#Complete Fic

[lucagray813]

Shadow Clones

Rating: Gen

Word Count: 3,132

Main Characters: Rumble, Savage, MK

Minor Characters: Macaque, Wukong, Mei, Sandy, Tang, Pigsy

Relationships: None, hints of Shadowpeach if you really want it tho

Summary: All MK had wanted was an explanation for why his clones had minds of their own, meeting Macaque's clones does not provide him with any answers.

Additional Tags: Hijinks & shenanigans, light-headed, Rumble & Savage are called Xīng & Huì

CW: None

Link to AO3 Version

----

"Hey, Macaque?"

The grunt of acknowledgement from the branch he was currently dozing on was all the go ahead MK needed, "So, you know how I've got some, er, unique clones?"

In a lazy drawl he responded, "Can't say that I do."

Undeterred MK continued, counting off on his fingers, "Yeah, I've got my food guy, my art guy, my porty guy but when I asked Monkey King why they were like that he said I should come ask you?"

He had been surprised that Monkey King would defer to Macaque on anything but given how gleefully he had, MK suspected it was less to do with any respect for Macaque's knowledge and because there was something embarrassing that was about to come to light.

The tip of Macaque's tail gave an irritated little flick before he sighed heavily. But he didn't even open his eyes as he raised a hand towards the sky and clicked his fingers, two shadows separated from him and travelled down the tree until they stopped in front of MK as two perfect circles. Unbothered, Macaque said to no-one, "Alright, have fun you two. Try not to traumatize anyone too badly."

MK took a cautionary step backwards as two forms rose from the ground and he looked between them with increasing alarm. Fully formed, they were clearly two clones but while the resemblance was undeniable they each had a distinctive sense of style.

The one smiling somewhat devilishly at him looked... Well, actually he looked really good. His hair, his outfit, his vibe - it was all so well put together. MK actually felt a little underdressed looking at him.

He was much preferable to look at than the other shadow monkey that stared at him with no emotion on his face whatsoever. His dress sense was simple, efficient and dark. There wasn't a spec of colour on him.

Wary, he called out to the original, "Macaque...?"

Macaque lazily raised a hand in the air and waved it over the brightly dressed clone first before gesturing to the rest of them in order, "Xīng, Huì - MK. MK - Xīng, Huì. Knock yourselves out."

Xīng grinned and bowed with no small amount of flair, "MK, the Monkie Kid. The pleasure is all ours."

Still unsure what to make of the situation, he did his best to be polite, even if the way Huì continued to stare unblinkingly unnerved him, "Er, yeah. Nice to meet both of you. You're both clones?"

Xīng stood and made his way over, throwing a friendly arm around his shoulders, "Sure are. How about we gather up your buddies and we'll put on a show for you?"

"What do you mean a- Gah!" MK startled at the silent appearance of Huì on his other side. He clutched at his chest as he unsubtly asked Xīng, "Is he, uh, I mean, does he...?"

Xīng patted his shoulder before forcing him to start walking forward, Huì walked silently beside them, "He's the strong, silent type. Don't you worry though, he won't do you any harm. Not as long as you stick with me."

MK edged ever so slightly closer to him before throwing a desperate look over his shoulder at Macaque.

He was not at all reassured by the grin on his face.

----

During the short walk back to where he'd left his friends on the beach he had learnt that Huì couldn't speak but that didn't seem to be a problem as Xīng could speak enough for two. MK had barely gotten a word in but, in all honesty, he'd been too focused on keeping a wary eye on Huì to really even try and offer any intelligent responses.

When the three of them emerged from the trees, it was not to the delight of everyone waiting for them.

Pigsy pinched the bridge of his nose, "MK..."

Mei was slightly less tactful, "Ugh, why are there two of him? One is more than enough."

Tang nodded decisively beside her, looking more than a little nervous. Sandy was the only one that didn't seem at all put off by the two renditions of Macaque beside him.

He ducked under Xīng's arm and moved closer to his friends, "I know, I know! I went to ask him about the clone thing and this was how he responded! So, I guess we're stuck with them for just now?"

Xīng commented dryly behind him, "You know, I'm beginning to think we're not welcome here. We didn't even get a chance to introduce ourselves."

MK turned around and did a double take, "When did you change your outfit?"

Xīng held up a corner of his coat and asked coyly, "Why? Do you like it?"

Mei walked up beside MK, and eyed the clones suspiciously, "Ok, so what's their deal then?"

"They say their names are Xīng and Huì, and I guess they're Macaque's equivalent of Porty MK?"

Xīng clicked his tongue, "You know, clones or not, it's pretty rude to talk about someone as if they aren't there. Can't you see how much you're upsetting Huì? He's a sensitive soul."

They all looked at Huì, who stared back with dead, emotionless eyes. Deciding it was better to err on the side of caution MK apologised, "Er, sorry, Huì? We didn't mean to upset you...?"

Huì didn't so much as blink but Xīng nodded, "That's better. Now..."

He disappeared into the shadows only to reappear sitting on top of the picnic table they'd set up, oddly in yet another new outfit, "What do you lot do for fun around here?"

Mei whistled, "Damn, that is actually one nice dress. Where'd you get it?"

Xīng just smiled and clicked his fingers. A miasma of shadow tendrils quickly wound their way up and around Mei and when they disappeared she was wearing a similar dress with her hair put up in a matching hairpin.

Mei had looked fairly alarmed at the shadows but it was almost immediately forgotten about as she picked up the skirt of the dress and started to turn this way and that, "Hey, not bad! You got it in green and white?"

A click and a flash of shadows later and she had what she requested. He even summoned a full length mirror that stuck out of the sand so she could check it out properly, "Damn, you even did my hair! Do you know how much of a pain it is to put up like this?" She turned to Xīng, "Hey, can you put it up in, like, a french braid bun?"

It was done in the blink of an eye and Mei was delighted, "You know what, I take it back, this Macaque has already outranked the original in my books."

Xīng laughed, "High praise. Anyone else want a costume change? What about you, big guy?"

Sandy actually looked a little hopeful, "Well, it's sort of hard to find clothes in my size... But I've always really wanted to try on one of those fancy three piece suits...?"

Sandy blinked down at himself before gasping and rushing to the mirror, looking exceptionally pleased with his outfit and posing this way and that before bringing his hands to his face, "I should put braids in my beard more often!"

Admittedly, a little won over, MK also looked towards Xīng hopefully. Xīng just stood up on the table and grinned, "How about that show I promised?"

They all had to dive out of the way as the shadows suddenly converged to raise something massive from the ground but they faded away to reveal an extravagant catwalk. Mei vibrated with excitement beside him, "Oh my god, yes! Hold on! We need music! We need a film crew! We need an audience!"

MK grinned and reached for his hair, "Coming right up!"

The only thing MK didn't have confidence in creating was a camera, well he could make one but he wasn't sure how they would actually get the videos from it, but Mei eagerly volunteered her phone. Entrusting it to the MK clone crew.

Xīng was clearly ecstatic about the additions to the stage and by the time they were backstage he was taking it all very seriously, directing clones and doing up hair and outfits as if he was born to do it.

Mei nudged MK, "Dude, this is totally Theatre Macaque. I bet he came into existence the same way Porty MK did."

He could totally see it, a shadow clone forgotten in a theatre hall that decided he was going to make this his entire personality. Honestly, MK was kind of here for it, so far he was way more fun than the actual Macaque.

Xīng was clearly both the star of the show and the director. No outfit was too outlandish for him and he absolutely went for broke when he struck a pose at the end of the runway. He would shout out directions for everyone else, demanding they be just as bold and brave.

It was a lot of fun but by the end of it they were sweating and exhausted. MK thinks they had all been taken aback by the dangerous look in Xīng's eye when they suggested they called it quits but it was quickly replaced by a cheerful declaration that they needed a finale - last walk down the aisle, no holds barred!

MK had sighed a breath of relief, for a second there he thought he was going to go all "the Porty never ends" on them, but it all ended on a high! Once MK had dismissed his clones, they had all gathered around Mei's phone to watch the highlights.

The review was cut short by Tang's frightened scream but to be fair to him, MK probably would have reacted the same way if Huì had materialised beside him like that.

Mei eyed him up, before addressing Xīng, "Alright, we get your deal, but what's with creepy here?"

Xīng smiled as he walked around and threw an arm over Huì's shoulder, "Creepy? Huì? What are you talking about? He's just a little guy."

Pigsy scoffed, "Oh yeah, he's a real charmer. The unnerving silence, the dead eyes, the total lack of emotion - he's not creepy at all."

Xīng grinned mischievously, "Oh? You hear that, Huì? Your natural charms aren't doing it for them. How about you treat them to a smile?"

The five of them couldn't put enough distance between them and Huì.

"Why does he have so many teeth!?"

"Oh my god, they're like knives!"

"Those eyes...! It's like staring into the abyss, into the unending void!"

Xīng looked entirely amused. He patted Huì's shoulder before approaching them, "Well, that doesn't bode well for the favour I wanted to ask you."

Bravely, MK stuttered, "Wh-What favour?"

"You see, Huì and I don't get to come out and play very often and you've all done me such a kindness by putting on a show. But Huì hasn't had a chance to have any fun yet."

Tang gripped Pigsy's arm, "What does he do for fun? Steal people's souls?"

Xīng laughed, "Of course not. What Huì loves more than anything else is a good fight! If you brave heroes would be willing to indulge him it would just mean the world to us!"

Mei seemed to regain her courage, "A fight? Against all five of us? A bit overkill, isn't it? I mean, I could totally take Macaque by myself!"

Xīng pandered to her, "Oh, I don't doubt it but who knows when we'll be let out again and Huì loves a challenge."

The five of them exchanged a look before huddling together, Mei kicked them off, "We could totally take him."

Tang shook his head, "No way. We're being baited. That... thing is straight from my nightmares!"

It took a little back and forth but eventually they turned back to Xīng, and MK spoke for them, "Alright, we'll do it! But on the condition we can keep all the clothes from the fashion show."

Xīng's grin was unsettling, "Deal." He clicked his fingers and a rack of all the clothes from today materialized beside them.

He then gestured for them to follow him, "Well, come on then. I know the perfect place for your fight."

Pigsy looked a little unnerved, "Why don't we just fight here?"

"Oh no, no, no. That would have been like having our show without a proper stage. You have to give Huì his chance to shine."

Warily they all followed after Xīng and Huì until they arrived at a large but empty hall hidden not too far from Monkey King's vault. The door creaked open to reveal a room in pitch darkness.

Tang immediately backed away, "Nuh-uh. No way. Not happening. I'm not fighting in the dark!"

Xīng simply clicked his fingers and a number of shadow portals opened on the ceiling, a single lightbulb hanging from a wire emerged from each of them to create cones of light.

They reluctantly followed the clones in as Pigsy gruffly complained, "You couldn't have gotten better lights?"

Xīng hummed, "We're shadow clones, I'm simply evening the playing field."

Despite the overwhelming odds in their favour, all of them were undoubtedly uneasy as they took up their positions under one of the spotlights, while Huì stood across from them just behind another.

Xīng leaned casually against a wall, "Everybody ready?"

They all nodded grimly, their eyes not leaving their opponent.

"Wonderful. One last thing then. Huì? Don't eat them."

MK let out a strangled, "Wait. What!?"

He saw Huì's terrifying grin for just a moment before all put two of the lightbulbs shattered above them, eliciting more than one terrified scream. The two that were left started to swing unnaturally.

The next five minutes could only be described as a real life horror movie. No amount of fighting ability could save them as one by one they were picked off, dragged into the shadows by horrifying flashes of teeth. He couldn't even run, walls suddenly appearing to cut him off and turn him around as he tried to escape.

In sheer terror he held a hand in the air and a ball of pure light erupted to banish every shadow from the room. He breathed heavily as he looked around to see his friends picking themselves up from the floor, shielding their eyes, while trying to figure out what was going on.

He startled as he heard Xīng shout, "We're outside! Lights too bright for us!"

Mei groaned, "It's too bright for us too. Can you turn it down MK?"

Tang quickly added, "Just a little! Do not turn it off!"

"Er, I'm not sure how?"

Pigsy just forged ahead to the door, "Let's just get out of here!"

Everyone scrambled after him and it was to great relief when they saw the blue sky above them. MK dismissed the ball of light and turned to the others, "Are you ok!?"

Sandy nodded, "Shaken up but not hurt."

The sentiment was shared, no-one had a scratch on them, but god knows none of them were going to sleep easy tonight.

He swung around at Xīng's voice, "Ah, what a performance! You five really know how to make a shadow clone feel alive!"

Mei was incensed and she started to match towards him menacingly, "How could you do that to us!? That was so messed up! We agreed to a fight, not a-!"

She stopped short as Huì stood in front of Xīng defensively. Xīng grinned over his shoulder, "Forgive him, he's a little protective. What were you saying?"

She didn't move closer but she was not deterred from letting her displeasure known, "I can't believe you would set us up like that! That wasn't a fight! It was a horror movie!"

Xīng did not look apologetic as he took a step to stand beside Huì so he could lean an elbow on his shoulder, "Ah, I'm sorry for misleading you but no-one ever lets Huì play with them if I tell them the truth."

Mei cursed him out as she stomped away, "MK, get these two out of here! I don't want to see their faces ever again!"

Xīng held up his hands, "No need to show us out. We've had our fun." He took a bow, before offering, "But for the record, we are genuinely grateful to you for accommodating us today. C'mon Huì, let's go."

They sunk into the shadows and disappeared.

----

Macaque sighed as he felt trouble reform on the ground below him, "Did you have fun?"

Xīng responded, "Oh, we had a great time. Shame we never get called for an encore but to be fair Huì is a hard act to follow."

He opened his eyes and peered down at Huì, "You take a bite out of anyone?"

Xīng answered, "Nah, he was good. The bird and rodent population may have taken a sharp hit today though."

Wukong better not give him shit for that, there's no way he'd sent MK to him and not known what he was getting him in for, and it wasn't Huì's fault that the hunger of the shadows he embodied couldn't be satisfied.

"You both done for the day then?"

Xīng stretched, "Yeah, let us out again soon though. We never even got to see Wukong - you know he's my favourite model."

Macaque raised an eyebrow, "I'm not stopping you."

"Next time. Huì needs a break. All this sunlight takes a toll on him."

He shrugged, "Fair enough."

The two sank back into the shadows and rejoined his magic. He just snuggled back against the tree, planning to finish this day as he started it - doing absolutely nothing.

----

MK couldn't believe what he was hearing, "You what!? How can you prefer Huì to Xīng?"

Monkey King made a face, "Ugh, Xīng is so annoying. Changing your clothes a hundred times a day, pestering you to put on a show, quoting poetry, randomly bursting into song. I'll take Huì any day, he's basically just a big puppy."

"He's literally a monster!?"

"A monster? Nah. The real monster is Xīng - he's so bossy! A real shame that the two of them are a package deal."

Momentarily distracted from Monkey King's terrible taste in shadow clones, he asked, "What do you mean?"

"Hm? Ah, Macaque can't summon just one of them. It's both of them or neither."

"What? Why?"

Monkey King shrugged, "No idea. But I wouldn't waste too much time thinking about it. Macaque summons them like once a millennium, usually just to annoy me. You won't see them again."

He couldn't say he was upset about that but he still couldn't get over Monkey King's preferences, "But Huì? Really?"

--End--

[A/N - I did my best to illustrate what Xīng and Huì look like here - the post also provides a few additional details about them both if you want to know more! 😁]

[discordantwords]

NOW COMPLETE!

Chapters: 23/23 Fandom: Sherlock (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Mary Morstan/John Watson Additional Tags: Post-Reichenbach, Alternate Season/Series 03, John Watson is a Mess, Mary Morstan is Not Nice, Bad Mary Morstan, Secrets, Lies, Pining, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sherlock Holmes Misses John Watson Summary:

Sherlock Holmes is back from the dead. Things only get worse from there.

Read it here on AO3!

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

Title: cruel summer | chapter 6

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Pairing: No outbreak!Joel Miller/Female Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)

Chapters: 6/6

Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Join a tag list

Summary: Joel takes a contracting job renovating a master bedroom and bathroom while the homeowners are away for the summer on a cruise.

He wasn’t expecting their twenty-three year old daughter and the thoughts he’d have about her.

Author’s Note: This is the end! Thank you all so much for enjoying this little fic that I have loved writing. Requests are open if you have anything you wanna see in the future 🥰

Additional Tags/Warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), age gap (23F and 38M), mild/moderate angst (resolved!), alcohol consumption, discussions of family dynamics, semi-public sex, unprotected p in v, oral sex (f receiving), slight fem dom?, dirty talk, pet names. Let me know if any are missing!

You don’t hear from Joel the next two days, save for the text he’d sent the night he dropped you off at your apartment with a broken heart. He said he’d fix this and god, you want to believe him. But silence doesn’t feel promising.

Your dad has called no less than twenty times since that night. You’ve let them all rot away in your voicemail graveyard. You don’t have the motivation to do much besides sit on the couch for your daytime crying and move back to your bed for your nighttime crying before exhaustion finally wins and you fall asleep.

There’s a knock at your door on the third day, but you don’t make any move to answer it. You hear the key turn in the lock and your mom enters the apartment.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she says gently, setting down an armful of groceries in the kitchen before sitting beside you on the couch, smoothing your unwashed hair from your face with a gentle hand. “I’d ask how you’re doing, but I think I know the answer.”

Tears prick at your eyes. “It hurts, mama.”

“I know, baby,” she murmurs. She pulls your head to her chest. “Have you heard from Joel? Or your daddy?”

“No, I haven’t heard anything from Joel. Dad’s called a bunch, but I…I don’t wanna talk to him, mama. He was so mean.”

“You gotta think about where he’s coming from. You’re his only baby, his little girl. He’s having a hard time separating the baby he used to rock to sleep from the woman who can make her own choices. And he reacted with the heart of a dad, not the brain of a logical man.”

You sniff. “That doesn’t make it any better.”

“I know. You don’t have to forgive him. I’m spittin’ mad at the man myself. But I just wanted you to know.” She presses a kiss to your head. “Now, help me put those groceries away. I have somewhere I gotta be in an hour.”

________

Joel nervously scrapes at the paper label on his beer bottle as he waits for his lunch guest to arrive. He’s been a wreck the past couple of days, trying to keep it together in front of Sarah while his mind wanders to you, your last words to him ringing in his ears.

I love you, Joel Miller. I hope you find it in you to not be a coward and love me back.

That’s exactly what he intends to do. He just needs someone on his side.

Which is why he texted your mom a few nights ago, asking if he could talk to her.

The woman in question approaches the table and Joel stands to greet her, holding an arm out for a handshake. She only rolls her eyes, pulling him into a hug that surprises him. When she seats herself, the waiter swings by and takes her order for a glass of Chardonnay before leaving the two of them to stare at each other.

“So. Joel Miller. You love my daughter, huh?” She asks. He swallows nervously.

“Yes, m’am.”

“And my husband was an asshole to you about it?”

He considers his response. “It..uh..could have gone better.”

She nods. The waiter drops off her wine glass and she takes a dainty sip. “Well. Tell me the whole story.”

So he does. He leaves out the more salacious bits, because your mom doesn’t need to know about what happened in her kitchen, instead focusing on how you drew him in with your sweet disposition and he was helpless to avoid falling in love with you. He tells her about bringing Sarah over and how you played with his little girl like she was the only thing that mattered in that moment. He talks about the trip to the aquarium. He mentions his stupid attempt at pushing you away.

“And I can’t do that again, m’am. I don’t want to. I told your husband that she’s the best thing that’s happened to me since Sarah was born, and I meant every word.”

The whole time, she stays quiet, sipping her wine. Occasionally, a small smile will pass across her lips.

“You know, my own daddy didn’t like my husband when he first met him. Thought he was a no good troublemaker. I think my husband forgets that he’s just as in love with someone’s daughter as you are with mine. And one day someone will love your little girl, and you’ll think they’re not good enough for her, too. It’s the curse of being a father.”

Joel nods, unsure of what to say. Your mom finishes her glass of wine before continuing.

“I think you should join us for dinner tonight, Joel. And I promise to change the gun safe code before you get there.”

________

Joel shows up at your parents house with a bottle of wine and enough nervous energy to power a small city. He feels like he might throw up as he waits for someone to answer the door.

Thankfully, it’s your mom. He hands over the bottle of Chardonnay he brought and she gives him a kiss on the cheek.

“Chin up. You got this,” she says, patting him on the shoulder and guiding him to the living room.

Your dad is sitting on the couch, a glass of whiskey in hand as he staunchly refuses to meet Joel’s eyes. He takes a seat in one of the accent chairs.

“My wife says I owe you an apology,” your dad says. “And that I need to get my head out of my ass before I lose it up there for good.”

Joel has to fight back his laugh, biting his lip hard.

“I just want my daughter to be happy. And she’s right, she’s an adult now. I forget, sometimes,” he continues. “She used to ask me to check for monsters under her bed and in her closet. Hard to believe that same girl is about to graduate college. Become a doctor. Save the world. All the best things I always wished for her. And I also used to wish she’d find someone to love her. And I can’t begrudge you for being that person. So, I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Your mom shouts from the kitchen. Your dad rolls his eyes.

“For being an asshole. And ruining your date,” he grumbles. He drains the rest of his drink.

“Thank you, sir,” Joel replies. Your mom enters the living room.

“Excellent. Now, come on, Joel. Let’s talk New Year’s Eve plans.”

________

It’s New Year's Eve and your mom showed up at your apartment just after dinner with a garment bag and a stern expression.

“You are coming to the party, young lady,” she insists. “Now get in the shower.”

You do what she asks with heavy limbs. You still haven’t heard from Joel. Your dad’s phone calls have stopped. You’re not exactly looking forward to seeing him tonight.

When you get out of the shower, your mom is wielding your blow dryer like a weapon. You sit at your desk while she styles your hair for you. You do your makeup under her watchful eye, then slip into the shiny silver dress she brought for you.

“Gorgeous. Come on. Let’s go.”

She hustles you into the passenger seat of her car and drives to her house. There’s a whole line of cars parked along the curb, and you groan at the idea of having to mingle with their friends.

“Alright, in you go, chop chop,” your mom says, shooing you from the vehicle. You enter the bustling house, forcing a smile as some of your dad’s business colleagues and your mom’s friends say hello, pulling you into hugs and cheek kisses.

Your mom brings you a glass of champagne, pulling you along at her side as she talks with her guests. When the doorbell rings, your mom politely asks you to answer the door.

When you do, you feel like you’re hallucinating. Standing on the front porch is Joel, dressed in a suit, his wild curly hair slicked back and his face clean shaven.

Christ, the man can wear a suit.

“Hey, baby,” he says.

Seemingly out of nowhere, your dad appears beside you. “Hey, Joel! Come on in, can I get you anything to drink?”

You look between the two men, feeling like you’ve stepped into the Twilight Zone. Have you missed something?

Your dad shakes Joel’s hand, all smiles, and your questions only multiply. Joel squeezes your hip as he passes by, following your dad to the kitchen for a drink. You trail behind them, confused as hell as you watch them chat like they’re old friends and your dad pours him a glass of whiskey.

“Uh, Joel?” You ask. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure, sweetheart,” he replies. He excused himself with your dad and you lead him upstairs to your childhood bedroom, his palm hot on your lower back.

In your room, you shut the door and take a deep breath. “Joel, what’s happening?”

“I fixed it,” he says, setting his glass down on your old dresser.

“You fixed it,” you repeat incredulously. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” he says, stepping closer and slipping an arm around your waist, “I’m all in. No more runnin’. No more secrets. No more bein’ a coward. It means I’m yours, and you’re mine, and nothin’ is gonna change that.”

You blink at him. “But…my dad—“

“Met with him and your mom. Had some good talks. He just wants you to be happy, baby. He did threaten that he knew a good place to hide a body if I hurt you, though.”

“Why didn’t you call me? Or text me?”

“Because when I came back to you on my knees beggin’ for forgiveness, I wanted to have everythin’ squared away.” He drops down to one knee, then the other, looking up at you with those big brown eyes of his as his hands grip your hips. “So, can you forgive me, baby?”

You smirk. “I could probably be persuaded.”

“Naughty girl,” he murmurs, trailing a hand up your calf. “You want me to earn it?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, voice already breathy and your core clenching in anticipation. “I think you owe me a real thorough apology, Joel.”

He grins at you as his fingers reach the hem of your dress, urging it up your thighs until it’s bunched around your waist, exposing your panties underneath. He gently pulls them down your legs, eyes glued to your face as he does. He urges you to step out of them once they’re around your ankles.

Tossing them to the side, he lifts one of your legs and situates it on his shoulder, opening you up to his hungry gaze.

“Missed you so much, sweetheart,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh. “Was goin’ crazy without you.”

“Less talking, more apologizing,” you demand, breathing already labored.

He huffs a laugh against your skin before angling his face toward your center, his nose brushing your needy clit as he licks a broad stripe through your folds, his tongue dipping into your entrance. Your head drops back against the door with a groan.

“You gotta be quiet, can’t have all those nice people downstairs knowin’ you’re gettin’ your pussy devoured, huh, baby?”

You bite your lip to hold your noises as he returns to his apology, licking and sucking and biting at you until you’re a writhing mess.

“Joel!” You whisper-shout, tugging on his hair. “Want your cock, baby, please?”

His lips are shiny with your essence as he stands, hands working his belt and fly open in quick succession. He presses a messy kiss to your lips as he frees his cock, an arm wrapping around your waist to lift you up, your legs automatically circling his hips. His hot length slides against your clit and you moan into his mouth, the sound swallowed in his kiss.

He presses you against the wall so that he can use one hand to position his cock at your dripping entrance, pressing his hips forward to drive himself inside you. Your arms cling to his shoulders as you gasp at the stretch.

“Christ, darlin’,” he whispers against your neck. “I’m not gonna last long like this.”

“Don’t care,” you reply, swiveling your hips in an attempt to get him to move. “Come on, baby, you’re not gonna make me cum standing still.”

Joel chuckles darkly, drawing back and slamming harshly up into you, the power of it knocking the breath from your lungs. He pounds into you harshly, his hands sure to leave fingertip shaped bruises on the skin of your hips and ass where he holds you to drag you over his length.

“Touch yourself, pretty girl, I need you to cum with me,” he demands. You slip a hand between your bodies, fingers circling your clit with little finesse as you work in tandem with Joel to reach your release.

It shatters over you in a consuming wave, your legs going tight around his waist as you lean forward to bite your scream into his shoulder. You feel his cock pulse inside of you as he presses in deep, his release warm as it fills you to the brim.

You slump against him, boneless in the aftermath. He presses a sweet kiss to your shoulder before gently lowering you to the ground, an arm looped around your waist to support you as you try to stand on shaky legs.

He tucks his softening cock away into his boxers, pulling his pants up. He locates your panties on the brown and kneels down to help you step back into them.

“Not gonna steal this pair?” You tease. He nips the inside of your knee in retaliation.

“Only because I’m not about to send you out in your parents house with my cum dripping down your thighs,” he replies, situating the fabric on your hips before pulling your dress back down over your thighs. When he stands, he pulls you into a deep kiss, his palms framing your cheeks. “I love you,” he says as he pulls back.

You grin at him, smoothing your fingers through his mussed hair. “I love you, too.”

________

You rejoin the party, your hand in Joel’s as he leads you to the kitchen for a drink refill. It’s nearing midnight, and your dad has turned on the TV in the living room to the ball drop in anticipation.

The man in question is in the kitchen with your mom, the two of them flushed from their drinks and the heat of the full house. Your dad gives you a tentative smile.

“Hi,” he says as the two of you approach. You release Joel’s hand to pull him into a hug, his arms wrapping around you tightly.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers.

“I know. Thank you, dad,” you reply. You don’t miss the shine in his eyes when you pull back and kiss him on the cheek. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” he tells you.

The noise in the house starts to grow as the ball begins to drop, the countdown echoed in chorus by the party goers. Joel hands you a glass of champagne, pulling you into his side as he starts to join in.

“3…2…1! Happy New Year!!”

Joel tilts your face to his, planting a kiss to your lips, in front of everyone. When you pull away, your mom tugs you into a hug and your dad shakes Joel’s hand, both men smiling.

And you can’t help but think how amazing it is that one summer can change your whole world.

Tag list: @huffle-punk @telepathay @johnwatsn @hopelessromantic727 @caatheeriinee07 @leeeesahhh @whereasport @pedr0swh0r3 @yellingloudly @dragon-of-winterfell @mydailyhyperfixations @liati2000 @endlessthxxghts @fake-bleach @thedeadsingwithdirtintheirmouths @lovebandrry @str84pedro @daddy-din @missgurrl @paleidiot @mattmurdock1021

[hollyethecurious]

CS AU: Pan Says... (13/13)

Summary: After waking up in a strange room with a naked stranger, Emma and Killian must endure the twisted game their kidnapper insists they play in order to gain provisions and avoid punishments.

A/N: We've made it! The final chapter is here. Thank you all for going on this journey with me! I hope is does not disappoint!

Much love to my @kmomof4 and @ultraluckycatnd for being amazing cheerleaders and betas! A shout out to all of you who sent me prompts. This fic would not exist without y'all!

Rated E / Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!  

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six  / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven / Part Twelve

Part Thirteen

“There has to be a way out of here,” Killian grumbled as they hit yet another dead end.

Never had he been more eager to get his Swan to safety. Sure, the man who’d been tasked to eliminate her may well be dead, but that didn’t mean she was out of danger. Cassidy was still lurking somewhere within the maze and Killian didn’t want to take any chances of him getting his hands on Emma.

“Killian?” Emma whispered softly next to him, both of them trying to draw as little attention to themselves and their position as possible. “What do we do if Neal finds us before we make it out of here? Assuming there is a way out.”

“There has to be,” Killian replied, bypassing her initial question and leading them down a new corridor. Or had they already been down this way? “Pan can’t trap us in here forever.”

“Sure he can.”

Killian and Emma spun around, stunned to find Neal Cassidy making his way around the corner they’d just turned. Where had he come from? That way had been a dead end. Hadn’t it?

A baseball bat was firmly gripped in one hand as he menacingly tapped the cap of it in the other. No need to guess the weapon he was meant to use in order to complete the grizzly task Pan had assigned him.

“Looks like Emma already took care of your dear old dad,” Neal commented, his eyes taking in the blood soaked into Killian’s sweatpants and smeared across his bare torso and chest. Shifting his attention to Emma he added, “I knew Pan would give you Brennan, leaving Killian and I to duke it out to the death.”

Killian let the man keep his wrong assumptions and tightened his grip on Emma’s hand, hoping she would do the same. Having his focus on Killian as both his target and would-be assassin allowed them the upper hand, even if they were both loath for Emma to be in a position to have to take the man’s life. Neither of them wanted it to come to that, but Neal seemed not the least bit concerned with the idea of cold-blooded murder.

“I’m gonna enjoy this,” Neal murmured darkly, continuing his advance as Killian and Emma both crept backward down the corridor, unwilling to take their eyes off the danger in front of them. “Do you know how often I’ve dreamt of killing you? How many times I begged Pan to let me be the one to punish you?”

Arriving at a T junction, Killian signaled for Emma to go to her right, hanging behind for a moment to ensure Neal did not lunge at them unexpectedly. She’d only just rounded the corner when a panel slid out from the wall, cutting him off from her completely. Forgetting about Neal, Killian spun around and yelled Emma’s name, desperately feeling his way along the panel for a way to remove it.

“Swan!” he hollered, but was unable to determine whether or not she could hear him. Her name had only just left his lips when a whooshing sound gave him a mere moments warning of Neal’s attack. Ducking out of the way, Killian nearly had his head taken clean off by the swing of Neal’s bat, which instead collided with the solid panel separating them from Emma.

“Quick bastard, aren’t you?” Neal muttered, taking aim once more.

His next swing was stalled when Killian demanded to know, “Where’s Emma? How did you manage to separate us?”

“Don’t look at me, pal,” Neal scoffed. “Haven't you noticed the walls moving before now? Hallways seal themselves all the time, creating new dead ends. It’s all part of Pan’s genius.”

“Awfully enamored with Pan, aren’t you?” Killian stated derisively.

“Pan is my family,” Neal shot back. “He’s always looked out for me.” Cocking his head to one side, a sneer crept over his lip as he taunted, “Unlike your own father who left you and your brother to rot in foster care. Left you to the mercy of someone like John Silver.”

Killian tamped down the anxiety and panic the mention of his abusive foster father’s name brought up. He could not afford to let Neal rile him up or make him lose focus. In fact, perhaps it was time to turn the tables.

“Always looked out for you?” Killian countered. “Was he looking out for you when he brought Emma here? When he let me have her instead of you?” Neal’s knuckles turned white as he clenched the grip of the bat tighter in his hands, his teeth grinding together in anger and rage Killian hoped he could work to his advantage. “Tell me, Neal,” Killian continued to taunt, “How was Pan looking out for you when he let me pleasure Emma? Let me caress her body and taste her cunt before fucking her to heights of ecstacy you were incapable of giving her?”

A guttural roar of rage preceded the wild swing of Neal’s bat, but Killian managed to side-step it before it made contact.

“Or was he looking out for you when he forced Emma to her knees to suck me off?” Killian said, throwing another barb at the man who was growing more and more unhinged by the second. “Or when she washed me, or kissed me, or fondled me, or rode me like a bloody goddess?”

Another savage swing broke the air, but when this one also missed its target, Neal, in a rage, rushed at Killian, nearly knocking the breath out of him as they both landed on the ground.

“You think any of that meant something? You think it means she’s yours?” Neal bellowed, striking Killian in the jaw with his fist when he attempted to get up, landing him flat on his back once more. “She’ll never be yours!” Neal roared. “She’s mine!”

Crushing the bat against Kiliian’s windpipe, Neal continued to rail at him. Perhaps he’d done too good of a job riling the man up in the hopes he’d make a mistake. It was clear, however, that Killian had been the one who’d made the fatal error. Frantically, he clawed at Neal’s hands as the man continued to spit vitriol at him, not that he heard a word of it, the sound of his blood thundering in his ears as a ringing began to swell from the lack of oxygen effectively drowned the murderous man out.

No! He couldn’t let the man win. He couldn’t leave his Emma at the mercy of Pan and Neal. He couldn’t… he had to… he must…

Killian’s vision began to tunnel, the black edges of oblivion quickly creeping in as the pressure in his face and head continued to build and his lungs screamed from want of air. With the last of his strength he tried anything and everything he could to dislodge the man from his chest and bat from his throat, but it was no use. Neal would not be moved.

The last vestiges of consciousness began to leave him, his final coherent thoughts of his Swan and the grief he felt as he mourned the life they could have had together. He wished he could see her one last time. Hold her. Kiss her. Tell her he--

Killian jolted from the blast of gunshots that rang out and his lungs suddenly opened, allowing him to draw in a much needed breath. His eyes, which he hadn’t even realized had shut, flew open in time to see Neal Cassidy being propelled backward by the force of the bullets hitting his chest, blood splatter from his wounds erupting in the air and hitting Killian in the face as he continued to choke and gasp for breath.

“Killian!” Emma screamed, her footfalls rushing towards him as he rolled over onto all fours in an attempt to get up. She practically knocked him on his back again, throwing herself at him and wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.

“Careful, love,” he choked out, settling back onto his heels as he knelt before her, threading his fingers through her hair and holding her as close to him as he possibly could. Once he was able to breathe again without a choking fit, he pulled back and looked over at Neal’s prone body.

“Is he… dead?”

“I unloaded the clip on him,” Emma told him, her tone giving away none of what she might be feeling over the matter. “So, yeah. He’s dead.”

“Good.”

She released a heavy breath in response, tears pooling in her eyes as relief seemed to engulf her. Cupping her cheek, Killian nuzzled his nose against hers and affirmed, “You did what you had to do, Swan. You saved me.”

“I tried to hurry,” she told him in a slightly hysterical tone. “I knew there had to be a way back around to you. I’m sorry it took me so long to find it.”

“Shhh, love,” Killian soothed, pulling her back into his arms and cradling her head against his chest. “It’s all right now.”

Emma’s eyes fell shut and a tear slipped past her lashes. Before Killian could wipe it away they were both startled by the sound of more panels closing in around them. Getting to their feet they frantically looked about for a means of escape, but there was none. All access points had been closed off to them.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Killian hollered, grabbing on to Emma’s hand for fear they might get separated again. “It’s over! We completed your tasks and survived! We won! Why have you trapped us in here?”

“Yes, yes,” Pan said in an unenthusiatic tone with a half-hearted slow clap accompanying his words. “You’ve won. Congratulations.”

“That's right!” Emma chimed in. “We won, so let us out! You said we’d earn our freedom if--”

“And I am a man of my word,” Pan replied, though there was clear reluctance in his tone. “Even if letting you go will end up costing me dearly. Think of the revenue I’ll lose from my guests when they discover their favorite playthings are no longer available to them?”

“Forgive me if I don’t lose any sleep over it,” Killian grit out through clenched teeth. “Something tells me you’ll manage just fine without us.”

“I suppose,” Pan sighed. “Part of the fun was watching your father and Neal suffer and stew while I played with you. Now that they’re gone…” Another heavy exhale filled the corridor as a panel slid open. “Well, I suppose a deal’s a deal. Pan says, follow the corridor.”

“Wait!” Emma called out, clearly unconvinced that he meant to make good. “This is really it, right? You’re letting us go? We’re free? Forever?”

“Of course,” Pan replied. “Unless you would wish to stay and remain a part of my--”

“Fuck that,” Killian said, pulling Emma along the corridor with haste, ready to be done with this god forsaken place once and for all.

The path led them back to one of the rooms they’d started in and a cold stone of dread dropped in Killian’s stomach when the door shut behind them.

“I knew it!” Emma exclaimed. “I knew it was a trick! I knew he never meant to--”

Her words were cut off by the hissing sound of the fog filling the room. Terror filled green eyes caught his own as they stared at one another in fear.

“K-Killian?” Emma stammered. “Do you… do you think he means to--”

“Relax,” Pan’s voice exasperated from the speaker. “It’s only going to knock you both out. I can’t have you remembering any details that might lead the authorities back here, now can I?”

A shuddering exhale of relief left Killian’s lungs, but it was replaced with a fresh breath of panic. Where did he mean to take them? Would they remain together or would he dump them back where he’d had them grabbed that fateful night?

“Swan,” Killian said desperately. The air around them was already filling with the noxious choking gas and he knew they didn’t have much time. “I’ll find you,” he promised. “If when we wake we aren’t… I swear I’ll find you.”

“I know you will,” she said, clinging to him as she nodded furiously. “Or I’ll find you. We’ll find each other.”

“Aye.” Pressing his forehead to hers, he lowered them to their knees, not wishing for either of them to become injured when they eventually lost consciousness and fell to the floor.

“Killian, I…” Emma gazed up at him, a sentiment he’d longed to hear swirling in her jade depths as the words began to form on her lips. “ I lo--”

“Don’t,” Killian said, cutting her off. “Not here. Not like this.” Taking her face in both hands he pleaded with her, “Tell me when we’re free. Tell me after… after you’ve found me or I’ve found you. Please, love.”

“As you wish,” she slurred out, her body becoming too heavy for his weakened arms to hold. Together, they collapsed to the ground, their bodies entwined with one another as darkness pulled them under.

~/~

A horn blared from the street outside the window jarring Emma awake. Bolting upright, she was stunned to find herself in her apartment, the air thick with two months worth of dust collecting on the surfaces. Glancing down to assess her physical state, she was again taken aback. Someone had dressed her in the very clothes she’d been wearing when she’d disappeared. The same tight jeans, the same gray tank top, the same red leather jacket, the same tall boots, even the same ponytail, she realized, reaching back to run a hand over her hair.

Out of instinct she called out for Killian, hoping against hope he might be somewhere in her apartment as well. After a very short, quick search - her place was tiny with only an open concept living and kitchen area, a bathroom, and a bedroom - she was devastated to discover she was alone.

Patting at her pockets, she found her phone tucked away in one of the interior ones of her jacket. A curse fell from her lips when she tried to unlock it. The thing was completely dead. Rushing to her bedroom, she started tearing it apart in search of her phone charger, all the while trying to decide who she should attempt to contact first.

Obviously, she needed to find Killian, but there was also David and Mary Margaret to consider. They’d been through hell and she didn’t want them to suffer a moment longer than they had to. Not to mention, the police had to be notified, she was probably gonna need a good lawyer, she was desperate to find out if Henry had indeed been returned to his mother, it would probably be a good idea to have a doctor check her out, but out of all of the concerns and worries spiraling through her brain, the thing that continued to drive her as she searched for her damn phone charger was Killian.

She had to find Killian.

Someone started pounding on her front door, causing Emma to freeze. As the assault against her door continued, Emma realized there was one thing that had not been returned to her from the night Pan had her taken.

Her gun.

Looking about for something she could use as a weapon, Emma froze again when a voice began to accompany the banging.

“Killian?” Sprinting to the door, she didn’t even check the peephole before throwing it open.

Hand still raised, ready to set another round of knocks on the surface of her door, Killian stared back at her with equal disbelief and elation.

“Swan,” he breathed, barely able to complete the exhale before Emma launched herself into his arms.

He struggled to keep hold of her and make his way into her apartment as she wrapped her legs around his waist and peppered his face with kisses.

“How… How are you here… How did you… find me so fast.”

“It was Pan,” he muffled against her lips, causing her to flinch back.

“What?”

Setting her back on her feet, he reached into the pocket of the jeans he wore - tight fitted jeans paired with an equally tight black shirt, charcoal colored waist coat, and a black leather bomber style jacket - and produced a familiar looking folded piece of paper.

Closing the door as she took the message from him with trembling fingers, Killian recited the words as Emma read them.

“Pan says… find her.”

Included on the paper was her full address.

“Well,” she said, wetting her lips and handing the note back to him. “Good thing you did, because tomorrow I’m moving to an unregistered address.”

Killian chuckled and they were back in each other’s arms, lips sliding and tongues tangling as their hands clung to the fabric of the other’s clothes.

“You’re alright? Truly?” he murmured in the space between them when they broke apart for air.

“Yes,” she assured him. “But I’m not sure how long I was out. I only woke up a few minutes before you arrived.” Pulling back further, she gazed up at him and asked, “How did you get here so fast?”

With a stunned expression, as though he himself hadn’t quite gotten over the shock of what he was about to relay to her, he said, “I live just on the other side of town.”

Emma was struck by the fact they never once talked about where they lived. All of his stories had been of his life back in the UK, having only mentioned once in passing that he’d moved to the US for a fresh start after his court martial.

“After I woke up and saw the note, I raced over here. Breaking several traffic laws in the process, I’m sure.” Taking her face back into his hands, he caressed the apples of her cheeks with his thumbs. “I had to see. I had to see for myself that you were alright.”

Reaching up, she placed her hands over his and closed her eyes, letting his touch and the comfort of his presence wash over her. When she opened her eyes again, she led them to her sofa, asking, “What about Liam? Or the police? Have you--”

“I called Liam on my way here,” he told her. “He’s booking the first flight out.”

“I guess I half expected him to already be in the States, working with the police or at least connecting with David and Mary--”

“Aye, he did all that,” Killian added, cutting her off so he could relay what Liam had told him over the phone. “After our phone calls to them, Liam and David and Mary Margaret were in contact with one another immediately and he came here to help them convince the police to take up the case again. Unfortunately, his leave ran out and he had to go back, but he said he would reach out to David and Mary Margaret, as well as the detective that’s working our case, to let them know of my return.” With knitted brows he looked around and said, “I’m surprised they aren't blowing up your phone or already at your door.”

“My phone is dead.” She nodded at the coffee table where the useless device was still laying, then glanced around once more as she said, “I was looking for the charger when you…” Emma returned her gaze to his, not wanting to take her eyes off him for fear he might simply disappear. Shaking off the absurdity of that feeling - while trying to convince herself it was absurd - Emma cleared her throat and informed him, “David and Mary Margaret live more than an hour away, so… we have a bit of time before they come barging in.”

“Aye,” Killian acknowledged. “And Liam asked that I wait to go to the station until after he arrives. He uh… he wants to be here. To support me through…”

“Of course he does,” Emma said, running her hand up and down his arm in a supportive and comforting manner. “He’s your brother and he loves you.”

Killian stood and started to pace, his hands sweeping through his hair over and over again. “I’m not sure what I’m going to tell him,” he confided. “About what we’ve been through. About what we… what I had to do in order to gain my…” Stopping dead in his tracks he looked over at Emma with mournful eyes and asked, “How am I going to tell him about Brennan? How do I confess to him that I killed our father?”

Emma sprang up for the couch and wrapped her arms tightly around his middle. “You didn’t kill him, Killian. You weren’t the one responsible for his death. And regardless, you won’t have to face it alone. You won’t have to do any of this alone.” Craning her neck, she captured his gaze and reminded him, “We will get through this the way we’ve gotten through everything else. Together.”

“Aye, love,” he expelled on a relieved breath, crushing her to him. “Together.”

After a few more minutes of simply holding one another, Killian loosened his grip and chagrined, “I’m sorry, Swan. I know I’m not the only one facing a daunting amount of trauma to work through.” Taking her hands in his, he brushed his thumbs over her knuckles, his Adam’s apple bobbing heavily before he spoke. “I know now that my father sacrificed everything to protect Liam and me. That he gave up his life to ensure I had a future.” Gently, he placed her hands against his chest and cradled them there, flicking his gaze up to meet hers, the intensity swirling in those forget-me-not depths nearly drowning her. “And I damn well intend to have one,” he murmured fiercely, their lips now only a hairsbreadth apart. “I know you must have your own trepidations about entering back into the world, but I want you to know that I will be by your side. For all of it. Always.”

“I know,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his and losing herself in the fervor of his kiss and the promise it left simmering between them.

After taking a much needed breath, Emma burrowed her face into his chest, refusing to let go as she tightened her arms around him. “For now though?” she implored. “For the little bit of time we have before David gets here and goes all Nolan, or before the police descend with their questions and interrogations, or before your brother arrives and I have to worry about earning his approval…” Killian chuckled at that, giving her a comforting and commiserating squeeze. “Can we just… do this? Can we just… be? Can we just leave the world outside for a little bit longer? I just want you to hold me. Can you just hold me and let me forget about everything else for a while?”

“Aye, love,” he murmured into her hair. “I can do that.”

The tightening of Killian’s arms around her alerted Emma that there was something she needed to do first.

“Um… actually,” she said apologetically, wiggling out of his embrace and shooting him a slightly embarrassed look. “Real quick, I need to um… use the restroom. Sorry.”

Killian chuckled again and fully let her go. “Go,” he said in an amused breath. “Take care of necessities while I make myself useful and get us some tea.” Waggling his brows at her he added, “Then we can cuddle up with a cuppa until the masses arrive.”

Emma smiled and threw out instructions of where to find things as she made her way to the bathroom. When she reached the door, she paused and turned back.

“Oh, and Killian?”

“Aye?”

Drawing in a cleansing breath, she declared, “I love you.”

He whirled around from the cabinets and beamed at her, elated. “And I you, Emma,” he murmured back, clearly torn between taking her in his arms again and letting her continue on with what she needed to do. “And I you.”

“Hold that thought,” she told him with a coy smile, her hand pressed against the bathroom door while her attention remained focused on him for a second longer. Watching him smile that adorable boyish grin as he went back to puttering around her kitchen, Emma placed her other hand over her chest. Her heart was full and feeling as though it might burst from relief and joy and hope and a certainty that settled deep within her.

They were going to be okay. There was a lot for them to face and get through and overcome, but… he loved her and she loved him. They were going to be okay.

Swinging the door open, she stepped into the bathroom, then stopped short with a gasp falling from her lips that took her elated smile with it.

“Oh, my God!” she exclaimed before clamping a hand over her mouth.

Killian’s rushed footfalls were accompanied by his frantic tone as he demanded, “What is it? Swan, are you--”

She flicked her gaze up to the mirror, her face white and her eyes wide as saucers. When he joined her his attention was on her reflection, but then followed her gaze as it returned to the counter, and the note laying there.

A note she somehow had not seen earlier when she’d quickly checked the bathroom for Killian.

A note that was sitting atop a very distinctive object.

“Is that…”

A pregnancy test.

Emma nodded and they both leaned down to take a closer look. Hands shaking, Emma picked up the stick and a shuddering breath left her lungs as Killian read the scrawling words that had been penned on the paper.

Pan says, congratulations are in order.

The End

(cue evil laugh)

Tagging the Curious Crew: (add to tag list)

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[edenwolfie]

’Til our compass stands still by edenwolfie

A Hualian Canon Divergence AU

After getting lost in Ghost City, Xie Lian bargains away years of servitude to the Gambler’s Den to help a man in need. He dons the robes of a worker and hides his face and life behind an enchanted mask, protecting himself from the city’s denizens. Xie Lian finds an unexpected home in Ghost City before he ever sees the lord of it, the infamous Hua Cheng. When he finally does, something about himself seems to catch the attention of the Ghost King, slowly striking up an unusual friendship. Xie Lian must figure out how to navigate his burgeoning feelings, how to keep his identity to himself, and how to get over a ghost so clearly in love with someone else.

Fandom: Tian Guan Ci Fu / Heaven Official's Blessing

Relationship: Hua Cheng/Xie Lian

Rating: Explicit & No Archive Warnings Apply

Word Count: 178k (complete)

Characters: Xie Lian, Hua Cheng, Yin Yu (background), OCs

Additional Tags: Ghost City, canon divergence, different first meeting (you know what I mean), slow burn, secret identity, identity porn, mutual pining, angst with a happy ending, fluff, friendship, found family, first kiss, first time, original characters, canon-typical violence, discussion of suicide, PTSD, panic attacks, masturbation, book spoilers, hurt/comfort, semi-public sex.

[porcelana-r0ta]

Almost Saved You With Prayer

Fandom: Trash of the Count's Family

Relationships: Jour Thames/Deruth Henituse, Jour Thames & Original Cale Henituse

Word Count: 1745

Summary: When her son is born, his Rings are strange, and Jour is heartbroken.

Ao3 Link: [Here]

Her son’s birth is a long and painful one, but it is worth it when a bundle of soft fabric is placed gently in her arms, her little baby still crying angry tears. She’s so in love with her child and exhausted from delivering him that she doesn’t immediately notice the Rings of Life that circle around him in concentric, overlapping bands. 

“Cale,” she says, her voice hoarse from her own screams. “Cale. His name is Cale.” 

“A perfect name for the heir of the Henituse County,” the midwife says kindly. “Shall I send for the Count?” 

“Yes.” She’s breathless. Starstruck by the soft red baby hairs on her newborn’s head. He’s still crying, but she doesn’t care. She just loves. 

“As you wish, Countess.” With a bow, the midwife leaves, and not even a minute later, her husband comes running in. 

“Jour,” he says, panting, his eyes wide and full of wonder. He is quickly at her bedside, his gaze darting from his son to his wife. “The baby?”

“His name is Cale,” she says. “He wants to meet his father.” 

Deruth’s hands tremble as he takes Cale from her. One hand under the baby’s body and the other under his head, supporting the weight that Cale can’t hold up yet. 

“Hold him closer to your face,” she instructs, “so he can see you.” 

Deruth follows her instruction, and something in Cale stalls. His sobbing devolves into sniffles, and then ceases altogether, hazy little eyes blinking imploringly up at his father. 

Her husband is suddenly in tears himself. 

“Cale,” he says, and his tears fall. “Our son, Cale.” 

“Our son.” Jour smiles the words, safe and happy in her mouth. “We’re parents now.” 

“We are.” Deruth lifts the baby just a little higher and lowers his forehead to Cale’s. “Gods, Cale. Mommy and Daddy will always be there for you.” 

Her smile goes a little smaller at that. 

“Yes, we will.”

xxXxx

The next day, when Jour’s brain is no longer flooded with endorphins and exhaustion, her closest maid, Amelia, hands her Cale, and Jour finally notices the Rings around her baby boy. 

They start from the chest, as everyone’s Rings do, and then expand outwards, one for every year of life the person will experience. Cale’s Rings are healthy and bright silver, normally reassuring, if not for the fact that there are three sets of Rings. One is the healthy and bright set, another is a dim set of flickering gold, and the last is a rusting brown, sick in its life. 

Her breath catches in her throat, and if she were not in bed, she would have surely collapsed. 

“My Lady?” inquires Amelia, her tone cautious. “Is everything alright?” 

“Oh, yes,” she says. “I was… I was just struck by the wonder that is my baby.”

“He is lovely,” Amelia says happily. “The County is surely blessed to have him.” 

“Yes,” Jour agrees. “Amelia, please give me a few moments alone with my son.”

“Yes, my Lady.” And Amelia bows out, leaving Jour to stare at the two sets of Rings, and how the first set cuts off so abruptly and violently in slivers of silver. 

“Oh, my baby boy,” she whispers in the loneliness of her bedroom. “What happens to you?”

She reaches out, her hand shaking, and she latches onto that broken Ring, the fortieth band. Her fingernails dig into the noncorporeal form.

Show me, she commands her Ancient Power. Show me everything.

She sees blood and fire and agony and regret. The tear of flesh and bone. A figure kneeling in blood. And she hears weeping and screams and the clash of blades against blades and armor alike. 

And then she hears it: 

“Do we have a deal?” 

“...We do.”

She comes out of the vision crying for her son. She can’t see through her tears. 

“Cale, my baby.” She places her hand over her mouth to muffle the sobs. With her other hand, she pulls Cale to her chest, as if to bury him there forever and protect him from that wretched future. “No! No, please, no, not my baby....”

xxXxx

When Jour was a child, she had a brother fourteen years her senior. His name was Ashur, and by the time she was capable of storing memories, he was married with a son of his own, 

“Jour,” he said once when she was sighing over a boy at age fifteen. “Don’t be too excited. We are Thames.” 

“I know,” she replied, annoyed. Little sisters were always annoyed at older brothers, no matter the age difference. “I can still like them.” 

He gave a sad little smile, “Yes, you can. Perhaps I was too harsh. You won’t always be able to enjoy this time, after all.” 

She wrinkled her nose, “You sound all old, Orabeoni.” 

“I’m decently old, for a Thames.” 

“Our parents are older.” 

“You and I both know that Mother and Father are the exception, not the rule.” 

Her chest became heavy, and Ashur continued, “Time gives the Thames enough mercy to live on.”

“I know,” she whispered, and she pretends not to see the way Ashur’s thirtieth Ring breaks into red sparks of nothingness. 

xxXxx

The maids think she has postpartum depression, and she doesn’t know how to explain herself, so she doesn’t correct them. She just continues to pour herself over her old Thames texts, searching for any way possible to spare her son from his pain. 

By the time he’s a year old and Deruth tearfully begs her to take care of herself, she has to start looking for a different path. 

She pulls aside Head Butler Ron Molan, who’d been hired a year and a half ago. 

“Ron,” she says. She bounces her son on her hip to keep him from being fussy. “I’m sure you’re aware that Henituses don’t hire just anyone.”

“Of course, my Lady. This Ron is pleased to have a job here so that his son might be raised well.” 

“That’s good.” Jour plays with her son’s red hair that matches her own. “Ron. I know what the Molans used to do on the Eastern Continent.” 

“Ho?” His voice is suddenly dangerous and quiet, but Jour knows him, knows his Rings and his son’s Rings, and she thus knows she will be fine. 

“I want you to protect Cale,” she says. She looks up from her son’s hair to meet Ron’s eyes. “Protect my son, Ron, and you and your son will never have to run again.” 

He relaxes just a bit, but it’s enough. 

“This Ron would never do otherwise, my Lady.” 

“Good.” She sighs, presses a kiss into Cale’s hair, and says, “Thank you. Thank you, Ron.”

xxXxx

There’s not much else to do after ensuring her boy will live as long as possible, somehow until age forty and eighteen and seventy-three all in one. The Thames studied time, not space, but there are still enough cross-referenced texts in her library that she knows it’s not regression but transmigration. 

Her baby will be leaving his family, not just like her, but it will be enough. 

When he’s four years old, she runs her index finger around his fifteenth silver ring, the future flashing across her mind’s eye, and thinks, Well, not much of a family. Not much of a father.  

She asks Deruth to always be there for her child, to say no when he needs it, and Deruth just laughs. 

“Well, he’ll have everything he’ll ever need!” he says. “He’s a Henituse, and your son, at that. How can I say no to your visage?”

She gives a wan, watery smile. That might have been nice to hear before Cale was born, before she saw his future. 

“We can’t let him be too spoiled, dear.”

Deruth embraces her from behind, wrapping his hands around her waist and pulling her into his chest. He buries his face in her red hair, “Well, no.  But he deserves it.”

“It would be a disservice to our son.” 

He sighs out a laugh, “You’re right. You always are. No, we won’t spoil him.”

“You’ll say no when he needs it? When it’s best for him?” 

“Yes, of course. Especially if it’s best for him.”

“Good,” she smiles brighter. 

Later that night, she creeps into her son’s room. At four, he sleeps soundly, no longer a colicky newborn or a toddler in pain of teething. She rests her finger on his fifteenth silver ring, and weeps. 

Nothing has changed. Her husband is a liar. 

Jour doesn’t know what to fucking do. 

xxXxx

Jour runs her fingers around Cale’s fifteenth and eighteenth silver rings and tries not to feel betrayed whenever she looks at her husband or the Molans. 

It’s not their fault her son is so purely Thames that they believe his act without any training.

xxXxx

Jour’s son is eight and she is on her last Ring. She’s done everything she can for him and still she’s done nothing. There’s only one thing left to do.

One night, while Deruth is out on business in the city nearby, she cries herself to sleep. 

When she awakes, she writes a letter. 

“To the person who will be living in my son’s body…” She accepts what must be done. The man—White Star—in her son’s future cannot be allowed to acquire her full Ancient Power.

xxXxx

Next week, when Jour leaves for her trip to Harris Village, she kisses her husband. Then, she hugs her son, tiny and small and so full of love that he would destroy himself for children sprung on him with no notice, and she only barely holds back her tears. 

“Goodbye, Mama. I love you!”

“And I love you, Cale.” She holds his face, rubbing her thumbs under his brown eyes, and he smiles trustingly up at her, believing that she’s coming home healthy. 

Her heart breaks. She hugs him again. 

Deruth reaches out to hold her hand while she hugs Cale, and she takes it, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before letting it drop. 

She loves him, too, and she would choose him in every lifetime. But she doesn’t want to touch him when she knows what he will do to her son.

Long after the carriage has left Rain City’s limits, she weeps. 

She is leaving her son with people who will let Cale rot alone in alcoholism and self-hatred, the joke and scorn of noble and common society alike.

Maybe that makes her worse than all of them.

[anna-hawk]

Red Blossom

Based on a deliciously hot fanart by @nkeiiin, whose art never stops inspiring me 🧡🧡🧡

Frank Castle x Matt Murdock

Summary: Frank Castle has an auto repair shop next to flower shop owner Matt Murdock. Frank finds himself regularly observing the florist moving easily through his plants and flowers. They haven't talked a lot, but after they mutually help each other out, they slowly get closer.

Rating: E 🔞 // Status: 6/6 // Current WC: 26,9k

Tags and warnings: Alternate Universe – No powers, Flower shop AU, Mechanic!Frank, Florist!Matt, slow burn, friends to lovers, fluff, explicit content, semi-public sex

Read it on AO3

Excerpt:

Frank was sitting at his desk in the manager’s office, and taking a long drag from his mug of coffee while he browsed through the more urgent invoices he had to send out. A loud, metal sound coming from outside his repair shop had him lifting his head and turning it towards the source of the noise. His office’s window was giving onto the corner of the narrow alley running to one side of his building. Right next to Frank’s shop and across that alley, was a flower shop, where Frank was currently watching a man in the process of rolling up the rolling shutters. Frank checked the time on his wristwatch and smiled to himself; 7.30 on the dot. The flower shop owner always arrived at the same time, right on time, five times a week. Since he tended to get to work before 7AM on most days, Frank had had the time to notice the ritual of his neighbor in the six months since he’d opened the repair shop in Hell’s Kitchen. During that time, they had exchanged a few quick words, but Frank hadn’t found out much more about him, both of them busy with their respective jobs. He knew the obvious, like his name, since it was written underneath the shop name on the storefront, that he was punctual, and most of all, that he was blind. The latter information was something that had Frank speechless whenever he saw Matt Murdock gracefully navigating the flower displays outside the shop, a large pot or vase in each arm, or showing his customers to this or that plant and flower, with no sign of the white cane he used when he arrived or left. 

After outgrowing his previous auto repair shop in Queens and opening this one right next to a florist, Frank had expected Murdock to complain about the noise and the smells. Frank had walked up to the flower shop a couple of days after they’d opened up for business, to introduce himself and excuse any future racket. Murdock had smiled lightly and waved away Frank’s concern, but Frank had still waited for the other shoe to drop. The street they were sitting on was rather busy, meaning that Frank’s shop wasn’t the one making the most noise, but the place he’d bought used to be a row of three garages and caused minimal disturbance. Murdock had never said anything, however. He’d even gifted them a small potted plant a few weeks in. The plant was now sitting in Frank’s office and one of his employees was taking care of it because Frank had no idea how to look after anything green.

[gaiaseyes451]

A Little Life - Chapter 12 - The Night We Met (Final Chapter)

Rated: E, Words ~71k. Complete. Read the tags!

Chapter Excerpt (Read on AO3):

Nothing about falling in love, being in love, staying in love, is sensible.

Whatever possessed me to leave the shop that afternoon, I shall owe it profuse thanks, when I die. For it is what brought me to you.

*~*~*

Summary:

When Professor of Botany Anthony Crowley met bookshop owner Ezra Fell one November afternoon both knew their lives had irrevocably changed. From that moment forward, Anthony and Ezra’s existence was intertwined. Their story was written in the moments and memories they created as they moved through life’s chapters of coming together, building a family and facing the challenges of being human. This is a story of unconditional love and the joy and humour, obstacles and grief that inevitably come with choosing the same person, day after day, over and over and over again.

*~*~*

There are more personalized thanks in the end notes on AO3 as this is the last chapter.

A huge thanks to @goodomensafterdark for the writers community. And an extra special thanks to @hakunahistata and @the-literal-kj for beta'ing this story. Finally, a huge thanks to @fuzzygoblin for the song prompt that inspired this work

[darke-faerie]

New fic! Hua Cheng is very much a ball of anxious thoughts and overthinking over Xie Lian's safety in this! He does work out a way round it eventually...

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 天官赐福 - 墨香铜臭 | Tiān Guān Cì Fú - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù, 天官赐福 | Heaven Official's Blessing (Cartoon) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Hua Cheng/Xie Lian (Tian Guan Ci Fu) Characters: Xie Lian (Tian Guan Ci Fu), Hua Cheng (Tian Guan Ci Fu) Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Domestic Fluff, Domestic, Fluff, Married Hua Cheng/Xie Lian (Tian Guan Ci Fu), Married Life, Hua Cheng and Xie Lian are in Love (Tian Guan Ci Fu), Anxiety, Overprotective Hua Cheng (Tian Guan Ci Fu), Happy, Light Angst, Spoilers, for the extras, Happy Ending, Overthinking, Fluff and Angst, Fear, POV Hua Cheng (Tian Guan Ci Fu) Summary:

Following Xie Lian's mishap with the memory eating monster Hua Cheng has becoming very fearful whenever his husband is called away on a mission or to answer prayers without him

To ease his anxious fears he decides he needs to ensure Xie Lian is prepared with everything he could possibly need for every (un)likely scenario, each time he goes out on a mission or to answer prayers.

[gvnner]

Dear Ms. Addams,

My name is Enid Sinclair, a journalist with Nevermore Magazine. I have been assigned to write an exclusive piece on your upcoming novel. I would be honored to discuss your work and your journey as an author. Please let me know a convenient time for you to chat.

Best regards, Enid Sinclair

read on ao3

[lucagray813]

Sensitive Ear

Rating: Gen

Word Count: 4,333

Characters: MK, Macaque, Wukong

Relationships: MK & Macaque, Macaque & Wukong (could be interpreted as Macaque/Wukong)

Summary: What are the limitations of the Six-Eared Macaque's ability to know the past and future?

CW: None

Link to AO3 Version

----

In light of the Scroll of Memory and the offensive comments from Macaque, MK had decided that he needed to brush up on his Monkey King knowledge. Clearly a lifetime of Tang's retellings of the legendary Journey to the West hadn't been enough and he decided to go straight to the source.

After an unbecoming amount of pleading, Monkey King had caved and presented him with the only unabridged written account of his adventures - literally buried beneath Flower Fruit Mountain's library.

Which seemed excessive to him but it was clear as Monkey King handed over to him how much he wished to snatch it back and bury it once more but after everything he’d put him through, MK figured that Monkey King owed him at least this much.

Before he could shoot off and start reading, Monkey King stopped him, looking guilty he requested, "Look, kid. You deserve to know everything but well, I'm just warning you now not everything makes for pleasant reading. I've done things I'm not proud of. But... Just come talk to me first before you think too badly of me, alright?"

MK was agreeable, "I will. I know this is the unabridged version but nothing will be as detailed as the Scroll of Memory. But I also know you're not the same monkey you were. You're way better."

Monkey King grinned and ruffled his hair before throwing an arm around him as he led them out, "What did I do to deserve a successor like you, huh?"

Well, MK guessed he was about to find out.

----

The unabridged version of Journey to the West had been enlightening to say the least. He was still working his way through it but so far it had been an invaluable source of knowledge and unexpectedly he felt it had brought him and Monkey King closer.

Which he had to admit was largely because Monkey King seemed to have resolved himself to be honest and upfront whenever MK came to him with a question. Which while sometimes serious, would often result in Monkey King's spirited retelling of the adventure in question which MK couldn't deny he ate up every time.

He had however recently come to the story of the Six-Eared Macaque and his part to play in Monkey King's journey towards enlightenment and it made for some somber reading.

He couldn't quite bring himself to talk to Monkey King about it yet. Combined with what he'd seen in the Scroll of Memory - he couldn't imagine that it would be an easy thing for him to talk about.

After taking a few days to think on it and coming to terms with Macaque's fate. He decided that there were perhaps safer questions he could ask about this chapter with the other monkey in question. And boy, did he have so many questions.

It wasn't too hard to find Macaque these days, if he was in the mood to be approached, you could often find him lazing in a tree somewhere around the island, apparently content to do absolutely nothing.

So, after finding him one day, he loudly cleared his throat as he walked towards him and read out from the open book in his hand, "The fourth is the Six-Eared Macaque, who has a sensitive ear, discernment of fundamental principles, knowledge of past and future, and comprehension of all things."

He closed the book with flair and looked up at Macaque expectantly, the monkey did not look remotely fazed to see him or the book he was reading from. In fact, he didn't even deign to sit up, still reclining on a tree branch above him.

"Ah, MK. Took up my advice to do some reading, huh? Wise choice. I'm sure Wukong is thrilled."

He let himself be momentarily distracted, defending his mentor passionately, "Hey! I'll have you know it was Monkey King who gave me this book! And he's been super good at answering all my questions!"

Macaque laughed a little meanly, before sitting up against the trunk of the tree to grin down at him, "Oh? I'm curious about the questions and answers on this chapter. Do tell."

MK fibbed slightly, "Er... I've only just finished it but I have questions for you first! Mr. "Knowledge of Past and Future"! How could you know the future and get into trouble with the Buddha and with the Lady Bone Demon?"

Macaque rubbed at his chin thoughtfully before he shrugged. He brought his hands to his ears for a moment and when he pulled them away, there were six where there had been two.

MK gasped dramatically and pointed at him, "You've had six ears this whole time!?"

"Why did you think I was called the Six-Eared Macaque?"

MK floundered, he had no answer. Lots of demons in Journey to the West had long and strange names, although admittedly most of them were pretty apt descriptors of the demon in question.

He shrugged sheepishly and Macaque just looked unimpressed. Wanting to move past his embarrassment quickly, he asked, "Why hide them?"

His response was sarcastic, "Oh right, because I just love idiots stopping to gawk at them."

MK quickly brought his eyes back to Macaque's face, not having even realised they had strayed - in his defense though they were glowing various different colours, it was a little distracting.

"Alright, fair point. Why'd you show me them?"

"Well, I can't have Wukong answering your questions about me - he'll get it all wrong."

"Wait. You're actually going to answer my questions properly? No talking around them or being vague?"

"I know. Don't you feel special? But as I said, you get your information from Wukong on this and you'll be expecting the impossible from me. So ask away, kid."

Somewhat suspicious but admittedly a little excited he made his way up the tree Macaque was in to sit on a nearby branch. Holding the book tightly, he asked, "You can really see the future?"

Macaque shook his head and pointed to his ears, "I can hear the future if I choose to. No visual to go along with it. Which as you can imagine does hamper my ability to properly know the future."

"Oh! So you don't just like know the future? You have to actually choose to listen to it?"

"That is what I just said, yes."

"But your plan to imitate Monkey King - you must have checked to see if that would actually work?"

"The future's not set in stone, kid. I can listen to various possibilities - the further in the future I listen, the less certain the outcome."

MK couldn't help but feel disappointed, "This power is sounding less useful by the minute."

Macaque shrugged, "It has its uses to me every once in a while but I'll admit knowing the future doesn't always mean you can do anything about it either. Sometimes by focusing on one future, you inadvertently cause another."

He supposed that made sense, still not completely down and out over it however he asked, "Can you show me how it works? How do you listen to the future?"

Macaque seemed to think about it before he shrugged again, "Sure, give me a time and a place to listen in on and I'll give it a go. Preferably somewhere close in space and time. I can listen for the most probable future."

Not quite prepared to have Macaque actually show him, he scrabbled for what to ask, "Er... What am I having for dinner tonight?"

Aw man, he could potentially learn his future and that's all he could think to ask?

Macaque sighed heavily, "Time and place, kid."

"Oh, right! Pigsy's Noodles! And I guess, at like eight tonight?"

Macaque sat in a way reminiscent of Monkey King when he meditated and MK's eyes were drawn to his ears. The top set had been switching between gently glowing black and white but now there was only a pure black light emitting from them. The colours from his other ears were almost completely muted.

For several minutes, nothing happened. And MK wondered if he should be concerned - should it take this long? Macaque didn't look like he was in pain or anything.

Unable to help himself he tried to ask him what the hold up was but Macaque didn't so much as twitch at his questioning, and no matter how close or how loud he shouted in his ears he didn't respond. Being prodded or shaken had no effect either.

Ok, he was starting to see why looking into the future might not be a good idea if this is what was involved - Macaque was totally vulnerable! He had a fleeting thought that he could pull a prank on him but he couldn’t bring himself to betray Macaque’s trust like that.

Another several minutes later and finally the black glow faded and Macaque opened his eyes, bringing a hand to rub at his temple, "You're having Ma Po Tofu. And don't be alarmed if Tang has a bandage around his hand - he got hurt trying to swipe food before it was ready. Also, if Mei invites you for a ride on her bike wear a helmet." He then paused, "I shouldn't have to tell you that."

"I'm practically indestructible! What do I need a helmet for?"

"If you're not partial to a full head of hair then by all means you set a bad example for impressionable young minds."

Bringing his hands to his hair protectively he cried, "I'm going to lose my hair!?"

"It's a possibility."

Silently swearing he'd wear a helmet from now on, he brought his hands down and asked, "You were out for like fifteen minutes! What took you so long?"

Still rubbing at his head, Macaque responded, "You know how much sound there is between here and Pigsy's Noodles? And then how much there is between now and several hours from now? It's a lot to sift through."

"Oh. You can't just like fast forward to the right bit?"

Macaque shot him an annoyed look, "I sorted through hours worth of information in 15 minutes - I'd say that was fast forwarding. You try listening to the future some time, see how well you handle it."

Macaque finally brought his hand away from his head and MK asked, "Does it hurt? Listening to all that noise?"

"It's not pleasant. If I'm at it too long I have the worst migraine you could imagine."

He felt a little bad that he'd had Macaque demonstrate for him but then again Macaque had offered and he had no idea that it sucked so much to do it.

"Does listening to something further in the future take more time then?"

Macaque nodded, "Coupled with a migraine and how uncertain the far future is - it's just not worth the effort."

"Dude, this power seems totally useless! It does you more harm than good and it might not even be accurate? No wonder you don't use it."

Macaque shrugged, "Try telling that to the Lady Bone Demon. My ability to hear the future was why she sought me out in the first place. My ears were basically at her command - could only use them when she let me and all she wanted to know was the most likely outcome of her various plans to reset the world. Ugh, my head was killing me every second she had me captive. And don't get me started on what she was like when I didn't give her the answer she wanted."

He'd never thought too much about Macaque's relationship with the Lady Bone Demon. On the hunt for the Samadhi Fire, Macaque had at first made it seem like he was working for her by choice. He was beginning to realise Macaque had probably had a worse time than anyone else had with her.

"But enough about that witch. Questions about my ability to hear the future satisfied?"

Mood significantly lower after thinking about the Lady Bone Demon, he tried to focus back on why he'd originally sought Macaque out, "Uh... Yeah. Thanks for the demonstration. I guess that's how listening to the past goes too?"

He nodded and pointed to the lowest ear on his right, "Only difference is the set of ears I use to listen but same deal. Although accuracy is more or less guaranteed with the past."

The bottom ears glowed red and green.

"Do the colours mean anything?"

"Hm? Ah, they just correspond with wǔxíng - green is furthest back, black is furthest forward."

"What about your middle ears? They're just yellow."

"For hearing the present - much easier to use than past and future but still likely to end in a headache if I stretch it too far."

He looked down at the book in his hands in consideration, "Do you ever listen to the past...?"

Macaque glanced down at the book and understood what he was really asking, "People that live in the past aren't really living. I'll admit I peak every once in a while but sometimes it's better not to know. If I'm listening to the past, it's for information I can use in the present or will be helpful in the future. I don't linger."

He nodded absentmindedly, that was probably a good thing. But his mind had started to wander to other applications of Macaque's abilities.

There was a part of him that desperately wanted Macaque to listen to his past - tell him how he'd shown up at Pigsy's door all the years ago but his fear of the answer would never allow the question past his lips. Not to mention it was asking a lot of Macaque, it might take him days and then to top it off he'd have a migraine from hell.

He supposed it was a power that might be helpful for the present, or the immediate past or future but Macaque was right - it didn't sound worth it most of the time. No wonder it didn't help him any with the Buddha or the Lady Bone Demon.

"I think you've answered all my Six-Eared related questions. Thanks for actually just talking straight with me."

Macaque huffed, "I suppose it does make for a nice change of pace every once in a while. You sure that's everything? Because once I put the ears away you've lost your chance for an easy answer."

He looked down at the book in his hands. He wanted to know about Monkey King's past to help him with his future - given that his mentors old "friends" and enemies kept popping up to cause him trouble. But while he was curious about what had gone down between Monkey King and Macaque. It felt wrong for him to know more than he did.

He knew more than most and anything else he learned would be about the complicated feelings that the two no doubt had for each other and what happened. It wasn't for him to know.

"I guess I have one last question... Do you think you and Monkey King will ever talk about what happened?"

Macaque brought his hands up to his ears, and when he brought them away there were only two.

"Who can say? For the moment, we have a truce of sorts. And I can live with that for now. Not going to get Wukong's take on that chapter then?"

"No. I don't think I should. Sometimes it's better not to know, right?"

"I'm telling you, kid. You listen to me more often and you'll go far."

----

Wukong had waited until MK had left the island for the day before seeking out Macaque. He found him methodically cutting up fruit a good distance away from the mountain.

Despite, making his approach obvious, Macaque didn't bother to look up at him as he came into view. He just continued his work, seemingly unbothered his spoils were being pilfered by some of the island monkeys.

He came to stand a few feet away, eyeing up the other, waiting to see if he'd be acknowledged. When he wasn't he tried to think carefully how to broach the topic he had in mind.

"You weren't honest with, MK."

Macaque glanced at him before shrugging, "I didn't lie either."

"He thinks your powers to hear the past and future are pretty much useless."

Macaque sighed and put down the fruit and knife in his hand, "Forgive me, if I find it works out better for me if people don't know what I'm capable of."

It irked him that Macaque had led MK to believe his powers weren't at all a dangerous thing, sure his long term future hearing was probably not that reliable but all his other abilities could be used to devastating effect. Particularly if combined with certain artefacts or magic to speed up the process or lessen the pain.

He wasn't really sure what he hoped to achieve by confronting Macaque. Maybe his new honesty policy with MK was convincing him that everyone should follow suit.

He sat down with a huff, "MK's a good kid. He wouldn't have done anything if he knew. You just want him to underestimate you."

Macaque's eyebrow twitched, "If you're just here to start something then leave. I'm not in the mood to deal with you."

He pushed down the instinct to bite back with an inflammatory response and took a breath, "I'm just here to try and understand."

"Like hell, people who want to understand don't start by throwing around accusations. Try taking a leaf out of the kid's book sometime and don't assume you already know the answer. Because you rarely do."

Wukong's tail swished agitatedly behind him, "And you do? Crazy how often someone who can hear the past and future gets it wrong."

Macaque snarled at him, before catching himself and standing with an aggravated sound, "This is pointless. I don't need to hear the future to know that talking to you is a waste of time and energy. You just never know when to leave well enough alone."

Wukong stood, "Oh typical Macaque! Something's too difficult so he'll just run away!"

"Have you ever noticed that you're the thing that's too difficult? I was literally just sitting here, minding my business! And I didn't owe MK any answers! Just like I don't owe you any answers! You want the kid to know what I can do? Fine! You tell him! Not like you've ever cared what I wanted anyway!"

Wukong felt like he'd been slapped, "That's not true! I-"

He what? Had always cared? Always listened? Always put what someone else wanted before what he wanted?

None of that was true.

Why were they even arguing? Macaque hadn't done anything wrong. Was it really a big deal that MK didn't know every application of Macaque's powers? He hadn't known anything about his ears before now but suddenly Wukong was unhappy that Macaque hadn't felt obliged to tell him anything other than what he'd asked?

What was wrong with him?

He swallowed, temper immediately reduced to embers, "I- I won't tell, MK. You... You're right. You didn't owe him any answers."

An apology was on the tip of his tongue but he couldn't get it past his teeth.

Macaque looked taken off guard by the complete one-eighty, but he too calmed to respond warily, "Er... Alright. Good?"

Wukong tried to pull some semblance of an explanation together, "I just want what's best for MK. That shouldn't be at your detriment though. I just... I wasn't thinking."

Macaque scoffed, "There's a surprise. I still don't get why you flew off the handle like that."

Wukong crossed his arms and looked away - guilt warring with righteousness.

Macaque sounded incredulous, "You thought I was going to use my powers against the kid?"

"Don't act like that's unreasonable! It wasn't that long ago you were trying to kill us all! You can't expect me to forget that in just a couple of months!"

Macaque's tail lashed behind him, "Oh, of course! Why would I expect you of all people to think someone can change?"

"That doesn't mean you trust someone blindly! You think I would let you hang about my island if-"

"Your island!? This was just as much my home as it was yours!"

"Yeah it was! Past tense!"

"So what? Now I need to earn the right to call this place home again?"

"Yes! I mean, no! This is your home!" He made an aggravated noise, "Why are we fighting!?"

"You started it!"

"Well, I want to stop! I don't want to fight!"

"Then stop yelling!"

"You stop yelling!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

The both turned away from each other and Wukong felt his face heat up at how stupid this was. They literally couldn't say two words to each other without it dissolving into an argument.

He heard Macaque groan, "Look, I get why you don't trust me. The feeling's mutual but I just want to get on with my life. I don't want to hurt MK. Hell, I don't even want to hurt you most days. I'm done." He sighed heavily, before admitting quietly, "I'm tired. I... I just want to come home."

He decided to ignore that there were still some days where apparently Macaque did still want to hurt him as he felt Macaque's sentiment keenly. He was probably the only one who knew what it felt like to be so tired, to be so desperate for peace.

They'd both been forced away for five hundred years suffering their respective punishments, albeit not concurrently. And he knew deep down a part of him desperately wanted Macaque to come home too.

"I'm... I get that. What it's like to be tired... To want to come home... I-"

Macaque cut him off sharply, "Don't." He then took a breath, "Not tonight. I- I can't handle this conversation right now. It won't end well."

"...will it ever end well?"

Macaque stayed silent for a moment before admitting, "I haven't listened. I don't want to know."

Wukong nodded, deciding it was time to leave, he offered a roundabout apology, "I... I could have handled this better. Shouldn't have come already thinking the worst." He tried to grin, "I've still got a lot to learn from MK, I guess."

Macaque played along, "I'll say." He looked at him seriously, "He's a good kid, Wukong."

It sounded like a warning but he understood, "Yeah, I know."

He wasn't going to mess this up. He could admit he'd started off as a poor excuse for a mentor and friend but he was going to do better. He was already doing better.

Macaque seemed to accept all that had went unsaid and turned away, and swiped up the knife he'd been using to cut fruit, "Well, alright then... I'm off. The apple orchard is calling my name."

With a final nod, he walked off, quickly disappearing amongst the shadows between the trees.

Well, that could have gone worse. In fact, he'd even call that a tentative success. Though they really would need to figure out a way to communicate without getting so worked up almost immediately. Unfortunately, he couldn't lay all the blame at Macaque's feet for that one.

As he made his way back to the mountain, he reflected on Macaque's ears. He hadn't really meant to spy on him and MK earlier but he stood by his perhaps slightly overly protective nature when MK was around Macaque.

It'd been a long time since he'd seen them properly, he'd been surprised that Macaque had been so willing to show them to MK.

He could easily remember hundreds of moments when he'd been distracted by their glow.

MK couldn't possibly appreciate what those ears were truly capable of. They could hear sounds you wouldn't have thought existed - the stretch of muscles, plants growing, the frequency of stationary metals. Macaque could hear it all.

And he could pinpoint where those sounds were in space with terrifying accuracy - meaning a lack of visuals for the past and future was hardly a detriment. Sure he couldn't see the features of someone's face or clothes, couldn't appreciate any scenery but that was a truly minor detail.

In practice, Macaque could use this to predict someone's moves in a fight. Forever at least one step ahead of his opponent. It was why he had been able to perfectly fool everyone bar the Buddha of his imitation and how he was able to go toe to toe with him in a fight.

It wasn't an ability without flaws - it could quickly take its toll and as Macaque had said to MK, knowing the future didn't mean you could do anything about it but Macaque could use it with devastating effectiveness.

And don't get him started on hearing the past. Macaque could process and retain an insane amount of information, if he had the time and motivation he could learn everything about a person, could know their whole life and he had little issue with using that knowledge against someone.

And boy, was Macaque more than willing to suffer to get that information if he had the right motivation - take for example, a desire for revenge. Macaque knew things about his journey no-one else should know and he had previously not hesitated to hurt him with that knowledge.

And then of course, just his hearing for the present made him an impressive tracker. You'd be hard pressed to hide from the Six-Eared Macaque.

All this to say, Macaque was not someone you wanted as your enemy. He was extraordinarily skilled and he would happily spite himself just to cause you to suffer.

But, he tried to remind himself, when Macaque wasn't your enemy he could be an exceptional ally. Something, Wukong was slowly starting to hope he could one day be again - if not something more.

[discordantwords]

NOW COMPLETE!

Chapters: 6/6 Fandom: Sherlock (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Additional Tags: Djinni & Genies, Wishes, Time Travel, Temporary Character Death, Mutual Pining, John Watson is a Mess, Sherlock Holmes is a Mess, Sherlock Holmes Loves John Watson, John Watson Loves Sherlock Holmes, Angst with a Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, Magical Realism, Magic,

"You never asked me to make him love you back. That's always one of the first things that someone asks me, you know. 'Make him fall in love.' 'Make her love me.' 'Make him return my feelings.' 'Make him want me.' Blah, blah, blah, on and on and on. But you didn't do that. Neither did he."

This is a story of seven wishes.

One wasted wish, five wishes that changed the world, and one wish that changed nothing at all.

A Fandom Trumps Hate gift for @khorazir

Read it here on AO3

[busy-baker]

•Masterlist•

Long Fics

Thicker Than Water (Complete) Explicit - Tav and Astarion are settling into their new life, exploring each other and themselves while finally having the freedom to explore all the splendors of the world around them.

That is, until an unexpected circumstance veers their plans completely off path, sending them into their most difficult journey yet.

Parenthood.

But little do they know, the child of a vampire was the least of their worries.

There are much scarier things than monsters lurking in the night.

Hellbound and Heaven-Sent (Ongoing) Explicit - Juniper Ancunín and Calathor Dekarios are inseparable. They have navigated their days together since the evening their parents introduced them, sealing them together as best friends.

They would fight to the end of the world for one another if it meant the other remained safe.

But as fate would have it, time moves on and paths sometimes do not align the way we always hope they should.

Until one day, when those paths cross once again, twisting the threads of life and entwining the two lost friends on a road to discover their souls and each other’s.

Roasted (Ongoing) Explicit - Astarion is employed at a coffee shop while he strives to raise in the ranks of the fashion world, modeling for high end designers and magazines.

Gale is an author who has recently topped the bestsellers list. He has it all now, according to his agent who also happens to be his ex, but he still feels as if he lacks something.

When their paths come together, they find that a life worth living is better in good company.

Series

A Rogue’s Guide to Raising a Family - Fics showcasing the ever changing lives of the Ancunín family. The chaos begins with Thicker Than Water and carries on with twists and turns through several chapters and short fics. Astarion’s in for a wild ride with this bunch.

Darling Dhampir - Short stories featuring Astarion and Juniper as they navigate life, growing and learning from one another each day.

The Mess - Bloodweave x f!Tav series. Explicit

One Shots

House of Mirrors - f!Tav x Astarion - The fair has come to Baldur’s Gate for the week. Tav would love nothing more than to show her vampire the endless “luxuries” that the event can provide.

Astarion, on the other hand, contemplates if the blunt end of a stake would be less painful than that absolute torture.

Perfect Strangers - f!Tav x Gale, Explicit - Tav goes out for a night of fun with her gal pals and ends up catching the eye of one well known wizard.

Sun, Sand, and Someone I Love - f!Tav x Astarion, Explicit - Astarion and Tav are enjoying their time away from their family for a little rest and relaxation. They discover the wonders of the all-inclusive resort including the fun the beach can provide for the insatiable elven couple.

Sun, Sand, and Someone I Love: Part 2 - Juniper x Cal - The Ancuníns have returned to Sea of Swords Resort and Spa for a vacation but this time, they brought their children. It’s Juniper and Cal’s turn to have some fun in the sun while on their tropical getaway.

Like Fine Wine - f!Tav x Gale - It’s twenty years after they have saved Baldur’s Gate. Tav and Gale are now a happily married couple in Waterdeep, but the wizard deals with some insecurities about himself.

Date Night - f!Tav x Astarion - Astarion has planned something special for Tav since they have a night alone. They spend time reminiscing on their initial feelings towards one another, the good and the bad.

Faerun Fashion Week - Astarion and Faron have been placed together to combine their efforts for one show during Fashion Week. Can the esteemed designers come together or will everything crumble as they realize how different Baldur’s Gate and Waterdeep truly are?

[inanewmoon]

Art by Beedok! 💙💙💙

Today, not something Ranma related (I know, a bit weird, knowing my recent obsession). Last year, I wrote Shadow Girl of Mars, a crossover between The Martian and Naruto (Dreaming of Sunshine). Today, I have a cool commission from @beedokart to share with you, as well as some bonus content I just posted under the series. You can read the story here:

I considered it complete already, but the new bonus content now includes a few extra little scenes, some reactions from people back on Earth, and a list of Shikako's hoard.

[serpentarius]

devil's minion girlies (gn)... if you're itching to read some 70s armandaniel in anticipation for next week's ep... I gotchu

[grounded-gryphon]

Fog on the wind caressed Danny's core, an invitation from Lady Gotham. He yawned. After telling his parents, patrolling, and quieting Jason's obsession over his welcome into the Fraid, Danny didn't know how much longer he'd be able to stay awake. Sure, he'd… Okay, no, he hadn't really had worse nights in Amity. Well, except for the one time Tucker accidentally emptied the thermos…

He went invisible and flew to the location of the call. Before he arrived he could feel the chill of another ghost. When he got closer, Batman was waiting on a rooftop just outside the haunt borders of the alley.

Okay, even the thermos emptied wasn't this bad. Was this more Justice League shit? Why didn't he go through Nightwing if that were the case? Danny landed, leaned against the wall, and became visible again. Before he could speak, Batman nodded a greeting. "Your Majesty."

Okay, Danny, play it cool. "Batman. Your Lady called for me, it seems."

"She has been… very helpful recently." Why the hell was the Batman admitting that to him?

Oh, well. "That's good to hear."

Batman sighed. "I have a request, Your Majesty. I would like your help." Hold up. If the big bad Bat was asking for his help, this wasn't Justice League shit. "I realize this is… presumptuous… of me, but I am…" He gritted his teeth a moment, and Danny barely heard the whisper of, "desperate."

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