed to bid her time till Basira found her. She hated causing harm she hated hunting what once was people till there was nothing but fear left in the poor husks of... Well she never got to finish that thought before really, no need to start now. Monsters were... Better? Was it because she didn’t want to hurt what might’ve been innocent people, or was it just her old habit snapping back into place? So long they fooled themselves in the archives, it’s gone away yay(!) But as much as it loves the chase the Hunt won't let its prey to run forever, and its hunters don’t get to hide either. There is a game to be played, and no one cares what the pieces might want.

So the only thing Daisy had to look forward to in between one prey and the next was the relief she would get when her partner killed the big bad wolf, with the scent of blood she never got to outrun and the maddening thump-thump-thump of the adrenalin filled heart. A beat so loud it almost covers up the screams of her prey. All she wanted was the quiet. With a bullet to the head or the heart, or maybe both, she hoped to find rest.

But of course, Jon wouldn’t let it. Perfect timing really. Right as she was preparing to be the prey, Jonathan Sims had to walk in there with a wild new haircut and horrible clothes that doesn’t make the slightest sense and damn it all to hell, was he seriously wearing her cardigan? He called out to Basira first. Asked her to give him a minute, pleaded a little when she wanted to refuse, her head no doubt swaying with the power around them, the same power that ran through Daisy’s veins. In there you had to pick, are you the hunter or are you the prey, will you run or will you chase? Jon broke through it and made her stop.

Against Martin’s better judgement it seemed, although he didn’t seem to protest much, goodness did they have a death wish or were they trying to test the limits of the new world?  

No! Daisy wanted to yell, Please just don’t make me live with your blood on me too. But the Hunt didn’t call to her. As he took a step closer she wanted to run. She felt like prey.  

It didn’t make sense to her mind that all her instincts yelled at her Danger, Run, Danger when all her eyes saw was this small man who managed to look like he hasn’t slept in years even in a world no one needed sleep, all skin and bones. And he managed to talk her down. Calm her ever louder heart with just his words and the damned sense of security he brought her, the quiet she longed for. She felt her claws retracting, the thrill of the chase loosening its grip on her. Till she couldn’t stand anymore. She realized she was gonna fall down and for the first time in months she could let it. And when she did let go instead of the hard ground she fell into the skinny arms of her friend. How he managed to hold her up was a mystery to her, but she didn’t bother thinking much as she let herself be embraced, be held up and finally feel how tired she really was. Jon shrugged off the cardigan awkwardly as he held her and wrapped it around her shoulders.

...

Now they walked. Slowly towards the center of all these horrors, to the place that had been both a safe haven and hell for all of them, to do something about this apocalypse world, Daisy once more under the calm gaze of the Eye, walking away from the Hunt. Tuning out its calls. Basira was silent beside her, and Daisy knew it must be just as weird to her walking like this when just mere hours ago she was going to kill her. Jon and Martin walked in front of them, trying to start some idle conversation to drown out the screams around them.

Daisy noticed the more they walked the quieter Jon got. He seemed like he was going to be sick any minute. She reached for his arm, only for Basira to grab it in the air, eyes wide, on high alert. Both Martin and Jon froze not knowing what to do.

“Relax, I was just gonna ask him if he was ok,” whispered Daisy. Her throat ached every time she did more than humming, words felt foreign on her tongue after months of not talking. Then, pushing past the pain of her partner fearing her, she turned her eyes to Jon and raised an eyebrow at him.

Martin's eyes somehow got wider and turned to Jon in an apologetic way “Oh I am such an idiot, I completely forgot. Do you need to...”

“I think I need to, yeah sorry I just thought it wasn’t the time to... bring it up? Why don’t you guys go ahead, I’ll join you in a moment.” Jon looked ashamed for some reason. Daisy wondered what this was about.

“Are you the only person who needs to go to the bathroom in this hell world?” she couldn’t follow their conversation and decided the air could do with a bit of lightening. And it worked, Martin looked like he was gonna laugh.

“Wha- oh god no! Nothing like that, well somethi- yeah no not like that at all. I just. I need to vent for a bit. Like how I needed to read the statements. You don’t need to hear it. Martin usually takes a walk, so just go ahead?” Jon was so flustered, Daisy almost felt bad about the joke but when he looked up to her and Basira there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. They were slightly glowing like there was a green fire behind his irises.

Basira just exhaled slowly and walked ahead, Martin followed her but Daisy stayed.

“Aren’t you gonna go with them?” Jon asked after a beat.

“Would you mind if I stayed? I don’t think Basira likes having me around just yet. And I’d prefer to sit and wait now that I can. Besides it must feel better not being all alone while, what did you call it? Venting?”

“I don’t have a word for it actually. It’s like the world is full of statements that demand to be read and it just spills out of me. I wouldn’t mind it but you might. It isn’t pretty Daisy.”

“Huh, interesting. You know I don’t mind listening to you record, hey how long have you been holding that tape recorder?”

“Oh? Since Martin and Basira walked away? Sorry I didn’t even notice. It will hit closer than it did back then Daisy, we’re in the Hunt’s territory now. You... You don’t need to hear that, or see me like that.”

“Jon, if we are talking about not needing to see the avatar sides of each other, I’m still half covered in dried blood you know, so we kinda already crossed that line, don’t you think? I know you can’t help thinking it’s a bad thing, but for what might be the first time in my life I have some hope that we don’t have to do this forever. Do what you need to do. You wouldn’t ask someone to not look while you were drinking water back when we needed to now, would you?”

“I... thanks I guess and. Daisy for what it’s worth I’m sorry. For everything. Don't give me that look, I know we talked about this. I’m not saying you’re completely innocent. Doesn't change the fact that it sucks and I would prefer you didn’t have to go through it.”

“Thanks. I’m sorry about you too. Oh and thanks for the cardigan too.”

“You do know it’s yours, right? It was too big for me anyways. I just grabbed it on our way out of the cabin. I think I was hoping I’d get the chance to return it to its owner.”

“Didn’t you have a statement to spill out of you?”

“Wow rude much. I’m getting to it, calm down.”

So they sat on the ground full of dead grass and Daisy let his friends voice wash over her. Her brain not fixating on any one word and following the flow of his voice, looking into his bright green eyes, watching the tension drain out of his shoulders. With the comforting weight of her favorite cardigan and holding the hand of her friend who saved her more than twice now she just managed to find some sort of calm. The world was quiet apart from Jon’s shooting voice and even the horrific things he was saying couldn’t take the peace away from her. So Daisy let him fill the quiet. When Jon finished his recording, they got up. Jon looked worried but Daisy just smiled at him and they started walking again.

“Thanks,”

“Jonathan I don’t care if your eyes glow now, if you thank me one more time, I will break an arm or two.”

“What?”

“I’m serious. You’re so skinny it would be like snapping a twig”

“No, not that. I mean maybe that, we’ll come back to it in a moment but my eyes are what now?!”

Daisy just laughed.

“I’ll stop saying thanks if you do too... C’mon they’re this way.”

---

“Did you guys know Jon finds merry-go-rounds thrilling?”

“MARTIN!!!”

“You what!?”

“Oh no no no I must know more! Tell me everything!”

#the magnus archives #cw: suicidal thoughts #is that how you tag that #idk the beginning is a bit hard I guess cause. yknow. the promise... #jon and daisy's friendship... #I can't stop writing jon talking daisy out of the hunt I'm sorry #I got sidetracked a lot so not everything was said #but i tried so read if you want I guess #my post

[avis-writeshq]

Zach Mitchell x Reader

Hello everybody! So, I haven’t seen a lot of these on the internet lately, so I decided to write one! You know, just in case a fangirl (or boy. I don’t discriminate) like yourselves are in need of a good ol’ fan fiction to keep you sane.

Requested: No

Warnings: Mild swearing? Mentions of blood (Like, 2 sentences or something).

Word count: 2,334 (YAY! A LONG ONE!)

Things you probably wanna know, for all you ‘x reader’ illiterates:

(Y/N): Your Name

(H/C): Hair Colour / Color

(E/C): Eye Colour / Color

***                                                                                                                                                                                                

You hummed to yourself quietly as you wondered around Jurassic World, in the hope you can locate the nearest café when you felt a small tap on your arm. Swiftly turning around, you almost didn’t see the young boy who had tears in his eyes.

“You okay, bud?” You asked, a sympathetic look on your face. “Are you lost?”

“My brother and I were trying to find the triceratops enclosure, but we got separated. He- he said to meet at the gift shop, but he has the map and I can’t find it!” He wailed, a small pout on his face. His blue eyes look up at you pleadingly.

“Hey, I was just there!” You lied, hoping to raise the boy’s spirits. “Come on, I’ll take you!” Temporarily forgetting about your snack, you took the boy’s hand with a friendly smile. “I’m (Y/N), by the way. What’s your name?”

“I’m Gray! Do you like dinosaurs?”

“Sure do! I’d say I like diplodocus the best. It’s a herbivore, right?”

“Yeah, it is! I like all the dinosaurs! They’re so awesome! Have you seen the size of the Tyrannosaurus’s teeth? They could grow to the size of a big banana! Ooh, ooh! Have you ever wondered why a Spinosaurus has that plate on its back? You could never guess that it’s to keep it cool!” He bounced on his toes as he walked, wearing a grin so big that it can break his face in two.

“Dinosaur nerd, huh?” You smirked, dodging a lady who was looking at her photographs. She glared at you but didn’t say anything. “Ever thought of visiting the mosasaur feeding?”

“Yeah, we’ll go straight there after I take a few pictures of the triceratops!”

After a few minutes of aimless wandering, you finally spotted the gift shop. In front of the store, there was a tall boy with brown hair, holding a map and talking into his phone.

“Hey, that’s my big brother! Zach, Zach, over here!!!” Gray yelled at the top of his lungs, drawing a lot of unwanted attention.

You froze. ‘Zach’ was coming closer and you had to keep yourself from dying right there. Zach Mitchell, your chemistry partner, was at Jurassic World. That idiot who ‘accidentally’ blew up your oh so perfect formula with sodium. That idiot who blamed you for burning his notes with the Bunsen burner; it was really him who put them next to the matches. That idiot who tipped out your entire bag in search for his ‘lucky pencil’, claiming that you stole it. Zach Mitchell the bloody idiot.

“Zach, this is-“

“(Y/N). Yeah, I know.” He rolled his eyes, shoving his phone into his jeans pocket. “Don’t you want to go see the triceratops?”

“I wanna see the mosasaur feeding. Then we can go find the triceratops.”

“Fine, come on then.”

‘Gee, rude,’ you thought to yourself, subtly glaring at his direction.

“Can (Y/N) come too? S/he’s the one who helped me find you.” Gray gave his signature puppy eyes, but Zach didn’t fall for it.

“No.”

“You say that as if I want to go,” You grumbled in distaste, rolling your (E/C) eyes.

The younger boy frowned, his light brown hair moving as he turned to you and his brother. “You guys… know each other?”

“Unfortunately,” you mutter, scowling. “Look, I’m just gonna go find some food.”

“You and your food. No wonder you’re so fat,” Zach quipped.

“You and your phone. No wonder your brain lost all its brain cells,” you retorted. “Good day.”

“It was before you came around.”

You huffed, turning tail when you felt your shirt being tugged on. “Gray…”

“I know my brother’s an idiot, but can you please come with us to see the mosasaur?”

“… Fine.”

***                                                                                                                                                                                              

You sat rigid in your chair, Zach sitting to your left and Gray to your right. You really wanted to get out of there. Honestly, you just wanted to get some food, for goodness sakes! Inwardly groaning, you leaned against the chair with a heavy sigh. You really needed to learn how to be more assertive.

At that moment, the feeding began. The elevated seats rose slightly higher, and you go to see the sight of a very large pristine pool. And when it’s large, I mean large. Ripples emerged at the surface while bubbles came from below. A huge white shark was hanging over the pool and there was a lady holding a microphone while explaining some random things. Before long, a huge sea animal jumped out of the water, its killer jaws closing on the dead shark. A giant splash was made, soaking the entire auditorium with water.

A laugh bubbled out of your throat as the cold water hit your face, temporarily forgetting your hatred to Zach. With a teasing smirk, he shook the water out of his hair, splashing your face some more. Flicking some water with your hands, you almost yelped as the seats slowly began to go down, letting the people watch the mosasaur swim round and round.

A warm feeling twisted up your right arm and you looked down to see your and Zach’s fingers intertwined. ‘How long have we been like that?’ You asked yourself, a blush creeping up your neck. ‘Since the presentation started?’ But still, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t hate the feeling.

Hands still intertwined, you, Zach and Gray walked back into the central area of the park.

“According to this, the triceratopses are… this… way…? Why are you guys holding hands?”

‘CrAp.’ You quickly brought your hand back, wiping it on your pants, a blush rising up to your cheeks.

“We were almost separated in the crowd,” Zach said with a shrug. “We didn’t want to get separated.”

“Right… well, the triceratops enclosure is that way, so…”

The three of you began to walk and you quickly pulled Zach to the side. “What the hell are you playing at?”

“What are you talking about?” the boy raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing at his lips.

“You hate me one second and then you’re holding my hand the next! I’m not a toy, okay? You can’t just play with my feeling and think that it’s fine to do that!”

“I…”

“Look. I’m hungry. I want food and I never said that I would tag along to see the triceratops. So, I’m just going to go. Besides… I want to check out the gift store afterwards.” You offered a small smile. “Tell Gray, I said bye, okay?”

“(Y/N)-”

“I have to go. I’ll see you later… at school, or something.”

***                                                                                                                                                                                                

“Attention all park visitors. Please make your way to the central area of the park. For your safety, please act calm.”

That was the first warning that something went wrong at the park. The second thing was the fact that the gyrospheres closed more than 2 hours early. The third warning was that Zach and Gray were nowhere to be found and Zach wasn’t picking up his phone. Not that you expected him too after you spoke to him like that. But, ooh no, that’s not the last thing. Pterosaurs were swooping down from the sky and taking grown men into the sky. But that was the least of your problems. Right now, you had just narrowly escaped an incoming pterosaur and you were taking shelter in the gift shop. Talk about some relaxing holiday, am I right?

At that moment, you heard three very loud gunshots. Turning your head to the direction of the shelves, you could’ve sworn that one of the managers and one of the dinosaur trainers were kissing. You were just about to walk up to them when you saw him. Zach Mitchell.

Before you could walk out of the gift shop, a pterosaur dive-bombed you, knocking you into a shelf stacked with stuffed toys. A deafening screech filled your ears and you grabbed the nearest thing next to you, (a broken piece of a shelf), and stabbed the pterosaurs delicate wings. If there was one thing that ‘How to Train Your Dragon’ taught you, it was to destroy the flying animal’s wings. No wings, no escape.

The pterosaur screamed in pain, but that was all you heard before it was thrown off you by a very tall man and being shot by a woman. No freaking way.

“You good?” the man asked, lifting you up by a hand.

“I just got attacked by a fricken’ dinosaur. OF COURSE I’M NOT GOOD.”

“Woah, what’s going- (Y/N)?!” Oh. Oh, dear.

“Hi, Zach,” you managed meekly, giving a small weak chuckle. “How’s life?”

“You know each other?” The woman asked, flicking some of her straight red hair off her shoulder.

“Oh, yeah. And I have a lot of explaining to do.”

“Damn right, you do,” You snapped, pushing yourself up from the floor, holding onto your bloodied arm. “You go through more mood swings than me!”

***

Claire, Zach’s aunt, took the three of you into a… safer place to rest and calm down. Well, technically, a room with four velociraptors wasn’t exactly safe, especially everything that has happened the past 24 hours. You and Zach took a seat on one of the metal benches, you cradling your bandaged arm and him about to explain.

“I just wanted to say that the explanation is going to be really cheesy,” he said, scratching the back of his neck.

“Trust me; I’ve been through a lot worse. So please,” you rolled your eyes, cradling your injured arm, “do tell.”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Gray interrupted them both before they started to argue again, “just kiss already,” he said as he turned his face away so they couldn’t see him, in the state he was in. He couldn’t handle anymore fighting, any more deaths or any more dinosaurs. He just wanted his parents, he wanted his home, and he wanted to feel safe in somebody’s arms. Sure, he had his brother, but Gray didn’t want to bother him. After all, Zach was dealing with some pretty intense expectations from his not-so-nice ex, Gray felt like nothing more than a burden.

Your head snapped towards the younger boy, who looked so helpless as he sat on the bench, arms wrapped around him. He was shivering- from the cold or from the fear, even he didn’t know. Taking a few careful steps, you sat next to him, wrapping a reassuring arm over his shoulder.

“We’ll be okay. You’ll see. Owen and Aunt Claire will figure things out and you can go back to your parents when this is all over.” You said softly.

“But I want my parents now!” Gray huffed, not caring that he was acting like a five-year-old brat.

“I know. I want to see my parents too, but right now, we need to have faith in the raptors.”

“(Y/N)’s right,” Zach said softly. We’ll get through this. I swear.”

Gray sniffed but nodded, wiping his tears away with the cuff of his sleeve. “Okay…”

“Everything is going to turn out great,” you said, offering him a tissue. “You’ll see.”

Claire and Owen escorted the three of you into a truck as the Raptors were released. “You’ll be safer here,” Owen said. “Claire is at the front if you need anything. Water is under the bench seats, here are some blankets, now I have to go save the world.”

“Gee,” you rolled your eyes. “thanks.”

***    

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!” You demanded from the back of the truck as Claire made a sharp turn to the right. The back doors of the truck swung open, revealing two raptors.

“CLOSE THE FREAKING DOORS!”

“I CAN’T!”

“THEN DO SOMETHING!”

Thinking fast, Zach grabbed a hydrogen tank off the wall and pushing it off the edge of the truck. Charlie and Echo swiftly dodge to the sides, hissing and growling menacingly. Charlie ran ahead, only to be pushed to the side by Claire. Echo screeched, running to claim more victims.

Gray eyed the shockers on the side of the truck’s wall, prying it off its holder. Meanwhile, Echo came closer and closer to the truck.

“Turn it on!” You yelled, fiddling with the handle.

“I don’t know how!” Zach yelled back.

While they tried to get the shocker to work, Echo leapt onto the truck, clawing at the metal floor. You let out an ear piercing scream, just as Gray pushed a random button, a blue ball of electricity glowing at its end. Letting out a cry, the boy poked Echo with the electricity, the dinosaur flying off the truck. You lunged forward, grabbing hold of the back doors of the truck and forcing them closed.

“Are you guys okay?!” Claire asked from the driver’s seat.

“Hey, did you see that?” Zach grinned, leaning on the metal wall. A small smile graced your features as you felt his hand tighten around your waist.

“I can’t wait to tell mom!” Gray exclaimed, looking into the window.

“Oh, please, no, do not tell your mother about that, ever,” Claire managed breathlessly.

Gray smirked at you, ‘I am so telling her,’ he mouthed.

You laughed, “You do that.”

***    

You waited impatiently on a bench, tapping your leg. It would be a while until your parents make it to Isla Nebular, and you really wanted them to hurry up.

“You okay?” Zach asked softly, stroking your arm softly.

“I… guess. I’m still a little freaked out.” You let out a humourless laugh. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’m really sorry, (Y/N),” he murmured, looking anywhere but you. “Everything I said, everything I did. I just…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “Never mind.”

“No, tell me,” you liked where this was going. “What’s on your mind?”

“There’s a reason why I was so mean to you.”

“And that is…?”

“I like you okay!” He threw his arms in the air letting out a sigh. “I thought that maybe I could get your attention. Look, I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking straight. I just really like you and I thought that maybe-”

You swiftly cut him off, by pressing your lips against his. “Wanna get ice-cream after school?”

“Definitely.”

#zach mitchell #zach mitchell x reader #gray mitchell #owen grady #claire #raptors #jurassic world #jurassic park #zack mitchell #zack mitchell x reader #dinosaurs #cute #fluff #reader insert #x reader

[midzelink]

"#listen i know exactly how these two meet and how they start dating and it's beautiful and i LOVE THEM" Please tell me everything!

(( in reference to the tags I made on this Ilia x Ashei art ))

HOO, BOY, OKAY - where to begin?  A lot of this is going to be stuff that I didn’t really want to make a post about, because my hopes were that I would eventually write their meeting and eventual dating into a multi-chapter fic of sorts (called “Love & Horses,” and there’s good reason for that, I swear), but I struggle with writing enough as-is, and by the time I do (if ever) get around to it, this post will absolutely be lost to time - so, what the heck!  Lemme gush a little bit.  Some of this I’ve already written about in the description of this wedding piece I had commissioned, but I’ll expand on it a bit here. (Also, shoutout to @therealflurrin for inspiring a lot of this - we somehow fell in love with these two independently of one another, which just goes to show how much potential these two have. Spread the Iliashei love!)

So, what’s important to understand about Ashei (and this is all just my headcanon, of course) going into this is that she was raised alone by her father in the Hebra Mountains, with very sparse and sporadic human contact outside of him.  As she says in-game, he was a “knight in his own right,” and he “taught [her] the arts of war as though [she] was his son” - he taught her how to wield a sword, but unfortunately for her, that was pretty much all he taught her.  He was a troubled man haunted by the ghosts of his past, perhaps, but he was a terrible father, and when Ashei was only fifteen years old she bested him in battle and ran away from home. She was on her own for quite some time, surviving in the harsh wilderness of the frozen wilds, but she did so aimlessly; all she had was her sword, and with nowhere else to turn, she eventually found her way to Hyrule proper, choosing to enlist as a knight solely because she would have a roof over her head and some money in her pocket.  She was only sixteen at the time - she lied and told them she was twenty - and when she bested every captain in the entire royal guard in a single evening, they agreed to take her in.

Another important thing to note is that Ashei’s arrival in Castle Town (and one particular encounter with Princess Zelda herself, but that’s a story for another time) awakens The Gay within her; she’s never really been around so many people before, let alone women her own age.  This has some interesting side effects, namely that Ashei has no idea how to talk to or behave around women, and it plays into the first time she and Ilia (improperly) meet.

So, picture this: a short time after the events of the game, Ilia travels back to Castle Town to visit Telma, whom she bonded following her kidnapping and memory loss.  Ashei is sitting in the bar, sipping on some ale, and she hears someone come in and begin chatting; she thinks nothing of it, of course, until she takes a quick little peak -

- and sees the most drop-dead gorgeous person she has ever seen in her entire life.

She panics.  Face goes completely red, she hides her face in her hand, nearly drops her ale.  Her fight her flight instincts kick in, and she chooses flight, rushing out of the bar before the girl can even notice her, let alone speak to her - and though it’s a few days before she can get the image of her out of her head, eventually things go back to normal, and Ashei finds comfort in the fact that she’ll probably never see that mystery girl again.

Except, y’know - she does.  Because of course she does.

Fast forward a bit, Hyrule Castle is a still a mess of being rebuilt, and the people need something to keep their spirits up - so Zelda is like, f**k it!  Dance time!  An outdoor ball, in the afterglow of twilight, with food and live music and all what have you.  Ashei attends in a full set of royal armor, complete with helm and all the fixings, as she’s only there on guard duty, but just as soon she thinks the night is going to end without incident, who do you think she sees sitting all alone, and does she looks slightly sad or is that a trick of the light, and oh my gods that dress is lovely, was it handmade, did she make it, and what are the chances she would see her again -

Ashei is still quite flustered, of course - only this time it’s different, because here, she isn’t herself.  Here, she’s just a nameless solider among many - she could be anybody - and somehow, someway, she musters up her courage to approach the young woman…and offers her hand in dance.

And I think now would be a good time to talk about Ilia’s side of things; we know a lot more about her story, of course, but it’d probably be good to mention that, yes, she did love Link - and perhaps, once upon a time, he could have loved her, too, but after everything that happened, he was unable to readjust to life back in Ordon, and as we see in the final credits, he leaves, in a scene that tells us almost certainly that he only said goodbye to her.  Ilia goes through quite a lot both during the game and in the months after; romance aside, Link has always been her closest friend, and suddenly he’s so distant from her.  It’s difficult to handle, and as she watches him leave after a few months of struggling with this, with no idea of when or if he’ll return, I guess you could say that she fell out of love out of necessity; he was, and always will be, a very dear friend to her, but the weight of what had happened to both of them had changed them, and their relationship would never be exactly the same as it once was.  It pains her - but she accepts it, and moves on.

So, Link is AWOL for a while, yeah?  Ilia has a lot going through her mind, and like Ashei did before she found a good friend in Shad and a makeshift home in the Resistance, she feels aimless.  On top of that, she’s still dealing with the trauma that being kidnapped had saddled her with, and what sticks with her the most is how helpless she felt waiting for someone else to save her.  Then wouldn’t you know, one day she gets a letter from Telma inviting her to festivities to be held in Castle Town, and Ilia makes up her mind about something.  She packs up her things…and sets off.

The night of the festival, Ilia does take the hand of that mysterious stranger - and as they dance it’s wonderful and magical and lovely and for a time she forgets all of her troubles, but before she can see their face or even learn their name they’re gone, leaving her wanting and curious.  Some time passes, and the festivities come to and end; Ilia makes for Telma’s Bar, where Shad, Ashei, and Auru are unwinding from the night’s events.  Telma introduces the younger woman to the gang, and Ashei almost begins to panic, before she realizes that Ilia would have no way of recognizing her, that Telma was just introducing them to a friend, that this would pass and be done with in no time at all, but then -

“I want to join the Resistance!”

And Ashei is just like,

Ah.

Ah, shit.

This post is getting rather long, so I’m gonna try to wrap things up here - but as you can imagine, hijinks ensue!  Things reach a climax when Ilia insists that Ashei teach her how to fight, and Ashei lashes out and flat-out refuses in a burst of anger, which triggers an episode of “oh my god am I turning into my father oh f**k no” and sends her running, truly panicking this time; Ilia runs after her, of course, and when she finally finds her they get to talking.  Ilia tells her that whatever it is that’s bothering her, she doesn’t have to open up about it now, or tomorrow, or any time soon, but if she ever wants to, she will be there to listen - and then Ilia opens up, about why she joined the Resistance, about her kidnapping and her scars and the horror she’s endured.  She chooses to be vulnerable where Ashei cannot, and then suddenly the mood is lighter, and Ashei is sheepishly admitting that she couldn’t teach her how to fight because she likes her too much, gods be damned, and Ilia is joking about how she never knew she liked girls till now because there were none her age growing up in Ordon, and Ilia thought Ashei liked Shad and Ashei thought Ilia liked Link, except Shad doesn’t like women and Ashei doesn’t like men and Link has been gone for months now, and oh, aren’t they both so stupid - and then they hear music, and Ilia stands and offers Ashei her hand, and in that moment both of them know, y’know?  Ashei still has a lot of stuff she’s got to work through, and it’s not going to be easy by any means, but for now, she can do this much - so she takes Ilia’s hand and the two of them dance into the night, pushing aside their worries till morning’s light.

Do the two of them start dating pretty much immediately?  Yes.  Do they love one another completely and utterly?  Absolutely.  Do they get married and is their wedding super, duper gay?  You bet your ass it is.

There’s a lot more to this that I won’t get into here, including Link’s eventual return (after three years of being away!) and the aftermath of that, and the exact specifics of Ashei’s troubled history with her father and how being with Ilia helps her to heal from it.  On the plus side, Bo becomes like the father that Ashei never had, and fun fact: the two like the arm wrestle!  Like, a lot!  (And Ashei sometimes lets him win.)

#twilight princess #loz tp #loz #iliashei #ashei #also thanks for asking! #getting this outta my system was really therapeutic! #anonymous #asks #my asks #ilia #bezu #headcanons #stupid post tag #myposts*

[woozletania]

Sanctuary, part 5 (RR/Lylla)

Rocket has a nasty little secret he doesn’t want to tell Lylla.  Turns out the opposite is true, too.

*****

Rocket’s afternoon did not go well.  Ever since she came on board, he’d been…confused.  Rocket didn’t like being confused.  Sure, his behavior might look aimless sometimes, to people who didn’t know that tinkering with things relaxed him.  He had his little routines, like counting all the spare  equipment twice a day.  Making sure there were enough space suits, aerorigs, enough ammo, traps and bombs for any conceivable eventuality, and repairing them or making more. Things to keep his hands busy so he didn’t have to think about life or how much it generally sucked.  Comforting little things lately interrupted by a curious girl-otter just as was happening now.

He instinctively bristled as she came up behind him, her long whiskers tickling his ear as she looked over his shoulder. His clawed hands paused, the Aerorig in one and a fuel capsule in the other.  He flinched as a whisker tickled and his ear and Lylla giggled, but she must have seen he was uncomfortable because she padded around in front of him and sat down to look at the assortment of tools.

“So that’s what they look like inside,” she said, her little chirpy voice as annoying as it’d been the last time.

No, Rocket told himself.  I’m not going to snap at her. She doesn’t know she’s annoying me. And she wouldn’t be if I hadn’t been trying to avoid talking her her at all.

“Part of it,” he said gruffly.  “Most of an Aerorig is mass-displaced until it’s needed.  Hidden in an adjacent dimension.  Y'know, like Pete’s helmet is normally just that stupid thing he wears under his ear.  I can refuel them without unpacking them, so to speak. Designed ‘em that way.”

“You built this?”  Her webbed fingers with their cute (and sharp) claws touched the line of parts he’d removed to get at the capsule and Rocket flinched again.  “Oh!  Sorry, Rocket.  I know you like things orderly.”

He watched as she carefully rearranged the parts, getting them almost, but not quite, back into the array he’d set out as he took it apart. Without thinking, without being able to stop himself if he was honest, he reached out and straightened one that was a few degrees out of line.

“It just makes it easier to put back together, y'know?  It may look like my stuff is lyin’ around at random, but it isn’t.  I know where everything is. I can do this blindfolded, and that’s not bluffin’.”

She looked him over, those deep brown eyes so like his own, that sad little smile.  So much like Mantis, really.  It was as though she were staring past the fur and claws and mangled little body they’d made, past the cybernetics and the scars, and into Rocket himself. Into the shriveled little soul that he kept attached to his body with habits like this.  Neatness.  Tidiness.  No vulnerability.  Just order, and toughness and sometimes, lately anyway, a little bit of friendship.

“What? Whatcha staring at me for?”

“Sorry, Rocket.  I’ll stop bothering you.”  She came up onto all fours, more comfortable that way with her short little limbs, and scuttled off towards the galley.  He could hear them welcome her to what sounded like a card game in progress, Drax’s booming voice, Mantis’s piping one.  He could even hear someone, maybe Gamora from the sound of it, scratch her behind her ears and the churr of pleasure that resulted.

But his Aerorig parts were still out of order.  Rocket snapped the capsule in, checked the fuel feed with a scanner, and began to reassemble it. This part here, and this part here.

“I am Groot,” said the little tree in the corner.

“I’m not bein’ antisocial.  Not any more than usual anyway.”  This part here, click, turn the fastener a quarter turn.

Groot scooted closer on what served the tree as a butt, and watched intently as Rocket finished reassembling the Aerorig.  He set it neatly to his left and picked up the next one from the pile on the right.  Turn the fastener a quarter turn, cover plate hinges off like so.  Rocket removed the innards a part at a time, arranging them in front of him in a neat little array.  Groot, even three-foot-tall young Groot, knew not to touch anything. “I am Groot.”

“I do talk to her.  I was just talkin’ to her, okay?”

“I am Groot?”

“Of course I like her.  Everyone likes her.”  Rocket muttered the next sentence under his breath.  “She was made to be liked.”  He went on at normal volume.  “We just talked about this earlier, okay?  We just went over this.”

“I am Groot.”

“Yes we did.  When I was workin’ in the access shaft.”

Groot just regarded him silently for a moment. Rocket glanced up, and even on a wooden face he saw…guilt?  “What?  What’re you lookin’ sorry for yourself for?”

“I am Groot.”

“Okay, it’s nothin’.  It’s all nothin’, okay?  Now let me work.”

Trying not to think about things was a full-time job but Rocket was very good at it.  He’d had lots of practice not thinking about things. When Pete showed up an hour later and turned up the volume on his media player he knew what was coming.  Pete was going to make him talk about it again.

“Have you told her?”

Rocket gritted his teeth and snapped two parts together with a lot more force than was really necessary.  “Get off my back, Pete.  I’m thinkin’ about it, okay?”

“If you don’t tell him the doctor will and then she’ll find out you already knew, man.”

“I know!”  Rocket slammed a logic probe onto the deck so hard that Mantis heard it even over the music and peered quizzically around the corner.  He lowered his voice until Peter had to lean in to hear him. “She doesn’t want to be a weapon, Pete. I don’t want to remind her that they didn’t make her just to be a diplomat, a linguist.  I don’t want to remind her that she was made at all.”

“It’s not your fault, Rocket.  Or hers. But you gotta tell her.”

“I will, okay?  Just stop bringing it up, she’s gonna hear if we keep talking about it.”

But he didn’t tell her.  Rocket was very good at not thinking about things.  He managed to keep busy working on a dozen little projects and not talking to Lylla until he was so tired he just curled up in his little round bed. Lylla was already asleep in her bed, the one he’d made her that lay within arm’s reach of his.  He was so tired he fell asleep before remembering that he was supposed to talk to her.  Rocket was, after all, very good at not thinking about things. He could even not think about multiple things at once, like how much he liked smelling her so close to him.

But his subconscious wasn’t so good at forgetting.  It’d been weeks since his last bad dream, and tonight’s was very bad.  Strapped to the operating table, the smell of antiseptics, the sharp, sharp knives sliding coolly through his flesh, the dull lifeless eyes of the surgeon as he asked the nerve tech to please shut him up, the screaming makes it hard to operate.

And this time, a new addition: Lylla, a table over, screaming as they cut her open over and over.

“No, no, no,” Rocket whined in his sleep, and his claws dug into the fabric of the bed as he tried to rip loose from the restraints. “No,” as he shuddered, every muscle locked, trying to get free and kill the men he’d already killed once, all except Paul, staring sadly from the sidelines, unable to sneak him painkillers this time. Paul didn’t need to die, but the others did, before they hurt him again, before they hurt her again…

Something interrupted the dream.  A warm, comforting presence.  Strong arms hugging him from behind, and something - sharp teeth? - gently grooming his nape.

Rocket came awake.  It was Lylla, who’d crawled from her bed into his to comfort him, just as he’d done with her when her nightmare hit a few days ago.  She was spooned up against him from behind, her warm body pressed against his own, her webby hands gripping him until he stopped shaking.

“It’s all right, Rocket,” she whispered into his ear.  “They aren’t here.  They can’t hurt you any more.”

The last time someone said that to him, It’s all right, Rocket, he’d broken down sobbing.  He wasn’t quite there yet, but she could feel the tension. And like the purpose-built diplomat she was, she sensed why it was there.

“Rocket,” she said into his ear, and gently groomed his nape for a moment.  It brought back old, old memories, from before the Uplift, of warm fur and safety.  From someone he didn’t remember well, because they’d taken him from his mother when he was no bigger than a man’s hand. And he only knew that because he’d heard dead men talk about it before he killed them. For a moment he shuddered, not sure whether to know comfort or hate for the men that took that away from him, and she went on.

“Rocket, I know there’s something you’re afraid to tell me,” she whispered into his ear.  “Because you’re afraid it will hurt me, right?  So I’ll make you a deal.  I’ll tell you something I don’t want you to know, and then you can do the same.”

She gripped him as he shivered, until he relaxed, at least a little. “All right.”

“When you pulled me from the cage, after you killed the guards, and I bit you…”

“You were scared to death,” Rocket said.  “It wasn’t your fault.  I was in a hurry, and when you’re in a hurry you take chances, make mistakes.”

“When I bit you,” she went on, and he sensed that she had to say this.  She didn’t want to, but she had to.  “My assassination programming, that tells me where to bite, I bit you and I felt the blood trying to come out.  I bit you in the artery under your ear and I knew I had killed you. All I had to do was leap away and let you die.”

“You didn’t,” Rocket said.  “You were so scared you held on and kept the bite going until we got out.”

“I knew I had killed you,” she went on remorselessly, “But I didn’t know the way out and there was all the gas.  Eventually it would get me too, even though I’m resistant, and as I held on and bit you I realized I had made a mistake.  Maybe you knew the way out.  So instead of jumping away I held on, and I kept the bite to keep you from bleeding to death because I thought maybe if I did you’d get me out before, before you died.”

She was shaking.  She was crying. Rocket didn’t know what to do.  He’d never had someone cry on him before.  It’d always been him crying, when his shell cracked and his weakness came out for all to see.

Except Pete.  He’d seen Pete cry too.  And crying wasn’t always bad, he’d learned.  Sometimes it just had to come out, and you’d feel better later.  So confused but understanding what she was going through he twisted in her grip, and for the first time he was the one to hug someone, to comfort them, to try to make them feel better.

“It’s all right,” he said softly, and held her tight.  “You were scared.  You were desperate.  It’s not your fault.”

And finally, when she’d cried herself out and they were snuggled together in the bed, he told her.

“It’s stupid,” he muttered.  “I should have just told you.  You already know they built in a killing technique when they Uplifted you.  You already know you don’t want to use it.  And you don’t have to.  You don’t have to do what they wanted.”

Lylla nodded, and waited for him to go on.

“I was going over your scans earlier,” he said. “You know I said there was some stuff I didn’t understand.  I’m an expert on machinery, but only when I can get at it.  I’m not so good with implants.  I’m okay, mind you,” he said as his pride bubbled up, but she just smiled and he went on.

“There’s a layer under your pelt,” he said, and stroked her soft chestfur. For a moment he paused.  Had he ever touched someone so gently before?  If so, he couldn’t remember.  “I don’t know what it does. Doc Foster will know.  But the main thing is this.”

He touched her cheek on either side, far back, where the hinges of her lower jaw lay.  “There are servos here that increase your bite force.  You already know that. But here,” he touched her a little higher, below her little furry ear, “There are implanted glands. I’m not a hundred percent sure, and I think they aren’t active right now, but I don’t see anything they could be but venom glands.”

“Venom,” Lylla whispered.  

“Poison,” Rocket said.  “So that you only have to bite someone once, no matter how big and tough they are.  Then you can run and they’ll die when you are away, when you are safe. So they don’t put all that time and effort to make someone who can only kill one person before she is caught.”

“That’s what Gamora said,” Lylla whispered.  “She wondered why they’d put all that work into diplomacy and linguistics if I was just going to be a one-use assassin.”

“You don’t seem upset,” Rocket said wonderingly.

She actually smiled.  “Rocket, they made you to be a weapon.  But you aren’t always a weapon.  You have friends, you like to tinker.  You don’t just kill everyone you see.  You kill when you need to. All those skills the gave you to kill people, you use when you think the time is right.  You are more than what they meant you to be, Rocket.  So am I.  Even if the glands are poison, they had to have made it so I could control it, right?  Or I could just have them removed.  It’s no big deal.”

“I can’t believe you’re so…so calm,” Rocket breathed.  “How did you go through all that and not end up like me?”

“Rocket,” Lylla said, and nibbled at his neck below the ear, right where she’d bitten him before.  “There’s nothing wrong with being like you. I like you just the way you are.”

No one had ever said that to him, not ever, and Rocket relaxed at last. There was just the warm comfort of the two of the snuggled up together in the same bed and the slow descent into sleep, and no nightmares.  And when Peter happened by in the hall a little later, and saw by the night-light the two of them curled up together sleeping, he smiled and tiptoed away.

#rocket raccoon #lylla otter #guardians of the galaxy

[smokinracer-blog]

Cafe Grumps

((I said I was gonna do it.  Here’s the drabble of Nil and Monitor’s first meet, because since this friendship is now canon (very canon), I might as well give it a proper introduction.  This drabble occurs early December of 2016))

This certainly wasn’t Nil’s first venture into the realm of toons, although she still felt she needed more time to get into the swing of film-jumping.  Being a video game sprite, she was admittedly self-conscious it would be obvious she didn’t belong.  The spider-virus was also aware she was slightly more vulnerable than she would be if she stuck to the world of code -- as the rules governing the new lands she visited were much more strictly set in place.  There were no one’s or zero’s to move around that would make things go her way.  But Nil wasn’t out for conquest, at least not yet.

Nil enjoyed observing these untouched lands.  This is why she chose to visit a very isolated video cassette.  The VHS player was plugged into a wall, allowing her access to it, and contained within were recordings of a handful of Saturday morning cartoons.  She was drawn to a section containing the Beetlejuice cartoon, feeling a land of dead people would be exactly her style.

After a while of aimless wandering, including several instances of dodging the local yokels as they cavorted about, Nil found herself in what looked to be a business district of sorts.  She entered a small cafe that seemed quiet, at least in comparison to everything so far.  She spent a fair amount of time observing, ordering several coffee’s over the course of a couple hours.  It was mid-afternoon and business was slow.  A few monsters sat at a table and one appeared to be a skeleton with a film camera for a head.  Nil squinted at it before she was distracted by the tingling of the front entrance.

A cold wind blew in from outside as a disgruntled-looking ghoul let himself into the cafe.  He was decently large, especially compared to Nil’s less-than-staggering height of just slightly over four feet.  The most identifiable feature of this ghoul were the four television screens that served as his heads.  Nil recognized the character from the couple dozen or so episodes she’d watched of the cartoon.  This was Mr. Monitor, an on-and-off antagonist that worked at some in-world television network.  Nil turned to look out a far window and, through the snow flurry outside, she could barely see the Network building towering in the distance.

“Shouldn’t you be over there, tube-head?” she muttered to herself.

Nil’s attention was taken by her phone, which buzzed, alerting her of a text.  It was from someone designated “Cobra Commander”, and she rolled her eyes upon reading the text.

“Mind your own business, Turbrat.  I don’t bother you when you’re having personal time,” she sneered, tapping the keypad with her pointed nails.

After she was finished replying to her virus acquaintance, she turned her attention back over to the ghoul, who by then was waiting in the pick-up line, tapping his foot impatiently.

“Yeah.  You’ll do,” Nil purred musingly to herself.

“This is my only lunch break.  Do they know who I am?” the ghoul breathed.

The teenaged workers behind the counter clearly were not being paid enough to acknowledge his scolding comment.  Mr. Monitor just frowned and put a hand on his hip.  Not long after, he was aware of the presence behind him.  He was not too important to ignore the grey-skinned woman when he was addressed.

“Hey big guy, do ya’ think this can hold you over?” Nil said, holding one of the paper coffee cups in her hand closer to him, “I ordered, like, three.  You can have one.”

Briefly, Monitor flicked his eyes in the direction of the cafe workers, who were taking their sweet ass time.

“You look like you could use it.  I didn’t spit in it or nothing.”

He sighed deeply before brushing off some snow that was still accumulated on his suit and turning to face her.  The frowns he wore lessened, although they still dominated his expression.  Nil smirked just ever so slightly as the cup was taken from her hand.  They turned toward the counter, taking a sip from their respective drinks almost in unison.

“How much do I owe you for it?” Monitor questioned in a droll tone, rooting into his pocket for his wallet.

“Don’t worry about it.  Pretty sure I can afford the loss,” Nil responded.

“Minotaur?” interrupted the teen behind the desk.

“Monitor!  You boob.”

“Whatever.”

Monitor curled his lip and glared down.  The stoic employee presented him with a large cup of black coffee and some kind of a sandwich in a paper wrapper.  After paying for his lunch, he turned around to find the grey-skinned woman still standing where she had been.

“You’re still here?” he snorted.

“Well yeah.  Do you wanna go sit at that corner table over there, big guy?  I’d hate to watch you have to eat your lunch all by yourself.”

Tilting his heads up in the direction of the indicated seat, Monitor paused for a moment before starting to walk.  Nil followed behind him, observing his movements with interest.

“Do you happen to know who I am?” asked the ghoul as he sat down.

“You’re that Mr. Monitor guy who does… some kinda job over at the TV station,” Nil responded, hand-waving her lack of knowing his title proper.

He didn’t seem pleased by the response, “The Neitherworld Network is so much more than a singular television station; we are the largest distributor of programming in all the Neitherworld.  And I am one of the highest-ranking ghouls working there.”

“Oh really,” Nil responded, smiling coyly, “How high-ranking?”

Monitor glowered and focused his attention on unwrapping his sandwich.

“Hey.  Come on, mister grumpy tubes,” she said laughing slightly, “It’s okay.  You can tell.  I used to sorta work in entertainment myself you know.”

He lifted his heads after having taken a bite of his sandwich.  One of his mouths chewed whilst the other three spoke: Nil found this slightly distracting.

“Is that so?” he swallowed and continued, “Very well.  I’ll have you know, I’m second in line to the throne.  Hah hah.  I’m very close with the Head of the Network.”

“Hm.  You too, huh?” Nil responded, putting her cheek in her palm.

“Me too?  Me too what?”

“Second place?  I’ve kinda always been stuck as number two back where I used to work,” she said.

“Oh,” he said, lifting his eyebrows, before shrinking in his seat, “Actually… you miscount.  I’m number three.  Ah -- the chain of command is: the Head of the Network, his Special Assistant, and then myself.  Ah hah hah.  That’s what it is on a good day, anyway.”

Mr. Monitor resumed eating as a way to avoid any further discussion of the subject.  Nil folded her hands on top of the table and waited.  Between his four mouths, it didn’t take long before the sandwich had vanished.  It was as he was cleaning his faces that he noticed the woman hadn’t bothered him further.  She must have realized he wasn’t comfortable talking about his current standing within the Network.  Given that a usual day for him consisted of humiliation and panic, he appreciated her supposed sensitivity.

“How rude of me,” he chortled suddenly, “I’ve never asked your name, dear.”

“Nil,” she said.

“Don’t you have a last name?” he asked.

“Don’t you have a first name?” she replied, smirking.

“Fair enough,” Mr. Monitor said before reaching his hand over the table.

Nil hesitated before extending her arm out.  Though his hand was almost comically large compared to her’s, he somehow managed not to hurt her: although his grip was freezing.  A pain-free handshake was a decent way to start a partnership, she thought.

“You said you worked in entertainment as well?” Monitor purred.

She slid her talon away from his massive paw.

“Used to,” Nil uttered, “Guess you could say I was sorta an actor?  But, fuck, I was never the starring role.  Know what I mean?  I think you do.  Anyway, my career was sorta ruined.  My, um, ‘show’ was, uh, ‘canceled’.  Follow?”

“I am not sure that I do,” Monitor said, before leaning in closer, “No.  You’re a warm-blood.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, static-breath?”

Monitor smiled, moving back, explaining, “Nothing bad.  Necessarily.  You’re alive is what I meant.  You have a pulse.  You expel oxygen.”

“You figure that how?  I feel pretty damn dead most the time,” Nil snorted.

“Your hand.  It was warm,” he stated, “Although you’re strange.  In appearance you could pass as dead.”

“Pardon?”

“A complement, Miss Nil.  A complement.  Hah hah,” he cleared his throats and continued, “Are you, perhaps, not from here?”

Nil was silent.  She was silent long enough for both of them to take an awkward sip of their coffees.  At last, Nil shrugged, putting her hands up.

“You got me, big guy,” she said, “Is it that obvious?”

“Hm.  Well, you don't strike me as an ordinary -- whatever you are.  I have a strange feeling in my gut,” Monitor made an attempt to explain.

“Oh I see.”

It was becoming clear that her virus infection could be picked up even when she was so far away from the digital world.  Her head sunk more heavily into her palm as she realized she could likely never blend into a crowd again.  She didn't want to cause the old ghoul trouble, so she looked away just as he started to tilt his heads in confusion.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“Ohh ho ho ho, no!” Monitor projected, “Don't flatter yourself.  You aren't nearly the most nauseating individual I come across on a daily basis!  Not even remotely close, madam!”

Nil looked at him.  He was leaning back in the seat, one of his fists balled on the table, his eyes focused beyond her.

“You’re not like-- like, Beetlejuice!”

She opened her mouth but the TV was intent on continuing on.

“Obnoxious nuisance!  I'm expected to work with him, like some sort of cruel joke.  It isn't even like I can fire him.  I tried once.  Apparently, the show simply cannot go on without that annoying buffoon.  Why, I'm about through putting up with him.  But there's--”

“Nothing you can do?” Nil spoke over him.

Monitor put his elbows on the table and massaged his side panels.

“Yes.”

“Sounds like a shitty time.”

“You have no idea,” he whined, “My poor transistors.  Oh, my heads hurt just thinking about him.”

“Yeah.  I get ya.  Not fun.  Hey, big guy, I had an obnoxious friend when I was working in entertainment too.  Actually, he was the guy who ruined my life.”

“Mm,” he grumbled.

“He pesters me to this day too,” Nil added.

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Monitor said, closing his eyes.

Nil continued to watch him even though it seemed like he checked out.  He ran his hand across his faces.  Suddenly, his spine straightened.  He pulled up one of his sleeves to reveal something around his wrist.  Rather than having a watch, there was a cartoony looking chart, displaying something in real time.  Mr. Monitor stared at it nervously.

“Oh.  Your ratings, right?” Nil said.

“Ah.  Hah hah.  Correct.  Oh, I don't like this,” he whimpered.

Nil was at his side in a moment, looking at the thing on his wrist.  She squinted at it.

“So what's the problem?” she asked.

“They're going down.  The ratings are going down!”

Nil was silent for a moment longer, before saying:

“That chart doesn't look like it moved to me.”

“Hush!  I'm the professional!” he snapped.

“You're a looney.”

His eyes started to dart around the cafe as he hissed, “Enough.  I have to amend this.  I must -- I must-- oh.  What'll I do?  The Network depends on me.  I'll fire my PA!  Yes.  I'll fire--”

“Woah, woah, big guy!” Nil interjected, grabbing his sleeve as he started to stand.

Mr. Monitor yowled, feeling his arm pulled.  Nil immediately let him go seeing his dramatic reaction.  He glared and sank back into his seat.

“Don't grab me,” he growled.

“You don't like that,” she said.

“No.”

“I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have grabbed you,” Nil murmured, turning her head away, “Fuck.  I of all people should've known better.”

The ghoul began to move his gaze back toward his chart, wheezing nervously.  He resumed his rant under his breath for a moment before Nil interrupted:

“Easy.  Easy.  I was just trying to get you to calm down.  Don't wanna burn yourself out, right?”

“But I--”

“Calm down.”

He didn’t seem like he was listening.  Stubbornly, he went to stare at the chart again.  It was then that Nil began to get the impression she was fighting an uphill battle.

“Are you okay if I touch you now?” Nil asked, not wanting him to freak out again.

“Go ahead,” Monitor responded, agitation in his voice.

Reluctantly, she put her hands on one of his arms.  This time, he barely seemed to notice.  She scooted in a bit, trying to get between his line of sight and his chart.

“Hey.  Look at me,” she said, waited for a moment and then added, “All of your eyes please.”

Each of his faces turned toward her, sporting rather frazzled expressions.  She patted the arm she’d been holding.

“You’re okay.  I’d hate to watch you have a conniption.”

“Hah hah.  I’m surprised it matters that much to you,” he breathed, “You’re, hah hah, worried about me?”

“Yeah buddy.  You sorta were just having a breakdown.”

“Ohh.  Don’t bother.  I’m well acclimated to the stress, Miss Nil.  Now.  Ahem...”

Mr. Monitor looked down at the arm her claws were laying on.  After she brought her hands back, he rose from his seat.  Nil mimicked him.

“I really do need to start heading back to the Network.  I am a very busy man.”

They both turned toward the cafe window at once.  The snow flurry had grown thicker.  The cold wind could be heard from outside.  Curiously, Nil observed the ghoul’s response.  He looked unhappy, pocketed his hands and let his heads sink back into the collar of his suit.

“You’ll catch your death out there,” Nil said.

“If that’s a joke…  Hmph,” Monitor grumbled.

“You game for me walking you back to work?” she offered.

“Can I not be rid of you?  Very well.  Let’s proceed, shall we?”

Moments later, the tingling of the bells at the door sounded as the pair stepped into the snow-covered city outside.

“Hmm.  I will need to come up with some kind of solution to that abysmal viewership!” Monitor scoffed, briskly moving along, bringing a hand close to his chins, “We haven’t had fresh programming in a while!  I’ll need ideas.  Ooo.  Something -- something provocative, but not stale.  Let me see…”

“Hate to interrupt your monologue, big guy, but if you’re looking, I could bring you some material,” Nil crooned, smiling, “I can pull a few stings for you.  I guarantee I can give you things you’ve never seen before.”

Mr. Monitor turned to look down at her as he walked.  He was wearing a few less than well-meaning grins himself.

“Can you?  Oh, that’s a big promise.  A big promise indeed,” he thundered, “You can bring me cheap thrills -- scandal -- the lowest common denominator?”

“Well, Mr. Monitor, you’ll have to find out tomorrow,” she told him, looking away.

“I --  Ah?  Tomorrow?” the ghoul whimpered, looking like a disappointed child.

“Tomorrow.  We’ll have lunch.  Same time, same place.  How’s that?”

“That is, ah hah hah, acceptable,” he panted, before stopping and turning to her, “But are you sure you can’t tell me what you have in mind? -- a small taste perhaps?”

“Hmm.  Okay,” she conceited, stopping herself and facing him, “You have to come in close.  I’ll whisper in your ear.”

Monitor began to stoop to get to her level.  As they came closer, Nil’s yellow teeth became visible in a tiny smirk.

But then:

“ I hate myself for lovin’ you

Can’t break free from the -- “

Staring daggers at the phone she whipped from her pocket, Nil took a step back.

“Fucking Christ!  I thought I silenced you!”

She jammed her claw into the screen and then brought it to the side of her head.

“What do you want, dickcheese?  I’m kinda in the middle of something here,” Nil demanded from the device.

“Ooh, heavens me!  Hoo!  We are crabby!” said the voice from the other side.

“No shit, Turbrat,” she snarled, “I told you to leave me alone.”

“Who are you with, sweetheart?”

“Not this shit again.  What’s it matter to you?”

Meanwhile, as this disaster unfolded before him, Mr. Monitor slowly began taking steps back.  Once he felt he was a safe distance away, he pulled at his collar, which only grew more sweaty by the second.

“Look, Turbo.  I’m living my own life now.  You’re the one who has a problem not getting over that.”

“Miss Nil, ahh hah hah,” Monitor interrupted, anxiously side-stepping, “As you’re currently busy, I’ll see myself back to the Network, thank you.”

Nil covered her phone with her hand, “Wait.  I just need--”

“No ho ho!  I’m quite okay!  I -- hah -- I’ll see you again tomorrow.  Have a nice day!”

With that, the TV monster made his swift retreat.  Standing for a few seconds with her arm outstretched, Nil witnessed him vanish into the snow squall.  Furrowing her brows, she slowly returned her phone to its position at the side of her face.  A few seconds of silence passed and in that time Nil became less tense, sighing deeply.

“So then, what have you been up to?” asked the voice, attempting to sound casual.

“I think… I made a friend,” Nil stated slyly.

“Splendid!  Who’s your new friend!?”

“Hm.  That old Beetlejuice cartoon -- you know of a Mr. Monitor?”

“I -- haha -- I’m afraid that rings approximately zero bells.”

“Ratings guy?”

“Ooooh yes.  The… evil Windows logo?” the voice chuckled hollowly, “You meet him?  That interesting.  I suppose.”

“A little high-strung,” Nil muttered, “Poor guy.  I duno.  I tried to make him feel better.  He seemed to appreciate my caring it at least.”

“Oh.  Nil, Nil, Nil…  There’s no use in that.  Status quo has to be maintained.  Trying to help is a waste of time.  That’s why I avoid the toon world -- there’s no code there, dear!”

“I know.  I wasn’t born yesterday,” Nil jeered as she sat on a nearby bench.

“See, Nil: we can’t puppeteer the likes of them.”

“Well Turbo, maybe I’m not interested in forcing this world or my new friend to do anything.  Maybe I want a genuine relationship for once.”

“You’re, haha, confusing me Nil.  I don’t think I like this.”

“Good.”

Nil hung up without another word.

((whhoooo’s ready for the follow up drabble where Nil introduces her not-boyfriend to Turbo???))

#drabbles