#no lies detected just straight up facts

[oweninadaydream]

𝐌𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧!𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Steve and you interrupt your lazy afternoon to discuss a very serious (or is it?) matter...

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Modern!Steve Harrington x fem!reader

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 : pregnant!reader, established relationship, just pure fluff

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 777

𝐚/𝐧 : I had lots of fun writing this at like 2 am lol. Hope you enjoy it! ☺️💐

Steve was in the kitchen, trying to cook dinner as fast as he could before your cravings had the chance to change and make you suddenly disgusted just by the smell of what he had been preparing for more than an hour. Today's delicatessen consisted of Hawaiian pizza with a side of pickles.

Normally, you would hate pineapple on pizza (you just can't stand mixing sweet and salty like that) and your hatred for pickles was known by all of your friends (specially by Robin, who had to hold up your hair as you vomited because she once gave you a bite of her sandwich which happened to contain the infamous ingredient), but your boyfriend wasn't willing to contradict his pregnant girlfriend who was extremely sensitive.

He was pulled out of his thoughts after hearing you call his name. "What's up, sweetheart? Everything okay?" he asked from his position.

"We need to have a very serious talk right now" you answered in a monotonous tone.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the end of Steve Harrington. After he felt that his heart had started pumping blood again, he hurried to the living-room where you had been chilling for most of the afternoon. You looked fine, there was nothing on fire and your stomach seemed as round as the last time he had seen it, so what was going on?

"Go on, I'm listening love" he encouraged you to begin revealing your thoughts.

"The baby is due in a couple of weeks and we haven't even decided which movies they're gonna watch in English and which ones in Spanish" the stress in your voice was easy to detect. Steve looked you straight in the eyes and he could swear that he had fallen in love with you all over again in that very instant. How could you be so adorable?

"Oh honey, I love you so so much" he cooed while leaving small kisses all over your face "we can discuss it now while the pizza is in the oven if you'd like" he offered.

Your native tongue was Spanish and ever since Steve and you started thinking about having children, you had known you'd raise your kids to be bilingual "They will not be no sabo kids, not on my watch".

Steve was more than thrilled at the thought of mini versions of you and him walking around, babbling in some strange form of spanglish. He had taken up Spanish after meeting you, and even though he was not the fastest learner, his disposition had taken him very far in his journey to be closer to you through language.

"Okay, so do you have any ideas?" he asked "Actually, yes I do" you quickly changed your expression to show enthusiasm "I've got a mental list of some non-negotiables. First, Enredados"

Steve hummed in acknowledgment as he had already guessed you would say Tangled, your mom's favorite Disney movie. Your mother didn't understand much English so this was a logical choice, as she wanted to watch the film with her grandchild and bond over it.

"Then, we've got Tarzan" "Tarzan?! The guy that sings the songs in the Spanish version is the same guy as in the English one, Phil Collins's accent is obvious. Also, y'know, it was my favorite movie as a kid" he tried to argue in a calm manner "...Well, I guess you're right. They can watch that one in the original version" One point to Harrington.

"What if you suggest one? I wouldn't want to impose" you commented. "Don't worry cielo, you keep going and I'll think of one or two more for me to choose" the fact that the first words he learnt were the pet names you liked the most was just one of the many proofs of his love for you " All right!!! So I had thought about El Rey León, Tiana y el sapo, Bichos, Aladdín..." you then proceeded to list almost every animated Disney movie. Steve could have stopped you at any point but the enamored haze clouding his thinking process wanted to indulge in your every desire.

The oven started beeping, alerting both Steve and you that dinner was officially ready. "Let's go, it's time for dinner" "But, what about the movies?" you pouted "Mi amor, we can do whatever you want in regards to our child's cinematic experience" "The bedtime stories can be in English, your dramatic interpretation of The three little pigs will impress them for sure" you suggested after realizing that you had monopolized the whole Disney films industry and feeling bad about it "Thank you, darling. Practice makes perfect"

Happy girlfriend, happy life, right?

P.D : Phil Collins ate and left no crumbs in the Spanish soundtrack, we appreciate him in this house !!!

#oweninadaydream #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x fem!reader #modern au #modern!steve harrington #fem!reader

[ranticore]

aerated water and extremely stratified standing water on Siren

image: a pelagic phocid trapped under a flow of aerated water, unable to reach the surface to breathe

I had to whip up a picture REALLY quick because this is text heavy and it turned out nice :) not so nice for this guy but hey. I'm going to talk about the deadliest natural phenomenon on Siren.

First things first some basic Earth limnology, if there are no tides and the wind is not blowing, standing water doesn't move. Water which is not mixed by either a current, wind, or a tide, or some other mixing factor, will stratify. It separates into layers. There'll usually be an oxygenated layer on top and an anoxic layer underneath, which can only be inhabited by certain extremophiles adapted to low or no oxygen conditions.

This is the normal way of things on Siren when the tides aren't moving; the ridges of land formed by glaciation that break up the sea are effective wind barriers and mixing is minimal. It doesn't make a difference to phocids and selkies because these people are air-breathing; in fact this stratification is why all attempts at a human with gills never really made it off the drawing board, they would be less suited to live in this water than an air breathing human. The sea never gets that deep on most of the planet's surface.

Vents in the sea floor are usually inactive or minimally active, letting out thin streams of gas (same as what makes up the atmosphere; oxygen, nitrogen, etc). However occasionally, an earthquake or other geological event will cause a vent to force out what lies beneath the crust; aerated water. Aerated water is low-density water. It's used in wastewater treatment plants on Earth right now. And if you fall in, you can't swim. You go straight through it. (These treatment plants have mechanisms to detect anything entering the water, and a mobile floor will rise up to lift you out of the water)

Aerated water on Siren is known by a variety of ominous regional names as it's pretty universally feared by sea people. In the stratified water, the aerated layer sits on top of the normal oxygenated later, creating an interface where the less dense water sits on top of the denser water. In particularly rapid flows of aerated water, it can form thick currents on the surface which do not disperse for days or even weeks at a time, and they can be so large and so sudden that entire villages could be wiped out instantly. You can't swim through aerated water, so you become trapped underneath it. You can't see the interface easily from below, so it's hard to judge its edges, it's hard to see how far it stretches. At best, you might have just taken a breath and you'll have 30 minutes to find the edge of the flow, but what if you swim in the wrong direction? What results, if people are particularly unlucky, is a mass drowning event of all air-breathing creatures in the area.

The flow usually starts in a linear shape and if it encounters open water with no land ridges, it will slowly begin to spread into a roughly round shape, getting thinner and thinner as it widens out until the layer is too thin to pose any risk. The gas discharge into the normal water can be significant and provides a nice boost for the oxygenated layer. Pelagic people have to be alert for this danger and have drilled responses and emergency flotation devices at their villages, just in case (in fact they make their own underwater hot air balloons to quickly rise to the surface using lighter than air flight)

It's not just aquatic people who are at risk. Flying people who might think to land on the sea to rest in the middle of a long journey risk landing on an aerated flow that won't support them, causing them to sink immediately. Ships with the correct displacing hulls and hydrofoil arms that penetrate to the layer of normal water can traverse aerated flows, but rafts and canoes, used by most of the population, are in danger of vanishing below the surface. Most modern whaling vessels are hydrofoils.

The final effect of the flow is incredibly rare but it has happened enough to provide fuel for superstitious rumours about flying phocids and selkies; if you're directly above the vent when the aerated water explodes out, you will be airborne very quickly and also concussed and/or dead from bludgeoning damage.

The first recorded death from aerated water occurred during year 16, when a settler human unwittingly piped a swimming pool's worth of it into a test chamber. the beta phocid test subject, Ambla, was supposed to be doing some basic aquatic locomotion studies. they were taken completely by surprise and died before the pool could be drained to save them (beta phocid lung capacity was not impressive). Ambla was the first recorded death of a genetically modified human (technically the second, but the first failed to be born and died in the deep dream so was never really alive) and initially the lab workers blamed a malfunctioning pressure generator, thinking that it had somehow increased the weight of water on Ambla and pinned them. The other beta phocids were distraught, in retribution began a campaign to sabotage the pressure pumps and other atmospheric systems at the settlement so that nobody else would die in such a manner. It was their first act of rebellion.

#setting: siren #my favouriteee bit of worldbuilding here lol

[fandomhype]

Plagiarism Somerton

I obviously didn't watch the new James Somerton apology video ON his channel because I did not want to give that man the views and you shouldn't either! It has been re-uploaded and summarised elsewhere so that he doesn't benefit if anyone wants to see it.

The original hbomberguy video was wild to me because of all the stealing, I found it highly entertaining, loved all the Memes and it honestly did my imposter syndrome wonders! but then I watched the Todd in the shadows video and it really upset me.

He didn't just steal from other LGBT creators he lied to his mostly young LGBT audiance who were looking to an elder gay for guidance and to learn about their history.

Todd's video starts with a clip of James lies being spread by another person on a podcast, there's clips of people discussing his made up gay nazi fanfic he has presented as hard facts. He actively harmed his own community for cash! There are young gay men bringing that subject up in conversation being laughed at for falling for it and that leaves a really bad taste in my mouth.

Now I'm not a part of that community but a lot of people I love are so that angered me a lot.

...and then he comes back with another apology video, conveniently within the three months he would have had to post something on his channel to retain his monetisation status weirdly?! In which he blames both a head injury and his ADHD for his theft - at no point does he address the lying in either apology video or any of the apology posts he made that I could find.

I have combined ADHD, when I was first diagnosed the NHS referred to it as ADD with Hyperactivity element but everyone seems to have gone back to calling it ADHD and that is the term used most commonly online so that is what I refer to it is as.

I am medicated but there has been a world wide shortage of my medication and I was without it for some time over winter, which was HELL! I got nothing done.

I am in no way a big creator, Youtube for me is a fun wee hobby that will hopefully grow and allow me to collaborate with other people with similar interests but ADHD is for sure a large part of my journey as a creator.

I've published like 7 videos and currently have around 10 being worked on because, you know... ADHD! *siren noises*

I know that I am forgetful sometimes, just for the record I also had several head injuries and concussions as a child because Lil undiagnosed at the time me truly had no fear of climbing or other dangerous activities so I have my script (because free talking a subject with this brain would be nearly impossible) open in one google doc and my research open in another. It's not hard.

That's the way it was at school, college and Uni too. James claims he went to Uni to do business. Every university uses anti-plagerism software for essays and has done since like the mid 2000's? so he knows not to copy pasta. He's straight up lying there.

Another thing he's lying about is his ADHD making him forget he copied things. Now if you tell me a joke that I like it'll stick in my head and I will straight up tell it as my own later, I've been called out for this many times! But entire articles? whole sections of other peoples videos? (he also flipped a fan Vid he had ripped off of another YouTube to avoid detection and tried to pass it off as his own) No that's not something you can accidentally do even with a swiss cheese brain like mine.

Weirdly all the the paragraphs James claims he accidentally copied were also edited to remove aspects of the Trans, Bi and Ace experiences that James markedly does not believe exist. Strange considering he accidentally copied them and assumed they were his own words? Imagine going back through a paragraph you think you wrote yesterday in the edit the next day and finding swarths of things you don't agree with there?!

Why am I telling you all this? Well because I wanted to put my two cents in as a creator with this condition, partly because I felt it was somewhat of an attack on us!? He's put it out there that ADHD creators are liable to steal from others and that's not ok by me. Also I just really like the sound of my own typing!

TL;DR : James Sommerton is a suck ass liar and he doesn't get to use his disability as an excuse for what he did! and...

****** ADHD DOES NOT MAKE YOU STEAL SHIT!!! ******

Also watch Todd's Vid, everyone saw the Hbomberguy one but this one goes deeper:

#james somerton #actually adhd #james sommerton #hbomberguy

[sin-djarin]

Holsters, lies, and video tape.

Javier Pena & Tim Rockford (plus a special guest.)

Rating: M

Word count: 2.2k

Summary: Things go awry for Javi on New Years Eve. And there are pickles. Because of course.

Warnings: Swearing, Becca bastardizes police interrogations, mention of Tim Rockford's gun holsters, mention of tight jeans and straining buttons.

A/N: Disclaimer: for fic purposes, we're pretending Tim and Javi work together in this universe. Don't ask how I got here, for I do not know.

This fic had to include a pickle/pickles and the following line of dialogue: "You stand there and accuse me, but where were you at the time?"

Enjoy this hasty silliness and forgive typos. Happy 2024! (@pickled-pena)

Detective Rockford stands outside the interview room, a clipboard full of blank notes in one hand and a sealed brown paper evidence bag in the other. This is the last place he wants to be this evening. Realistically, he should have been at home hours ago but duty called. 

Rolling his head around on his shoulders, he gathers his resolve and pushes down on the door handle. As the door swings open, he enters the brightly lit interview room. His suspect is already present and waiting. Pulling out a chair, he takes a seat opposite the suspect, noticing that this person doesn’t fit the typical profile of criminals he’s used to encountering. The man is clean cut and put together, if a little frustrated. 

Under a furrowed brow, the suspect's eyes dart after his every move. He watches wide eyed as he places the bag on the floor and stares at his thumb pressing down on the record button of the tape recorder. The echo of the click hammering home that he is in fact here and this isn't some sort of dream before the detective begins his customary introductions. 

“The time is 19:37, on December 31st. My name is Detective Tim Rockford and I work for the Los Angeles Police Department. I investigate robberies, and theft.” he begins, his voice carrying an air of authority. “I’m going to advise you of your rights. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you do say can be used as evidence against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney of your choice and to have an attorney present before and during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, you are entitled to have one appointed to you. You may stop answering questions or ask for an attorney at any time during questioning. Do you understand each of these rights as I’ve explained them to you?”

The suspect feigns interest as Detective Rockford effortlessly recites his rights. He stares at the glossy surface of the table that separates them, wracking his brain to figure out what exactly he did to end up here. He’s heard the same sentences hundreds of times to the point it became difficult not to say them along with the detective as he reaches the end of his spiel. 

“Yes.” 

“And having been made fully aware of these rights, do you voluntarily wish to answer questions?”

“I do.” 

“Can you please state your full name for me, Sir?”

The suspect hesitates for a second before answering, “Javier Peña.” 

“Okay, Javi-” the detective clears his throat before correcting himself. “Javier. ”So, I’ve had a look at your case. It seems like you’ve fallen on hard times. Is that right?”

“Yes.” Javier admits, his voice filled with resignation. 

Detective Rockford's gaze softens, recognizing the difficult circumstances the suspect finds himself in. “Can you tell me a little bit about it?” 

Javier closes his eyes as he attempts to get his story straight. Finally his mouth opens, voice cracking as he uses the only weapon he has left - reason. “I um…I just moved back to the States. I thought I’d have a job by now but things haven’t worked out the way I wanted them to.” he admits. 

“Right. And what about earlier today? Can you tell me what happened?”

Heaving a deep breath that threatens the buttons of his white shirt, he recounts his movements. “I went to the store to buy groceries. And I paid for my food and left.” 

“That was the first store you went into? You didn’t go anywhere else?” 

“No. That was the only one.” 

“And what happened when you went inside?”

Annoyance starts to seep into his voice as Javier replies, “I just told you.” 

“Have you done anything like this before?” 

“No.” Javier repeats through gritted teeth. 

“And you weren’t scared?” 

“I wasn’t scared because I didn’t do anything.” Javier insists. 

Detective Rockford leans back into the plastic chair, taking a moment to process the response before shifting the focus of his inquiry. 

“Okay. Okay." the detective nods, absorbing his story so far. "Do you remember what you bought?”

“Groceries…um…cheese, meat, bread.”

“Anything else?” the detective probes further. 

Javier takes a moment to collect his thoughts, focusing his gaze on the lens of the camera that’s not so discreetly positioned in the corner of the room. He stares at the flashing red recording light, allowing the image of it to burn into his retinas. The pulsing rhythm of it becomes almost hypnotic as he thinks about how absurd this whole affair is before turning back to face the detective who awaits his answer. 

“No.” 

“Did you speak to anyone?”

“Just the cashier.”

“What did they say? Do you remember what they looked like?”

“I don’t know. ‘Thank you?’ ‘Have a nice day?’ She had nice nails, though. Fuck.” Javier sighs in defeat. “This is crazy. Can I have a cigarette?” he pleads. 

The room feels stifling and Javier can feel his blood pressure rise at the detective’s ridiculous enquiries. It’s certainly not the first time he’s been in a room like this but his palms grow clammy behind his back as he muses over the stupidity of the situation he finds himself in in between questions. He shakes his head, wondering how much longer the detective can prolong this and how much longer he can go without a cigarette.  

“We can talk about that later. Did she give you a receipt?” 

“Probably.”

“Probably?” 

“Yeah, probably.” Javier scoffs with his patience continuing to wear thin. 

“Do you have it?” 

“I don’t know you took all my shit when I got here.”

“Easy,” Detective Rockford soothes, holding up a hand between them. “I’m just trying to help you out here. I need to get a full picture of what happened. You said you don’t have a job, correct?” 

“Right. No job.” Javier confirms, rolling his eyes. 

Detective Rockford’s questioning continues, delving deeper into Javier’s financial situation and the source of the money he used to pay for the groceries. As the interview progresses, Javier’s irritation continues to rise. He swears the room is getting hotter as every minute passes. The bright lights bouncing off the white brick walls are making his eyes ache. He can feel droplets of sweat roll down his back at the lack of air conditioning and the sharp metal of the cuffs bite deeper into his wrists when he struggles against them. 

This is exactly what the detective wants. He’s conducted hundreds of interviews with thousands of perpetrators and he knows Javier is close to boiling point, knows that he would rather be inhaling smoke and lining his lungs with nicotine and he knows that if he keeps straining, he’s definitely going to pop a button on his shirt. Still, he remains calm as he scans Javier’s face for any clues of deception. He’s already picked up on the ticks in his jaw, the twitching of his mustache and the flaring of his nostrils when he lies. 

“Listen. I get it. Times are tough for you. If I was in your shoes I’d have probably done the same thing. Everyone needs to eat, right? There’s support out there for families in need of assistance. Maybe you just forgot to pay for some items.” the detective proposes. 

“Fuck you. You don’t know shit. Just because I don’t have a job doesn’t mean I can’t pay my way.” Javier exclaims, unable to contain himself any longer. 

The tip of his boot hits the flimsy leg of the table, making it rattle violently. It’s this that makes the detective change tact. He bends forward over the table, locking eyes with Javier. 

“I know more than you think.” Detective Rockford asserts confidently. 

Javier spits back with defiance. “Prove it.” 

“I have a witness that described you down to the last detail. Mustache, yellow sunglasses, jeans that are too tight and a little dated - her words, not mine.” he assures Javier who glares at him upon hearing the words. ”She says you walked out of the store with something under your arm.” 

“That doesn’t prove anything. Million guys like that out there.” he shrugs off the comment. 

Detective Rockford remains poised and pulls out the evidence bag, hoping that whatever is inside will implicate Javier in the crime he’s been accused of committing.  

“What exactly are you accusing me of, detective?” 

“Theft.” he answers. 

“Of the things I told you I paid for?” 

“Those. And,” the Detective opens the bag and peeks inside and his eyes widen at the sight of the contents. He exchanges a worried look with his suspect, watching his Adam's apple bob as he swallows hard before stating, “Pickles.” 

“Pickles?” Javier asks, now equally confused as the man tasked with questioning him. 

“Pickles.” the detective confirms, lifting the large jar out of the evidence bag. “Kosher dill pickles. Look familiar?” he squints, reading the white label. 

“I don’t even like pickles. This is fucking insane.” 

Detective Rockford maintains his professionalism, presenting the evidence to Javier as best he can. “It is. It really is. Especially considering you don’t like them. None of it makes sense. But maybe you were distracted. Like I said, maybe you forgot to pay for them?” 

“How would I forget to pay for something I don’t even like?” 

With his curiosity piqued, the detective arches his eyebrow and says coolly, “You tell me. The jar had your fingerprints all over them.” 

“Bullshit.” he snaps, narrowing his eyes at the statement. 

Javier knows that it is bullshit. He knows it would take longer than the hour he’s been sat there for for a lab report to come back with a full analysis of his fingerprints. There’s not even any residual dust on the glass of the jar from what he can see. 

“Mr. Peña, intentions and motive aside, stealing is stealing. You could have avoided all of this by just paying for it..” 

Javier finally relents. He can’t take another minute of questioning, can’t take another second of listening to the detective’s fingertips tapping the table. 

“It was a mistake. Can we settle this without making it a big deal?” 

“Unfortunately, that’s not for me to decide. I have a responsibility to uphold the law. I’ll send in my colleague to come in and speak to you about where to go from here. I’m glad you talked, Javier. Take care of yourself.” he says softly, bidding Javier farewell with genuine concern. 

The detective stands from his seat and walks towards the door with his notes still as empty as they were when he walked in. 

“Aaaaand cut!” an enthusiastic voice yells from the other side of the room. Both men's shoulders drop, heaving sighs of relief in unison upon hearing the words. 

“You gotta be fucking kidding me. Pickles?! Rockford, get me out of these fucking cuffs.” 

Tim retrieves the keys from his pocket and quickly releases his colleague from the handcuffs that bound him. The two men turn their attention to the director dressed in a loud orange shirt. Stepping over cables and ducking under lamps, he begins walking towards them across the small room while his camera assistant starts to disassemble the intricate lighting setup.  

“You two were amazing! You, with the holsters and everything.” The man beams at Tim, almost awestruck as he gestures at the black leather strapped tight around his shoulders. “And you too of course,” he grins, turning to Javier to sing his praises next. “You looked so pissed off! I really felt it.” 

But the compliment is only met with a grimace from Javier. 

“What’s your name again?” Tim asks the director. 

“I am Javi. Gutierrez.” he nods vehemently. 

“Nice meeting you, Javi. But maybe try a different prop next time. A bottle of liquor, some electronics, you know? It might make it a little more believable. Nobody really steals pickles.” Tim advises the man who is responsible for them being at work on New Year’s Eve. 

It was probably something agreed to absentmindedly when they were both neck deep in actual investigations, but somehow the two men had forgotten that they had consented to star in a demonstrational video on interrogation techniques. 

Both of them studied similar instructional videos on their own rises through the ranks; what to do and what not to do - although much lower budget and lower resolution. Neither of them could have foreseen the Hollywood-esque setup that had been arranged in such a small interview room at lunch time or the exuberance of their European director. 

“Rockford, let's get out of here.” Peña sighs, patting Tim on the arm and dismissing his director. 

Both men exit the cramped room and start to navigate the maze of corridors to the entrance of the building. Javi places a cigarette between his lips, ready to light as soon as they step outside but even the taste of the filter is just as sweet. The scowl painted across his face at having pulled the short straw as to who got to do the questioning hasn’t quite worn off. 

“Beer?” Javi suggests. 

“Yeah. You’re buying though. You got us into that mess.” 

“You stand there and accuse me, but where were you at the time?” Javi stops walking, placing his hands on his hips as awaits a response to his own accusation. “I wasn’t going through that by myself.”

Choosing to ignore it, Tim turns to him and shifts his focus to the unlit cigarette dangling from Javi’s mouth. “Maybe you should try giving up for the new year. That’s the longest I’ve seen you go without smoking.” 

Javi snickers and rolls his eyes, “Yeah, and maybe you should take up acting. I don’t know how you kept it together.” 

“Better yet, I say we both start reading our emails properly and avoid this next year. Fucking pickles.” Tim grumbles over the spark of Javi's lighter. 

#javier peña #tim rockford #pickledpeña writing challenge #pickled peña writing challenge #pickledpeña

[shy-urban-hobbit]

Modern au Lambden ficlet.

C/W for very brief implied suicide.

Lambert smiled to himself as his phone alerted him to the now expected notification.

'Home safe X O '

Was it unnecessary? Probably - considering they exchanged enough messages throughout the day to know exactly where the other was and what they were doing; whether it was Aiden sending him a picture of something he'd seen out on his morning run or Lambert sneakily texting him during a work meeting to bitch about how pointless it was. It had become a habit at this point, Aiden expected the same thing and would panic if he didn't receive a text, even if it was just after the 20 minute drive between their apartments.

It probably wasn't so unreasonable in the grand scheme of things though. Afterall, they both knew first hand how quickly someone or something could disappear from your life - all it took was being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Lambert checked his phone again, his leg bouncing as he tried to focus on whatever his brother was talking about and not the unpleasant feeling which was growing steadily stronger whenever another quarter hour passed. There'd be a logical explanation for why Aiden hadn't messaged him yet: his phone had died, the meeting ran late, he ran into someone he knew, he'd got stuck in traffic - it had happened to Lambert enough times.

"If you're that worried, just call him."

Lambert shrugged, trying to look as relaxed as he forced his attention back to the conversation happening around him, "I'll give him another 15 minutes." He lied. Geralt didn't need to know he'd already tried calling Aiden five times under the pretense of going to the bathroom or grabbing another drink - all going straight to voicemail.

Lambert slouched into his apartment after a too long day of trying to ignore the date and poured himself three fingers of whiskey as an act of acknowledgement. Three years. Three, far too long years of searching and hoping. The police had done all they could but with no body and no new leads, they'd called off the investigation after not even a year.

No body, no evidence, no signs....no reason he was aware of for Aiden to just up and disappear. Something he'd told the various officers and detectives numerous fucking times, to the point of questioning it himself which then made him feel even worse. How many people did he have to convince that they'd been happy!!!? At least his and Aiden's collective siblings and parental figures had had his back on that one (Cedric back near the beginning of all this had told him half joking between helping Lambert through another drunken night hugging the toilet that he'd never seen Aiden act so much like a lovestruck teenager even when he was a teenager), otherwise he just might have ended up taking himself off for a wander he didn't come back from on the particularly dark days.

Days which were becoming more frequent as more and more people started dropping gentle and not so gentle hints that maybe it was time to start moving forwards - something he'd had more than one argument over. Just because everyone else had given up didn't change the fact that something about this wasn't right and Lambert was going to figure out what and why even if he had to do it alone.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he was almost tempted to ignore it. Word would've got out about his shouting match with Eskel so it would be either Vesemir or Geralt bugging him and if he ignored their text, they'd just end up calling him and he seriously didn't want to speak to anybody right now.

He fished out his phone and almost dropped his glass.

'Home safe X O '

He felt his hand start to shake. He didn't recognise the number, it could easily be a hoax, or a wrong number. There were a thousand other possible explanations...

He pressed the call button and listened, struggling to get enough air in his lungs to even breathe, let alone speak when the ringing at the other end of the line stopped.

"....Aiden?"

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #aiden/lambert #aiden x lambert #lambert/aiden #lambert x aiden #witcher aiden #lambden #witcher lambert #lambert

[imaginesbymonika]

Crush

Part 4 out of ???

Part 1 is here

Part 2 is here

Part 3 is here

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Plot: There is nothing quite like realizing you're in love with your best friend when it's too late right?

Warnings: mentions of hopsitals, , mentions of someone being shot, mentions of blood

"How long was I gone?", Y/N asks, every word hurting her throat while it leaves her. She brings the paper straw up to her mouth and takes a sip of the water.

"Two and a half days.", the man in the white gown answers, while he skips over the chart:" The fact that you are alive right now, and talking to me is nothing short of a miracle." A disbelieving smile emerges on his face:" Your boyfriend must be here any minute, he left his phone number and we called him half an hour ago. I left a message on his voicemail."

Y/N furrows her eyebrows and tries to sit up straight:" My- my boyfriend?" "Yeah, the guy who came in a few minutes after you, we essentially had to throw him out because he was getting in the way of everything. He didn't mean to, he was just very-." At the sound of loud voices coming from outside he twists his head:" Ah! There he comes!"

Spencer, who is followed by Penelope and Derek walks through the door. His eyes are anxiously roaming the room and once they land on Y/N he shuts them for a moment. A visible wave of relief washes over him. The other woman softly pats his shoulder, before she sits down on a chair next to the bed:" Hey, sweetheart. How are you?"

The y/h/ced woman takes a deep breath and her eyes remain on Spencer before she turns to look at her friend:" I'm good. Thanks for stopping by." "Of course.", she states, touching the blanket that lies on top of Y/N's legs:" We were worried sick!" She peeks over at Spencer, who is leaning against the wall. He looks drained.

"We are so happy that you are awake again.", Derek adds:" Would have been a real shame, if you-." At that Spencer bites his lower lip and quickly steps out of the room. "Sorry, about him.", the other agent says:" The last two days have been really challenging for him." He forces a smile:" I'm back in a second."

Derek looks around the corridos. For the last 50 hours, Spencer has been acting like a total madman. While he was sitting at his desk he was basically only staring at the floor, and if he wasn't doing that- his eyes were focused on his phone.

For a moment Derek believes that Spencer has left the hospital and he wants to turn around to get back to Y/N's hospital room. However, when he detects him at the end of the hallway, sitting on one of the chairs he lets out a deep sigh.

"Spence, what are you doing?"

"I was thinking maybe I could try to pick up smocking.", Spencer runs a hand down his face. "But you hate the smell of cigarettes." "Yeah, but I hate anxiety even more than that." An unhappy smile arises on Derek's lips and he quietly sits down next to his friend. A stillness falls upon the two.

"It was so…shiny."

Derek tilts his head:" What?"

"Her blood, It was…so red and shiny. And there was this tiny little bug who was drowning in it. I couldn't stop staring at it. How it was struggling and moving and- and I tried to get out of my restraints but I just couldn't. Or maybe, maybe I didn't try enough.", Spencer clears his throat:" I don't know what I would have done if Y/N'-."

"But she didn't.", Derek cuts him off and puts his arm around his shoulder:" That's what matters. You should be in there with her, Y/N needs you, right now! And you need her too."

#mgg #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler fluff #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid #mgg x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer #reid angst #criminal minds angst #angst #Spotify

[midnightsun-if]

Can you give us a fluff, or as fluff as they can be, story with Elizabeth and Rainier? I’m super curious about their dynamic as they seem perfectly matched but complete opposites.

“Why did you do it?”

The soft question, and the even softer voice that asks it, is barely heard over the sharp crackling of the hearth— disjointed rays of orange, red, and yellow flickering across the Victorian decor, bringing new life into the aged room.

Ruby red meets icy blue from across the room; where the former sat sharpening a dagger and the latter lounged in front of the blazing fire with a book in hand.

“Why did I do what?” Elizabeth retorts, dropping her gaze back to shining metal. This game of word chess had been replayed so many times now that she could already tell where her husband was leading up to. “Marry you? Because I truly don’t have the faintest inclination as to why—”

“Lilibet,” Rainier interrupts, a deep chuckle rumbling from within his chest. A sound that only ever came when around his wife, in the privacy of their own home, away from prying eyes, and, like a moth to the seductive flame, he stands to move closer to her. “You know what I’m asking. Why did you do it? Why did you keep me alive?”

Peering up through thick lashes, Elizabeth lets her dagger fall to the cushioned pad below— a brief flicker of annoyance festering within her chest at her task being interrupted before she extinguished it— and she stands to match her husband’s gaze straight on.

“I do numerous things without having a course of action after the fact, Rainier. Keeping you alive was a mere whim that I decided to follow.”

Rainier shakes his head. “I don’t believe that for a second, Elizabeth. You’re the most ambitiously cunning woman I have ever met. You don’t do anything without having a backup plan to your backup plan. So—” He rounds the table, stepping closer to his wife. “— I ask again… Why did you keep me alive?”

There’s a moment of silence— wherein the two simply observe the other; after centuries of being together, they knew how to read one another like a children’s book. Elizabeth knew what her husband wished to hear, that she had looked into his eyes and simply realized she could not bear to be without him, that she had felt a pull towards him long before he became immortal, but such fanciful notions were nothing more than arbitrary lies.

“Because you didn’t weep like a sniveling coward, Rainier,” she replies, settling back down in her seat, aware the game was coming to an end. For now. “I found that intriguing. What more do you wish for me to say?”

Looking down at her, Rainier’s expression doesn’t falter from the serene stoicism she had taught him so long ago, but she could easily detect the flicker of disappointment that flashed through the blue depths of his gaze. “The truth, for starters,” he chuckles, leaning down to place a chaste kiss to her cheek. “Something that’ll I get out of you one of these days.”

Watching her husband amble back to his seat, and whatever book had caught his attention, Elizabeth almost feels regret flooding her chest, a heavy sort of weight that she didn’t quite like to bear…

You already have, you foolish man, she thinks, watching as Rainier relaxes once more. It’s just not something you wish to accept.

It’d only be a matter of time before the question came again and the game would start once more— Rainier, never realizing that he had already won the first time he had played.

#midnight sun #asks #sc: elizabeth #sc: rainier #midsun: snippets

[anonymous-dentist]

q!Cellbit’s reaction to Jaiden being back will be really interesting actually because we know that he’s going to be lied to 100%, and he’s very good at picking up when people are lying to him. He’s literally a detective, and Jaiden has been kinda bad at keeping the facts straight in her story. The second she messes up in front of him, he’ll know, and it could get messy fast.

Going all the way back to his prison days, trust has been one of his highest priorities. He needs to trust someone before he can really even begin trying to be friends with them, and he trusts Jaiden a lot. She’s one of his closest friends, and it’s obvious that she trusts him just as much because he was one of the first to get to see Bobby Fields. He’s never really cared about her liking Cucurucho because he trusts her not to, like, betray him and join the Feds or something. Because they’re friends!

And Jaiden doesn’t trust the Federation, let’s make that clear. She said as much today to the Cucuruchos: she trusts them, not their organization.

But then she also said that Cucurucho attacking Cellbit and killing him was just it being “silly”, and I think that’s actually what could do her in here. But it also depends!

Because Cellbit hates the Federation. But he hates Cucurucho more. It’s an obsession. Trying to kill Cucurucho is one of two things that breaks his therapy; he only feels genuine bloodlust and rage when he’s triggered, including when he sees Cucurucho. Because Cucurucho tortured him. Murdered him. Laughed over his corpse. Tortured him some more. Threatened his son. Kidnapped his best friend. Kidnapped him.

So when he hears that Jaiden was kidnapped by Cucurucho, he’ll obviously be on her side immediately. But he also knows how the island’s kidnappings have worked so far, he’s studied them in enough detail to know that the Federation takes people for a reason. For Quackity, it was to have ElQuackity active on the island. For Felps, it was some kind of experiment that he just hadn’t had the ability to look into. For himself, it was because he kinda did join them, but it was also clearly a punishment for what he had done up to that point. It was also a reward for his loyalty and his willingness to abandon himself in the Federation’s name, which is interesting because…

He knows that Jaiden has been doing the same tasks as him. He even warned her from the start to be careful because he got kidnapped after doing his tasks. And then now she did get kidnapped, and he’ll obviously believe her from the start because of the clear evidence pointing towards her telling the truth.

But he doesn’t like when people lie to him. If he finds out, it might not be very pretty. He loves her, yeah, and he trusts her with almost everything he can offer outside of his own ‘mind’ (aka the Fear Room.) He was even gonna build her an office in the Order! And to hear that she was lying to him about this?

[dafry]

I wanna take a moment to give my appreciation to the detective conan fanfic author's who made these crossover exist-

First off, Detective Conan and BBC/TV Sherlock Holmes!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15340590/chapters/35594700

There's also a few others but this is one of the longer ones and still updated once a while! :D

Seeing them interact is just HILARIOUS, coupled with the fact Conan's world turned completely upside down (like how da heck did he get there and why was Sherlock there) and now have to try and deal with it without getting too confused-

Then there's the rivalry between the two, with Sherlock probably trying to figure out more about Conan and Conan trying very hard to hide his identity

Second, Detective Conan and Danny Phantom?

Ngl when I first searched for detco crossovers I really didn't expect this one to appear let alone exist-

But it does! And even though I was a bit skeptical at first, there's actually quite a few I ended up enjoying! :D

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34201519/chapters/85098820 (this one's the more recently updated one and the longest one so far)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17596160/chapters/41477369 (this one was probably discontinued but it's also the second most lengthy one and I think it was good enough :v)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10023191/chapters/22342343 (another old discontinued one and probably the the shortest compared to the other but I really liked it qwq)

Also would be interesting to see the dynamic that is Conan the corpse magnet and Danny the ghost magnet-

Lol funny how the two have a thing with "dead" things- Only difference is Conan doesn't even mind it too much anymore but everyone else around him that are new to his (curse-) unusually high corpse encounter would probably be very disturbed and maybe even traumatized- (honestly I pray for their mental health and sanity because BOI do Conan have a bunch of stuff in store for them XD)

And last but not least, Detective Conan and Ace Attorney! :D

(I also want to thank the fandom for already making art of them which make sense since both have their similarities and I love every single one of em-)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29595030?view_full_work=true (a short crack fic but, I HIGHLY RECOMMEND READING IT BECAUSE IT'S GOLD-)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12186486/chapters/27666696 (and here's the actual fic that was unfortunately also discontinued but it's long and interesting enough)

Lol just the thought of how much Conan actually lies (literally he opens his mouth and just let out a stream of LIES- (especially when he's involved in a case-)) and the fact that Phoenix have an item that can tell if someone is lying about something is just- 👌✨

I like to think that the way Phoenix view Conan most of the time is that he's always surrounded by a bunch of chains and psyche-locks lol

Then there's the fact that Conan could probably beat anyone in a deduction game from that universe (he's just that superior- I don't make the rules) In fact he could probably solve it faster than Phoenix can say 'Objection!'

And so enjoy these few lines of dialogue I thought when thinking about the possibilities of this crossover;

Phoenix trying to make a feeble attempt of a deduction: W-well... I...

Conan 'Sherlock bloody Holmes' edogawa: I'm able to tell from this small detail you've missed that your deduction is completely wrong!

Phoenix: HOW DA HECK IS A KID THIS GOOD AT DEDUCTING THINGS AND MAKING ME LOOK LIKE A COMPLETE FOOL?!? WHO DA FUK DOES HE THINK HE IS??? SHERLOCK HOLMES???!??!!!

Conan: *internally freaking out and trying hard not to blush at the comment and keep a straight face*

Phoenix after getting outsmarted by Conan again for millionth time: *hoarsely* He's a monster...

Edgeworth: Pffft- Wright this is a child we're talking about, maybe you're just too incompetent-

Edgeworth also getting wrecked by Conan deduction later: ...Wright there's something wrong with this child- HOW DO THEY KNOW SO MUCH MORE THAN US?!?? IT'S AS IF THE KID HAVE WAY MORE EXPERIENCE THAN US ADULTS WHO GRADUATED LAW SCHOOL!!! SERIOUSLY, WHO AND WHERE DID THIS SASSY LOST CHILD CAME FROM?!?

Phoenix: I tried to warn you man...

How the two have an affinity to attract cases wherever they go;

Phoenix: Man, kinda weird that cases just appears where ever I go sometimes-

Conan: Oh, you too? Sure hope it's not as bad as mine then...

Phoenix: Wait- what do you mean you-?

Conan: Cases pop up in almost everyday in the week for me so I've seen quite the mass of corpses-

Phoenix: I'm sorry, you've seen WHAT-?!?

Lol just the idea that Conan would soon be known as the little lying menace of a gremlin that he is, would be pretty hilarious- XD

.

What I love most about all of them is the chaotic mess that is Conan's life/identity/personality clashing with other protagonist who is equally just as chaotic in a few different ways-

#*crack knuckles* alrighty let's see if i can tag everything here properly- #i would probably miss a few so excuse me #also inaccurate heights probably because i was too lazy to fix/change anything #sherlock holmes #sherlockbbc #sherlock tv #john watson #danny phantom #danny fenton #ace attorney #phoenix wright #detective conan #edogawa conan #kudo shinichi #dcmk #fanfic #fanfic related #ao3 fanfic #this took forever #to both draw and write- #i'm so tired #crossover #There's still another half probably waiting- #lol sorry peeps who follow and have notifs on me

[bracketsoffear]

Columbo (Columbo) "A shrewd but inelegant blue-collar homicide detective whose trademarks include his shambling manner, rumpled beige raincoat, cigar and off-putting, relentless investigative approach. Columbo was the master of perp sweating. Though he generally settles on his horse from the outset, he never lets on, instead worming his way into their confidence via fawning adulation, begging their assistance as he "solves" the case. Usually he forces them to weave a huge web of lies until he can finally pull the thread — justified because he's always right. Without letting on that he suspects the perp, he'd have long, seemingly innocuous conversations with the murderer who would get more and more frustrated as they tried to get this annoying man to go away, and thus already be off-balance when the topic turned to holes in their cover-up. Columbo's favorite move was seeming to leave once the suspect thought they'd thrown him off the scent, then turning around and adding "Just one more thing," knocking them on their heels. He's overly nice to people in a bloodhound sort of way; he convinces people that he's just a country bumpkin more interested in whatever 'hat' the villain wears than solving the crime, only to reveal in the end a cold detachment and clinical mind that the bumpkin persona allowed free rein. He plays with the feelings of the criminals, making them like him (more often than not) or at least pity him and drop their guard, or he pushes them subtly and continuously to the point where they break. He attributes his success to merely working harder, thinking longer, and looking closer than anyone else would. However, Columbo has solved every case put before him onscreen (he sometimes claims that he only solves about a third total, but this could well be part of the humility act) and hasn't gotten his man only once — in which case the perp was dying anyway. In true classic mystery fashion, each episode wraps up with the Lieutenant confronting his prey with his train of deduction, culminating in the vital clue; the perp may not confess, but they know, and the viewer knows, they have been beaten. He also possesses an encyclopedic knowledge on some subjects, which he usually hides, and has explained to colleagues that his wife believes there is "something wrong" with him."

Jadis (Kill Six Billion Demons) "Jadis was born into a family of philosopher royalty who saw the Shape of the Universe as an experiment to study and dissect; they wasted ten generations in their efforts to witness the Shape (something that boiled a goddess’ eyes to see) and obtain all the secrets of Creation, a task she was prophecised to complete. She successfully saw the Shape, but it proved to be a thing beyond mortal ken and Jadis was shattered in both mind and body. She now exists inside a block of glass, a decaying, unmoving corpse, whispering prophecies with her perfect, terrible knowledge and worshipped by a cult devoted to recording and intepreting her whispers (and occasionally mis-interpreting them) while keeping their God-Queen alive. Book 5 demonstrates that, like the author has said, “Jadis knows the most, in fact. Of anyone. Ever”…and it has utterly destroyed her. Her perfect knowledge left her a deeply jaded, nihilistic woman who feels her actions, choices, and even her own identity (and everyone else's) are rendered completely moot when compared to the full shape of the universe. As someone who is ignorant of nothing, Jadis' limits are absolute and she is incapable of anything she hasn't already predicted will happen. She can't choose to do anything, because her decisions and their outcomes are already known to her. The alt text and some of her lines in her section of Breaker of Infinites discuss how if you can see everything, anything in it just becomes meaningless, unidentifiable noise in the infinite detail of it all: “When you see everything, there’s only one color left.” Jadis straight-up tells Allison that she, Jadis, does not exist in any meaningful sense because she can't tell where the lines between the Shape of the Universe and even her own mind are anymore. Consequently, Jadis tries to convince Allison to stop her mission to stop the destruction of the multiverse because she’s convinced that fighting is futile and meaningless in the end, so she should surrender instead of choosing more suffering. She takes Allison to see the machine that showed her the Shape, tells her the exact time from then she will die, comments on a personal detail of Allison’s past, and says what she’s doing before she does it (to make it creepier, her predictions were in the alt text several pages before). She then shows Allison the Shape and gives her a breaking speech to try and convince her to give up, and eventually talks Allison into accepting futility for months before she gets her shit together. Allison eventually realizes that Jadis is unable to change or recover from the traumas of her past because she no longer has a past - her perfect knowledge of everything that ever is, was, and will be means that she is constantly, continually reliving the complete and total despair that hit her when she saw the Shape and realized the futility of everything, and will do so for as long as she exists. Jadis wanted to know, believing that she could use her wisdom for the greater good, but the horrible knowledge she gained by seeing literally everything ever destroyed her so completely that she cannot comprehend being a person or making choices anymore--she has thus trapped herself in nihilistic certainty that she knows what’s going to happen and therefore nothing matters, and she wants to impress that mindset onto the only person she can even share her omniscience with anymore."

#eye poll #the magnus archives #the eye #poll #columbo #kill six billion demons

[ofhope-a]

THE LONG-AWAITED KANJI TATSUMI POST, aka --

Let's start, firstly, with Kanji's own words:

IMPORTANT: this will touch on real world homophobia, particularly the sort that ran rampant in the early 2000's / 2010's, which translates into the game, as well. Please tread carefully.

The main theme throughout Kanji Tatsumi's Palace is his struggles regarding sexuality, or more accurately, how he must be one "side" or the "other." Kanji's Shadow self, while partially reflecting the tone-deaf nature of how sexuality was interpreted back in the early 2000's, is showcasing a Kanji that is more comfortable, more out with his sexuality... a part of him in which he doesn't identify.

"Accept me for who I am!"

"Can't believe something like this was inside me."

A major part of Kanji's punkish persona stems from this battle. "Feminine hobbies," while thankfully not categorized as such much now-a-days, were regarded as just that: feminine, something men shouldn't enjoy. Kanji, as I've discussed previously, partakes in many such hobbies, an enjoyment which makes students gossip and file him into a category in which he doesn't, he feels, belong. One of Shadow Kanji's main arguments is that girls belittle him, whereas men are less judgmental -- however, I feel that his Shadow took this mentality to an extreme.

"They cry if you get angry, they gossip behind your back, they spread nasty lies... they look at me like I'm some disgusting thing and look at me like I'm a weirdo!"

"But you're a guy! You don't act like a guy! Why aren't you manly?!"

"What does it mean to be a guy? What does it mean to be manly?"

Kanji, I feel, has the experience of most male-identifying individuals in the early 2000's: to cry is to be weak, and to share your emotions is to equate yourself with a "girl," a sentiment which then had negative connotations. Kanji's father died whenever he was very young, and his mother is what influenced him most... something that, unfortunately, would be picked apart in school. With this in mind, Kanji compensated by being every definition of manly he could find: being tough, starting fights, never showing his emotions.

But there were times he would slip. Where he would bring up the fact that he could sew or knit, and his peers would tear him apart for it, because they were "right"; this is to say, Kanji has been torn between multiple sides for many, many years, and this extends toward his sexuality as well.

We first meet Kanji whenever he is meeting with Naoto. To avoid delving in too deep, it is hinted - and shown - that Kanji has a visible crush on Naoto, who at the time is known as the Detective Prince. Later, whenever this is shown to be the opposite, Kanji... has little of a reaction. He doesn't sigh in relief because he "actually is straight all along!" - he's beginning to connect the dots, that he liked Naoto before, and that he likes Naoto now. That is to say, he liked it whenever Naoto represented as a male, and likes Naoto now that she represents as a girl, too. We can see this struggle plainly before the beauty contest:

"If you do, my doubts will finally be cleared" -- this, to me, comes across as desperation: he wants to be straight. He wants his Shadow self to be wrong, because being gay just doesn't ring a bell with him. Neither does being straight. It doesn't fit him, and he only knows two options: either to be straight... or not be straight.

He is shown to be relieved during the beauty contest, by quietly proclaiming how pretty each contestant is, and whenever Naoto doesn't show up for the final part, he is... quiet. That doubt is creeping in again, and he doesn't know how to grow comfortable with it.

The hard, and unfortunate truth, of Kanji's whole story is that he was born at a time where the term bisexual was treated as a naughty word. It wasn't acknowledged, and many people refused to accept that it existed. Kanji's Social Link ties directly into this struggle, with him making a child a doll, and instead of being chastised for it... the boy thanks him. He doesn't bully him, or ask why a boy is knitting a doll. And Kanji, in turn, doesn't question why a boy would want a plush.

Throughout these exchanges, Kanji grows more and more comfortable with himself:

Because... Kanji knows that his Shadow Self is a part of him. Maybe not to the extremes it portrays, but it is a part of him... and a part of him likes men, as well as women. He likes someone no matter their gender. He realizes, slowly, that he appreciates them all the same, as shown most literally shown with Naoto. Slowly, rank by rank, Kanji opens up: that his strength was used as a cover-up for his knitting, that he thought by being tough nobody would care about his other hobbies. That, while he identified with being tough, he didn't like how it was used: to indicate someone that couldn't possibly like the things that he liked. He didn't identify with that, and he didn't identify with liking everything the "other half" of him had to give, either.

So, at the end... Kanji learns that he doesn't have to pick a "side"; that he just has to be himself, and this self... is who he is, and who he wants to be, and who he is proud to be, at a time where bisexuality wasn't spoken of.

#homophobia mention #tbd. #Maybe? #specific ooc tag. #I tried to cover this as sensitively and as precisely as I could; so hopefully it's okay. #While I do believe Atlus... were probably being homophobic tbh; I do think Kanji's struggles with his sexuality are compelling #and I think it showed well how... awful people were then [and still are to this day]; and how such things can tear you between wanting this #and wanting that. The saddest truth there is that there's LOTS of people - actual people - with a struggle similar to Kanji's #They were raised during a time where men couldn't be emotional. And women couldn't like 'boy' things. #And you were either straight or gay; either a man or a woman; there was nothing outside of that or in-between. #Thankfully we're doing away with that year by year. But I felt like with his story it was important to emphasize how it was #during the early 2010's / earlier than that. #Yada yada. I'll write now.

[amaralionelli]

The first chapter is fluffed about as much as I can think of. The first chapter is always a struggle for me. As always, constructive criticism and feedback is loved and appreciated 💙

The train cars rattled beneath the soles of his worn,dusty boots, and the soft glow of the full moon hanging high in the sky above. 'It's best to travel at night,' his guardian always said, though Tobi wholeheartedly disagreed. Most of the other passengers were either asleep or doing some quiet activity to pass the time, which was frightfully dull if you asked him. His guardian was no exception. His sharp lilac eyes had been glued to a rather large, boring looking book, ever since they had left their home in London hours earlier. It was probably some boring detective story without a single drawing in it. The man had hardly spoken a word except to order some coffee and a few sweets for the two of them to share.

Tobi had just devoured the last of the scones when there was a knock at the cabin door. Yue, his guardian, seemed to pay no attention to it, or he didn't hear it at all, which would be strange. Yue could hear everything. Still, his guardian simply flipped the page of his book as if it were nothing. Then the knock came again. And again. Curious, he slid out of his seat and walked straight to the door. His hand was still a little sticky from the sweets as he touched the wooden panel, opening it just enough to see that there was, in fact, no one there.

“Going somewhere?” Yue asked without looking up from the pages.

“Bathroom.” Tobi lied.

Yue was quiet for a moment. "Do be sure not to bother the other passengers. I'd rather not have to deal with that again." He went back to his book, allowing Tobi to continue his search.

Tobi wouldn't promise that there was some stranger tapping at the door of their room after all. It was their job to help people and solve mysteries, and this was a mystery! It had to be another passenger playing a joke, or even an attendant who maybe mistaken their room for another's. He closed the door as gently as he could and turned his attention down the long hall of the cart. He was alone. The silence of the night was only broken by the train car rattling on the tracks. It was a flash of light that caught the attention of his emerald eyes. Through the window, he could see small sparks of light dancing through the forest they were traveling through. He was certain Yue had mentioned something about a forest, but that was all he could remember. His memory, admittedly, wasn’t the best.

He squished his face against the chilled window and watched the lights as they spun and swirled in the moonlight. Reds, blues, greens, and pinks. All the colors of the rainbow danced along the shadows of the trees. Tobi wanted to be closer. His footsteps echoed through the empty hall, and it wasn't long before he was sprinting. There wasn't a single soul out of their cabin tonight. Tobi made it to the very last cart and opened the door to let in the night before he realized that he wasn't as alone as he thought. Sitting on the bench of the last little red cart was an elderly woman.

Her long grey hair fell in braids down to the wooden floor while the rest stayed hidden beneath her colorful headscarf. She, like the dancing lights, wore all the colors of the rainbow in the many layers around her. The old woman smiled at him with a toothless grin. " Why, hello, young one, what are you doing out so late?"

Tobi rocked on his boots. "I wanted to see the lights. But it looks like they're gone now." He said, disappointed. There was just darkness and the single light illuminating the last cart. “Did you see them ma’am? The colorful lights?”

"Is that so?" She laughed. “Yes I did see the lights." The old woman pointed with her chin, out into the dark woods. She extended her tired hands out towards Tobi “Well, my boy, if it's the lights you want to see…" her wrinkled hand pressed softly against his face, covering his emerald eyes for just a few moments "You just have to look for them!"

As her hand pulled away, it was as if fireworks were going off in the forest. The rainbow of colors exploded between the brush and trees, making the forest brighter than the daylight sky. Tobi's mouth fell open, and he flew to the open window with an open smile. “How did you do that? How do you call them? Can you teach me?” The excitement was overwhelming. The boy was halfway through the window, holding his hands out in hopes the lights would warm his freckled skin.

The old woman held out her own hand to the lights. A small glowing red creature landed on her hand. “They are such shy things.“ She said in a soothing voice. “Be still. Be quiet. Be gentle. They will come to you.”

Still was hard for Tobi, but he tried his best. Holding his breath and straightening his body the best he possibly could. Just as the old woman said, a small green light landed softly on his waiting arm. It danced along his skin and made soft, cheerful noises. Tobi couldn’t take his eyes off the creature. “What are they?“

“Little forest spirits. They live all over the wooded lands in these parts. Not all can see them, though. Only the purest of hearts.” The old woman stood up, and for just a moment, she looked different, younger.

It felt like hours that they sat together playing with the lights of the woods and talking about the last year. More so, the old woman listened and nodded as Tobi told his stories. She would occasionally laugh or comment, but most of the time, she spent smiling at him. "So that's how we captured the Redcap. Yue said it was a sloppy job, but I thought we did okay. I mean, I could have lost much more than my pinky toe."

"You're a very lucky boy. " She said, ruffling his chestnut colored hair. " You've had so many adventures at your young age! Tell me more."

Something inside him told him it was time to leave. Yue called it an instinct and said he should always listen to it. "Well, I should be getting back to Yue. He'll probably be looking for me soon. But, it was nice getting to talk to you, miss…"

"Call me Tati, love." She opened her arms wide. Her many layers of colorful clothing made her almost look like a butterfly. "Thank you for entertaining this old woman for a while.”

"Miss Tati." He repeated her name. Tobi put his hands behind him and rocked on his heels. "Sorry miss Tati, Yue said not to hug strangers anymore.Not after the last time."

Tati hummed and smiled at him. “I understand, sweet child. You are a good young man to listen to your elders. Have a wonderful rest of your night, Tobias.”

[her-devils-advocate]

Don’t go where I cannot follow

♥. Genre: Slight angst, hurt/comfort

♥. pairings: Nate Sewell / Female Detective (Named)

♥. content warnings: Mentions of violence, hospital setting

♥. notes: Valerie will always follow her heart, leading her straight to Nate, protecting him whenever she can. Sometimes for the worst.

Thank you to my lovely friend @/eveningstar1516 for helping me with some of the different tenses. Especially during the nights where my brain just didn't want to work!

@agentnatesewell - You mentioned that you wouldn't mind being tagged for this during my WIP Wednesday post! I hope you don't mind still! (I hope its as fun to read as the WIP made it seem!)

♥. Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47899840

♥. Word count: 2059

A steady beeping echoes throughout the bright room, bouncing off the pure white walls onto the pristine linoleum flooring. The bright, fluorescence lights glare down at the figures within the room, highlighting the thick atmosphere surrounding them.

A figure lies still within the bed, the scratchy, thin covers carefully pulled up to her shoulders, rising and falling alongside her shallow yet steady breaths. The figure beside her sits slumped over the bed, resting his head against the less than soft mattress, his hand holding hers tightly -even in sleep. Too afraid to let go, as if he would lose her if he did.

They had been like this for a while, ever since Valerie had -once again- been rushed to the agency's medical wing. Nate was glued to her side the entire time, refusing to let her out of his sight as she whimpered with each small movement. 

His larger hands drew circles on her much smaller ones, anything to help distract her from the injections that had been given by Elidor. Circles turn into pictures before becoming small messages and "I love you's" with each increased heartbeat, worsened as the needles dug up painful memories and reminders before they had the chance to help her.

Their mission had been going well, a simple patrol that rapidly turned into an incident with a rogue supernatural. Something that should have been normal for them by now, if not for the way the supernatural went to attack Nate, the sharpened blade glinting dangerously in the night.

Only for Valerie to put herself in front of him, moving before he even had the chance to realise what was happening. 

He hates himself for reacting slowly. For reacting slower than their detective, who he loves more than anything and would happily give his life to protect, not expecting her to do the same.

What should have been a simple and routine mission had almost become the worst night of his life in the blink of an eye. He watched in horror as she froze on the spot, a pale hand placed over the rapidly growing crimson stain against her jumper, infecting the air with the sickeningly tempting smell of her blood.

She didn’t scream or cry. She simply reached out to him, stumbling slightly before her legs gave out, falling into his frenzied arms with a gasp.

The metallic scent flowed through the air, growing scarily stronger with each shuddered breath that escaped her, a guiding beacon for all those who dared to approach the scene. The cold moon stared down at them, causing the blood to glimmer in its dim light. Nate grit his teeth, the scent tempted his fangs with the sweet offer before him, an offer he feared he might have to take to save her…if not in that moment, one day. But could he?

What scared him more in that moment? The fact that he could lose her so soon, that what they had could end before it even had the chance to fully bloom? Or the fact that he considered giving into such temptations for her, that he would do anything, even reach the ends of the world for her?

He stared down at her, trying to blink away the tears that had gathered within his eyes. Valerie is stiff in his arms, her hands latched onto his bicep as if it were her only tether to this world, the fear that she might drift away should she let go overwhelmed her as the shock sunk deep into her system. Her eyes clenched shut as her body shook uncontrollably in his embrace.

She tried to speak, only for the words to get caught on the tip of her tongue, they rolled off and became sobs instead as he pressed shaking hands onto the wound -doing his best to stem the flow of her blood. His heart broke at the sound the action drew out of her, a weakly shuddered wheeze that would haunt his dreams.

He shook his head, gathering what little sense he had left to scream for help. His voice cracked with each word as he shouted for Adam to phone the agency now. Not caring about who else might have heard his wails, knowing his broken voice would reach Adam from his assigned location nearby. He didn’t trust his shaking hands to comply with his lack of technological skill to make the call himself.

He gently cradled her as tears painted his cheeks, slowing their descent as they reached the stubble lining his jaw before falling to the ground. He painstakingly counted each passing second until the medics arrived to rush her away, leaving him behind to wish upon every star that stared down at him.

Jade eyes slowly open, squinting accusingly at the harsh lights above, as if it was the cause of the pain tearing through her torso. She lets out a small groan as she tries to sit up, only to feel a strong hand hold her steady. Nate, having woken the moment he felt her stir, now stands beside her. 

His presence helps quell the rise of anxiety that simmers within her, Valerie had never been a huge fan of hospital rooms since the incident with Murphy, the fear hissing inside of her -almost as if it were a skittish animal- as she notices the IV within her hand. The needle within her hand. 

It takes her a moment to remember why she was in a hospital in the first place. More fear begins to flow through her as the haze in her mind clears, now audible to even non-supernatural beings thanks to the persistent beeping of the monitor beside her.

She glances up at Nate, noticing that his hair is dishevelled, more than she's ever seen it be, which is certainly not a good sign. Silky brown strands have fallen out of the neat bun he had used to tie it back, the signs of his distress clear as he runs his other hand through his hair, an action he must have done a dozen times by now.

As her vision adapts to the brightness of the room, she can see the way his cheeks glisten under the light. She can feel the way the hand on her shoulder shakes. She can feel the warmth his hand had left in hers before she had awakened. 

“Nate…?” Valerie’s quiet voice breaks him out of his panicked trance as his head snaps to hers, anguish and terror within his eyes as he sits down on the bed beside her, doing his best to be as gentle as possible.

“You really scared me there, ya rouhi. I thought that I had lost you, we came very close. Too close. If those medics had been a moment late…” He takes her weak hand within his, lifting it to place a tender kiss on her palm, sighing as she caresses his cheek. “Thank you for protecting me. But please don’t go where I cannot stand by your side, I don’t think I could withstand that. I don’t think I’m strong enough.”

He moves to wipe away the tears that she didn’t even notice running down her cheeks, tucking her hair behind her ear as he does.

“You’re not angry with me?” Her voice shakes with each word and she can’t tell if it's from nerves, the pain, or from the medication they have given her.

Nate sighs deeply, a frustrated sound that she has never heard from him before. She’s not certain if he’s frustrated with her or with himself. She’s not certain which she would prefer.

He twirls one of her inky black locks around his fingers as he considers her words carefully, mentally pulling apart each feeling that had rushed through him within the past 24 hours. Feelings that had left him numb until she had awoken, as if a part of him laid dormant with her unconscious state. A part of him that would sleep with her forever, should that day come.

“No, I’m not angry. I will admit that I was at first, when all I could do was sit here and watch you sleep, hoping that you would soon return to me…That you weren’t going to die for me. But it wouldn’t be fair to be angry at you when I would have done the exact same thing to save you. I also didn’t want anger to be the last emotion that I got to experience with you. Just promise me that you won’t do that again, please Val.”

“I promise. I’m sorry for worrying you, I just couldn’t bear the thought of losing you,” she gives him a watery giggle, a giggle that transforms into a shy smile as he raises a neat eyebrow at her- urging her to continue, “we really make quite the pair, don’t we? Constantly worried for the other, to the point of ignoring our own safety and how it would affect those around us.” At that, he chuckles along with her, the action feeling oddly surreal after the events that had just transpired. The jovial mood feels out of place, yet equally welcome, as their two hearts finally settle into a steady rhythm. 

“I cannot deny that. As Felix likes to remind us at any given moment, we really are made for one another.”

“Speaking of him, are the others here or is it just you? Not that I don’t want you here or anything! I’m glad that you were the first face I saw after what happened, I was just wondering if…you know…” Nate shakes his head, the action part affectionate and part exasperated as he props up a pillow behind her, helping her slowly sit up and lean against the headboard, wincing at the small hiss that she tries to hold back.

“Of course they are here, Val. They have been just as worried as I have. You are a part of this family and they care for you greatly. Rebecca is also waiting outside with them as well. They all refuse to leave until they have seen that you are alright with their own eyes.”

If he notices the surprise that flashes across her face, too quickly for her to restrain, he doesn’t mention it. Instead he simply guides her eyes to the other side of the small medical room, in the direction of the huge pile of gifts that had been left for her as she slept. Multiple get well soon cards litter the once empty surfaces, each paired with a selection of chocolates and numerous small animal plushies. How she has received that many while she slept, she will never understand.

The sight causes Valerie’s heart to flutter, what had previously been hard for her to believe now screams out at her as its meaning slowly sinks in. Her mother actually visiting her in the hospital, a family to call her own and a lover who adores her with his whole heart and more.

The thought provokes more tears to escape, rolling down her cheeks despite the calm expression on her face as she laces her fingers through his own. “I bet mum wasn’t too happy when she heard the news.”

Nate smiles sympathetically at her, knowing the upcoming conversation between mother and daughter could go one of two ways, despite the love between them.

“...I can’t say that she was. She was terrified when she found out, I don’t think any of us have seen her quite like that, not until we began working with you. You know that she loves you, you are her daughter so of course the news would affect her.” His sympathetic smile shifts into a mischievous smirk, causing a mixture of butterflies and concern to swim within Val. “But I’m sure the lecture that Adam has prepared for after your conversation with Rebecca will take your mind off that.”

He’s not too sure if he should be guilty or amused as her loud groan reaches his ears, even more so should she find out that Nate had helped Adam with the lecture itself, wanting to make sure this never has a chance to happen again. He stifles a small laugh as he wraps one of his arms around her shoulders, pulling her into a comforting side hug on the bed.

#♥. writing #♥. Valerie #twc #the wayhaven chronicles #nate sewell #detective x nate #female detective x nate

[wayhavenots]

hi have this totally unnecessary ramble about Avery's Book 3 "canon" journey

BFF: I have a save with Farah as Avery's best friend and one with Morgan as her best friend and in my mind both are canon lol. (This is irrelevant but in my most recent full playthrough, there were a couple of choices that had Nate or Morgan saying "You sound like Adam," so while Adam is nowhere near Avery's best friend, they are so very similar.)

Tina/Verda/neither: Initially Avery was on the nobody-knows route, but after playing through all of them...I feel like Avery getting the cold shoulder from one of the few people she's let in as a friend would really shape the, uh, Avery straight-up not having a good time vibe that I'm going for. Abandonment issues activate. Then the dinner with Verda truly feels like something high stakes for her.

Research/Combat: Avery's state of mind right after the Trapper/Annunaki thing is very "Oh so a fun new power, nice nice nice, I don't recognize myself anymore, sweet," so while I like the research scene more (the picnic! and the reveal about soul bonds which did not lead to a conversation about soulmates the way i was hoping but I digress)...I think she decides to work on her combat, in case she has any other secret physical abilities hiding that she needs to know about.

Bobby/Douglas: oof it's just so delicious for Nate to introduce himself to Bobby Marks and to tell him he's heard so many things ("All good I assume." "Not really.") and then to tell Avery that he would treat her better than Bobby during the research scene and then for Bobby to wish she didn't hate him...but also I liked the idea of an N-mancer having to deal with that Douglas decision and later (my headcanon) asking Nate if they did the right thing. That's all to say, each is equally canon in my mind. And she feels pretty conflicted both ways 🙃

Rebecca: Part of Avery's character is thinking she's not emotionally driven when actually she's incredibly emotionally-driven. (My favorite brand of arospec character.) She doesn't team up with Rebecca because, above all the resentment, she doesn't want her to get hurt. She wants to be closer...but knows in her heart that they never will be, because the fundamental issue between them isn't the secrets or the lies... it's Rook and the hole he left, which Rebecca is unwilling to fill, it's the fact that Avery wasn't what Rebecca wanted...and on some level Avery gets it.

Relationship Trigger: Of course there are several opportunities for Avery to stop resisting the call of the relationship with Nate, but I think she waits until the end of the book.

And it's not because she's finally fallen in love or because she's convinced that it's a good idea or opened up her heart... It's because she's terrified of everything that's happened to her, to the people around her, terrified of losing everyone (including Nate but also including Tina and Verda and Douglas and Bobby and Rebecca and UB), hates that her choices have consequences, she just wanted to look at stars, etc.

And it would make Nate so happy (in contrast to everyone she's made so miserable or put in danger), he's in love with her, what's wrong with her that she doesn't feel the same way, etc.

My initial plan going into Book 3 was that Nate and Avery would discuss the overprotectiveness/"I won't let you" comment, they would reach some kind of mutual understanding, and Avery would see that he doesn't underestimate her...and that didn't happen. But as it stands... The overprotectiveness/"I won't let you" was frustrating to her, but I don't think it sincerely bothers her in the end because, as much as she feels underestimated, she's having a hard time knowing how to, like, estimate herself.

(Also I know the narration is very adamant that the detective essentially feels the same way and is just holding back for no reason (actually there is somewhere where I think it says the very reasonable thing that the detective doesn't actually know that much about N). But!! I am indeed projecting some arospecness onto Avery instead!! or at least some escapist and people-pleasing tendencies that will make her really perfect for Nate when she really does start to feel the same way, which she will, eventually, just not yet.)

#avery lin #twc book 3 #twc b3 spoilers #i imagine it's going to be even harder to project this emotional journey onto avery by book 4 demo time and i'll have to rethink it all #but idk the tl dr is that ofc avery is not having a good time so she didn't make that decision for good reasons #i refuse to commit to avery being demiromantic but

[not-orphaned-account]

This request is for the 20 minute one shots. Matt and Mello discuss plans to go on a date but incidentally stay at home.

I've been wanting to do this forever but I burnt out before I got the chance, BUT! Here it is now :] it's a very adorable idea and was very fun to write. I may have gone over 20 minutes, but just enough to get it to some sort of natural stopping point, because I love the idea so much and wanted to do it justice. Thank you!!!!!

-

Mello would not consider himself a romantic person. The very thought of Valentine’s Day makes him cringe, and the more red hearts and pink roses he sees while out and about, the more he feels himself getting close to burning down the romance section of the nearest library.

However, he would consider himself the very best at everything, ever, which includes the best boyfriend. So, when Matt mentions they should have a date night on the first weekend off they’ve both had in weeks, Mello decides that he is going to plan them the best goddamn Valentine’s Day date his loser ass bitch of a boyfriend has ever seen.

It starts with a candlelit dinner at the most expensive restaurant he can find. They’re not hurting for money, given Mello’s high reputation and higher rates in the detective industry, and Matt’s mostly-legal tech exploits, so he makes a reservation for the night of Valentine’s day with no problem. He even looks up the menu online to plan what exactly he’s going to order for maximum-romance points, and to make sure they have something that Matt will actually eat, given he has the palette of a six-year-old.

Then, he books them tickets to a show. A movie may have worked, and certainly would be enough for Matt—he’s always insisting the simple things go a long way—but Mihael Keehl doesn’t do ‘simple.’ So after a lot more furious googling, he finds a highly rated Broadway performance taking place at a theatre in the heart of the city, and books them tickets for a private booth that they won’t have to share with any strangers. It’ll just be the two of them, and Mello smirks when he thinks of the possibilities.

The show is in the late afternoon, so they’ll be going straight to dinner after it finishes. It’s a short ride by taxi, both the play and the restaurant have raving reviews, and Mello is certain this will be the best Valentine’s dates in the history of ever.

-

It snows.

Because of fucking course it does.

Matt, who has no idea of his plans, doesn’t understand why Mello is screaming into a pillow on the sofa at three in the afternoon, and Mello doesn’t tell him, as he’s too busy screaming into said pillow. It wouldn’t be an issue—the show is indoors—but for some reason, today of all days has to be when the city’s water system throws a bitch fit from the sudden cold, and he gets a notification on his phone that his tickets have been refunded as the entire theatre, as well as the surrounding block, has been completely flooded.

No matter. It’s no matter. They’ll just go see a movie. Dinner and a movie. It’s more Matt’s style anyways, he probably would’ve been bored at the show. This is actually a good thing.

Mello sits up on the couch and looks over at an understandably startled Matt.

“We’re going to see a movie,” he says. Matt blinks once, twice, then nods.

“Okay. What movie?”

Mello pauses. He…has no idea. He hasn’t been to the movie theatre in ages—he hasn’t had time, for one thing, and he usually can’t stand the places, with their crusty seats and stale popcorn and the ever-present smell of butter. He doesn’t even know what’s playing.

So, he looks it up online. The movie theatres nearest to them are all playing different movies, and with his plans for the show already ruined, he’s twice as determined to pick something good. Matt sits beside him and rests his head on his shoulder.

“You gonna tell me what you’re schemeing, or do I have to spend the rest of the day by myself?”

Mello pauses. He didn’t even realize it, but he has in fact been completely ignoring Matt. He bites his lip and stares at his screen. Matt can be…indecisive. He’s never been the one making the decisions, preferring to let Mello call the shots. However, this is supposed to be their perfect date, and Mello supposes that it would help to get some of Matt’s actual input.

So they squish together on the couch with Mello’s laptop between them, carefully looking through the list of movies. Matt points something out that looks interesting, but Mello is skeptical, and after a few minutes debating back and forth, he decides to just pull up the trailer to get a better idea.

The trailer is shit, which Matt reluctantly admits, so they go back to searching. Watching the trailers seems to work the best to compare the movies, but after a few minutes of both of them trying to see the screen, Mello just pulls Youtube up on their TV to play them from there.

“Wait, which one was that?” Matt asks once the umpteenth trailer has cut to credits. Mello glances at the list he’s still got on his laptop.

“That’s the last one listed for Moxie Theatre.”

“The trailer was all over the place, I don’t even know what genre it was. Can you find another one?”

Mello does, pulling up the second listed trailer for the movie. Then the third. Then goes back to one of the first trailers they watched, because Matt says he can’t remember if he’s seen it already. Mello’s stomach growls—he was planning on getting a light snack at the theatre—and Matt makes a bowl of popcorn because he’s ‘been craving butter,’ as if that’s a normal fucking thing for a human being to say.

The movie trailers are actually pretty entertaining, and Matt suggests they look at a few for movies they’ve already seen together, seeing how they hold up to the actual film. The popcorn is wedged on the couch between them, but when it’s done, Matt scooches closer and rests his head on Mello’s shoulder again. Mello lets him, searching for another old trailer to play.

They both decide that none of the new movies playing today are as good as the trailers for ones they’ve already seen, and Matt looks so excited when he asks if their streaming service has Toy Story that Mello can’t exactly say no. 

It’s not until Buzz and Woody are stuck in the claw machine and Matt has his hand buried in their second bowl of popcorn that Mello remembers what it is they were supposed to be doing.

Frantically, he grabs his phone and checks the time, heart sinking into his toes when he sees that they’ve missed their reservation. There’s a snoozed alarm and even a missed call from the restaurant, which he must’ve missed when he put his phone on silent to hear the TV better.

He buries his head in his hands, feeling sick with disappointment. 

“Mel?” Matt asks from above him, and Mello hears fabric shuffling before he lays a mostly butter-free hand on his shoulder. “Hey, what’s wrong? We can watch something else if this is too sad.”

Despite himself, Mello snorts. He looks up at Matt, who looks genuinely concerned, which only makes him feel worse.

“You’re gonna think I’m crazy.”

Matt raises an eyebrow.

“Well, yeah, obviously.”

Mello rolls his eyes, but he lets Matt run a hand down his back anyway.

“I had this whole big romantic plan for tonight,” he admits. “Like, this kickass Valentine’s Day date, with a theatre show and a fancy dinner…but the theatre flooded and I got so distracted with the stupid movie trailers that I forgot about dinner, and we missed our reservation and now the whole thing is fucked up. I ruined our first actual date in ages.”

He hangs his head, glaring at the floor in an attempt to ward off the welling self-loathing he feels building in his gut. 

There’s a few moments of silence before Matt snorts.

“That’s it?”

Mello looks up, scandalized. Matt raises his hands and tries to backtrack.

“No, sorry, I’m not—it’s just—that’s what you’re so upset about? Mel, I thought something seriously bad had happened.”

“Did you not hear me?” Mello snapped, crossing his arms over his stomach and glaring at him. “I ruined everything.”

“Mello,” Matt says, and he sounds so fond that even in his state of self pity Mello feels his cheeks flush. “You think I give two shits about some stuff show and fancy dinner? Did you not see me eat Kraft mac and cheese for every meal for like, two weeks straight a few months ago?”

Mello frowns. “Well—”

“And honestly,” Matt continues, “I have the attention span of a squirrel on coke when it comes to shit like plays or whatever. That’s always been your thing, yeah? And even the movie, like, I had way more fun making fun of shitty trailers with you than I ever would’ve at some sticky theatre.”

He rests a hand on Mello’s knee and rubs circles with his thumb, giving him that lopsided grin that Mello thinks might be his favourite sight in the world. It’s Matt’s genuine smile, the one he reserves for him and him alone, and despite the failure of the night he can feel his heart lightening just a little.

“It’s the principle of the thing,” he insists, though his protests are feeling a lot less convincing then they did before. Matt rolls his eyes.

“Trust me,” he says, “this was probably one of the best dates I’ve been on.”

Mello can’t help but snort.

“You’ve never dated anyone but me.”

Matt grins and leans forward, kissing his cheek.

“That’s the best part.”

#death note fanfiction #mellodramattic fanfiction #mellodramattic #req #death note req #oneshot #1k #fluff #20 min

[undyingmedium]

Who is Anika's patron? What are they like? What is their relationship like?

Straight to the point, are you not? There's sooo much to discuss about the Deep One~

His appearance might be nightmarish to those who ignore his presence, but Anika grew up with him by her side, so she's more than used to the shadow tendrils spreading their reach on occasion, and the alien cracked skull that is his mask. It doesn't resemble any known living creature, and the shape of the mandible doesn't seem to match the one of its cranium at all, nor it seems able to move other than little tilts. And yet, his voice is deep and clear, collected and somewhat stern when he speaks, only to be cracked with sincere affection towards Anika when the fatherly attitude takes over the entity.

But who is he, really? Anika was promised an explaination in her youth when the time would be right; but the pressing investigations of a marine ally of her former party forced a complicated truth out, risking the wrath of the angels of Drana, the goddess of Light and first of the Erasian pantheon, who so strongly fought to banish him from existence centuries prior.

The water genasi known as Mikatosh, cleric of Rovan, now lies petrified at the bottom of a lake close to the city of Bazel, in Derum. He sealed a promise with the Deep One, Anika, and Eksirias, a powerful Seer that watches over Maera with the strongest forces of the continent: when the knowledge he gathered is safe to have, the Patron and his daughter will personally find him again to undo the curse and give him back his humanity, so that everyone can safely continue their lives on. Of course, such secrets were shared with Anika in hopes that she could become aware of the reality she was involved in: a special protection was applied to her instead, so that she could carry the secrets without being detected by the divine, and without losing her chance at fulfilling the pact she still strongly believes in. Besides, it doesn't matter who the Deep One used to be in his past life to her - not to the extent of turning her back on him and stand against him despite his real identity. She is still very much convinced of wanting her father in the physical world, enough to give part of her divine blood and her wings up to the cause during a special ritual which involved more than 30 people.

Today, she can proudly summon a tangible version of the phantom by her side, and fighting together has deepened their bond even further. (Summoner class of Pathfinder 2e was the best replacement for the Warlock, keeping the lore intact and developing it so delightfully~)

More fun facts:

~ At the beginning of their journey, when Anika was still a teen, she went through a phase of rebellion towards the Deep One because of the feeling of being just used. On multiple occasions, however, the Deep One proved his strong bond by putting himself inbetween her and danger: while it might have been a matter of interest over all in early times, he certainly proved his attachment when he and Eksirias saved her from insanity after being forced through a ceremony by an unknown cult praising Void, chaos and destruction. She has been calling him father since, and Eksirias a mother, despite her relationship with her is far less developed than the one with him.

~ While her duties tripled in depth, Anika often finds time to chat with the Deep One about matters of all kind, also personal ones now that she's allowed to discuss his past and condition. Her curiosity and thirst for knowledge have known little boundaries so far, and he's been happy to indulge ever since.

There is much more about him to uncover, but I'll leave you to find the details out one by one. Ask the right questions, dear Anon; pry into forbidden matters at your own risk, but don't leave any ask unanswered~

#headcanon #world of eras #the deep one #eksirias #mikatosh #bazel #derum #void ritual #backstory #drana #angels #rovan #*EXCITED mun noises* #answered #unprompted #anonymous #eldritch gallery #my art