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writing-wyvern · 1 year

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Hard to Explain, Hard to Understand

ShigaDestro Whump Oneshot

Ao3 link below.

So, I wanted to write some drama, and decided I was gonna write whump to do it. I love winter based whump, so when I found a whump Bingo that featured the prompt “Falling Through the Ice”, I decided to shoot my shot. I thought this was going to end up being a lot shorter than it turned out, but what can you do? I mean, the set-up section of the story is around 3000 words by itself, so sorry in advance.

I want to give thanks to the lovely FungusFangs on Twitter for introducing me to ShigaDestro! I love this pairing so much, and if you’re also interested in DabiSkeptic (like I am), I’d highly suggest you check out her art! I’d like to give you all some discretion though: the focus of her art is emeto and stuffing kink, so please be aware of that going in.

This will be cross-posted on my Ao3 (writing_wyvern) but not on my Twitter (@writing_wyvern), due to this being a full-length story. If you liked the fic here, I would highly suggest you go over to my other social media pages and give those some attention there, too! There will occasionally be content exclusive to my other pages, especially my Twitter, due to the way Twitter is formatted in comparison to Tumblr and Ao3.

I would like to give trigger warnings (TWs) for mentions of needles/IVs, mentions of death and death by drowning, hypothermia, couple arguing, mentions of transphobia and explicitly written transphobic words, implications of child abuse, mentions of suicide, depictions of a suicide attempt, and running away. If any of these topics bother you, please leave instead of leaving a hate comment or something. Hate comments are not productive, and no one’s happy either leaving them or reading them. They’ll just get deleted anyway, so don’t even bother.

With all of that said, on with the show!

It was the middle of the night when he realized Shigaraki wasn’t there.

Normally, he wouldn’t have thought anything of it; occasionally, Shigaraki would disappear in the middle of the night, maybe to grab a drink and a snack or maybe to go to the main room in order to play one of his video games so he wouldn’t wake up from the sound of the television playing loud 8-bit music or action sound effects. But on this particular night, Yotsubashi decided to surprise Shigaraki by getting up and coming to see him instead of sleeping away like he normally did. So with that, he got up, put on his fuzzy slippers, and made his way out of their bedroom.

On his way to the kitchen was the main room, and when he passed through it, there was no sign of Shigaraki. The lights and the television were both off, the controllers were still neatly put away in the cabinet of the entertainment center, and the couch didn’t even have any sort of indentation in it from where Shigaraki would have been sitting. His only conclusion to draw was that Shigaraki was in the kitchen, getting a drink and making himself a snack. (He couldn’t have been in there for long, then; usually, he fixed himself quick snacks or even just grabbed pre-made ones like chips or cup ramen.)

However, when he arrived, he found that the room seemingly hadn’t been touched since dinner was cooked last night—the pans were still hanging clean, the dishwasher was showing a display light indicating that it had finished its washing cycle and had never been opened, and lights had never been turned on to begin with. This may have been mundane to anyone outside looking in, but to Yotsubashi, it only meant one thing: Tomura Shigaraki was no longer inside the villa. And adding that to the fact that it was just two hours past midnight, still completely dark outside, and the temperature was several degrees below zero with snow and ice everywhere, he immediately became worried.

From there, it wasn’t long until everyone in the villa was awake. Everyone took a floor and began to look through every single room, whether it was occupied or not. Shigaraki was not in the kitchen, his bedroom, the main room, the assembly hall, the conference room, any of the unoccupied rooms in the villa, or even in the courtyard outside. And that was where another problem arose. As far as anyone in the Paranormal Liberation Front knew, Shigaraki did not have the ability to drive. Everywhere he went, he was escorted by someone else, whether it be another member of the Front who was able to do so or a hired chauffeur. Thankfully, none of the escort vehicles were missing from the villa’s parking lot… but that meant Shigaraki was probably walking outside in snow that was a third of a meter deep (with more incoming), and Yotsubashi doubted he had a jacket on at all. Shigaraki nearly always wore long sleeved clothing, and would always, without fail, tell Yotsubashi that his thin long sleeved shirt was enough to keep him safe from temperatures far below zero degrees.

(It was sometimes funny, sometimes not. Sometimes, he would actually beg for Yotsubashi’s jacket, and he would begrudgingly hand it over for the walk to the car, and then let Shigaraki sit in the seat directly in front of the heater to help him warm up for the drive back to the villa. Those were the rather funny occasions. And then, in the less amusing times, he would internally bring himself to tears—but never actually let them spill over onto his cheeks—as he silently glared at Yotsubashi, because Shigaraki never wanted to admit when the older man was right. And then they would get outside to their escort vehicle, and Shigaraki would either continue to sit in silence or blow up at Yotsubashi. Either way, it would certainly end with them going to their shared bedroom when they got back to the villa, and Yotsubashi would wrap Shigaraki in blankets and put on a movie for him to watch as they warmed up. It was much more tender than amusing, but Yotsubashi couldn’t help himself from smiling every time it happened.)

Now, Yotsubashi was on a mission. He and Hanabata both put on their coats and scarves, rushing out to an escort vehicle. Hanabata climbed into the driver’s seat and began to circle around the villa and go down nearby streets, all while Yotsubashi stuck his head out the window and called for the Grand Commander by name. He started out by screaming “Shigaraki”, but as time went on, and finding him seemed to become more and more difficult, Yotsubashi became desperate, and switched over to his given name, screaming “Tomura” up and down the streets. At this point, time was of the essence—if they didn’t find Shigaraki soon, there was a very good possibly he was going to be freezing to death out in the snow. And after a while, Hanabata parked, much to Yotsubashi’s- well, dismay was not a strong enough word to describe it. In layman’s terms, Yotsubashi was rather pissed off, and the moment he felt the car shakes slightly from being shifted into park, he turned his head to glare at Hanabata, who was still staring straight ahead and looking through the windshield.

“What are you doing?! We have to look for him!” Yotsubashi shouted, balling his hands into fists at his sides. He really didn’t want to get rid of Hanabata… but this was Shigaraki’s life possible being on the line here, and Yotsubashi didn’t want to risk him. In this moment (and generally, in most moments), Shigaraki’s life was more important to Yotsubashi than Hanabata’s.

Hanabata finally turned his head, now switching his gaze to Yotsubashi. there was a slight glare against his glasses from a nearby streetlight shining through the car windows, but he was still able to see Hanabata’s expression—he was being completely serious. There was no friendliness in his eyes, and there was no smile across his face. Apparently, this was important to Hanabata, too… although probably not to the same degree. Without a single word coming out of Hanabata’s mouth, he turned his head to face the other direction, opened up the car door, and stepped out into the cold open, walking around to the other side of the car and walking across the street to the other sidewalk. He then stood there, staring across at the car and hoping Yotsubashi understood what he wanted to happen.

And he did.

Yotsubashi also stepped out of the car, closing the door behind him and rushing across the street to meet Hanabata on the other side. Once they met up on the other side of the road, Hanabata began to stroll down without any words ever slipping out from between his lips, guiding Yotsubashi down the sidewalk and past a tall black metal fence that was to their right. Eventually, Yotsubashi was able to follow Hanabata around a corner, and was brought to the entrance of the park that was behind the fence, which had tall hedges grown around the inside of the park to block it from view from the outside. (The structure confused Yotsubashi, but he couldn’t really do anything about it—he didn’t own the park, after all.) During wintertime, like it was at this moment, the pond in the middle of the park was usually frozen over due to the weather, and many would use it to ice skate. However, the absolutely shocking sight that greeted both Yotsubashi and Hanabata when they approached the entrance to the park was a large hole in the middle of the pond.

“I saw this on about our fourth circling around the block,” Hanabata explained, gesturing to the broken ice over the pond water. “I got worried, and I figured it was best to check it out.”

Without even so much as a second thought, Yotsubashi ran into the park, throwing his coat and scarf off behind him, taking off his pajama top so as not to get it wet (as neither he nor Hanabata had opted to change into proper clothes before going to look for Shigaraki—after all, time was of the essence), and shoved his hand into the gaping hole in the ice. Thankfully, the pond was rather shallow, and within mere seconds, his hand was able to grasp onto… cloth. Not a stray jacket or scarf that had possibly been thrown into the lake for whatever reason, because Yotsubashi could tell there was pressure underneath the cloth he had grabbed onto. There was someone attached to the cloth he had just grabbed. And hopefully (or maybe… dishearteningly), the person wearing the clothes he was grabbing onto was Shigaraki.

He began to panic, desperately trying to save the person beneath. Well- trying to save Shigaraki. There was no one else it could be. He never saw a report about someone drowning at the bottom of this pond, his phone never rang with a J-Alert telling him about a missing person or child in the area, and he hadn’t even seen signs nearby that were warning park attendees about the ice in the pond being broken. This ice had been broken overnight. Shigaraki was the only person missing from their area. Shigaraki was most definitely the person at the bottom of the pond, and Shigaraki had to be saved. Yotsubashi was going to save him.

He shoved his other arm in there, gripping onto the cloth with both hands and pulling up with all his might. Normally, he would have been able to lift Shigaraki (he did it all the time, after all), but he was under the water, and was most likely unconscious. He was going to be hard to lift, and somehow, even Yotsubashi was struggling to pull Shigaraki up to the surface. He really didn’t want to strip himself down to absolutely nothing in the freezing cold and dive into the even colder water to save him. Call him selfish, but at the same time, Yotsubashi couldn’t risk also bringing himself into paralyzing temperatures and causing himself to struggle in the effort of saving Shigaraki.

Suddenly, as he was pulling, he felt Hanabata rub up against him, also shirtless and shoving his arms down into the rather large opening of the pond that Shigaraki had seemingly broken when he fell in. Together, they gripped onto Shigaraki’s clothes and pulled up, somehow managing to pul him up through the water enough to move their hands from just gripping onto his clothes to be gripping onto his actual limbs. He was turned over onto his back now, and Hanabata was able to shift himself to be on the opposite side of the pond without ever letting go of Shigaraki’s sweater. eventually, Yotsubashi was gripping around Shigaraki’s ankle, and Hanabata was gripping onto Shigaraki’s forearm. And eventually, after what was probably, realistically five minutes—but felt like a lifetime to Yotsubashi, they were able to bring him out of the water and up onto the surface, laying Shigaraki’s practically lifeless body into the snow.

There was no blood. Thank god, there was no blood.

Yotsubashi was just sitting there in shock, staring down at Shigaraki. Before he knew it, however, he had sprung back to life, with Hanabata having sprung into action while Yotsubashi stupidly sat there and did absolutely nothing. Hanabata was doing chest compressions on Shigaraki, desperately trying to keep his heart from going out. Yotsubashi panicked and rushed over to Shigaraki, deciding to use his own hands to press on Shigaraki’s stomach in an attempt to get water out of his lungs. Thankfully, he could hear Hanabata let out a sound of surprise as a result of water shooting out of Shigaraki’s mouth and nose, indicating that whatever Yotsubashi was doing, it was working.

After a moment, Hanabata finally spoke, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “We need to undress him to keep him from going into shock, then bring him back to the car and warm him up on our way back to the villa. Then we’re going to bring him inside and try to warm him up further while we wait for a medic to come by and make sure he’s not going to be seriously hurt from this. Hopefully, we can find out how he ended up out here when he comes to…”

Yotsubashi didn’t need to hear another word. He grabbed onto Shigaraki’s sweater, pulling it up over the younger man’s head and tearing it off of his body. As he placed a hand on Shigaraki’s chest in order to find a heartbeat, Yotsubashi only found himself frowning more and more—his skin was ice cold from being submerged in frozen-over water, and he found himself somehow needing to help Shigaraki even more than he had been trying to before. He tore off the boy’s shoes, socks, and pants, leaving the poor boy laying in the snow in nothing but a chest binder and boxers. Oh, he really hated to do this, but Yotsubashi took Shigaraki’s chest binder off of him, immediately throwing his own jacket overtop of Shigaraki’s body so Hanabata didn’t see the younger boy’s now exposed breasts.

“Hanabata, don’t look over this way until I tell you that you can look,” Yotsubashi commanded, and Hanabata obliged. Yotsubashi put his jacket on Shigaraki properly, pulling it over the boy’s arms and zipping it up in the front. His clothes were always big on Shigaraki’s thin and tiny body, and this jacket (that was normally a little baggy on Yotsubashi as it was) was no exception. Crisis averted. After Yotsubashi gave Hanabata the okay to look, they worked together to lift Shigaraki and lug him into the backseat of the car.

Yotsubashi sat in the backseat with him while Hanabata climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the heat onto the maximum settings. Shigaraki wasn’t even buckled in—Yotsubashi was holding the younger boy in his lap and keeping him close, hoping his body warmth would do something, anything to help warm him. He kept the boy’s head against his own chest, having one arm wrapped around him diagonally, wedged under Shigaraki’s right arm with his hand resting on Shigaraki’s left shoulder. Yotsubashi’s other arm was slung over his younger companion’s left side, his hand rubbing Shigaraki’s back in between the shoulder blades. He was praying that at some point during the car ride, Shigaraki would wake up… but he never did.

That wasn’t to say that he died in the lake, or even that he died on his way to the villa. No, Shigaraki never died at all, but had put himself into a coma of sorts as a result of plunging himself into the bottom of the pond. He warmed up somewhat just on the car ride to the villa, and warmed up fully after being placed inside his warm bedroom for a short while. He was left nude (aside from his boxers) in the bed, both a regular throw blanket and a heavy comforter on top of his thin body, and a space heater going in the room in addition to the central heating that went through the entire building.

It was only a little over an hour until a medic arrived from the nearest hospital, given that the nearest hospital in question was nearly 115 kilometers away from the villa. Even after that amount of time being spent out of the freezing cold water and in a warm environment, Shigaraki was still unresponsive, although he was clearly breathing and had an audible heartbeat. The medic was able to easily diagnose Shigaraki with moderate to severe hypothermia as a result of submersion in the cold pond, and decided to additionally treat him by hooking him up to an IV and sending warm fluids through his body. The medic left after giving Yotsubashi, Hanabata, and Chikazoku directions: change out Shigaraki’s fluid bag whenever it ran dry, and make sure he stayed as warm as possible. They were also left with the instructions to only let Shigaraki wake up on his own without any external intervention, and to call for an ambulance if he did not wake up after three days.

Shigaraki spent a decent amount of time in a comatose state as he recovered, and through it all, Yotsubashi made a promise that he would never leave his side. Hanabata would have to bring Yotsubashi his meals every morning, afternoon, and night, and would always grab his dirty dishes and take them to the kitchen, swapping the empty and dirty dishes with new plates that contained food. Of course, Yotsubashi was never happy to eat. He ate it all because he knew he needed to eat and that if Shigaraki were awake, he would get mad if Yotsubashi didn’t eat. But at the end of it all, he was sad. Sad that he couldn’t share his mealtimes with Shigaraki, sad that Shigaraki wouldn’t wake up, and sad that Shigaraki became sick in the first place all because he wasn’t awake to stop him from leaving the villa.

~***~

Chikazoku sighed, standing outside of Shigaraki’s room. He and Hanabata had cracked the door, and they were both peering into the room through the small opening. Of course, the sight that greeted them—and the only one that had done so over the few times they’d checked on those in the room over the past 12 hours—was Yotsubashi sitting to the right of Shigaraki’s bed in an uncomfortable looking wooden chair, holding onto the younger boy’s gloved hand. Yotsubashi honestly looked terribly depressed, and neither Chikazoku nor Hanabata doubted that he was blaming himself for the situation that Shigaraki had been found in. (Although it was rather unclear as to if he had a reason to be blaming himself, the point was that he very much was.)

Chikazoku turned to face Hanabata, turning the doorknob, pulling he door to, and letting go. He didn’t want to make too much noise and alert Yotsubashi to the fact that they were there. “So. What do you think? Will we have to call an ambulance?”

Hanabata cupped his fingers around his chin, looking up to the ceiling slightly in thought. Once he finally came up with his answer, he looked back down to be at eye level with Chikazoku, but decided not to move his hand away from his chin. “That’s a bit of a toss-up, you see. We don’t know how long he was gone from the villa in total. We don’t know how long he had been at the bottom of that pond we found him in. All we know is that he’s alive and currently comatose. So, simply… I’m not sure. He could wake up, or we could have to call for an ambulance to take him to the hospital for treatment.”

Chikazoku sighed and crossed him arms over his chest. “That’s true. Hopefully, he wakes up before the three day mark. If he were to be sent to the hospital, especially by ambulance, Yotsubashi’s mental health would definitely go into further decline. He seems to already be rather upset as it is. I haven’t seen him all day because he’s refused to come out of the pig sty that is Shigaraki’s bedroom.”

“Well, of course he’s upset,” Hanabata huffed out, moving his hands into the front pockets of his jacket. “Think about the circumstances that he’s in. He woke up, and within an hour, found out that if he had just gone back to bed, his lover would be dead at the bottom of a pond in a public park at this very moment. And we both know that, without any doubt in our minds, he blames himself for everything that has happened. So ask me this, Tomoyasu… why shouldn’t Yotsubashi be upset?”

Chikazoku tilted his head up and shifted his gaze down in order for Hanabata to be able to see him glaring slightly. “I’ll tell you why he shouldn’t be upset.” He lowered his head and faced his back to Hanabata, saying just a single sentence before walking down the hall and out of sight. “Because he had nothing to do with why Shigaraki ended up at the bottom of that pond. Shigaraki had a reason… but Yotsubashi was not that reason.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving Hanabata stunned in front of the door.

~***~

Thankfully, Shigaraki did manage to wake up. It took a whole day passing by, and he didn’t wake up until late in the second day (when Yotsubashi was starting to get really worried), but he did wake up. And of course, Yotsubashi was right there at his side.

“…where am I?” Shigaraki croaked out, looking around and eventually over at Yotsubashi.

Yotsubashi was already aware that Shigaraki had woken up beforehand—the boy had a tendency to do a lot of stretching as he was waking up, and this occasion was no exception to that. “Ah- you’re in your room. How are you feeling?”

“…” Shigaraki paused a moment, seemingly trying to figure out exactly how he was feeling. “I feel like there’s a big needle in my arm, and I don’t want it there.”

Yotsubashi laughed softly. At least the boy’s punk-like attitude didn’t disappear when he got sick. “Well, I’m sorry to report that that needle will be staying in there for a little while. The fluids in the bags are supposed to help you keep warm while you recover.”

“Recover? What the hell happened?” He actually seemed rather pissed off… that wasn’t good.

“I’m not quite sure,” Yotsubashi admitted, crossing his right leg over his left at the knee. “All I know is that I woke up and you were nowhere to be found. Then when Hanabata went outside to look for you… we eventually found you at the bottom of a pond.”

“…bottom of a pond?” Shigaraki tried to lift himself up in order to further speak to Yotsubashi, but found his arms too weak to support his body weight even for that short while. He gave up after a moment of trying and just hurting himself, and remained laying down, flat on his back and flat on the bed. He didn’t even bother to turn onto his side (as facing Yotsubashi would result in Shigaraki laying on the arm that the IV was in), simply turning his head to look at the businessman sitting at his bedside.

“Yes,” Yotsubashi confirmed, never having let go of Shigaraki’s hand through it all. “You were at the bottom of the pond that was in the public park not too far from here. It looked like the ice had broken while you were walking over it and you fell in. Now, what in God’s name were you doing out there? It was the middle of the night, actively snowing, colder than the average temperature of a home freezer, and you were out there without a jacket or even anyone to accompany you.” He didn’t sound angry, and he didn’t even sound like he was worried (although his expression gave away that he very much was). He just looked… disappointed in Shigaraki.

Shigaraki huffed and turned his head to look towards the window on the exact opposite side of the room. He hated disappointing others for several reasons (the main reason being that disappointing his father as a child meant screaming and yelling, and occasionally a beating), and he especially didn’t like upsetting Yotsubashi. Technically speaking, he had power over Yotsubashi, and had no reason to be scared of disappointing him… but at the same time, he didn’t want to disappoint the person that he had mentally been planning to spend the rest of his days alongside.

(Of course, Yotsubashi could never, ever know that Shigaraki was planning to settle down with him in the back of his mind. Not only would that be highly unprofessional of the both of them, but their relationship was strictly “friends with benefits” right now, as far as Shigaraki figured that Yotsubashi knew. As far as Shigaraki knew, however, they were on their way to be married as soon as the younger boy was able to work up the courage to buy a ring and propose to his older subordinate.)

After a few moments of grating silence, Yotsubashi finally spoke up again. “Well? Why would you risk your life like that? I know you may not always be responsible on the battlefield, and I know you don’t like wearing jackets or coats very much. But I know that you wouldn’t normally just run out into life-threatening conditions without so much as a precaution or a word to anyone. Now please tell me… why did you go out there like that, and why did you go out there like that alone?”

Shigaraki still refused to respond, leaving the room in a stunning and near eerie silence. He obviously had an answer—he was clearly the only reason that he had even left that room in the first place, and no one else knew why he had left but him. No one was going to get an answer to this question unless Shigaraki spoke up, and whatever the answer was, it was definitely something that either Shigaraki was embarrassed by or that no one else should ever really have to know. But at the same time, everyone did have to know, or else this issue could never be truly resolved, and it might possibly be impossible to prevent it from happening again.

“…” Yotsubashi didn’t speak for a moment, either. It was a mix between him not knowing what to say and him not being sure if he should say anything at all. He was worried that he might say something that would make Shigaraki want to remain quiet for longer, but he really needed to press the answer out of him, someway, somehow. “…Tomura.”

And Shigaraki raised his head, finally looking back over at Yotsubashi. “You said my name.”

Yotsubashi never called Shigaraki by his given name. Not when they were holding one another in their arms, not in between peppered kisses, and not even during their closest and most intimate moments. He had only purposely called him by first name on formal occasions, such as introducing him to others. The boy other time he had properly said Shigaraki’s given name was during their very first date, and even then, that was just when they went on an actual (and their only) proper date. They both remembered what he had said that night—the night they had both gone out to a nice restaurant together and had a good meal before coming home and joining each other in bed.

”Tomura, I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you.”

(All the time, Shigaraki desperately wondered if he truly meant it. Nearly every day, it ran through his mind—did Yotsubashi truly mean that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with him, or were those just words he said that actually meant nothing, and were only meant to drag Shigaraki into the sheets? After all, he could tell the the older man had trained himself to a point in the art of seduction—he didn’t know everything, sure, but he probably knew enough, and if that much was all that was needed to get Shigaraki to have sex with him, why teach himself any more than he had already learned?)

“Yes,” Yotsubashi said after a few seconds of thinking. “I did say your name. Because I love you. And I want to know what’s wrong. If I don’t know what’s wrong, I can’t help you.”

Shigaraki had to take a moment to think, himself. Not only had Yotsubashi just given him a brief love confession… but he still had to think about if he was going to tell Yotsubashi the truth or not. He still had to think about whether he was actually going to give him an answer or not. He didn’t want to break their trust by lying to him, and he didn’t want to completely damage heir entire relationship by refusing to give him any kind of answer, but at the same time, this matter was rather personal to him, and he didn’t want to just go out giving the answer to everyone he knew, who so happened to talk with people that Shigaraki didn’t know, and might let his secrets slip.

But Shigaraki trusted Yotsubashi. And he felt that if he just asked Yotsubashi not to say anything to anyone else, then nothing would ever leave the room they both sat in at that very moment.

“Fine,” he replied, his voice quiet and his single word coming out sounding like a forced grunt. He was still pissed off, and even if he didn’t want to show it, it was clear as day through his furrowed brows and gruff tone. “I’ll tell you. As long as you promise not to tell anyone else. And if you do tell anyone else, I’ll decay you.” He held up his hand (his left hand, attached to the arm that did not have a giant needle stuck in it) to demonstrate, although it fell somewhat flat due to his hand being gloved.

“I won’t say a word to anyone, dear.” Yotsubashi wasn’t normally one for pet names, but now seemed like a suitable time to use one to get his point across. “Whatever it is, I promise it’ll just be between us. No one but myself will ever hear a word about it.”

Shigaraki sighed, finally managing to pull himself up with his left hand. He shakily pressed it against the mattress and pulled his body up with that support, and his entire upper body shook as he raised his head, neck, and eventually his entire upper half to be sitting up. Once he had pulled himself into a sitting position, Shigaraki scooted himself backward and leaned against the headboard. Then he was in the position he wanted to be in, sitting up, his head turned so he could look at Yotsubashi, and his right hand grasped between both of Yotsubashi’s palms. He never objected to having his hand held; it gave him a sense of security and made him feel like he was being loved in this moment.

Shigaraki waited a brief moment before speaking up again. “The reason I left the villa… was because I wanted to leave the villa. I wanted to be outside in the freezing cold. And more than anything… I wanted to drown at the bottom of that frozen pond.”

It was a lot to take in. Yotsubashi had been preparing himself to hear nearly any reason—maybe someone had taken him out and come back, maybe he had left to pick up something and got distracted, or maybe he had even gone out on a very ill-advised walk and accidentally ended up at the bottom of the pond when he slipped on ice beneath the snow and crashed through the ice on the surface of the water. But the terrifying thought of Shigaraki going out there on purpose in the attempt to commit suicide by drowning had never crossed his mind.

“…Tomura…” Yotsubashi didn’t know what to say. He was in complete and total shock. The only other word he could get out was said in a very confused and disappointed tone. “Why?”

Tomura averted his gaze yet again. “No. I told you why I left the villa in the first place because that’s what you wanted to have the answer to. No more questions, because I don’t want to give any more answers.” He scooted himself forward and laid his head back down on the pillow, whimpering softly as the area just below the crown of his head made impact against the pillow. “Now, I would like for you to either shut your mouth and let me get a little more sleep or leave entirely. Your choice.”

Yotsubashi didn’t say another word, instead opting to merely keep a gentle grasp on Shigaraki’s right hand, cupping one half in each of his palms. He didn’t say an “I love you”. He didn’t say Shigaraki’s given name. He just sat there in the chair at Shigaraki’s bedside, keeping his lips sealed as he ran him thumb across the back of Shigaraki’s hand that wasn’t covered up by a partial glove. He didn’t even lean down to kiss his hand, fearful of how that might damage their relationship further.

(Of course, what Yotsubashi didn’t know was that their relationship hadn’t been damaged at all by this predicament. He had been assuming that their relationship was damaged because he had pressured Shigaraki to give an answer he clearly didn’t want to let slip, and now Shigaraki was refusing to even let him speak for fear of being forced to let go of any more secrets that he was never supposed to let out. But in Shigaraki’s mind, their relationship was almost stronger because of this, because Shigaraki knew that if Yotsubashi had never pried that answer out of him, he might end up hurting himself and Yotsubashi further than they had already been hurt up to this point.)

And there Shigaraki laid, eventually falling asleep on the bed, surrounded by warmth and swallowed up by a heavy blanket. And there Yotsubashi sat, holding Shigaraki’s hand in his and desperately trying to scrounge up an answer as to why Shigaraki would want himself to die in the first place.

~***~

Chikazoku sighed softly, leaning against the wall to the left of the door to Shigaraki’s room. He had a hand partially obscuring his face on the top half, although the action was mildly redundant, considering that his eyes were now covered by both his bangs and his hand. He and Hanabata had been standing outside of Shigaraki’s room yet again, the door slightly ajar so they could peek in, and only moments after the pair arrived, Shigaraki was finally willing to speak.

Naturally, they listened in.

“So,” Hanabata said after a few moments of excruciating silence, “Shigaraki went out of the villa with the intention of killing himself.” He turned to face Chikazoku, who still had his hand over his eyes, and therefore couldn’t tell Hanabata was looking at him. “Well, then? You had to have known with what you said to me the other day. So out with it, then.”

Chikazoku didn’t speak for a moment. He was either not wanting to say something and eventually decided to speak up or he as contemplating how to word what was about to come out of his mouth. And when he finally did speak, it seemed to be the latter, but it brought two other possibilities along with it. He was either lying to make himself look better in this situation, or he was telling the brutally honest truth. “Well, I knew he had to have left the villa on his own, and I knew that Yotsubashi had nothing to do with him doing so. Of course, I never figured he would try to kill himself via drowning.”

Giving Chikazoku the benefit of the doubt and telling himself that the other man was giving him the most truthful answer, Hanabata let out a sigh and put his hands in his jacket pockets. “Well, the only logic behind him leaving without a vehicle being missing was that he left on his own. But tell me, Tomoyasu… how did you know that Yotsubashi was unrelated to this entire incident?”

“Because I had suspicions of the reasoning behind his initial disappearance.” He said it nearly immediately, indicating that both this answer and the prior answer were most likely the truth. “You see, we were in a meeting with someone else, and that someone made a comment without his knowledge of Shigaraki’s… identity, shall I say? And it pissed him off so badly that he just left without even excusing himself.”

Hanabata got the essence of what he was trying to say, but being the little shit he was, he wanted more than just the essence of Chikazoku’s statement. “Identity, you say,” he said, vaguely but not exactly repeating Chikazoku’s previous set of words. “Are you referring to his sexuality? Or is he secretly considering himself a girl?”

“Not like that, Hanabata,” Chikazoku said in a tone that seemed like a mix of shock and frustration. “Actually, quite the opposite. Shigaraki was born female and transitioned to being male later in life. And we were in a meeting with higher employees of Detnerat, and one of those higher employees made a comment about how trans women were glorified drag queens and trans men were glorified tomboys. We barely got into the actual meeting before Shigaraki left, and he didn’t even say anything before doing so.”

“…well, that’s highly unprofessional, isn’t it?” Hanabata noted, putting a finger to his chin and looking up at the ceiling in thought. “I want you to tell Yotsubashi about this. He needs to fire that employee and help Shigaraki get back up on his feet.”

“…you’re right. That may be the best solution.” Chikazoku sighed and stepped away, pulling out his phone to make a phone call to Yotsubashi.

~***~

Chikazoku called Yotsubashi not long after he left the hallway outside Shigaraki’s room, and when Yotsubashi found out what had happened just before that business meeting, he was- well, “furious” didn’t even begin to describe it. He wanted nothing more than to crush that employee under the heel of his boot, and he wanted nothing more than to tell Shigaraki everything was going to be okay. He definitely couldn’t do the first thing until he had a name (which Chikazoku said he was working on retrieving), but right away, he went back to Shigaraki and began to attempt comforting him.

Yotsubashi didn’t say a word as he opened the door back up and went back over to Shigaraki’s bedside, sitting down in his normal chair and taking Shigaraki’s right hand in both of his. He just stayed there for a while, both not wanting to break the silence and also contemplating how he was going to bring this up with Shigaraki. Obviously, this was a very stressful topic for the younger boy, considering that it was mostly likely the reason that Shigaraki had attempted suicide those four days from this point. Yes, it had been a long and rather grueling four days since Shigaraki had left and been found at the bottom of the frozen pond in the park, and it had only been two and a half day since Shigaraki had woken up. He was still rather sick; he had a near constant fever, a light cough, and couldn’t stop falling asleep due to a lack of energy (and also with contribution from the fever), but he was very much alive, and would eventually make a full recovery. Yotsubashi never wanted to leave his side… at least, not until he completely recovered.

After a few moments of sitting in silence, Yotsubashi finally spoke. “Shigaraki. Chikazoku was the one who called me just a moment ago. And he informed me that you left a meeting around a week ago because one of the employees of Detnerat made some comments that you… did not agree with at all.”

Shigaraki didn’t speak for a moment or so. It seemed to be a combination of him wondering if he wanted to even give a response and him struggling to stay awake long enough to keep the conversation going. “That’s right,” he merely said at first, pausing for a handful of seconds before picking up and adding onto it. “He said things like what my master would have said, you know? The kinds of things that make you sad. The kinds of things that make you angry. The kinds of things that only asshole bigots agree with. The kinds of things… that make you want to kill yourself after you’ve heard them too many times over.”

“So it’s true, then,” Yotsubashi said, his final word coming out wrapped in a heavy sigh. “You attempted suicide because he said something that you felt bad hearing?”

“It wasn’t that I felt bad hearing it. It made me feel that I was a waste of space. That maybe I was wrong to transition the second I was able to. That maybe I was meant to stay Tenko. More than anything else, that I was meant to stay Tenko. When people say transphobic shit like that, it makes me wish that Master—and to some extension, Father—had gone further than yelling and slapping and spankings. It makes me wish that they put me in my place early on by telling me what I was meant for. What I was born to be. I was born to be Tenko. I was meant to be Tenko. But I rejected that to become Tomura… and the words that some people say make me think that I made a mistake by doing that. That I ruined my life by making myself into who I am now.”

Yotsubashi frowned. During everything Shigaraki said, he never spoke a word. He never tempted to interject. He only nodded, rubbed his fingers over the back of Shigaraki’s right hand, and listened to everything he had to say. This wasn’t just him giving Yotsubashi a simple “yes” or “no” answer, but rather it was him venting out his feelings and frustrations to someone whom he trusted with this information. This was something that Yotsubashi had no right interrupting (because it was important for Tomura to let off his chest) and something that Yotsubashi had no right to comment on (because he didn’t know exactly what Tomura was going through due to never having any experience of his own).

After a moment, Shigaraki began to speak again. “It was just unbearable. I wasn’t forced to think about these things for so long because every villain I had ever worked with was so supportive of me. And this this happens after years, and it all just came flooding back. Ho much Master hurt me, both on my body and in my mind. How much my father hated me just for existing and wanting to be something other than what he wanted me to be. And how much I felt I had fucked up just by wanting to be Tomura and not Tenko. So… I went out of the villa. I made my way down to the park. I was just planning to sit out there and eventually die of exposure… but I slipped, I fell back, and I went through the ice. I didn’t try to live. I was just going to let myself drown and let the water consume my body. But then… you saved me.”

Yotsubashi sighed softly at that, finally feeling that he had to make a statement of some kind. “I did what I had to, yes… but I also did what I wanted to. I didn’t want you to die, Tomura.”

“…do you love me?”

“What?” He was brought aback by that question. Never in a million years would he have expected Shigaraki to ask him that, and certainly not following a conversation like the one that had occurred just seconds prior.

“I know you heard me, Yotsubashi. Do you love me?”

(The answer? Yes. he was miserably smitten with Shigaraki, but he knew they would never go beyond holding onto one another as they slept and spending every available moment in the sheets. All he was to Shigaraki was a sex buddy, and he had no shame in admitting that he knew that. What he did have shame in admitting, however, was that he was madly in love with Shigaraki. He had been madly in love with the younger man ever since their first night in the bedroom. They had started with kissing and undressing, and from the very second his lips met the other set, he knew that Shigaraki was the one for him… but he was not the one for Shigaraki, and it broke his heart to know that. Still, Shigaraki wanted the truth, so the truth he would get.)

“…yes,” Yotsubashi admitted, letting out a soft breath. “Yes, I love you. I’ve loved you ever since the first night we spent alone. That first night was pure bliss, yes… but my love for you is more than just for your body. My love for you extends far beyond that. I fell in love with your smile, and your willingness to fight back, and the fact that you’ll ever take anything from anyone. I fell in love with you… and the way you look is just the cherry on top for me. I… I am in love with you, Tomura Shigaraki.”

Shigaraki had started to sit up part of the way through Yotsubashi’s confession, and was now sitting up completely straight and blushing furiously. The answer he had expected was certainly not a positive one, and he was most certainly not expecting the passionate love confession he had just received. He had over his left hand to his chest in a dramatic action of complete shock, and his jaw was dropped to match. After a moment of taking it in, he let out a chuckle. It was one of those laughs that could hardly be considered a “laugh”, and was more accurately described as “a single syllable sound of amusement”. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Yotsubashi couldn’t love him… no matter how desperately he wanted it to be true.

“You have to be lying to me,” he said with another single syllable chuckle following. “It just can’t be true.” He could feel tears starting to make their way out of his eyes and begin traveling down his cheeks.

Yotsubashi, for the first time since Shigaraki had left the villa that fateful night, climbed up onto the bed, careful not to pull on the cannulae connecting the IV in Shigaraki’s arm to the fluid bags as he did so. He sat himself to Shigaraki’s right, and wrapped his right arm around him from behind, using his left hand to reach behind Shigaraki’s head and nudge it towards Yotsubashi’s own. And with that simple action, both mens’ sets of lips were touching. Shigaraki was going to consider it their first kiss—after all, any other “kisses” that they’d had up to this point were only ever made in the heat of passion, and were only ever done to make them even hornier for one another than they had been before. But this? This was a real kiss, and it signified that for the first time, they were more than just friends with benefits.

~***~

“Yotsubashi.”

Chikazoku and Yotsubashi had just left a meeting, and they were finally allowed to have a personal, non-business related conversation. At this point, it had been two weeks since Shigaraki had fallen through the ice, and the younger boy had made a complete recovery (and, as Hanabata put it, he was “back on his bullshit”). Simply put, Yotsubashi had no explanation as to why Chikazoku was pulling him aside, considering there was nothing to worry about regarding Shigaraki.

“Oh, yes!” Yotsubashi kept up his cheerful and manly mildly professional demeanor. He wasn’t going to break character unless he absolutely had to or unless something completely shocked him out of it. “What seems to be the issue, Chikazoku?”

“It’s regarding Shigaraki. He messaged me during the meeting. He said that when you were done, he wanted to see you in his office… whatever that means.” Chikazoku said it with a light wave of the hand. Shigaraki didn’t actually have an office, so the words meant nothing to Chikazoku.

But Yotsubashi knew exactly what he meant, and left with a nod of the head, heading down the hall to meet up with Shigaraki. Eventually, he made his way to the younger boy’s room, which (thankfully) no longer had any medical equipment within, and its only contents were going to be a blue-haired boy laying on the bed. With a small smile, Yotsubashi knocked on the door, waiting there until he heard a brief “come in”, and then opened the door, seeing Shigaraki laying on the bed, wearing nothing but his chest binder and a pair of boxers.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Shigaraki said in a breathy tone, sitting up and turning to look at Yotsubashi. “Are you ready to get down to business?”

Yotsubashi closed the door and gave a soft smile. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

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solomons-poison · 1 year

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hi! i loved your writings about solomon can you do one based on solomon the researcher card? I HAVE READ SO MANY SOLOMON FICS BUT YOURS ARE LITERALLY A MASTERPIECE I CANNOT LIKE ITS SO GOOD HELLO????? you should write about him more like jdhhsjwjajqk

they make solomon seems like a bastard and a really bad character but your fic is just :((((

i was tired because i was working for hours until past midnight and i saw your nsfw fic and i couldn't stop myself about wanting more as a solomon fan

your writings in my heart

Thank you so much, anon, I'm so glad to hear you enjoyed my fic!! 😊 it was certainly a labor of love, but I needed more soft Solomon content in my life. Regarding writing him with a mean attitude, I see the same thing happen with Lucifer a lot, so I understand where you're coming from. Not that I don't enjoy some mean Solomon content occasionally and theres nothing wrong with writing it that way, but he is very soft on MC in canon and I'm a sucker for him that way haha

Unfortunately, I'm not really taking fic requests currently, sorry :( it was actually the Solomon fic that kind of exhausted me of ideas, and I've been struggling to write since. However, I am accepting some headcanon prompts from this list to get me back into the groove of writing. If you want to select something from that list, maybe that fits what you were looking for in the fic, I'd be happy to try and incorporate stuff from that Devilgram into it! You can see examples of my responses in my masterlist, including a Solomon headcanon I posted yesterday

#˗ˏˋ꒰ minx replies ꒱

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kass-storycorner · 3 years

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I really loved your ghost fic with Xiao. But it left me curious to have a second part in which they finally find the way to communicate. Whenever is just to say goodbye and having reader going to the afterlife or getting stuck there forever in an eternal solitary pseudo-company together is up to you, I just want to see them talk 😭

awww, thank you! I'm so glad you loved it (though I am sorry for the sad feelings haha). And I was really struggling to find a way to end that orginal story in the beginning, which is the reason why it ended that way oops. Well, now here is the follow up for it. Compared to the small bit I wrote for Xiao... I mean not even compared to it, this is the longest fic I've posted on here so far? Ah, well. I just had so much fun with it.

Idea/Prompt: a follow up to Xiaos part in this post

Genre: a bit of Angst and Hurt, more comforting than the first part, but if the ending is a happy one is up to you!

Characters: Xiao (Zhongli as side character, mention of Hu Tao, Verr Goldot, a new character I made up that did not get a name)

Format: Text

Word count: 5593

Content warning: mentions of blood, spoiler-y for the second act of Zhonglis story quest and the same spoilers warnings as for the OG post! this is not proof read, I started writing this at midnight and its 5am now ahha fml

The Ghost of you Part II. - To the end

yes we are keeping the mcr names

“Xiao”, he felt an uneasiness in his body upon hearing his name. Where was he? Looking around, Xiao saw he stood in a field of flowers. When did he come here? He had no recollection of it at all. Confused he furrows is brows, worry filling his heart and then- “Xiao.” There it was again, that voice calling out to him. Speaking his name softly, voice filled with affection. Where did it came from? He walked around the field, no end of it in sight, looking for that voice calling out to him. The longer he searched for it, the more his heart was filled with dread. “Xiao.” This time the voice came from behind him and when he turned around, he saw you, holding your hand out to him and smiling. “(Y/N)”, Xiao looked at you in disbelief. Was it really you standing in front of him? Your laugh pulled him out of his trance. “Xiao, why are you standing there like a pillar? Come, take my hand,” and at that you wiggled it a bit, signalling him that you're waiting for him to take it. “(Y/N),” Xiao repeated, standing still and looking at your hand, then to you. “What are you doing here?”. Again, you laughed as if what he said was the silliest thing you ever heard. “What do you mean by that? Xiao,” you shook your head and then you shoot him a bright, warm smile. “You wanted to come here, remember? Now come, take my hand and dance with me before the music stops.” Dance? Music? At first Xiao did not understand what you meant, but then he heard it. In the distance, the low sounds of a flute, a sweet melody that sounded strange but all too familiar. “Xiao”, he heard you whisper his name, speaking so gently. Slowly, he was still a bit hesitant, he reached out for your hand, taking it in his. A smile came across your face at the touch of your hands. With a swift motion Xiao was pulled into your arms, you both at first staying still in that embrace. “Xiao, lets dance, okay?”. With that you both started to waltz around the field, Xiao not knowing how he knew to dance like this, but somehow, he did. The dread that started to spread in his chest earlier was now gone, replaced by the feeling of love he felt for you. Still, there was something tugging at his mind, telling him something was amiss here. It felt familiar, yes. However, it also seemed to be strange to him at the same time. Though Xiao tried to push the nagging feeling away, wanting only to enjoy this pleasant moment with you. Which is why he at first didn’t notice how the sky darkened above them nor that the music had stopped a while ago. As you both stopped to dance, still holding each other in your arms, he heard you call out to him again. “Xiao”, the sound of your voice was filled with pain and when he looked at you in his arms the light behind your eyes was gone, your face stiff and emotionless. At the sight of your dead eyes, he wanted to part from the embrace, but he couldn’t let you go. Xiao saw the blood, saw the bruises and suddenly he was on his knees again, you are laying in his arms. He wanted to cry, wanted to say your name but he couldn’t. It was as if there was no air to breath so he could speak. And then – “Xiao.” His name. “Xiao.” Again. “Xiao.” Over and over again he heard how his name was spoken, but with every whisper of his name the voice became more distorted, louder. Until he cowered in pain at the sound of it, wanting it to stop, wishing for it to stop. “Xiao”.

With that Xiao woke up, his body covered in cold sweat and his breathing erratic. Another nightmare of you, another nightmare of something he wished the both of you could’ve done but never did – because of his shortcomings. Xiao sat atop of a rock, looking over the forest in which your ghost continued to wander aimlessly around. He had been watching you for a few weeks now, trying to figure out what kept you here and how he could help you. However, Xiao was clueless at what could be the cause of this. It was clear to him now that he couldn’t help you, he needed to find someone who could. Looking down at the forest, seeing your ghost wander around between the trees, he softly whispered. “I will be back soon, I won’t leave you again for long, I promise.” There weren’t many people Xiao could ask for help. Back when you were alive Xiao wasn’t the most social, wanting to keep his distance from humans. After you died this habit of his, avoiding others, only worsened. So, the only person Xiao could think of to ask for help in this matter was the same who saved him from his servitude as a bloodhound. Zhongli spend most of the last hundred years among the people of Liyue, but for a few decades now he lived in a remote house. It was now the door of said house Xiao knocked on, knowing that although he could easily enter the house, Zhongli preferred it for him to knock. “Ah, Xiao, it is nice to see you,” Zhongli greeted the adeptus. As Xiao entered the house and followed the tall man into his kitchen, it was a standard practice of Zhongli to drink a tea with anyone who visited, he couldn’t stop to notice that the notebooks scattered around the house grew in number. “So,” Zhongli began his question, “what brings you here? From your troubled look I can tell you didn’t come for the tea or my company.” With that Xiao didn’t waste any time on more formalities, explaining his predicament to the former Geo-Archon. “Mmmh, I see,” he replied, taking a sip from his cup. “I fear I might not be much of help in this case, although I have some knowledge on the topic of the human afterlife, I can’t think of a solution to this. However, it might be best to go ask Hu Tao on advice, as she is way more… let’s say, perceptive when it comes to the dead.” How bothersome, Xiao thought at the mention of Hu Tao. “Zhongli, Hu Tao is long dead”, was all Xiao could say. It happened more frequently now that Zhongli seemed to forget things, small ones but also important pieces of information and this filled Xiao with unease. He didn’t like it that the erosion of Zhongli already was set in motion, thinking about that one-day Xiao might have to face him in battle should he lose all sense of self and sanity. Neither did Zhongli enjoy slowly losing his memories of the past – although he wrote down as much as possible, it bothered him that he had to even rely on his notebooks. “Ah,” Zhongli replied, setting his cup down on the table and with a troubled look, “I seem to have forgotten something again. Would you please help my memory, when did this happen?” “One thousand years might have already passed,” Xiao saw how much it stirred Zhongli up that he had forgotten the passing of a friend. “She had a good life, right? I’m sorry for asking, but I somehow can’t seem to remember much about her later life.” “Yes,” Xiao answered, thinking about the 77th Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. There weren’t many humans he tolerated or even enjoyed being around, but Hu Tao was one Xiao always was fond of. She was also the one at the Parlor that day you died, when Xiao came in with your dead body in his arms, he hoped he might find Zhongli maybe he could do something about it, but… Xiao knew there was nothing anyone could do. Hu Tao understood his pain, without a word she showed him where to put your body and prepared your funeral, without even asking for a single Mora. “Then, “Zhongli pulled Xiao out of his thoughts, “maybe you might find help with the new Director, her family always had some knowledge about that human afterlife that’s even a mystery to me.” With that

Xiao said his goodbye to Zhongli and made his way to Liyue. The city of Liyue changed over the last thousand years a lot, but the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor was still one of the constants in the city. Xiao couldn’t remember the last time he visited the city, though it must have been a few hundred years ago for sure. He just never really liked it and since, what the humans called a ‘industrial revolution’, the city was even more crowded and overwhelming for Xiao. “Welcome to the Wangshen Funeral Parlor, how may I help you?”, a young person greeted Xiao as he set foot into the building. At the enthusiastic way the person greeted him as he entered a funeral home, Xiao was sure this was one of Hu Taos descendants. He barley could imagine anyone else be so happy surrounded by death. “Are you the director?”, Xiao asked in his usual stern voice. “The 107th Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, yep that’s me!” “I may need your assistance.” “Wonderful, I’m always happy to help- oh well, not happy as I am happy for your loss, my condolences by the way, but in happy as I am happy that I can be of help. So, what do you need help with? We have some wonderful new coffins out of a wonderful wood, really they are also very comfortable, not that comfort is that important for someone who’s dead, but I thought it might be also of interest to say that they are really comfort-“, ah yes, Xiao thought, definitely related to Hu Tao. “I don’t need a coffin”, he interrupted the young director. “Oh, um… what can I help with then?”, they asked and then Xiao explained everything to them. At first, he wasn’t sure of the director would be of help, most humans have long forgotten the existence of the gods and adepti, as most of them died or lived a life among humanity, but sure enough the director did turn out to be well versed with the forgotten knowledge of the world. “So, you say the ghost is just roaming around those woods? Nothing else happens?”, the director asked, sitting in their chair in the back office of the Parlor, and they had their hand on their chin, looking like they were thinking about something “Will you be of help now or why do you keep repeating the same useless questions?”, Xiao became a bit impatient now. He just needed to know if someone was able to help you. Without even answering the question the director stood up from the chair and walked towards a bookshelf, pulling a big and old looking book out and opening it up on the table. “Mmmh, from what you’ve described it seems to be nothing to grave, they don’t seem to have become an evil spirit just yet, moreover it seems like they are just one who got lost, though it is surprising that after such a long time the spirit didn’t just turned into something malicious. Normally for most human ghosts it takes a few hundred years until they go insane and well, you know all too well what then happens with an evil spirt I guess.” Xiao was aware what happened to the evils in the world, because it was mostly him. Though he didn’t like to think about it what it would have meant if you- no, he didn’t even want to finish that thought. “How do I help them?”, he didn’t care about any of the other information, he just wanted to find a way to help you. The director pointed at a passage in the book in front of them and continued. “What we have to do is easy if you think about it, I just need something that belonged to the deceased they held dear, a few materials like Qingxin flowers, around twenty should be enough, and the next part is more tricky if you don’t know the deceased that well, which shouldn’t be a problem here, but we need to, well you need to, speak some words that you know are important to them. A story or something like that, sometimes even the voice of a loved one is enough to help to guide the spirits back. Though I will definitely have to accompany that spirit to the border, just to make sure it won’t happen again, you know getting lost, because I can’t guarantee this method will help a second time.” Xiao was quiet. Something that belonged to them, when the director said

those words, his hand immediately flew up to the necklace with the small pendant he wore. Xiao wasn’t the most adept with words, he rather enjoyed listening to what you had to say to him most of the time. He enjoyed the sound of your voice; it was so much more pleasant than his own. One day, Xiao still remembers it so well, your voice said something he did not expect for you to say. “Xiao, I love you.” It took him by surprise, standing on the balcony of the Wangshu Inn, watching the night sky… he suspected that you liked him that way, he did too. Oh, but how he hoped that you wouldn’t say anything about it, like he planned too. Your openness scared him. The idea of being loved scared him, for what was there to love about him? He didn’t want to be a burden to you, his karmic debt, his burden – he feared it would all just make you hate him one day if he let you see it all. That night, after you said these words, Xiao disappeared without a word from your sight. He wasn’t far away, but he wished back then that he teleported out of his hearing range. The sobs that came from you after his departure broke Xiaos heart. After this he avoided you, which wasn’t too hard because you did the same thing too. But with every day that passed when Xiao didn’t see you, hear your voice, his heart grew heavier. Asking himself if he really did do the right thing. Verr Goldet approached Xiao a few weeks after your confession, inquiring why now you didn’t come to the Inn anymore. Xiao did not answer her question, but Verr was a smart woman and at the look in his eyes she understood. “Don’t give up someone you love, only because you are scared of the love you both feel for each other, Xiao”, was all she said. This was the final push for Xiao to finally get over himself and embrace the feelings he felt for you. He didn’t know anymore where the idea came from, but he decided to gift you a handmade necklace along side his confession. Xiao was scared that it might be too late for telling you that he felt the same. However, he knew he had to do it and he wanted to give you something that showed you how he felt too. So Xiao collected the material all around from Liyue, creating a metal necklace and using a small piece of Cor Lapis, your favourite you told him once, as the pendant. With that he looked for you, finding you sitting in the middle of a flower field. “(Y/N)”, he said, stopping himself from continuing when he saw how you jumped at your own name. “Xiao! You scared me!”, you quickly stood up and turned around to him. Xiao wasn’t the most adept with words, he enjoyed listening to you – but you stayed quiet after facing him and you kept quiet when Xiao came closer. “I-“, he began, but unable to speak the words he so wished you to hear from him. Instead, he took your hand and put the necklace in it. “I- I made you this,” was all he could say, feeling how fast his heart pounced in his chest. The look in your eyes, Xiao saw the love you felt for him in them. “Xiao, I-“, he saw how you viewed the necklace in your hand, tears starting to form at the corners of your eyes. Before you were able to finish the sentence or let the tears fall down, Xiao took your face in his hands and kissed you. Yes, he wasn’t the most adept with words, but he learned that he could show you how much he loved you in other ways.

From that day on you wore that necklace every single day, never taking it off since Xiao but it on you after the shared kiss. You joked that it was a physical representation of your love for each other, though Xiao felt like you actually meant it. And somehow it really was. Xiao remembered how that necklace was still around you neck when he took your body to Hu Tao, he remembered that it was covered with your blood. He didn’t even think about taking it off you. It was Hu Tao who gave him that necklace after your burial and since then he hadn’t taken it off. It was the last thing he had of you, the last reminder of your love for each other and every night after your death, when he cowered in pain because of his karmic debt, the cool touch of the stone on his skin helps him to stay sane. Just like the flute he heard even long before he met you.

When Xiao and the director arrived at the forest, they collected the flowers on their way, he could see your ghost again. Walking around, calling for him. His heart breaks every time he had to witness your suffering. “Okay, we have the flowers… do you have something that belonged to them with you, Xiao?”, the director asked, and Xiao shifted his focus from you to them. Slowly he took the necklace off, feeling somehow so vulnerable without it, and gave it to the director. “You know where they start their walk and end it right?”. Yes, Xiao knew that. He had watched over your ghost for the past couple of weeks and noticed that you were walking in circles, without even knowing so it seemed, starting from the place you died and ending up there again. Although your body was buried in another part of Liyue and already long gone, taken back by nature, you stayed here. Where you died. Xiao wished he had come here earlier. Together with the director Xiao made his way to the place where your life ended and your endless suffering in a sort of limbo started, laying down the flowers and the necklace. “And how is that supposed to help them now?”, he asked, not sure how any of this will work. “Like I said, we put down something that belonged to them and was important because they will gravitate to the feelings still connected with that object. The flowers are helping, because they built a bridge between the living realm and what state they are in. Now we just need some words that they have a connection with, in the past it used to be certain prayers because people kept using them a lot, but you know it honestly doesn’t matter what you say, it just needs to be connected to them in some way. Maybe their favourite story or a lullaby, there are many possibilities.” “A lullaby, huh,” this was something Xiao hadn’t thought about in a long time. “Xiao, are you alright?”, he heard your voice from across the dark room. It was the middle of the night, normally he would be out killing monsters, but for tonight you were able to make him sleep with you. When you found out that he never sleeps you were shocked, though he tried to calm you saying that an adeptus didn’t need to sleep. “Maybe you don’t need to,” you told him with a stern look, hands on your hips, “but it will be good for you too, believe me!”. And somehow, after each of you confessed the feelings for the other, you were able to make him sleep next to you some nights. Just for that night his karmic debt plagued Xiao. He sat in front of your window, trying to keep his distance from you, not wanting to disturb your sleep and he didn’t want to worry you. “Xiao?”, you asked again, but instead of an answer Xiao growled in pain. Suddenly you were beside him. “Don’t”, he said through gritted teeth as you tried to touch him. “You’re in pain, let me help you.” He saw your worried painted face, ashamed that you had to see him like this. “It’s fine, I’m used to it. Don’t worry.” “Don’t tell me not to worry when I see the person I love most suffering,” and with that you took his hand. “Please Xiao, let me help you.” Even when he wasn’t in such a weakened state it was hard for Xiao to refuse you and now – all he wished for was your comforting touch. You led Xiao back to bed and when you noticed how he had a fever you quickly prepared a cold and wet towel for him. As you both lied down in bed you took Xiao in your arms. “I don’t know if this will help,” you began after a short amount of silence, “but when I was a child my mother always used to sing this lullaby to help me fall asleep. She even continued singing it when we were older and got sick… it always helps me feel better and at ease, shall I sing it to you?”. Xiao only gave a small nod, not believing it would help when you sang that song for the first time. But it did, you soothed his pain and helped him fall asleep. From that night on you would sing it more often to Xiao, he never asked for it but you somehow always knew when he wished to hear it, especially on the nights when is karmic debt caused him great pain. That lullaby became

another sign of how much you loved each other – the necklace was Xiaos gift, the song yours.

Now there he stood, in this forest that once was just a plain field, the flowers and necklace to his feet singing that lullaby. Xiao never sang it when you were alive, he never sang at all. No matter how much you begged him to sing for you, this was something he always refused to do. Thinking about how beautiful your voice sounded, he never wanted to soil this song with his voice.

It felt like you screamed for Xiao for hours and hours on end, but your voice doesn’t hurt. Where were you? What had happened? In your head you repeated and repeated the last things you could remember again and again. You were walking in the fields, wanting to collect some crystal flies for a commission. Then you remembered that you were attacked, who or what attacked you slipped your mind. However, the fight was tedious and hard… and then you called for Xiao. That’s it. That’s all you could remember. But where was he? Where was Xiao? Didn’t he say he would always come when you called out for him? Why didn’t he come now? You feared that he was still angry with you, though you didn’t know anymore why he even should be angry with you in the first place. The two of you had a fight yes, but… was that it? You spend so much time apart, did he just decide you weren’t worth his time anymore? Did he maybe stop loving you? Those thoughts filled you with dread and you wanted to cry, cry at the thought of Xiao not loving you anymore, but somehow you couldn’t. So you kept calling for him, over and over again. “Xiao,” you screamed. “XIAO!” And then you heard something, at first you weren’t sure what it was, but there was a noise. You stopped calling out for him, trying to focus on where the sound came from, following the direction. It got louder and – was that Xiao singing? The closer you came towards the sound, towards Xiaos voice singing that lullaby… your mothers’ lullaby, the lullaby that became yours and Xiaos. Which he always refused to sing, no matter how much you pleaded. The closer you came you started to remember the things that happened more clearly. How you didn’t want to call for Xiao at first that day, how something hit you in your stomach and how you felt the blood gusher out of you. Yes, you remember how you couldn’t stand anymore and all that was on your mind was Xiao, you wanted to see him again. Just once. You wanted to tell him how sorry you were, how stupid it was for you to fight and how stupid it was to wait this long to call for him. You wanted to say this to him, all of it. But all you remember you said was his name. “Xiao.”

He stopped singing, his head flying up seeing your ghost stand right in front of him. His name. You just said his name. “Xiao,” you said it again, this time he heard you say it clearly and you looked right at him, not through. “(Y/N)”, it came more out as whisper. This is what he wanted. He wanted you to see him, to get out of that limbo, but why does it still hurt as much? “Ah, seems like it worked, great!”, the director interrupted the moment, looking at Xiao and the ghost of you. “I ummm- I’m gonna leave the two of you alone for a while, so you can talk things out, say your goodbyes, yadayadayada.” With that the director walked away and it was just you and Xiao.

“I-“, Xiao began, but somehow his voice failed him. What was there to say? What should he say? “Xiao,” he heard the hesitance in your voice. “Xiao, I am dead, right?”. He couldn’t stand looking at you, his eyes avoiding yours as he gave his short answer. “Yes.” “I see,” you replied quietly. You slowly started to remember the nights you stood on the field, waiting for him to come. “Why,” you weren’t sure if you wanted an answer to your question, “why didn’t you come? After, you know… I- I waited for you. I called you. Why-?”. “I felt guilty. It was my fault, if I just hadn’t tried to push you away again, then you wouldn’t have died, I’m so sorry,” his voice was so quiet, but you could hear how he tried to hold back the tears. “Xiao,” at hearing his name again he looked back at you, you now seeing the tears that pooled at the corner of his eyes. “It wasn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have pushed you… and I should have called for you earlier. But Xiao,” you saw how the tears started to fall down his face, “it wasn’t your fault.” He couldn’t hold it in any longer, Xiao fell to his knees, hands in his face and crying. “Please,” he sobbed. “Please, forgive me. I should have protected you that day, I should have come here earlier and see what was happening… please, forgive me.” You walked towards Xiao, reaching out your hand, wanting to touch him. Wanting to take him in your arms, but you couldn’t. It broke your heart. “Xiao, please, please look at me,” he did, his eyes red and filled with his tears. “There is nothing to ask for forgiveness for, you did nothing wrong Xiao. It’s alright. I’m sorry for leaving so soon, for running away that day we had this stupid fight. I don’t even know what it was about…”. “I don’t know either”, Xiao admitted and somehow you had to laugh a bit at that. None of you ever remembered why you fought even in the first place, all of this nearly felt so normal. But it wasn’t. Xiao wiped away the tears from his eyes and stood up again, this time to be able to face you. You looked just like he remembered, except for the see-through part but… your smile hasn’t changed. Even if this was a sad one. “Xiao, how much time has passed since I died?” That question surprised him. “Around…”, he was hesitant to tell you the truth. Should he really tell you? “Xiao,” and you looked at him and he knew that he couldn’t hide the truth. “A thousand years perhaps.” Thousand years, you thought. For thousand years he walked around with this guilt, for thousand years he kept that necklace that still was on the ground… for thousand years he lived his life, still mourning you it seemed. “Did you get over me?”. Again, another question he didn’t expect. Why were you asking him this? Did he get over you? “No, every single day since you died you were on my mind, I couldn’t forget you and I do not wish to. I can never get over you.” This wasn’t the answer you hoped for. “Xiao, I’ve been dead for thousand years. Even if I hadn’t died that day, I would have died on another one. Thousand years compared to what, sixty? Maybe seventy years if I had lived a full life is nothing. Humans are weak after all, aren’t we?”. You didn’t mean to stir him up with your last comment, it was more intended as a joke, alas a sad one, but somehow you struck a nerve within him. “No, they are not. I always said that, but I was wrong (Y/N). I don’t understand how you human can live your life, knowing that you will die, that those you love will inevitably die. How you can idly sit next to people you care about forgetting important things, things about themselves, struggle to remember who they are, seeing them die… and you move forward. I watched over you humans for such a long time, protecting you and I still- I don’t understand how. How can they love again? Where does the strength come from to keep moving forward?”, Xiao’s voice was full of pain, you heard it clear as day, seeing how tears rolled down his face again. You felt that there were even other things weighing heavy on him, not only you, but you knew that you couldn’t comfort him. That this was

something he needed to figure out himself. “Xiao, you will learn. You will understand it one day, it just takes time.” Your voice heavy with sadness and oh, how you wished you could take him in your arms, wipe his tears away and kiss him.

Before Xiao could reply anything in return the director disturbed the two of you again. “So, are you ready now?”, looking directly at you. “No, but I stayed here for far too long now, didn’t I?”, a sad smile coming across your face. You really didn’t want to leave, but you knew you couldn’t stay any longer. It was time. “I will come with you as far as I can,” Xiao had wiped his tears away and stood now right next to you. If you still had a body your shoulders would touch.

Xiao and the director accompanied you to the border of life and death in silence. Before you crossed it you looked at Xiao. He looked so sad, as if he was to lose you a second time. “I wish,” you heard him say, “that you could stay just a bit longer. I know it’s selfish, but I just wished you could have stayed by my side forever. But you can’t stay, and you shouldn’t.” “Xiao, I feel the same. I wish I could have spent eternity with you, but I can’t and it okay. I just want to ask you for one thing, one last promise before I go, okay?”. Xiao looked at you with a heavy heart. “Yes.” “Promise me you will try to find happiness for yourself again, okay? Promise me you will love again, please. Don’t stay alone.” Silently Xiao looked at you to then finally say “I promise.” “Thank you Xiao,” Archons, you wished you could take his hand. “Now then,” you said looking in the directions you had to go. “Time to go.” “(Y/N)”, you heard Xiao say before you left. “I love you.” “I love you too, Xiao.” As Xiao and the director left the border, he stayed quiet, the atmosphere being quite sombre. “Maybe,” the director pulled Xiao out of his thoughts, “there is nothing behind the border and they stopped existing completely. But maybe their soul will now find a way back to you, just in another way? Who knows,” and with that the director left. Xiao didn’t know if he believed that you would find a way back to him, but as it started to rain and as it fell down on his skin, Xiao felt now lighter as if a heavy burden was taken off of him. With that he started to move forward again.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fan fiction #reader x xiao #xiao x reader #xiao #genshin impact xiao #angst #hurt #comfort #xiao angst #genshin angst #gn!reader #xiao x gn!reader #writing #fan fiction #zhongli #genshin impact zhongli #genshin writing

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buckyownsmylife · 4 years

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Catch me - Tom Hardy smut

The one where you’re Tom’s neighbor and he comes to your place after he’s locked out of his house on a rainy night. Requested by anon. + Dry Humping also requested by different anon ask

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, cursing

A/N: okay, so here it is! My Tom Hardy requested smut! I’d also like to announce that I’ll be attempting to partake in this years’ Kinktober, and this is my first fic, fulfilling the prompts dry humping + face sitting. I’ll post the list of prompts I created for myself, along with the characters they are paired up with, a bit later. I also say “attempting” because I actually had a pretty bad accident last night and I’m still unable to do regular things like sitting or walking, so it’s been a struggle to get this done. If in anyday I am unable to write, I won’t force myself to do it. But that’s all, please enjoy this fic and let me know what you think of it! My requests are now empty, so feel free to send me any ideas you might have - I can either integrate them in one of my fics for the kinktober challenge or work on them in November.

Tom’s P.O.V.

I had watched with only partly concealed interest as the new neighbor slowly grew more comfortable at her place right next door to me. At first, it truly was just a slight curiosity founded in my observation of just how beautiful she was. But then, one day, right after she moved in, she caught me staring, and opened up the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen. Just like that, I was stuck with a teenage-boy crush that left me blushing and stuttering every single time she so much as looked my way.

If there was one thing people knew about me, was that I was not the blushing, stuttering type.

But things only got worse as time went on. She turned out to be just the perfect neighbor, usually coming around to offer me cookies or other baked goods precisely when I needed it the most.

“How do you always know when I’m feeling down or hungry, sweetheart?” I even ended up asking as I accepted yet another tray of brownies from her tiny hands. Her sweet little giggle went straight to my pants, instantly hardening my severely ignored member.

“It’s not that hard to figure out, Tom. Anytime you get back home this late, I can pretty much assume you barely had anything to eat all day, and it’s very clear you won’t have the energy to whip up anything right now.” My eyebrows raised up at her comment, but before I could satiate my curiosity, she quickly added, “And before you ask, no, I don’t spend my life looking out of the eyehole, you just have pretty loud steps when you’re tired, I can easily hear from my living room when you walk the hallway during the evening.”

Chuckling, I nodded, granting her that. I knew that she meant no harm, but I couldn’t help but to feel embarrassed. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll try to be more mindful next time.” Her eyes widened at my apology, and she immediately waved my words away, clearly mortified by the fact that I had interpreted it as a complaint.

“Gosh, Tom, no, that’s not what I… Please, don’t worry about it. I’m just a terrible insomniac, and I have good ears. It’s not like you’re waking me up every time you come home or anything. That would be a bummer, but also highly improbable, since I’m a very heavy sleeper…” I had come to understand that she was very capable of maintaining a conversation completely by herself, but everytime she took notice of it, she scrambled to get out of my sight. I figured someone in her life must have told her she talked too much, but personally, I’d do anything to witness her little monologues at least a bit more. She just seemed so interesting, and selfless despite the constant stream of consciousness that poured out of her lips whenever she was nervous.

I liked knowing I made her nervous. It made me feel less terrible about wanting to know more about her. Did that make me a creep? Hell, probably. But I couldn’t pretend like I gave a damn. I felt this inexplicable attraction to her, her personality and body, and that was it. I wanted to uncover what it was about her that had me so engrossed.

And one night, the opportunity presented itself to me. I had gone out of my car in a hurry because of the rain that had decided to pour all over the city and didn’t look like it was stopping any time soon, so I only noticed that I had locked my keys on the trunk of the car when I was already in front of my own apartment’s door, dripping all over the hallway.

Fuck, that was just so typical of me. Why did I even bother to get my backpack out of the car, when I was already arriving home close to midnight and would be back at work early in the morning? It wasn’t like I would have the time to use my computer or anything.

Sighing, I ran a wet hand over my face in an effort to figure out my next move. Obviously I would need to get someone to open my car for me, but in the middle of the night, it’d be hard to know who would come. It would definitely be easier to find someone in the morning, and I could very well get an Uber to some cheap motel and spend the night there.

I was about to do just that when suddenly the door behind me opened, and a delicious smell of lasagna filled my nostrils, making me aware of just how hungry I was. “Tom?” Her sweet, sweet voice instantly calmed my tense muscles, making me open a smile at the sight of her despite the series of events I had just lived through. “Is something wrong?”

A low chuckle escaped my lips at the awareness of just how pathetic my situation was, but there was no real humour in my tone. I looked down at my wet shoes before gathering the courage to look her in the eye again, giving her a small smile. “I locked myself out,” was all I said, and before I could even further explain my situation, her eyes had widened and she was reaching out to me, holding me by my wrist and pulling me inside of her place.

“You poor thing. And right on the worst night for it to happen? Here, sit down while I go look for something you can change into. Wouldn’t want you catching a cold, would we?” I briefly considered offering some kind of protest, explaining how I intended to go spend the night in a motel, but the truth was, I didn’t want to. It was late, I was tired and I was really fucking cold and just by being in the close proximity of this beautiful creature, I already felt a little bit better, so I’d just shut up and wait to see how this would play out for me.

She came back with some sweatpants and a large cotton shirt, a bashful look on her face. “I bought these sweatpants from the male’s department because they’re usually comfier than the ones I find in the female department, they should fit you well.” I accepted the small bundle of fabric she offered, one eyebrow raised as I stared down at her in curiosity.

“What about the shirt?” I asked, and she blushed five different shades of pinks and reds, making her just that much cuter. It made me want to eat her whole, and the fact that she stood a few good feet under me didn’t help that at all. I knew I could break her so easily.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I felt like I could slap myself over how silly I was behaving over something so ordinary. Why would Tom care about me having an ex? It was only natural, it’s not like I was a blushing virgin nun who never did anything slightly out of the ordinary. Sex was ordinary. I’ve done it before. I’m sure Tom wouldn’t assume I hadn’t.

Oh, what am I saying? There’s no way he has even considered this subject when it comes to me. Why on Earth would he be thinking about my sexual past? What is going on with me? I feel like I’m going insane.

I could feel just how warm my face had gotten, but I still had some amount of pride in me to salvage the situation, so I managed to roll my eyes as I pushed Tom further inside my house, in the direction of my bathroom.

“You’re a smart man, you can figure out where the shirt came from.” His chuckle shouldn’t be so sexy, but what about this man wasn’t?

“That’s not the answer I hoped for.” And with that mysterious sentence, he locked himself in my bathroom and left me alone with my thoughts. Granted, most of them revolved around him, so I couldn’t really say I was that alone, but the lack of someone to talk to only meant that my mind was swirling and a lot of different things I shouldn’t be thinking about managed to dominate my head.

Just what did he mean by what he said? Could it be that he… No, of course not. There was no reason for him to be jealous of me. It’s not like he could possibly want me. Right?

I spent the entire time he was taking a shower stuck in the same pattern of thoughts, so much so that I didn’t even notice he had come back to the kitchen and was watching me from the doorway until he cleared his throat, making me jump out of my skin while carrying a plate full of very hot lasagna.

“Oh,” was all I said as I felt some of the sauce spill on my hand and my chest, some even managing to get on my face. But Tom’s rough ‘Shit’ brought a giggle to my lips, despite the discomfort of the slight burning sensation on my skin.

“‘M sorry, sweetheart. I thought you’d noticed me standing here.” While he assured me of his lack of intention to hurt me - as if I didn’t already know- he had grabbed the plate I was still holding onto and placed it on the counter, quickly procuring an already dirty rag and eagerly starting to clean me up, first my hand, and then…

Before he pressed the fabric to my chest, he looked up at me, his beautiful eyes catching mine and making me suck in a breath. “T-that’s alright,” I managed to get out, trying to look away from his hypnotizing gaze. “It doesn’t really hurt that bad. I think with a bit of cold water it might calm down.”

He nodded, agreeing with my words, but his gaze still searched mine for something I didn’t understand. “I sure hope so,” was all he said initially, his eyes finally dropping from mine to focus on the task at hand. “But I must say, I’m very disappointed.”

The comment puzzled me, rendering me useless for the time being. I could only tilt my head as I looked down at him, still crouching in front of me to clean my chest before he finally stood up on his full height and grabbed my face, gently engulfing it in one of those huge palms of his.

“I was really hoping that you were single, but I guess that would be expecting too much from the universe, considering how beautiful you are.” My eyes grew twice their normal size as I immediately tried to push him away and hide my face from his view, suddenly incredibly shy. But of course, he didn’t let me, instead pressing me against the counter and his very hard body, while he very carefully wiped away the few drops of sauce on my cheek.

For a few seconds, I let him work in silence, still trying to gather my nerves so I could say something. I should say something, shouldn’t I? I mean, here lies an opportunity that I never thought I’d experience, and here I was, being all silly about it. Finally, when he had at last finished slowly rubbing the rag against my skin, and seemed to be about to separate himself from me, I sprung into action, pulling him to me again by his forearms.

“I-I am,” that’s all I managed to say, immediately cringing at my own lack of social skills. “Single, I mean.” Very smooth. Well done, Y/N. But despite my stupidity, it seemed that I was able to achieve my intention, since my sentence made Tom finally get rid of the rag and hold my face between both of his hands now, his thumbs softly running over my cheekbones.

“Oh, is that so?” He breathed out against my skin, our lips inches away from one another, and I shivered against my best wishes. That reaction caused a predatory smirk to appear on his face, and I knew then and there that I was in way over my head. “Good to know,” he whispered, and then his lips were on mine, forcing me to accept his tongue, eating me whole.

He tasted like peppermint and coffee and I was already addicted to his taste, hoping to God I tasted as great to him as he did to me. At least, he didn’t complain. In fact, by the way he sucked on my tongue, forcing his deep inside my mouth, I’d go as far as to say that he did like what he tasted.

Before long, he had pulled me up on the counter, his hands holding me by my waist as his lips ventured from my mouth to my jaw, until they found a spot on my neck that made me gasp and hold his shirt tightly, and then he was sucking, rolling his tongue on the spot where I could already feel a bruise forming, before his teeth carved their own impressions on my skin, imprinting himself on me.

My head swirled with the force of the emotions bursting through me. My legs wrapped themselves around his strong body, and I was happy that my hands knew what to do when my mind hadn’t still managed to catch up to this turn of events. When his tongue came out to lick right over my collarbones, the response gasp he elicited from me came out sounding much more like a sob than anything else.

“You’re so sensitive, princess,” He teased me, still otherwise occupied with marking my skin as his. “I’ve barely even started and here you are…” His hands ran through the expanse of my body, like he was showing his proof to an audience. “... a mess already.”

He wasn’t wrong. I was somehow dripping already. I could feel it, dripping from inside of me, slowly ruining the panties I was wearing. They were so not appropriate for the activities I was currently partaking in, but how the hell would I have known this was going to happen?

All I knew was that Tom had lit the fire inside of me, and now the flames were threatening to swallow us both.

Tom’s P.O.V.

She was just too cute, so out of breath and trembling with desire with the little I’d done to tease her. It just made me want to ruin her even more. My little neighbor, so perfect and sweet, so needy for me.

She didn’t even realize she had started to grind herself against me, in search of some sort of release. Well, I wasn’t about to cut her off. Unstead, I took advantage of my grip on her, pulling her body until I was the one keeping her up, trapped between my body and the counter.

“Rub your tiny wet cut against my jeans, love,” I ordered in a demanding whisper right on her ear, making her shiver. She obeyed without any sort of hesitation, looking up at me underneath her eyelashes with her eyes glazed over with lust. “That’s it…” Fuck if the pressure wasn’t exactly what I needed to help ease up some of the tension from the need I was feeling in my veins. “Rub yourself against my hard cock, don’t be shy.”

My words seemed to be gasoline for her, giving her the push she needed to grind herself even harder against my bulge. I decided to help her, pushing her more firmly against the counter and following the movements, rejoicing in the pleasure gasp that escaped her lips as the added pressure provided more friction to her clit.

“Fuck…” She whispered, and I think that in the entirety of the four months of conversations I’d entertained with her, that was the first time I’d heard her cuss. The four letter word I was so familiarized with had a new, unexpected effect on me, making the situation inside my pants so difficult I had to stop my movements and slow hers down by her hips, so I wouldn’t just jizz on my pants like a fucking teenager.

But Y/N didn’t stop, despite accepting my silent request to decrease the fervor of our activities. When I finally managed to get control over myself again, I realized why. She had gripped the counter behind her and was using it to better control her movements, and it was clear by the way her head hung back and her mouth fell open that she was about to cum just like that.

“Shit,” I cussed just as the realization hit, and it felt like all of the control I’d managed to build in the last few seconds I closed my eyes had suddenly escaped through the window. My cock was painfully hard again, and all I could think of was that I needed to get out of these fucking jeans.

Who could blame me, though? When she looked like that, creaming her panties with her clothes still on? Shit, I couldn’t wait to get her naked and underneath me. I needed to feel her from the inside, explore her wetness with my hard cock.

But first, I was desperate to get a taste of her. So as soon as her breathing came back to a somewhat regular pattern, I was careful to put her on the ground again, making sure she was able to stand on her own legs, before dropping to my knees in front of her.

“What are you… Oh.” I couldn’t help but to chuckle at the innocence of her mind that stopped her from immediately understanding what I intended to do, but then I was pushing her skirt up and away from my view and her panties were in front of me and they were drenched, absolutely ruined by the sticky liquid that made my mouth water.

“Fuck, princess…” I moaned as I carefully peeled the cotton fabric down her legs, keeping it pooled around her ankles as I pushed her legs open as far as they could go. She was dripping, a single line of her wetness connecting both of her thighs, making me groan at the sight. “You might just kill me…” I commented before reaching up to pull her to me, effectively burying my face on her.

“T-Tom!” The sound of my name escaping her lips with that reverent tone left me even hungrier for her, as did her exquisite taste. It painted my tongue with its sweetness, embedding itself in my cells, making sure I’d never be able to forget it. I already knew I’d be hungry for her again the second I pulled away from her cunt.

Nonetheless, I forced myself to stop for a moment to gather my senses, as her taste made it harder and harder to control my need to relieve my aching member. I needed to be inside of her, and quickly.

Abruptly rising up to my full height, I picked her up by the back of her thighs so she’d wrap her legs around me and took us to where I’d assumed her bedroom would be, considering I was familiarized with the general layout of the apartments. The second I laid her on the bed, my hands were struggling with my own belt, as I watched her pull her dress over her head, now completely bare before me.

“You’re so fucking hot.” When my pants dropped to the floor and my cock slapped my lower stomach, I pounced on her immediately, crawling on the space between her legs and pulled her by the back of her neck to connect our lips once more. “Do you want to be railed tonight, pretty neighbor?”

She fucking whimpered in response, repetitions of “yes” and “please” escaping her lips as she tried to pull me closer to her by the legs she embraced me with. Not having it in me to stop this moment any longer, I gripped my member with one of my hands while I held her hips down with the other, briefly rubbing the blunt head of my cock over her sensitive clit before pushing myself completely inside of her.

“Oh, fuck,” I groaned, blindsided by the tightness, wetness and warmness that now surrounded me. “I knew your cunt would be fucking delicious.” I watched her as I pulled out until just my tip was inside of her, only to push it back in as forcefully as I could.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, her hands flew up to hold my shoulders, almost as if she wanted to push me away or tell me to take it easy, but as her legs continued to pull me even deeper inside, I knew what she really needed was to be properly fucked.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Tom was not exaggerating; he really did pound me against my mattress, immediately setting up the most brutal of paces. It hurt, especially with how much he was stretching me, but it felt too fucking good to complain about it.

The only thing I could do was to relax and accept this invasion, this possession of my body by my next-door neighbor. I knew I must have been quite a vision, my arms thrown up in search of something to hold on to, spit escaping the corner of my lips by the intensity of the thrusts, my breasts shaking as he pulled me back to meet his thrusts by my hips. I hoped I’d have some bruises on the shape of his fingertips to remember this night.

Not like I would ever be able to forget, anyway. Only a lunatic would expel the visions of Tom looking like this while fucking them, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, the sweat gathering over his eyebrows. I wanted to kiss it away. I wanted to taste its saltiness.

Just as my head began to twirl in time with the growth of arousal in my lower belly, Tom’s eyes travelled upwards from the point where his cock was buried inside of me to find my breasts, one of his hands immediately following suit. When his pull on my nipple was accompanied by the feeling of his warm mouth engulfing the other one, I screamed as I came all around him, my head thrown back and eyes closed as I relished in the feeling of being so perfectly filled, so perfectly touched.

“Fuckin’ tight.” Tom fucked me through my orgasm, but at the sight of my eyes blinking back open, he pulled out, easily manhandling me into turning around and rising on all fours. “This fucking ass… Do you have any idea how long I dreamt about fucking you like this?”

I didn’t know how, but his words and the way his huge hands sprawled over the cheeks of my butt reignited the flames that had just been fed, and I found myself pushing back against him, offering myself up to him. Anything to get his cock inside of me again.

“Please…” I all but begged, and I heard his breath hitching behind me. “Just… please keep fucking me.” Perhaps that was all that he needed, because in a second his cock was tearing me open again, so fucking deep that I could feel it in my stomach.

“Fuck… If I had known how it would look to have my little perfect neighbor begging for my cock, I would have fucked you ages ago.” Every single thing that came out of that man’s mouth was like sin. He wrapped my hair around his fist, suddenly using it to pull me back to him as he raised one of his legs to the mattress, the new angle making each of his thrusts hit that spot inside of me that made everything just a little more satisfying.

I could feel tears running down my cheeks, falling on my spread out hands as I struggled to keep breathing through his assault on my senses. “Are you gonna cum again, love?” I could hear him asking, and I wanted to answer, I really did, but every time I opened my mouth, only sobs came out. “Are you? Here, let me help you out.”

The feeling of his rough fingers softly caressing my clit was such a stark contrast to the way he was still brutally pounding into me that instead of trying to push him away from my much too sensitive lower region, I opened my eyes in surprise as another orgasm took over me, somehow even stronger than the previous ones.

“Yeah, that’s it… Fuck. Come for me, sweetheart. Wanna feel your cunt milking my fucking cock.” His words did nothing to help ease my arousal, and just when my arms started to give out, I felt him spilling inside of me. “FUCK!” He shouted, following my body’s motions until he was covering me with his own torso, still very much inside of me.

His thrusts finally coming to a stop after he had slowly fucked his cum inside of me, I felt his thumbs caressing my hips as I remained face planted on my mattress. “Well, this isn’t how I expected this night to go, but I can’t say I’m not satisfied.”

A snort was all I could give him as he finally pulled out and allowed his body to fall by my side, giving me a quick kiss on the shoulder that was closer to him. “You ok?” He asked, and I snorted again.

“More than okay. You still haven’t eaten though.” It was the truth. After all of this… incredible distraction from my cooking plans, he still hadn’t gotten around to eat dinner. I heard him take a deep breath next to me as he pondered his answer.

“Really? ‘Cause I remember eating some very delicious pussy a few minutes ago.” It took me a few minutes to process what he had said, but when I did, I turned around to playfully hit his chest while feeling my face warm up from the reality of what we had just done.

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re hot.” And when he put it in such simple terms, as he pulled me in his arms so that I could cuddle his chest, how could I feel embarrassed?

#tom hardy #smut #tom hardy smut #my fics #tom hardy reader #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy fics #tom hardy one shot #tom hardy oneshots #tom hardy fic #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy y/n #tom hardy writing #tom hardy imagine

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thyandrawrites · 3 years

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Do you think that Dabi relates to Spinner in some way? They both as you mentioned have quirks that were not necessarily seen as “strong” considering weak constitution against fire and lack of further abilities in Gecko. At moments they get along and other times they don’t, but maybe because Dabi understands a bit about the quirk thing that he tries to undermine Spinner to make himself look good (not exactly this, but I can’t really form the right sentence, forgive me it’s midnight and I got a random thought 😂)

Hey! While it's true that Dabi has a lot in common with several league members, I wouldn't say that he realizes that. He's too closed off to allow himself to relate to them on a more personal level, past the idea that he's just there to exploit their resources. Much as Earlyroki, he's still stuck at that stage of "I'm not here to make friends". He denies himself the very chance to feel any warmth for them, and when called out, he says that the League doesn't matter to him. He wants us to believe that he's not there because he fits with them, but because they're pawns in his plan to get revenge against his dad.

I'd even go as far as saying that his constant name-calling, the antagonizing of the other league members is part of his defense mechanism. He calls Toga a freak, Spinner a cosplayer, he questions if the group is following any ideology to begin with. All of that as if to state "I am built different from all of you". Cause that way he can better reject the idea of feeling a human connection with them.

Yet... Yet his actions hint in the opposite direction, no matter the harshness of his words at times. Dabi does care about them in his own way. He didn't have to come back for Twice, yet he did. And despite Hawks' claims, he was mourning him. Manic laughter has always been his primary mean of expressing his sadness.

What I meant with my post is that it's likely that the League is supposed to represent something that he always denied needing: a sense of purpose. A place where he can belong as he is, where no one tells him to stop using his flames, where no one complains about him having a personal agenda, a place where he's given responsibility and trust without it being the only thing that defines him. I think he needed this, and it might matter more to him than he realizes. So much so, in fact, that he's scared of losing it (though he rationalizes that as needing the League to make his move against his dad)

For all the walls he built around himself, some part of Dabi is invested in the League's well-being. consider: if he really didn't give a shit about them aside from their usefulness, why would he bother being so selctive about potential new recruits (in the aftermaths of Chisaki killing Magne, might I add) and why would he burn to a crisp those he labels as "unworthy"? Cannon fodder doesn't have to be particularly exceptional. AFO sure wasn't as picky when he recruited a bunch of lowlives so weak they were easily defeated by the kids at Usj (who had just started the hero course). Sometimes just having the numbers on your side can make all the difference. Think of how the League only survived the mla because of Machia's prompt intervention.

But no, Dabi wants his members to have his seal of approval. He makes it a point to state that he won't recruit anyone who doesn't have "conviction", and then promptly scouts a hero of all people. A rescue-based hero, to be specific. Someone whose heroic dedication he thought he could perfectly see through (so much so that he was counting on Hawks to roll Twice out of the way when he blasted fire at them, and was later blindsided, shocked and betrayed when Hawks went for the kill).

He recruited Hawks for his usefulness, true, but he specifically hand-picked him because he thought he could control any damage Hawks might cause. That's a sign of care.

So, uhm. I took a bit of a tangent here, but all of this was to say: no, I don't think he relates to Spinner in particular or to any other Lov member, at least on a conscious level. Whether he does feel belonging, though, it's a different matter altogether. At the very least, even if this ends up being confuted later on, I think it's safe to say that he wants to see the League thrive (whether for personal gain or because he got attached to them despite himself, as a ragtag group of people broken by the same system that rejected him. I think the latter might be why for all their differences, for their lack of faith in Stain's vision, he still compromises with his own high standards long enough to lend them his strength in return for theirs. But admitting to needing help is weakness, so he pretends their relationship is purely mutual exploitation)

#Ali replies #Bnha #Idk if this makes senss #It does in my head but I don't have the best words today #My post

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myaimistrue · 3 years

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written for @spnpocweek day two! prompt was “blue”

this is also posted on my ao3

“Y’know, I hate the Winchesters.”

Claire snorts, and Kaia just nods sagely as she continues sorting through the M&Ms for the blue ones. “I get that.”

“You know how many times they’ve fucked up my life? God, I hate them.” It’s funny, though, because even as Kevin says it, he doesn’t really mean it. He’s not sure how he feels about Sam and Dean exactly, but knows it isn’t hate—Kevin doesn’t think he hates anybody, anymore. It’s too exhausting. “Assholes,” He mutters anyway.

“Cas possessed my dad,” Claire says casually, like it’s the weather, not some seriously fucked-up family trauma. “That got my mom killed a little way down the line, but Jimmy had been gone for years—since the first apocalypse, I think? I don’t know, whatever. But Cas is human now, so he just has his body.” She raises her eyebrows at Kevin. “Honestly, dude, I think it’s hard to beat that.”

“It’s not a competition,” Kaia says.

“You’re just saying that because you wouldn’t win,” Claire retorts.

Kaia laughs, and then she and Claire are having a moment, all sweet and giggling and in love. Kevin feels a conflicting combination of both desperate longing and sharp irritation. He settles on taking another swig of his beer.

“But, hey,” Claire says after some undetermined amount of time, shaking Kevin out of his reverie of angst. “Hey, at least things are better now. No Heaven, no Hell, way less monsters to kill. I mean, it actually gets a little boring sometimes. That’s pretty fucking cool. We can do what we want.”

Kevin looks at her, the drunken smile on her face, and wishes he could feel that. Whenever he thinks about what the future might hold for him, it’s like a blank wall—he can’t get past the present moment. It seems impossible to, when he could die at any time. He probably will die sometime soon; it’s been too long since something went terribly fucking wrong for him.

“I think I want to go to college,” Kaia says. She’s still picking out all the blue M&Ms with a kind of focus only afforded to those that are deeply intoxicated. “There’s so much to learn.”

Claire pulls a face. “Boring. I wanna travel, and not just the way we travel to hunt. I wanna see everything. I want to see the whole fucking world.”

Kevin opens his mouth to contribute, and then closes it. What does he want? He can’t even remember what the answer to that question used to be. Probably something about going to Yale with all his AP credits in tow and eventually becoming the first Asian-American President of the United States—actually, he thinks, that was probably it. Kevin Tran for President. The idea’s pretty laughable now.

They all talk for a little while longer. The night ends with Claire telling a story about a vamp hunt gone wrong that has all of them struggling to breathe through their laughter, and Jody poking her head out of her bedroom and whisper-shouting them all off to bed. Claire and Kaia stumble away, still giggling, and Kevin settles back onto the couch, his bed for the night.

It’s nice that they’re letting him stay for a few weeks, he thinks. Jody had welcomed him with a warm smile and curt explanation of the house rules. No weapons, no fighting, and no sneaking out. He’d wanted to make a comment about being a grown man, but didn’t; if she was going to let an aimless prophet fuck-up hang around for a few weeks, he might as well be nice about it.

Kevin’s phone buzzes. It’s Mom.

Hope you’re having a nice time. Be safe. I love you.

His chest twists, and he shoots back a quick I am, I love you too immediately. It’s been good to get a little space from her this past week, but he knows how hard it is for them both to be apart, after everything that’s happened. It’s past midnight, now—she must not have been able to sleep.

He thinks about what Claire said. It’s true; things are better now. The hunting community seems to be back to whatever their weird normal was pre-Sam and Dean fucking everything up—at least their talent for that isn’t specific to Kevin himself. Sam and his way-too-cool-for-him wife Eileen have the bunker up and running as a kind of hub for hunters, and as far as Kevin can tell, it’s going really well. He has a permanently extended invitation to stay there for as long as he wants, help Sam with some of the translations; Sam, obnoxiously kind and residually guilty as he is, even said he could bring Mom along.

Kevin’s not sure about it. The last time he lived at the bunker, it didn’t exactly go well for him. But things are different now, and at least if he started translating, he could put all this weird knowledge in his head to use. He’s going to have to figure something out eventually. He can’t couch surf through the entire hunter network forever.

He sits up, head buzzing from the alcohol—he’s not much of a drinker, much preferring a joint to a beer, but Claire had said Jody didn’t like it when they smoked in the house. There’s a pile of blue M&Ms sitting on the coffee table where Kaia left them. Kevin pops a few in his mouth idly.

He’s been dead a few times. He’s come back to life a few times, and now, supposedly, it’s going to stick. He’s young. He can do whatever he wants. So what does he want?

Again, there’s that blank wall. So Kevin flips the lamp off and lays back down in the darkness, the taste of shitty beer and chocolate on his tongue. Maybe he’ll take up Sam on his offer. Maybe he’ll leave this whole thing behind, take Mom and go somewhere sunny, Florida or something. Hey, maybe he will be the first Asian-American President. Crazier things have happened.

#spnpocweek #kevin #kevin tran #claire #claire novak #kaia #kaia nieves #linda tran #linda #spn fic #supernatural fanfiction #del's writing

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klave-fucktober · 3 years

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Klave Fucktober Fest - Info Post

Hello Party People, the Hargreeves’ birthday is nigh and what’s a better present for our lovely Number Four (and us) than getting him and his main squeeze thoroughly wrecked? Without further ado...

Welcome to Fucktober! A prompt fest dedicated to creating mature fanworks for The Umbrella Academy pairing of Klaus Hargreeves/Dave Katz.

Details under the cut…

Cool! So, who is it that’s hiding behind the curtain?

Your fest runners for this event are CriseCardiac (@thistlemoth) and Teddy (@yeah-klave), just a couple of friendly neighborhood smut enthusiasts dying for some content in these dark, dark interseasonal times. Any questions, you can find us on tumblr or, more often than not, hanging out in Elliott’s House.

Okay, how does this work?

You can submit a prompt here from now until September 17th. The submitted prompts will be posted on September 19th, on which day claiming will open and participants can begin working on their submission(s). Multiple claims are allowed on prompts, and you can claim as many as you want. Collabs are great! We don’t want to be restrictive – the idea of this fest is to encourage as much smutty Klave creation as possible: we want ALL THE SMUT.

Once you have completed your work, you can either: (1) add it to the AO3 Klave-Fucktober Collection - “Klave Fucktober 2021″; and/or (2) submit it to the Klave-Fucktober tumblr page. The AO3 Collection will go live on 30 October and any works submitted to the tumblr page will also be posted at intermittent times throughout the day on the 30th October, and, depending on the number of entries, the following days.

Alternatively, you can post your work to your own tumblr, however, if you’re doing this, we ask that you don’t post your work until 30 October, please. If you’re posting to your own tumblr, please remember to tag your work #fucktober. Also, if you tag either @klave-fucktober, @thistlemoth or @yeah-klave, one of us will reblog on the official fucktober tumblr page.

Please note, if you are creating nsfw art, you must adhere to the rules of the site you are posting your work to.

What can I prompt?

It’s a free-for-all baby! Want to see Klaus and Dave having sweet, sticky Saigon sex? Prompt it! Want to see them getting down and dirty in the jungle? Prompt it! Modern AU lazy Sunday morning lovemaking? Angsty, post-argument make-up fuck? Gender-swapped klave (i.e. our lovely Klesbians) princess/stable girl illicit love affair? Office co-workers enemies to lovers? Sex dungeon? Semi-public? Trans? Threesome? Moresome? Full on orgy? First time? Prompt it, prompt it, prompt it!!

So, in summary, as long as Klave is the main pairing and it involves some form of sex, you can prompt anything and everything. This could be as simple as a particular kink or you could submit a detailed scenario. Whatever you’ve been craving, this is your opportunity to get it out to potential nsfw Klave content creators.

Are there any exclusions?

No rape and no underage, please. And absolutely no kink-shaming.

Can I submit a prompt if I don’t plan to contribute?

Of course. As a prompt fest, there’s no commitment. Often the prompts are a gift in themselves. Your prompt may inspire something wonderful – so please, prompt away!

What can I create?

Anything you want, as long as your creation is in some way fucktastic! Write something, draw something, use those graphic-design-is-my-passion skills. Know some songs you think the boys would get down and dirty to? Make a playlist! All fannish talents are welcome and encouraged. We’re here for a fun, adult time together. Go wild.

As a note for fics: there are no word count restrictions. You can write a sexy bite-sized drabble or a slow burn epic where all that antici-- pation and build-up doesn’t come to a tingly, pulsating climax until chapter 10. Multichapter fics do not need to be completed within the fest window.

I’ve made a claim but I’m afraid I won’t finish my submission on time. What happens now?

No worries, it happens! Neither of us will run screaming after you in the night. Claiming is mostly to give us an idea of what to expect and allow your potential audience to get excited about what might be to come. Allowing multiple claims means you can be as ambitious as you want without preventing other submissions.

If you change your mind about a claim, decide to fill a different prompt instead, create something that hasn’t even been prompted, post only the first chapter, post later than the fest window – that’s all fine!

I’ve never created anything nsfw before – I’d like to participate but I’m nervous about the theme.

This is not an exclusive environment. We know there are many smut veterans out there who will be eager to participate in this event, but we also want to use this as an opportunity to encourage as many new participants to get involved as well! Whether you’re new to creating nsfw content for this pairing, or just new to creating nsfw content at all – we would LOVE for you to get involved!

There’s no getting around it, posting smut can be very daunting. Maybe you’ve always wanted to create something nsfw but have always felt too exposed or nervous to post it? Maybe you’ve created something in the past but have always thought it was not good enough or not sexy enough to share? To all you lovely people, we beckon you over, throw our arms wide and invite you to join the smut club.

Smut comes in all shapes and sizes and styles. Just like kinks. Just like people. Everyone has different tastes and preferences – there is no right or wrong way to create smut. What works for one person might not work for another, but that’s part of the fun of it!

So whatever your previous smut experience level, we would love for you to take part. And remember, if you’ve got any questions, concerns or you just need a little positive encouragement, you can always reach out to one of the event runners – we’re very friendly and we’re both smut-writers, so we’d be happy to chat with you. Feel free to drop us an ask or a DM.

Any warnings?

This is an open prompt fest, where just about anything goes, so please be aware of this when reading prompts and fills.

We ask our creators to tag all works accordingly, so nobody gets any nasty surprises, i.e. any potential triggers, unusual kinks or non-klave pairings (particularly any sibling ships). However, we caution everyone to read/view/participate at their own risk.

I am underage, can I participate?

Sorry, but no. This is a smut fest, 18+ only please.

The Timeline

Sept 4th - Prompting begins

Sept 17th (noon PST/ 7pm UTC) - Prompting ends

Sept 19th (midnight PST/ 7am UTC) - Claiming opens

Oct 30th (Devil’s Night) - The revelry, I mean posting, starts!

#klave #klaus hargreeves #dave katz #klaus/dave #robert sheehan #cody ray thompson #condensed info post

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hello-im-not-a-possum · 3 years

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YEEHAW IT’S MIDNIGHT WHICH MEANS IT’S AUGUST 1ST WHICH MEANS INK DEMONTH SO I CAN FINALLY POST THIS NOW:

1. Pride

Diversity win! There is not a single cishet in the hivemind of ink creatures (To their knowledge) that you slaughter on a daily basis to make yourself beautiful! AKA: Possum has a fuck ton of LBGT+ headcanons regarding the BATIM cast and is happy to use this DeMonth prompt to indulge them. (Set before the loop starts, but after Buddy Boris meets/befriends the lost ones.)

Malice flicked through the channels of her cameras, trying to find more prey in her territory, and stopped when she saw a gathering of the lost and the searching (and exactly one Boris, the most perfect one she had ever seen.) in the Heavenly toy’s lobby, their prophet was brazenly sitting on the side of the waterfall as if he did not fear the ink when he should have.

Her ears steamed with anger as she saw that group, it was far too large for her to deal with on her own and too far away from the Projectionist’s grounds for her to manage to lure him to them. But on the bright side, she could learn some important information from them, after all, with how casually the prophet was sitting and gesturing and how the other freaks in the crowd were responding, this was clearly not one of his normal sermons.

(“I still find it rather funny that almost none of us are straight and that the few straight ones among us are trans, it’s like all this time we thought we were sheep hiding away in wolves’ clothing among wolves, unaware that the “wolves” were simply other sheep in hiding as well!”)

[Funnily enough, I’d rather be a sheep than a wolf, I think it makes more sense for me to be an animal that’s helpful to others but also easily scared.] The Boris wrote on a typewriter. [Or at least, I wish I had some kind of input on what I am, but I doubt I’d make myself an animal…]

(“Speaking of which...”) The lost one next to the wolf whispered in his ear as she looked over his typing. (“How are you holding up, Buddy?”)

Instead of typing, the wolf drew himself shrugging and put a bunch of question marks around him, then stuck the drawn-on paper in his typewriter and added to it.

[It’s hard to think most of the time, Boris always seems stronger when I’m alone, but I know the Ink demon will find us if I stay with you, this hunger is driving me crazy, and I just wanna go home. But on the bright side, I don’t have to deal with periods, chest pain from binding, or people condescendingly calling me ‘Miss Lewek’ anymore.]

She turned on the sound in that room, watching them like one would watch a Tv drama, but what she heard caught her off guard.

“So as long as we’re being honest about ourselves with each other…” The lost one stood up and pointed accusingly at Sammy. “Were you and Joey and a thing all along before the machine came into the picture!?”

If she was drinking water, she would’ve spat it right back out. Sammy, with Joey?! In the latter’s dreams, maybe! Even a few of the other lost ones looked shocked at the question, the Boris even gasped loud enough for it to be audible.

“Technically yes, but not by choice, mind you.”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

What the fuck indeed random lost one. The angel wished that she didn’t hear that, but now that she couldn’t unsee it, at least it made a little bit of sense in hindsight. After all, in her eyes, they were awful enough to deserve each other.

“...Why?”

“It’s just, well... somebody had to keep his eyes from wandering to the lambs- err- younger, more naive, less experienced employees, not children (to my knowledge). And at the time, I really thought that he did at least care about me beyond our work relationships, at least a little bit… But from what I’ve seen, I believe the only things he had ever truly loved were himself, and the idealized versions he had made of other people. His ‘dream versions’ of them, if you will.”

“And this whole time, I thought he was running off with Susie with all those lunch dates! Or where the three of you all… yaknow, *together* together?”

“Not knowingly… However I wouldn’t put it past Joey to cheat on people. As for Susie... I did like her, maybe even love her in a way, but I doubt I could ever love her in the way she wanted me to love her, and-or love her carnally. I don’t even think I could fake it like I could for Joey, she was never signing my checks and wasn’t holding that over my head so I’d be too disgusted to even try.”

Malice was almost about to march down there herself and push him into the ink, but she knew this troupe all too well, and knew that sometimes this place worked on story logic, he’s now going to say something that alters the context of that statement enough to not justify her going over there and slam dunking him into the ink.

“Now that I think of it, I don’t think that I’ve ever loved… anyone in that sense. I can’t think of a single person or situation where the idea of doing that is anything other than gross at best. In fact, there was someone who was close to me a long time ago, someone who, while I have long forgotten now, would perhaps even be what one could consider a soulmate. Even then, the mere thought of doing that with them still makes me queasy…” The prophet sighed. “I suppose I am simply meant to remain alone in religious celibacy. A relationship of that kind would interfere too much with my worship anyway.”

"Ahh fahr foehck's sake... I can't believe dat it's dis foehckin stupid..." A more lucid, absolute giant of a searcher in the back of the crowd slapped his forehead.

“It?” Malice repeated curiously. “Huh… maybe it and I had more in common than we thought.”

“You're clearly a sex-repoehlsed asexual, you doehmbass! literally everyahne who's ever been in de dark poehddles at de same time as you figured dis ooeht befahre you ded!” He shouted through cupped hands. “celibate people are people who WANT sex, boeht dahn't poehrsue it fahr variooehs reasahns, dey ARE NAHT people who are desgoehsted wit sex to de point where dey legitimately throw oehp and feel 'ahrreble after doin de nahrmal vanella stoehff! Stahp foehckin foehckin people when you're clearly naht cahmfortable wit it, and you and future partner..s? 'll be 'appier wit yooehr rahmantic poehrsuits!”

The searcher, upon realizing that he had furiously sworn at the Prophet, their leader, the one who does not fear anything within the studio, not even the deepest depths of the dark puddles, and most terrifyingly of all; the former music director, he slinked into a puddle within the crowd in fear of being the target of reawakened ancient wrath. Everybody else looked back and forth to the prophet and back at the searcher who spoke out as they remained in stunned silence, even their eavesdropper was worried for his fate, even if in her case she feared how the show would end rather than his outcome. Surprisingly, and luckily for him, the Prophet broke the tense silence by laughing in that caught-off-guard tone of it.

“While you were rather… crude about it, what you’ve said does make a lot more sense then Joey being so bad at sex that he turned me away from men altogether, even if it is funny to assume that he was.”

“A-aye… and I can't believe dat you wrahte an entire foehckin sahng abooeht it! 'ow ded you naht get fired fahr dat?!”

“Good question, I wish I could remember the answer…”

[Maybe you had blackmail on Drew?] The Boris typed out and handed to Sammy.

“Yeah, maybe because you used to be so close to him, you saw skeletons that Joey would want to keep in the closet” His lost-one friend added.

“Like HIMSELF!” A voice from the back added, making the others in the room burst into laughter.

With the tension in the room gone, the group just went back to talking about either journeys they took to become comfortable with themselves, or the various past relationships that they had, or wished they had or in some peoples’ cases, all three.

Malice continued to watch them bitterly. It was as if they had either forgotten what the outside world was like to people like them or they simply didn’t care, and she wasn’t thinking about the ink that made up their bodies. Part of her envied how freely they had talked about themselves and each other, part of her felt like she had been smacked across the face, and a third part of her felt lonely. All of them seemed so happy telling their stories and building each other up, and here she was hiding away with her own story that she had wished to bury.

However, there was no iron clad law stating that she couldn’t tell them her own story. In fact, maybe if she came out of her own cage, made Sammy understand that big part of why voicing Alice was so important to her, made sure that it understood that as the very first explicitly female character she voiced, that Alice Angel was more than a beloved character to her, that she was a part of her, the biggest symbol of her own femininity, then maybe it would recognize the error of its ways. Maybe it would see how devastating it would be to be shunted aside without notice in favor of someone newer, prettier, ‘more feminine’...

She shut off the camera and thought it over, and she made up her mind. While she still didn’t want to share her story with everyone, Sammy needed to know it. Whether the Prophet liked it or not, she was going to pay it a visit.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #ink demonth #pride #fanfic #Malice Angel #dot batim #buddy boris #sammy lawrence #lost ones batim #searchers batim #shawn flynn

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witchbitchheadedtoaditch · 3 years

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Shadow Work Prompts

Objectively, I'm really bad at using shadow work prompts. I kind of hate them. That being said, I find I really get a lot of good introspection and such done when I respond to quotes or lyrics (likely because I'm a literature student), so I thought I'd share some of the ones I've got written down to work with!

From The Midnight Gospel

People really try to avoid the consideration that they're going to die and that people they love are going to die.

It opens your heart, it breaks your heart open. (Speaking about death)

Our hearts have been closed, because we've closed them. We've defended ourselves against pain. And this [death] opens them.

Opening your heart hurts.

If you inquire into the hurt, you know what you're experiencing is love.

[Death] is an incredible teacher.

The closer to physical death I get, the more real I get.

Love is supportive. It holds us. It has a quality of benevolence that we might have never noticed.

What is it that has the quality of benevolence? .... reality.

This experience of love energy is so powerful, that to combat against it, we build an entire life, an entire ego, to try not to feel it.

Ego death is a transfiguration.

Love isn't going anywhere.

The time of death is uncertain, but death is certain.

We suffer more if we resist the flow of the river.

There's no way to stop a heartbreak. How do you do that? You cry.

No matter where you go, things are always gonna be the same if you don't change.

Through love, all pain will turn to medicine.

From Steven Universe

Love takes time and love takes work.

If there's a chance I could make it better... shouldn't I try?

Are you insecure about your relationships and how you're perceived by other people?

Is it weird I'm getting numb to this?

If you're the one protecting me... then who's the one protecting you?

There are millions of possibilities for the future! But it's up to you to choose which becomes reality.

You are an experience. Make sure you're a good experience.

I never asked for it to be this way. I never asked to be made.

I am made of love, and it's stronger than you.

I struggle to stay strong because I know the impact I have on everyone.

Humans lead short, boring, insignificant lives, so we make up stories to feel like we're a part of something bigger.

Comedy is derived from fear.

You are going to be something extraordinary; you're going to be a human being.

Sylvia Plath Quotes

God, how I ricochet between certainties and doubts.

If you expect nothing from somebody you are never disappointed

I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.

Kiss me, and you will see how important I am.

Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing.

The silence depressed me. It wasn't the silence of silence. It was my own silence.

I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery--air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, "This is what it is to be happy."

Let me live, love, and say it well in good sentences.

Yes, I was infatuated with you: I am still. No one has ever heightened such a keen capacity of physical sensation in me. I cut you out because I couldn't stand being a passing fancy. Before I give my body, I must give my thoughts, my mind, my dreams. And you weren't having any of those.

Is there no way out of the mind?

I desire the things that will destroy me in the end.

I like people too much or not at all. I've got to go down deep, to fall into people, to really know them.

We should meet in another life, we should meet in air, me and you.

I talk to God but the sky is empty.

I must get my soul back from you; I am killing my flesh without it.

I felt very still and empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo

How we need another soul to cling to.

I have never found anybody who could stand to accept the daily demonstrative love I feel in me, and give back as good as I give.

I didn't want any flowers, I only wanted to lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty. How free it is, you have no idea how free.

What horrifies me most is the idea of being useless: well-educated, brilliantly promising, and fading out into an indifferent middle age.

Eternity bores me, I never wanted it.

I am terrified by this dark thing that sleeps in me

How frail the human heart must be--a mirrored pool of thoughts

People or stars regard me sadly, I disappoint them.

Margaret Atwood Quotes

War is what happens when language fails.

Ignoring isn't the same as ignorance, you have to work at it.

Whatever is happening to me is my own fault. I have done something wrong, something so huge I can't even see it, something that's drowning me. I am inadequate and stupid, without worth.

Better never means better for everyone... it always means worse, for some.

You are your own voyeur

I read for pleasure and that is the moment I learn the most.

A rat in a maze is free to go anywhere, as long as it stays inside the maze.

You can only be jealous of someone who has something you think you ought to have yourself.

A truth should exist, it should not be used like this. If I love you, is that a fact or a weapon?

If we were all on trial for our thoughts, we would all be hanged.

Touch comes before sight, before speech. It is the first language and the last, and it always tells the truth.

The best way of keeping a secret is to pretend there isn't one.

I am not your justification for existence.

Hatred would have been easier. With hatred, I would have known what to do. Hatred is clear, metallic, one-handed, unwavering; unlike love.

But some people can't tell where it hurts. They can't calm down. They can't ever stop howling.

What am I living for and what I am dying for are the same question.

Sylvester McNutt III Quotes

The pain that came to you is not always a choice, but keeping it on you is. Stop the obsessive thinking related to it, and allow the pain to fade away.

The practice of staying present will heal you. Obsessing about how the future will turn out creates anxiety. Replaying broken scenarios from the past causes anger or sadness. Stay here, in the moment.

Remove yourself from people who treat you like your time doesn't matter, like your feelings are worthless, or like your soul is replaceable.

Everyone doesn't need access to you. Some people are draining and they don't even know it. You're allowed to say no, you're allowed to not answer calls, you're allowed to break plans, and if you need to save yourself do it.

Knowing me, I'll probably post more of this kind of stuff at some point :)

#shadow work #shadow work prompts #prompts #quotes

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monsoonblooms12 · 3 years

Text

In Sunshine & In Shadow: Chapter 1-Love & Laughs

Summary of the Series: Let's set out on the walk of life. Pack up for embarking on an adventure of a lifetime with our favourite residents. A series of love, friendship and travel. It is all about fuelling your wanderlust❤️

In this chapter: Pooja and Ethan spend some cute moments and the talk of the trip begins.

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for a long time as I figured out the storylines I wanted to do for the various pairings. Now that I have planned everything, I can finally start posting. This chapter is Poo & E. We meet the others in the next chapter💛

If you enjoyed the story, please like it, leave a comment or reblog. Your feedback keeps me going💕

Thank you so much @jamespotterthefirst for prereading. Love you💛💛

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey X f!MC (Dr. Pooja Sharma)

Word Count: around 2.2K

Rating: General

Prompt :- @choicesaprilchallenge2021 Day 6: Sonder

Derry Roasters was abuzz with enthusiasm, but it didn't seem to act on her. To her, it felt like someone had turned the hourglass of her life, let the sand flow and forgot to turn it back. Her time had stopped there on its tracks.

Around her, people rushed through their day, not waiting for anyone. She felt like the still picture amidst a fast-motion video. Sonder was the word Pooja would use to describe the way she felt. Sonder, for her, is Surprise and Wonder intertwined in a single word. Wonder, at how life changes every minute of every moment. And Surprise at how, even after so many afflictions, tribulations, one will find the happiness that destiny had in store for them.

The thoughts in her mind swirled and asked for all her cognizance. Transfixing her mind in them, she let her emotions engulf her with leaden steps.

Ting Ding Ding

Pooja's eyes tardily broke contact with the empty bone china coffee mug as she picked up her phone.

Brookline Rejuvenate sent you an email.

But for her, it manifested being a testament that all of it was happening.

That she was not tumbling around in an atrocious daydream, which would vanish the instant, she fluttered her orbs agape.

Yes.

Edenbrook, the nonpareil hospital in the entire States, was closing down.

Every day of operating there, felt like she was relishing in the will-o'-the-wisp of her aspirations.

The thoughts of Edenbrook made her mind travel to the day when it all began. The elegant calligraphy on the envelope with the Cerulean and Lime Green Logo that bore her name. The message that turned her life upside down forever.

Then the Diagnostics Team. The extreme cases they had solved. They saw its end too. They were working their free hours at the free clinic or in the ER. Everything, every day, seemed to rush around her.

The days seemed to fly past, and so did the time remaining for Edenbrook.

Everyone had started looking up places to carry on with their medical careers & residencies. But no one wanted to leave Edenbrook before it closed down. They wanted to cherish every day before the ticking clock struck midnight and supply the last of their best healthcare to as many people as possible.

The thought of leaving everything behind was painful for Pooja. You are taking away the most valuable of things, she convinced herself. You are taking away memories. Beautiful memories. Painful memories.

But there was another nagging thought that piqued her time and again.

The Gala was everything she ever imagined. But the most memorable of the moments was The Kiss. He had kissed her.

In front of everyone.

Her mind went to the embedding touches Ethan left on her that night.

Now, as Edenbrook's time came to an end, and she planned about the rest of her residency, she thought of her and Ethan's relationship.

Were they meant to be? Were all those feather-light touches, the kisses in the rain, the tears they shed together, going to end in vain? Were their lives only connected till here?

Was it the beginning of the end?

"You're here."

You will live a hundred years, Ethan Ramsey.

Tearing away from the colossal reticulation of her thoughts, she turned towards him. His summery blues, meeting her ambers.

"Hey You"

Ethan came over and sat in front of her.

"You didn't tell me you were coming here. I had to ask Alex and Sienna to know about your whereabouts."

Pooja let out a tiny laugh. "Whereabouts? You are making me feel like a criminal."

Ethan chuckled. "If so, then you would be the most beautiful criminal I have ever seen."

This made Pooja giggle harder. "You are talking as if you have met hundreds of criminals."

"I will never win any debate with you. So let's just...let it be?"

"Accepting Defeat, Dr. Ramsey?"

"If it makes you smile that, then I will always accept defeat for you."

A blush crept up her neck as she said, "Okay, too much. Now stop"

Ethan let out a last chuckle as his order arrived. A Vienna, a coffee and black forest cake for him and a butterscotch one for her.

Taking her piece in hand, Pooja said, "All I need is you."

"Hey, what about me?"

"Ah, you know you can never win the battle against this" She held up the cake.

"You're ridiculous."

A subtle tee-hee, and they were surrounded with a perfect silence as they got lost in each other's world.

A world where all the hustle-bustle inundating them evaporated. There were no questions asked, no side looks given, and no stops in the world of their love. In this world, their coffee, cake and their memories were their sole companions.

There were no catechisms, no side looks given, and no obstructions in the world of their love.

"So…umm..." Ethan began.

"Yeah?"

Oh, C'mon Ramsey, it is obvious that you have fallen real deep for her! Alex's usual tease came ringing in his ears.

Oh Lexandra, why don't you leave me alone?

But she is right.

Ugh! Since when did The Ethan Ramsey, the man who could make an intern tremble with fear, start to fumble?

He took a deep breath, centred himself and began again.

"Can we go on a tour? With all of your friends or the Invincibles as you all ridiculously like to call yourselves.

"Wait. You Remember That?"

"How can I forget when you are singing the name in front of me every 10 minutes or so?"

"Or maybe you need a membership to the Invincibles? Which, I should make clear, you are not getting."

"You are ridiculous-"

"-ly smart. Ya, I know, Thank you very much. And speaking of the trip, I would go on a trip at any time, anywhere, you don't need to ask. Just tell. I will be ready in 10 minutes."

"You know I am not talking about a trip from here to Brookline. We could go on, you know, an international tour. To a place of your choices."

Pooja's face became Stoic, expressionless. A sudden flurry of anxiousness spread through Ethan's Heart.

Then he remembered. A tip Alex had given him "free of cost" as she would like to say, a few days back.

"Anytime you are asking Poo to go on a trip to one of her favourite places, just count till five after placing your point."

"Five? Why?"

"Just do as I say, and you will see for yourself" Alex winked and left.

So he did.

One, He saw Pooja's eyes widen a bit.

Two, Her Amber eyes were full of joy and excitement.

Three, A light blush and the faint dimple on her left cheek appeared, adding a shimmer to her beauty.

Four, Her lips crept up in a faint smile.

Five, Her face and expression fully express-

"YAY! YAY! YAY!" Her cheer came along which earned her side-glances from the other customers. But who cares when it's an international trip you are talking about?

Of course, Ethan thought, Lexandra was right.

"That is a Thantastic idea!!!"

"I am sorry, but Thantastic?" Ethan couldn't help but chuckle. She was a source of his never-ending amusement.

"Gawd Thanie! Thantastic is just an Ethan version of Fantastic. Duh!"

She bent over the table.

Deceiving him to think that she was going to kiss him. In front of the entire coffee shop.

Only for her to smack his forehead lightly and comedically.

Since when did you become a sappy idiot like that? Ethan mentally ridiculed himself.

"Stop making a comedy show out of me in front of the entire coffee shop."

"Stop acting comedically, and I will stop too" Pooja shrugged and flashed that one dimpled smile that he had come to be a fan of

The things the girl does to me! And I thought love didn't exist. Even Ethan's mind was satirizing him.

The snap of two fingers brought him back from Ethan-land to the Derry Roasters, Boston, Massachusetts.

"I thought Ethan-land doesn't exist. Glad to be proven wrong." Pooja's mocking giggle was a melody he wanted to record on a vinyl and play on a record player time and again.

He thought of presenting a counter-argument.

You still won't win.

So instead of wasting his energy in vain, he decided to save it for later.

"Hmm. Coffee done. Now let's head home. We will ask them to pack the cakes."

"Buy a few more."

"Hmm?"

"You know trip planning? And I am pretty sure I said that you can bring along your fri-"

"I think you mean The Invincibles?" Pooja cut him off, cocking her right eyebrow.

"Whatever." Rolling his eyes, Ethan didn't let his amusement seep through his features.

They both got up. Ethan bought a bunch of cakes while Pooja giggled, nearly tripped and sprained her left ankle lightly, and finally succeeded in texting her mates to join them for trip-ing plan.

When Ethan came out of the coffee shop, hands full, he saw her slight limping as she walked towards their car.

Shaking his head, and having a mental peal of laughter because of her clumsiness, he went to the car. Opening the rear door, he kept all the goodies on the back seat.

Then he turned towards Pooja. She still had all of her attention transfixed in reading something fascinating on her phone. She didn't even notice him.

In a quick motion, he went up to her, and before she could process the whole thing, picked her up bridal style and seated her in the front passenger seat.

The next minute, he was behind the wheel and was driving them home. More specifically, The condo of the Invincibles.

Mental eye-roll.

"Ahem, Ahem"

Of Course. She was yet to speak something.

"So what are you now, Super Ramsey? Picking me up in the middle of the pathway?"

"You were limping, Poo."

"You know I can manage myself just fine."

He stopped the car. The condo was still a block away.

"Why did you stop? This is not where we live. You know that."

Ethan turned towards her and caressed her cheek softly.

She melted into his touch. Her eyes closed momentarily, her beautiful eyes and alluring shadowy eyelashes reflecting the serenity her heartfelt.

"Poo. I know you are a strong, independent woman. You like to be self-dependent."

He paused a short breath. Taking her hand in his and kissing the top of it, he continued,

"But I cannot see you hurt, be it a slight limp or a broken arm. I will always take care of you."

"I know you will. You always do. But a limp, a broken arm is faint compared to what I have been through. You don't need to worry about me all the time."

"I will always worry about you."

"Eth-"

He placed a finger on her lips. "No more ifs, or buts. It is something I wanna do. Not something I have to do."

And with a look of assurance and care, Ethan started to drive again. His features were calm, his blue eyes had hues of red and golden of the traffic in front of them.

The unsaid string of words that dangled between the two of them was what had tied them together so strongly. Which made him believe she was meant to be his and her to believe that he was meant to be hers.

Pooja waited for that day, impatiently, when he would be hers and she, his. Angst in fiction was her love, but angst in her real life? Not really. At least, not with Ethan Ramsey.

Stop being melodramatic.

She snapped at herself.

It took them an additional five minutes to reach the condo. Once there, Ethan was the first one to get out of the car. Pooja followed. She stood next to Ethan, who was now taking out the pastry boxes.

His senses called out to him, informed him of her presence. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the exact spot where she stood.

Then, as if it was a second nature to him, he swept her towards him by the waist and kissed her in four steps.

First, He kissed her dimpled cheek, earning a gasp from her.

Then, he kissed her forehead and left silent praises for her heart to hear.

Third, His suck on her neck felt like the touch of a feather to her.

And Lastly, His soft pink lips meet her rosy moist ones, full of passion and a love so pure that threatened to overpower their senses.

Slowly, he turned her around in the rhythm of a dance, and hugging her from the back, he sensually pulled at the tip of her ear as his soft words warmed her heart.

"Shall we?"

Not what she wanted to hear, but the feels in her heart didn't let her feel disappointed.

"Of Course." A reply she made with an unvoiced wish that the next time he kisses her like he did today, he says those words which will make her, his forever.

PS: Here's to hoping that this was not an utter mess and you enjoyed it. Thank you for reading and have a good day ahead🧡

Tags (Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed!) :@bbrandy2002 @whimsicallywayward15 @ohramsey @nervoussaladsludgeopera @trrfanaddict @hopelessromanticmonie @ilikemenbutonlyethanramsey @lovablegranny @bellcat2010 @gkittylove99 @kingliam2019 @starrystarrytrouble @3riche @chetachisblog @zoehanji @withbeautyandrage @drariellevalentine @mvalentine @aestheticartsx @angela8754 @schnitzelbutterfingers @ao719 @choicesstan1 @neotericthemis @arnikki-2406 @anotherbeingsworld @maurine07 @sophxwithers @twinkleallnight

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pynkhues · 3 years

Note

Would love number 20 “in a moment of worry” for Brio touch prompts... thank you!

Ah! Such a fun one, anon (and sorry for the delay).

This is a post-s3 baby!

“Can you just - - hold still.”

“I am,” Beth bites, her gaze flicking sideways to where Annie’s fumbling with the alcohol swabs, the first aid kit cracked open between them leaving the faint, alkaline smell of chemicals to soak the air. Not that Beth can smell it that well over the metallic tang of blood, but she can see it on the twist of Ruby’s face where she sits on her scooter. Recognises it from long evenings at the hospital with Sara, when the smell of the space – somehow both pungent and sterile – sucked all the air out of the room.

“You’re holding about as still as Jane when she has to pee,” Annie replies, finally tearing open the plastic wrapping with her teeth and gagging when the taste of the swab hits her tongue, and good, Beth thinks, sniffing. It’s not like it’s her fault that they’re in this situation.

“I can’t believe you went there alone.”

And okay, Beth thinks, a seed of guilt planting as her gaze snaps back to Ruby. Maybe it’s not not her fault.

With Ruby on her scooter, Beth and Annie have most of the (still) empty floor of Beth’s living room to themselves. The scattered pieces of furniture she’s been able to claim the place with limited to a tiny, frayed-from-cat-claws sofa that Annie had gotten in exchange for covering a co-worker’s shift, and Judith’s antique ottoman – the latter of which is shoved into the corner of the living room, home now to a bag of cash with a bullet hole in it and Danny’s solar system diorama for science class.

The pinch of the hour makes itself known in the lag of Beth’s head, and god, it’s gotta be past midnight at this point. The thought leaves the guilt sprouting as she takes in Ruby’s tired, worried face, and Annie’s pressed focus as she unfolds the swab, and there’s an apology somewhere on Beth’s tongue, because it might not be entirely her fault, but she’ll be the first to admit that tonight didn’t exactly go as planned.

As if on cue, Beth hears a car pull up outside. Hears the cut of an engine and then a beat, two, and a door open and close. The soft pad of feet up her driveway and then the quiet, gruff murmurs of Mick’s voice as he meets the newcomer, and - - newcomer? God, who’s she kidding, she knows exactly - -

Her cheek stings, and Beth yelps, flinching back before she can help it only to be met by Annie’s apologetic look as she presses the alcohol swab harder into the cut on Beth’s face.

“I told you to hold still,” Annie reminds her, and Beth sighs, letting Annie dab a little at her before she drops the now-bloody swab into the pile of torn plastic between them.

“You deserve that,” Ruby chimes in, and Beth just rolls her eyes, her hand travelling up to prod a little at the cut before Annie slaps it away. “Don’t. Your hands are like - - germ factories. I think this might need stitches.”

“You’re lucky gangfriend’s gang friend showed up,” Ruby adds sharply, and that’s a little harsh, Beth thinks, gaze travelling back up to her in time to catch the other woman’s look, but Ruby’s not looking at her, or - - she is, but more specifically, she’s looking at the gash on Beth’s cheek, and okay, it’s not that bad.

The bruises at her shoulder are worse.

She’d seen them in the side mirror of Mick’s car as he’d pulled her out of the warehouse, shoving her unceremoniously into the passenger seat as he’d whipped them out of there, and Ruby was right, she was lucky, but at the same time, it was supposed to be simple.

It was supposed to be a way for them to get some control of their operation again. They weren’t cutting Rio out by going around him this time, they were just - - getting to know their pool of clients. Exploring some potentially lucrative side hustles. If Rio hadn’t wanted them to do that, he would’ve done a better job at hiding that phone number on the paperwork he’d brought into Boland Bubbles, and he definitely would’ve like - - done something to stop her from setting up a meeting if he was already working with the guy himself.

Right?

Or maybe he’d just wanted to teach her a lesson, Beth thinks bitterly, pushing her leg out from underneath her as it starts to cramp. After all, she had been asking him a lot about the Boland Bubbles clients, and well - -

Mick really had shown up weirdly fast.

Still.

“I had it under control,” Beth insists, her frown deepening when Ruby scoffs and Annie gives her a stupid look, and she doesn’t think the guy was going to kill her anyway. He only hit her when she told him he must be as stupid as he looked if he didn’t know a good deal when he saw one.

With a whine, the front door opens, and she knew it would be him, she reminds herself, she did, but still.

It’s something else, that’s all. To see Rio step through her front door, an eyebrow arched and his lips pressed into a thin line as he stops in the open arch entrance of her almost-empty living room and takes them in, and god.

She sits up a little taller, ignoring the complaint at the small of her back, because she’s sitting on the floor and this is not the way she wanted him to see her tonight, or ever, but then again, she reminds herself wryly, they’ve seen each other worse.

Still, she can hear Ruby inhale a sharp breath at the sight of him, Annie shuffle nervously, hear the neighbour’s son playing video games and a baby crying. Can feel the room shrink like it always does when Rio’s in it, and Beth does what she always does too.

She watches Rio.

Watches as he closes the distance between them, and Annie’s barely got the chance to grab the first aid kit and scramble sideways as he does it, his sneakers scuffed in a way that reminds Beth of afternoons at the park, but nothing good waits for her at the end of that thought, and so she looks up at his jean-clad knees, his shiny, uncracked leather belt, his t-shirt, his half-open peacoat, and then - -

His eyes are always so dark.

Beth swallows thickly.

Vaguely, she’s aware that Mick followed him in (a surprise given he’d spent the last half hour after bringing her home on her front steps), and Annie’s nervous energy and Ruby’s sunken shoulders, but any thoughts of it are dim, blurred, a smudge of sight, sound, feel in the background, because Beth’s looking at Rio, and Rio’s looking at her.

He clasps his hands in front of himself.

Rolls his shoulders back.

He looks down at her, statuesque, a million miles above her.

“You wanna tell me what happened?”

And, well - -

It lights her up like a dropped match.

“Your associate is what happened,” she tells him, and the heat finds her tone too quickly, because if this was a test, if he knew - - her chest heaves: “He - - pistol whipped me.”

From the corner of her eye, she can see Annie and Ruby stare at her, their own eyes wide and unblinking, and she can hear Mick snort, amused, which just - - god, it’s enough to leave a flush burning at her cheeks, but Rio seems unbothered. Unaffected. Just keeps looking at her like that.

Like - -

Before she has time to think, he steps forwards again, drops to a crouch in front of her and Beth jerks (and god, that makes her face sting, her shoulder burn), as Annie scrambles further backwards towards Ruby, and she can see the amusement on Rio’s face, no matter how hard he tries to hide it, and she’s still squaring her jaw when Rio hooks a knuckle underneath it.

Beth’s exhale is trapped in her throat.

It’s worse than the looking – when he touches her. When he looks at her, everything else fades, but when he touches her, there is nothing else, and Beth hates it, hates the feel of the cracked skin of his knuckle behind her chin, hates the memory of it scraping the backs of her teeth once, a long time ago, in her now-empty bedroom, hates that she looks at him and his dark, heavy eyes and knows the memory’s close to the surface for him too.

“See,” he starts, his voice low and slow as he tilts her head slightly to the side (she hates that she lets him), getting a better look at her cut. “Thing I can’t get my head around is why you were even meetin’ my associate in the first place.”

He doesn’t emphasise the my, he doesn’t, but Beth hears it anyway, and it’s enough to make her blink, swallow, to hate the latter too for the way it pushes the soft underbelly of her jaw into his finger, and it’s like he knows that too, because suddenly Rio drops his hand down to his knee, and Beth looks at him, and - - huh.

Maybe he didn’t know, she thinks, taking in his closed face.

Maybe he just hated touching her too.

“He asked for a meeting,” she tells him, and without his skin on her’s, she hears it when Ruby makes a low, strangled noise (but okay, it’s not a lie – he did ask for a meeting after Beth had implied she’d accept one on the phone).

“He asked for a meeting,” Rio echoes dryly, and Beth stares at him, and he knows. She knows he knows. But still she can’t quite swallow the lie.

“The pitch could’ve gone a little better.”

The grin that twitches at the corners of Rio’s lips is so fast she almost misses it – might have, if they weren’t sitting so close – and she finds something in her lurching with the knowledge, trying to chase the look even as his features resettle.

“Yeah, he ain’t really used to people like you showin’ up at these sorts of meetin’s.”

“I thought self-starters defined this industry.”

At the words, Rio snorts, shaking his head at her, and it’s sudden – the shift in the look of him – any amusement leaching out of his expression and leaving him quieter somehow. His big eyes half-lidded, the points and angles to him softened, his lips just slightly open to exhale a breath and is it that, she wonders? The warmth she feels suddenly at her cheeks?

Beth wets her own lips, means to speak, to say something, only then his knuckle is beneath her chin again, tilting her head softly to the right. Holds her in place for a moment, and she lets her gaze fix on the far wall of her living room, tries to slow her breathing as she feels him look at the half-cleaned up cut, the aching bruises flowering like spring buds beneath her skin. Feels him - -

Just feels him.

After a moment, he drops his hand, grazing it ever so slightly against her chest as he pulls it away and leans back on his haunches, and Beth should look at him, should twist her head back to him, but she doesn’t – not right away. Drops her gaze instead to the floor, to the carpet, a little stained from where she spilt bourbon once. From where Emma’s tie-dye ballet slippers marked it too.

“You gonna learn anything from this?”

Beth blinks, glances back at him, and his face isn’t open, but it isn’t so closed either – an unfamiliar, familiar expression there instead. Something she doesn’t get. And just - - god. She sniffs, shifts her weight on the bristly carpet.

“Learn anything from what?”

And she sees it then, the inhale, the way he pushes his tongue into his lower lip, before dropping his head and huffing out a laugh. He slaps his hands down on his knees and gets up out of his crouch, glancing over at Annie and Ruby, still staring tentatively at them from a few feet away, and then over to Mick.

“Take their cut.”

“What?” Annie squawks as Beth’s chest lurches, her sister finding her voice and standing up a little taller, hands still clutching the first aid kit to her chest. “Why?”

“You try to cut deals behind my back, I cut your pay, that’s how this works,” Rio supplies easily, shrugging a little, and Beth rolls her eyes when he turns back to look down at her and adds: “Ain’t that right, darlin’?”

She leaves it just a moment, before she smiles, and even though it makes her face sting, she makes it look an easy, too-sweet thing.

“Right, boss.”

It’s enough to make Rio hum, and she knows he likes it – can read that much at least – and he sways a little closer again as Mick steps around them, a strange, stifled sound in the back of his throat when he grabs the bag of cash off the ottoman and starts towards the hallway, and she swears he swaps a look with Ruby, but - -

Oh, Beth thinks, a shiver erupting through her when she feels Rio’s fingers brush her temple, feels them push her hair back off her face, and she knows her eyes are wide when she looks at him, can feel her breath caught, and when he says:

“Maybe work on that pitch of yours, yeah?”

She thinks I will, and when he slips out afterwards, and Annie and Ruby erupt into chatter, she thinks - -

She thinks - -

Next time.

Touch prompts.

#this was really interesting to write #i think i've been writing so much that's a part of series like c&c or au's like the pirate au lately i haven't really written much canon on #and this isn't really canon of course #haha #but potential canon?#idk!#it was p fun to write #especially coming off the back of rewatch #writing them a bit more acidic again is fun #anyway #beth x rio #my fic #nbc good girls #beth boland #rio #welcome to my ama #Anonymous

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