#and the processes in which I learned to be alright with them again are mildly varied | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jonathankai · 7 months

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I was going for a text post, but ended up with a drabble about sharing bed on cold nights, getting used to non-sexual intimacy and Xue Yang loosing at his own games and being surprisingly content with it. Hope you enjoy!

During their first winter on one particularly cold night Xiao Xingchen offers his outer robe to A-Qing to use as a blanket. When she asks what about him, Xue Yang interferes, saying that they shall sleep together to keep each other warm. He just wants to tease, but Xiao Xingchen suddenly agrees. More than that, he seems to be... enthusiastic about it?

Later that evening, Xiao Xingchen reveals that since nights can be pretty harsh where he came from, it was common for children to share bed and sleep together. Xue Yang plays it cool despite being mildly irritated that instead of embarrassed (as was originally planned), Xiao Xingchen looks happy. However, after some time, this happiness dulls into nostalgia, sadness even, and Xiao XIngchen shyly asks Xue Yang if he can hug him.As they fall asleep, Xiao Xingchen shares stories from their sleepovers back at home in a hushed tone. And Xue Yang...

Xue Yang is not sure why he agrees to all of this – to this hug, to these stories. The whole thing clearly doesn’t go in his favor. Unlike certain someone, he’s never slept next to another person and he lets Xiao Xingchen share his stupid stories, so he doesn’t have to do the talking and can focus on his feelings instead. It does feel very nice and warm. He was worried that he will be repulsed by foreign presence, but Xiao Xingchen is not the problem. The problem is: since it’s an unfamiliar situation and since people only got this close to him when they tried to kill him, part of his brain is writhing, looking for a catch, waiting for an attack. Reasonably, Xue Yang understands that since it’s daozhang Xiao Xingchen, the worst thing that could happen is that he would drool in his sleep, but that doesn’t stop the alarm ringing in his head. Xue Yang falls asleep to warmth, to gentle hands around him, to soft whisper, but also to uneasy feeling in his gut.

That’s why, when he wakes up, the first thing his brain processes is that there’s someone close enough to kill him. Xue Yang’s hand flies to Jiangzai, but it’s not on its’ place next to him, so instead Xue Yang kicks as hard as he can and rolls back.

Xiao Xingchen wakes up to being kicked in the stomach, which sends him in a coughing fit. A-Qing wakes up then and immediately starts shouting at Xue Yang. Out of three, it’s daozhang who first accesses the situation. Everybody has a story, for many people their stories are tragic, and Xiao Xingchen has already figured that his new friend is one of them. So he assures A-Qing that everything is alright, and then tries to calm down the man.

Xue Yang has hard time remembering where he is, why fucking Xiao Xingchen is there, and why he tells him that no one will hurt him. It’s hard to get a hold of himself and remember the persona he’s supposed to play, but eventually he manages.

The winter is being pretty harsh that year, and soon enough Xiao Xingchen offers his outer robe to A-Qing again. He asks Xue Yang if maybe they could sleep together. and Xue Yang agrees on a whim. The thing is, that time he woke up disorientated and scared, and it took a while before he could bear his surroundings. And if he was to live with Xiao Xingchen, it just wouldn’t do. He has to train himself better.

It’s Xiao Xingchen’s idea that they should sleep next to each other, but not too close, so dear friend won’t get... triggered in the morning. So they do, and this time they talk about their day, what else can be done to make coffin house hold against the weather, whether they have enough logs stacked for winter or not and stuff like this. Xue Yang falls asleep mid-sentence, his last coherent thought being that it was a stupid idea, because it doesn’t get much warmer this way.

Xue Yang has always been adaptive and pretty soon he learns to wake up without as much as a shiver. Besides, they’ve been slowly scooting closer to each other in their sleep anyway, seeking the source of warmth. He rarely gets to wake up before Xiao Xingchen (seems that he’s pretty adaptive too and one kick in the stomach was enough for him), but when he does, he likes to throw his arm and leg around daozhang and pretend he’s sleeping, so when the other man wakes up, he always tries to disentangle himself as discreetly as possible. Xue Yang found out he can make it harder if he tightens his hold and makes a protesting sound “in his sleep”. The first time he does it, he kind of hopes that Xiao Xingchen would admit defeat and stay close for as long as he would entertain it. But even if Xiao Xingchen halts and doubles his efforts at being accurate, he always gets up and leaves Xue Yang.

One morning Xue Yang wakes up with Xiao Xingchen’s arms around him. He hasn’t hugged him since that first time, but they’ve been sleeping close for a while now, so Xue Yang doesn’t freak out. In fact, it feels nice, adds to the warmth, so he just spends some time in thoughtless bliss. But then he wants to get up. He tries to be sneaky about it, but the arm around him tightens. Xue Yang stills, waits a little bit and tries again, but the embrace tightens further. Each try only makes Xiao Xingchen’s grip grow stronger. Who knows how long it continues, until Xue Yang hears the voice of a clearly very awake person right next to his year:

“I bet you’re very proud of yourself”.

Xue Yang smirks.

“Why shouldn’t I be?”

“I knew you were awake each time. I just thought I’ll indulge you for a bit”.

“And what’s happening now? Payback time?”

“Well, I thought maybe this time you’ll indulge me”, Xiao Xingchen says, his voice soft with amusement, fingers lightly tapping some rhythm on the other man’s back.

Xue Yang closes his eyes. He lost. He got caught. By all accounts, he should be mad, but somehow, he isn’t. Somehow, he feels good.

Xiao Xingchen must have interpreted his silence in his own manner, because his hold becomes slack and he moves away so Xue Yang could see his face.

“I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t bother you. I should have thought about it sooner”.

“No, it’s okay. I got used to you by now, so you can hug me whenever you want. I won’t kick you again... I think”.

Xiao Xingchen’s eyebrows go up.

“You think?”

Xue Yang grins.

“Yeah. Scared?”

He finds it incredibly funny when the other man actually thinks about it until he smiles resolutely.

“Worth the risk”, he says.

As the worst of the winter cold passes, Xiao Xingchen ends up offering his outer robe to A-Qing three nights in a row, and she declines his generous offer each time. On the third night Xiao Xingchen looks so defeated that Xue Yang can’t hold it anymore: he breaks into laughter and says that if Xiao Xingchen wanted to sleep together, he should have just said so. This makes A-Qing’s hackles rise. She makes a snarky remark how there is literally no reason for them to be sleeping together since it’s not so cold anymore. Somehow, this makes daozhang look even more sorrowful, and Xue Yang decides that just this once, he will save him.

“But sharing bed reminds him of home! He does so much for an ungrateful brat like you, and now he can’t have even one good thing!”

“My friend, A-Qing is only pointing the obvious: we started this, so we could all stay warm”.

“Yes, but we don’t have to stick to this reason. Let’s create another one and move on”.

This makes Xiao Xingchen freeze for a moment just like he used to when Xue Yang played his tricks in the morning.

“Alright”, he says eventually, and all the sorrow he had before leaves him at once.

Xue Yang looks at him a little dumbfounded, suddenly realizing that their routine just went through permanent changes.

They are all quiet for a while, before A-Qing asks in a far more pleasing tone:

“Daozhang, if you are sleeping with him, can I have your outer robe?”

Winter slowly gives way to the spring.

#mo dao zu shi #mdzs #xue yang #xiao xingchen #xuexiao #a qing #yi city #mdzsips

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aalbedo · 3 years

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tartaglia x injured!reader

request: Hello! How about scenario where character offers help to injured!gn!reader, who is very mistrustful of and reluctant to accept it? I smh love the dynamic "no I don't want your help or anything to do with you but I don't really have a choice". And yeah, I feel like Tartaglia fits it well though you may choose whoever you feel like T v T

format: two-parter (part two here)

ship: tartaglia x reader

tags: reader is the traveler-ish (a completely separate character from aether and lumine, but still the traveler, does that make sense?)

warnings: blood, mildly graphic depiction of injury, stitches and needles

words: 1951

notes: this request awoke something in me, i feel like i could’ve written an entire 70k words fic on this if i had the energy. im sorry anon but i kinda went off the rails with this one hfjdkhfd i hope you still enjoy it. also yeah the header is mildly fucked up because i don’t have the energy to find a better png ok.

You fell to the ground, placing your hands right in a small puddle of your own blood, while a ruin hunter laid on the ground, defeated. Your legs had given in, as a sharp pain hit you through your entire left thigh. There was a large cut on your pants, through which you could see a long, bloody, wound on your skin left by the mechanical monstrosity. It wasn’t too deep, but damn if it hurt.

You squeezed your eyes closed, and let out a loud groan. Reaching a hand into your bag, you pulled out the antiseptic solution you always brought with you, and found out that the bottle was empty. You rummaged more through the bag, looking for a numbing cream, an analgesic potion, even just a remnant of a bandage, anything that could help. Nothing.

Panic started settling in your chest, you were completely alone, in the middle of Lisha, where Hilichurls could attack you at any moment, and you were injured just enough that you wouldn’t be able to walk, let alone run away or even fight. You laid down with your back to the ground and covered your face with your hands, as your palms suffocated another loud groan.

You would have to crawl all the way back to the city, or until you found someone willing to help you before fainting from the slow, but consistent, loss of blood. Or worse, dying from shock.

Suddenly, you heard a voice in the distance yell “hey!” Then a second time, with a clearly worried tone in their voice. The pain in your leg made it almost impossible for you to focus on recognizing who that voice belonged to, but it didn’t matter - you were about to finally get some help. You kept your eyes closed as you raised a hand and waved it, showing whoever your savior was where you were.

As you didn’t move from the ground, you heard steps, quickly getting closer to you, until you could feel the presence of someone right above you.

“Oh thank the Archons, I’m completely out of-” you opened your eyes and were met with two bright blue irises staring into yours, and all of the sudden you recognized the voice from before.

“Did that ruin hunter hit you?” Tartaglia was perched right next to your injured leg, already starting to open a backpack that you didn’t recognize as his. He moved his eyes to your thigh and reached out a hand towards it. You swiftly moved the leg away from him, forgetting that it would make it hurt even more, and whimpered when the pain grew.

“I don’t want help from a Harbinger, least of all you” you spat out as you slowly sat up and used your hands to back away from him.

“Stop moving, or you’ll make it worse,” he said plainly as he stood up and followed you, while you kept backing away ignoring the pain through your leg.

“I’ll lose a leg before I let the fatui help me.”

“Alright then, I guess I’ll just watch you crawl all the way back to the Harbor.” He crossed his arms. Oh, he thought he was being funny?

You kept backing away with your arms, until you felt something hard hit your back. A rather large rock was blocking your way, and you would have to crawl around it, and the young man laughed, slowly walking towards you as he took his gloves off and put them in a pocket. You tried moving sideways, but he was quick to crouch down and grab you by the ankle, the one on the injured side, right when you moved.

You inhaled and closed your eyes as a sharp pain shot through your leg. “Are you out of your mind? That hurt!”

He kept your ankle pinned to the ground. “Don’t move,” he ordered. He used his free hand to carefully move the ripped fabric of your clothes out of the way, and get a better look of your wound. You started to feel lightheaded as you saw him tear the fabric further.

You felt some sort of damp cloth on your skin,figuring it was being used to clean the blood off your injury. Tartaglia was being so careful that you could barely feel it, it seemed like he had done this a million times before. You closed your eyes, placing a hand over them, and tilted your head forward, suddenly feeling overcome with dizziness.

“You’re losing a lot of blood. If you hadn’t moved, it would not be this bad right n-” he interrupted himself and he called your name. “You still with me?”

“Mh- huh-uh” you started feeling uneasy. You opened your eyes slightly and caught a glimpse of the wound and immediately looked away. So much blood.

“Stay awake, don’t close your eyes again.” You heard a ruffling of fabric, the damp cloth wasn’t on your skin anymore. “Tell me about the Archons.”

“What?”

“Tell me all of the Archons’ names and their elements,” he repeated. You couldn’t figure out why he wanted you to tell him, but you followed his order, keeping your eyes away from your wound, and instead fixating on the grass beneath you. You were feeling too dizzy to protest, your only choice was to trust him, despite all of your instincts yelling at you to get away from him.

“Okay, there’s... Barbatos, god of Anemo.” You heard more fabric rustling coming from him, but you refused to look at what he was doing.

“Yes, then?”

The dizziness was still overwhelming, but you managed to keep talking, “Morax, god of Geo.” Clinking of glass, probably bottles. “Tsaritsa, goddess of Cryo.”

“Mh-mh.” He sounded… focused. What was he doing?

“Baal, goddess of- Fuck!” The skin around the wound started burning, and so did the wound itself. You bit your lip hard and groaned as the burning kept going on and on, your skin was itching and for a split second it was almost unbearable. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Antiseptic potion,” he replied plainly. “I had to find a way to distract you or you wouldn’t have let me use it.”

“Bastard.” Your skin kept burning, but you slowly got used to the pain as you watched the clear potion sizzling over your still open wound.

He barked a laugh, “I’m trying to help you over here, you’re very welcome.”

You looked at his hands as he skillfully kept cleaning your wound, now there was way less blood coming out and you were starting to feel slightly more at easy. He lifted his head and looked right into your eyes.

“It’s not too deep, but it would probably be better if I stitched it.”

“You sound like you’ve done this before.”

“Of course I have, you think these healed themselves?” he asked, pointing at the seemingly long scar that started from the base of his neck and went down under his shirt. “At some point you have to learn how to stitch them up yourself.”

You exhaled deeply, still keeping your eyes on his. You realized that his irises resembled the starconches you had seen laid in the sand of Yaoguang Shoal’s beaches.

“Do you have an anaesthetic something to make the stitching hurt less, at least?”

He looked into the bag, moving things around, as if he had no idea what was actually inside the backpack. So it definitely wasn’t his.

He shook his head, pursing his lips slightly. “No, sorry.”

“It’s…” you pondered over it. You would probably have to go all the way to Bubu pharmacy to get an anaesthetic, and on the way there you might lose even more blood. “It’s okay.”

From his backpack, that you hadn’t realized was laid on the ground by your feet, he pulled out a small tin box, and from the box he took out an interestingly shaped needle, recurved like a crescent moon, then a pair of tweezers and a thread so thin you could barely see it.

Just by looking at the needle, you felt uneasy again. “Are you sure we can’t go to the Harbour and get help there?”

“We can do that, if that’s what you prefer, but I would have to carry you - I doubt you could walk at all right now.”

Somehow, the embarrassment of other people seeing you being carried, bridal style, by Tartaglia was stronger than any pain you might have to go through to get these stitches done.

“Fuck it, do it. But be quick.”

“I will try my best,” he said, and his tone sounded genuine to you. You still couldn’t believe you were trusting him like this, after everything he had done to you. “Try to think about something else, focus on anything but the stitches, it’ll hurt less.” He passed the thread through the needle’s hole with surprising skill.

“Okay, uh-” you watched him hover the needle over your skin, probably thinking about the fastest and least painful way to do the job. You moved your gaze from the open would to look at his face, and his expression seemed calm enough to put you somewhat at ease.

His lips were slightly parted and you noticed that he was biting his own tongue, the amount of focus he was putting into helping you was so intriguing to you, you could have never had imagined that he would be so… caring. At least not to you.

You suddenly felt the needle prick through your skin and you whimpered slightly. “Sorry,” he quickly said, before using the tweezers to make the needle pass through your skin and grab it again on the other end.

He repeated the process a few times, slowly pulling the thread every now and then to make the stitch tighter. You observed him the entire time, his eyes quickly darting from one spot to the other, his nose and mouth breathing at a steady pace. You saw him scrunch up his nose a few times, probably to release tension.

Each stitch hurt, you could feel the entire needle pass through your skin and come out again every single time, but you didn’t protest at all, and instead focused on counting the freckles on Tartaglia’s nose bridge, watching the muscles under his skin move every time he swallowed, and carding your fingers through the grass, accidentally ripping some every now and then.

“Done,” you heard him say in an unexpectedly cheerful tone. “I have some bandages, but I don’t think they’re enough for this large of a cut. Though, now that it’s stitched up, it’s probably safe for you to move, and I can help you get to the Harbor where you can buy some numbing potion and bandages.”

You looked down at the wound, and to your relief the stitches looked like they would hold together pretty well. “Sure, I think I can hop for a while, if you hold me.”

He picked up both his and your bag, putting them over his shoulder, then reached out a hand towards you and you realized just how bloody his hands were, as well as his clothes. You grabbed it with your own bloody hand and slowly stood up, placing your weight on the healthy leg. He placed your arm around his shoulders and put his own behind your back, holding you up.

“Ready to go?”

“Mh-mh.” You started walking in the direction of the Harbor, hopping on one leg while Tartaglia held you up.

“Whose backpack is that?” you tried asking.

“Honestly? No idea.”

“What were you doing here in Lisha, anyway?”

“Just some Fatui business, don’t worry about it,” he quickly dismissed your question.

“Always so secretive.”

#reblogs and comments very much appreciated !!#pats my own back #yeah this is good #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin impact #tartaglia #genshin tartaglia #genshin childe #childe #so many fucking tags #blood tw #needles tw #injury tw

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vostokovasmelina · 3 years

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— 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝟑𝐂. (𝐬.𝐰.)

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐢 | 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

characters: fem!reader; sam wilson; archibald the tabby cat; sarah wilson (mentioned)

word count: 2.1k+

warning: none (no tfatws spoilers yet)

series summary: after the blip, sam wilson gets home to an unpleasant surprise - his key doesn’t fit the lock anymore and his apartment is now inhabited by a stranger and a grumpy feline. however, the unusual encounter is only just the beginning of their post-blip lives and the reader soon learns that what life takes away, it can give back in the most particular ways.

a/n: if this flops, i’m quitting.

Sam was tired. Truly, utterly tired. It felt like he hadn’t felt anything but fatigue for the last few days, the kind that seeps deep into your bones and cozies up in your marrow, the kind that never seems to leave. Like, ever again.

He knew he was probably supposed to call Sarah and tell her he was on his way. They had only talked once since he came back, right before Tony’s funeral, and even that was a rather brief telephone call. His sister had told him there was something he needed to know but Sam had said they would talk once he got to hers. First, he needed some rest. A short nap would do, really. And a cup of strong black coffee. Or maybe two.

He parked his car where he always had; the space furthest to the left, right under his favorite maple tree that looked so pretty in the autumn and kept the inside of Sam’s car relatively cool in the summer. He watched for a while as the light spring breeze played with the fresh green mane of this majestic old lady, and felt a soft wave of calm rush through every tiny particle of him. He was home. The battle was over and he was on his way to his family. He wouldn’t take that nap. He’d just get his stuff out of his car and put Cap’s shield somewhere safe - he would deal with that later.

But he would have that coffee. He did deserve a treat after all.

Sam had no trouble getting inside the building, thanks to a delivery guy leaving right when he was about to enter. He took a deep breath, just a short second before making his way up the stairs to the third floor. He had been told at least a million times that what felt like five seconds to him, had actually been five years for those left behind. And still, the dirty old apartment complex had not changed at all, not even a tiny bit. Everything had stayed the same; the chipped grey paint on the dense walls, the rusty banister, the dusty steps... It felt like a time capsule. It felt safe, it felt like home.

Except it wasn’t anymore.

As soon as he got up to his floor, he knew something was off. He didn’t realise at first but he did approach the door to his apartment more carefully, with a slight shadow of a frown on his face. Sam slowed down his last few steps and looked the door up and down, down and up again, checking every corner for something out of the ordinary, something that was not meant to be there. When he found nothing, he chuckled to himself. So stupid. He had become paranoid. It was only natural given his job but honestly, it had been high time he had calmed down. So he slid his hand into his jacket pocket to grab his keys, and with a small smile lingering in the corners of his lips, he tried to unlock his door.

And that was precisely when his smile fell.

The key just wouldn’t go into the lock. Sam tried to insert every single one of them, even went as far as attempting to force his car key through the tiny hole, which obviously didn’t work. His anxiety was slowly building up in his stomach again and just as he looked down at his key charm, he realised what had made him so suspicious the first time - his doormat was gone. His black scraper had been replaced by a dark green carpet doormat that looked like it was in desperate need for a wash. Or maybe a one-way trip to the dumpsters.

Eyebrows furrowed, Sam looked up at the rusty number 3c on the door and, once sure it was indeed his apartment, he thought he’d try his luck with the doorknob as well. His fingers were already wrapped around the cold metal when the door swung open with such force that Sam froze for a few seconds.

“I’m warning you; I’m armed!”

Sam immediately threw his hands into the air and even took a step back from your doorstep. He was frozen for a few seconds and only relaxed when he saw what you were actually holding in your hands - a tabby cat in one, and a bottle of deodorant in the other. He let out a silent sigh of relief at the sight and slowly brought his arms back to his sides, but he made sure to stay put and not to approach you just yet.

“It’s alright! I mean no harm.”

* * *

Several minutes later your heart was still racing, threatening to punch a whole through your chest and making a getaway down the corridor. However, you slowly relaxed your muscles as your breathing started to calm down, too, still staring the stranger dead in the eyes and making sure to hold Archie as steadily as your shaking hand could. Once you had decided you trusted the words of the man standing before you, you dropped your other hand holding the almost empty - and therefore useless - bottle. However, you did keep your distance and wrapped your now free fingers tightly around the doorknob on the inside, ready to smash it into his face the moment it would be necessary.

“Can I help you?” You asked, cradling your uninterested cat closer to your chest and burying your fingers deep in his soft fur. You raised a wary eyebrow at the stranger standing in your doorway who himself seemed just as suspicious as you were. As if he had any right to.

“Yeah...”

You watched him look you up and down, your little grey feline jumping to your defence and staring the man dead in the eyes as if daring him to spend one more second eyeing you. And it worked. With a tiny frown he looked you in the eyes again and continued. Good job, Archie.

“Who are you?”

You thought he was joking. So you laughed and then saw the man’s face and then felt bad. He was absolutely not joking. He was genuinely confused and obviously had no idea who you were. And it was not like you were a celebrity around here but you had built quite a decent following of fellow plant-lovers over on Instagram, so you were actually mildly offended.

But it was alright; you decided to let it slide and give this stranger a chance. Who knows, maybe he had been following your updates on your snake plant stories. He did look like a snake plant kind of guy.

And maybe you could also clear up the confusion around why he had been trying to break into your home just a minute ago.

So you told him your name and when he still looked as confused as ever, you looked at him expectantly, shifting Archie’s weight from one arm to the other.

“And... who are you?” You finally decided to help him out and even offered him a tiny smile, which evaporated the second you heard his answer leave his lips.

“Sam Wilson. I-”

“Sam Wilson?” You cut him off and stared at him for a few seconds, trying to process the information. The longer you looked, the more obvious the similarities got and you cursed at yourself silently for not having realised it before. Sarah had warned you about it the moment the news broke out but she had also promised to deal with it and let you know once she had enlightened her brother. You had been expecting a phone call or maybe a text, definitely not the brother himself right on your doorstep.

“Yeah. Why?”

You had already opened your mouth to answer but were interrupted by Archie who had obviously had enough of being cradled like a baby and since the drama seemed to have ended, he was no longer interested. You let him land on the floor gently and nudged him in the direction of your tiny living room before turning back towards Sam and opening the door several inches wider.

“You know, I really think you should come in.”

“No, I have to call my sister and-”

“You haven’t called Sarah yet?!” You exclaimed, stopping in your tracks and shaking your head ever so slightly. “She’s gonna be so pissed, man.”

You watched him furrow his eyebrows and do that thing again where he looked you up and down, down and up again as if you could be an alien in disguise trying to lure him into some intergalactic trap. As if you hadn’t just tried to protect yourself with an empty deodorant bottle and a kitten. Sam Wilson clearly was a poor judge of character.

“Yeah, I know your sister, get over it. Would you please come inside?”

You put on your most friendly smile just for him and stepped aside, gesturing Sam inside the apartment you both knew so well. He gave you one last wary look before stepping over the threshold, and you rolled your eyes at him behind his back before closing the door behind the two of you.

* * *

“Tea? Or maybe coffee?” Sam heard from behind him and did a double take before turning towards you, already making your way to the tiny kitchen area divided from the living room only by a worn wooden table. Sam watched you take out two identical white mugs from one of the cabinets and felt his stomach jump up into his throat and fall back into its place again; that was exactly where he kept his mugs, too. Well, used to keep them.

“Oh, ugh, coffee. Please. Black. One sugar.”

He saw you nod and get to work. Sam did wait for a while for you to start the conversation and finally explain to him what was going on. When that didn’t actually happen, he turned his head to look around, trying to shake off the weird feeling he had seeing you feel so at home in what used to be his home just a few days ago. Or five years ago. Question of perspective.

The first thing Sam noticed once he had actually taken the time to look around was green. What, at first glance, had slipped his attention was now screaming at him from every corner of the apartment. The living room was filled to the brim with houseplants. There were handsome little pots of plants on the windowsills, on the bookshelves, even on the kitchen counter. What hadn’t fit higher, got place on the floor.

You had turned the apartment into a botanical garden.

“Hey, plant lady? Is this even legal? It feels illegal.” He gestured all around the room and you followed his movement with your eyes, a tiny grin creeping its way onto your face but disappearing the very next second. Sam tried his best to play along and act like he hadn’t even noticed.

“Oh would you look at that, you can actually form full sentences,” you teased, giving him a side-eyed look before handing him your mug filled with hot black coffee, which Sam took gladly, ignoring the drop of sarcasm in your voice.

“Those are actually fine,” you continued after the first sip of your tea and pointing at the cat yawning on the dirty old couch in the middle of the living room. “Archie is the only problem here. But hush, he’s a secret.”

“How can you keep a cat here in secret?”

“I bribed the superintendent,” you whispered, leaning a little closer to Sam and flashing him a perfect albeit forced smile.

“Old Charlie? No way!” Sam scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief.

“O-ho, yes way! Everyone has a weakness and I’ve found our old Charlie’s.”

“Which is...?”

“... a secret I’ve vowed to take to the grave with me,” you replied and gave emphasis to your words with a tiny nod of your head, leaving Sam slightly disappointed but smirking nonetheless.

In the short silence that followed, he took another sip of his hot coffee, enjoying every millisecond of the burning, bittersweet sensation before finally addressing the elephant in the room. Because even though his suspicions had somewhat settled, Sam was still completely confused about how on Earth you could possibly know his sister and talk about her so casually. And you must have been thinking of the same thing because as he looked at you above his now half empty mug and your gazes met, you closed your eyes and let out a sigh, gesturing towards the small kitchen table.

“Let’s talk, I guess.”

* * *

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@spencereidisabicon

@whutisthus

@bravelittlesunflower

@katethecrazy

@swanimagines

@amirahiddleston

@remusflirts

@musicallisto

#sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson headcanon #the falcon #the falcon x reader #the falcon imagine #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #tfatws imagine #tfatws mini series #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu mini series #mcu reader insert #sarah wilson #bucky barnes

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jaskiersvalley · 3 years

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Hair of the Dog

The problem with having a goat as a pet was that Eskel had a goat as a pet. It was usually wonderful, Lil Bleater was a menace and Eskel loved her for it. Alas, some days she was a little more than he bargained for. Visiting Geralt on the farm was always a delight, it was one of the few places Bleats could explore without a leash and Eskel knew she was safe.

All in all it was a great day, a rarity for the whole extended family to get together. Geralt had Yennefer and Jaskier with him, they were playing pass the parcel with Ciri, except whenever they unwrapped her, it was always a dirty nappy rather than a fun treat under her layers. How Eskel ended up with a family where both his brothers had two partners was a mystery, it was perhaps why he was still a bachelor with only Lil Bleater as his companion, Lambert and Geralt had soaked up all the appeal for themselves and left none for Eskel.

"Where are the Gremlins?" Eskel asked, looking around. The Gremlins were also known as Lambert, Aiden and Cahir. One at a time and they were manageable but the three together wreaked unknown havoc and destroyed an alarming number of clothes between them. If they ever wore safety pins through clothes, Eskel knew it wasn't for aesthetics at all.

"Last I heard they were heading for the barn. Cahir was going to see whether the new pony is ready to be worked yet." Somehow Geralt sounded resigned and they all knew that while the trio might have looked at the gelding, they were most definitely going to be making out or more in one of the empty stalls.

Rolling his eyes, Eskel nodded. "I'm not risking that. Tell them I said goodbye and that Lambert still owes me a drink next week, will you?" He clicked his tongue and watched as Lil Bleater blatantly ignored him in favour of hopping over puddles. Just because she was having too much fun and still full of energy despite a whole day of charging around didn't mean she got to keep going. Resigned to his fate of chasing his goat in order to get her home, Eskel lumbered off, trying to look like he wasn't approaching her with intent. Needless to say, it didn't work. With expert ease Lil Bleater avoided him, bounding just out of reach. Even worse, he brothers were watching and Eskel wanted to growl at them that they might as well help if they were going to watch. Thankfully he managed to grab his wayward goat, only for her to protest in the worst possible way, she threw herself onto the ground. Normally Eskel wouldn't mind but she chose to roll in a puddle, her white fur soaking in the muddy water and staining it.

"Well shit."

Dripping goat firmly leashed, Eskel stared at her. She watched him unrepentantly for a moment before trying to nibble at her leash. Eskel had learned the hard way that he needed a metal chain leash for her, nothing else survived her incessant chomping. There was no way he could take her home like that, and hosing her down wasn't going to be much good as she's just drip more water in the car and make it smell even more of wet goat.

Thankfully he always had a towel or two in the boot so Eskel could pat her mildly dry but the puddle hadn't been simple mud and water, only heightening the stench. Thinking about his poor tub, Eskel knew he wouldn't be able to give Bleats a bath. The one time he had tried, he'd needed to buy a new shower curtain and invest in some repairs to the tub. Little goat hooves were not compatible with his bathroom. Stashing her in her travel crate, Eskel pulled his phone out and searched for possible solutions. The most sensible was a pet groomer, alas the three numbers he tried all refused to deal with a goat. Some days Eskel cursed himself for not having a more traditional pet.

"You trying to get a groomer?" Cahir sidled up to him, eyes glinting with the promise of mischief.

"Yeah, but it's not like anyone wants to bathe a goat." Not that Eskel was bitter. He didn't expect Cahir to laugh.

"You just haven't asked the right one. Come on, I'll introduce you to someone who'll help. Just follow my bike."

It was easier said than done. While Eskel had heard stories from Lambert about the strange love affair Cahir had with his bike, it was a whole different thing to see it. Having witnessed it, Eskel had to wonder whether there were four in that relationship rather than three as he'd originally thought.

Hair of the Dog looked like a bit of a shithole if Eskel was honest. It was out in a small industrial park near a village, wooden cladding faded and looking in desperate need of a paint. Helmet under his arm, Cahir barged in without a care for the sign that declared the place closed.

"Scales!" He hollered, impatiently holding the door open for Eskel. "Got you a client."

Not quite knowing what to expect, Eskel's eyes widened when a man larger than him appeared, scowling at Cahir.

"What did I tell you about my opening hours? And fucking hell what is that stench?"

Cahir leaned against the wall with a shit eating grin and gestured towards Eskel and Lil Bleater knowingly.

"That's a goat." It was possibly the dumbest thing anyone could have said.

"No, I'm a human called Eskel," Eskel shot back, a little irked.

The laugh was warm and genuine as the owner of the grooming parlour caught on. "Letho. Who's your stinky companion?"

Somehow Eskel found himself charmed by the fact Letho didn't baulk at the fact he was being presented with a goat. He even invited Eskel to stay and watch the whole process of washing and drying his pet. What struck Eskel was how gentle he was through it all, talking to Bleats as much as he talked to Eskel.

"Wouldn't have clocked you as a dog groomer," Eskel admitted while Lil Bleater was enjoying her second rinse.

"Didn't peg you as a goat owner."

"Touche. You like dogs?" Which was a ridiculous thing to ask, given that Letho's work involved a lot of dogs and possibly a few cats. However, Letho shook his head.

"They're alright. But I wouldn't own one."

"Cats?"

"Guess again."

Eskel squinted at Letho. "I can't really say I can picture you with a parrot."

Another laugh and Eskel found himself quite fond of the raw honesty in it. He waited patiently for an answer though.

"Tell you what-" Letho suggested, "-let me finish up with my last client and then I can show you, if you're interested. It's a snake."

"I only inspect trouser snakes on third date," Eskel said, peering around. "If I had known you'd had other clients, I would have happily waited."

The spray of water was playfully turned on him, barely missing him. "It's you, you numpty. I'm closed on Tuesdays, that's admin day." A soft flush spread across Eskel's cheeks at that and Letho continued, "If I put Gully down my trousers, I don't think she'd ever forgive me. And I don't think she'd fit. She's a reticulated python."

"As long as she doesn't eat Bleats, I think we're good." Eskel had no idea about snakes but, given the size of Letho, he could imagine him with a large snake, no pun intended.

In the silence that fell on them, Eskel looked around again with a frown. "Did Cahir go?"

That had Letho looking up too. He left Lil Bleater to dry, quite thrilled at the prospect of having a fluffy goat stepping out of the dryer soon, and wandered out into the reception area. On the desk was a note.

"You owe me a drink. Maybe two. We told you you'll like him."

Groaning, Letho threw the note away but not before Eskel saw.

"That sounded ominous."

"The Three Fucketeers have been trying to set me up for a while. I resisted. Guess they win."

Grinning, Eskel shrugged. "They don't have to know that, do they?"

That had Letho looking up too. He left Lil Bleater to dry, and wandered out into the reception area. On the desk was a note.ion out no matter how hidden. Which led Eskel to the conclusion that if he couldn't beat them, they could join them. It was very unlikely they'd want graphic details so, with great confidence, Eskel met Letho's rather large snake. And he met Gully too.

#lethskel #letho/eskel #minor cahir/aiden/lambert #eskel #letho of gulet #cahir mawr dyffryn aep ceallach #tldr: letho the dog groomer meets lil bleater

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thiscastielhasflown · 3 years

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day three of day two of j&kcreatorfest (with @expectingtofly)— prompts: movie night or baking dean just wants to watch brokeback mountain in peace and cas is there to enjoy the emotional roller coaster ride. (2.1k) [does contain spoilers of the movie's plot, you have been warned]

"Okay choose — Midnight Cowboy or Brokeback Mountain?"

Cas looks directly at Dean who is standing in front of him holding two DVDs and smiling wide with eagerness. To celebrate and commemorate their first Pride Month official out together, both collectively decided to watch a different LGBTQ+ themed movie every night during June (if at all possible).

Rather than the Winchester/Leahy family's normal Tuesday night movie routine, Sam and Eileen were more than willing to change up their usual viewing schedule — even helping to prepare and order movies unavailable to be streamed. But sadly this night coincided with their short weekend getaway trip up to Donna's cabin for a needed change in scenery from the bleak walls of the bunker. No matter how good the movie choice was going to be for those nights, nothing compares to either couple getting some alone time together.

Cas and Dean are left alone to watch a movie in the newly renovated 'Dean Cave' — now including a larger sectional couch (to fit everyone more comfortably), an LED monogrammed neon light of Dean's nickname from Cas, 'Titan', along with new pictures hung up from a recent family photoshoot, and a new stereo sound system all set up by Dean earlier that day.

While Dean was busy with that, Cas was in the kitchen trying out a homemade sourdough pretzel dough recipe — made with his own fermented starter — along with a batch of double-chocolate chunk brownies with lines of caramel crisscrossing across the top as their movie viewing snack for the night.

"I thought we were watching the Trixie Mattel documentary."

"I know we agreed on that, but I'm more into a gay cowboy sort of mood tonight. You feel me?"

Cas blinks, "I haven't felt you yet."

"Cas, it's a figure of speech. Stay on track. Which one do you want to watch?"

"Isn't Trixie a gay Western icon as anyway?"

Dean hesitates, "Well, I would say not exactly. Maybe because of her music style and love for Dolly—"

"Parton, we've listened to her music before," Cas interrupts.

Dean smiles, "Yes we have. We've listened to Trixie too. So I guess it depends on who you ask if they’d categorize her as a modern gay Western icon in the drag business. We're sidetracked, please just pick one."

"Okay, sorry. How about the one with the happier ending."

Dean pauses to think, "I don't think either end up happy."

"Then the one where someone doesn't die."

Dean pauses again, "I...do believe someone dies in both of them."

"Then what are the differences?"

"To be honest, there really aren't that many," Dean laughs it off, "They both take place within the same 1960s setting, even though Brokeback was made in 2004. There are two main male characters in both, who aren't close in the beginning but end up so by the end. Um. The biggest difference is that Brokeback actually takes place in Western-type locations, where Midnight Cowboy setting is in New York. Is any of this helping in your decision process?"

"To be honest, not really," Cas stands up from the couch and adjusts his shirt, "Well, you go ahead and make the final decision, okay? Let me go grab the pretzels and brownies from the kitchen while you get it set up. Want a beer?"

"Yes, please. Can you bring extra cheese sauce too?" Dean answers.

"Of course, nacho or cheddar?"

A sparkle glazes over Dean's eyes as he looks at Cas, a smirk making its way across his lips, "How about both?"

"Sure can," Cas leans in to give Dean a kiss on the cheek, brushing his hand up against the other man's shoulder, "Be right back."

Dean watches Cas walk out of the room with a smug look on his face, admiring his love before bending down in front of the TV console and turning on the DVD player to give it time to boot up. He looks back and forth between either movie case, still unable to pick one over the other. Sighing, he ends up picking Brokeback Mountain, knowing deep down that Cas would most likely end up enjoy watching it more.

As he stands back up holding the DVD player remote in his hand, he hears the sound of Cas walking down in the hallway near the mancave’s door. They've been together so long at this point, but even the slightest presence of Cas will still make a butterfly giddiness erupt inside of Dean.

"Right on time as always," Dean puts down the remote after pushing 'play', grabbing the plate and beer held out to him by Cas.

He holds it up to his nose and breathes in the mingling smells of delicious food, "You really outdid yourself on this one."

Cas blushes from the compliment before pulling his own plate closer to him, breaking off a piece of the brownie and slipping it into his mouth, "Glad to know you approve."

Dean winks and takes a bite of his own, letting out a tiny moan of satisfaction from the taste, "Did you put sea salt in this?"

"I'm surprised you noticed, it was one of my secret ingredients I added in. Thought it would go well with the caramel."

"Your intuition was right, this is delicious," Dean takes another large bite and lets the flavors melt over his tongue.

At this point in the movie, Jack and Ennis sit at the bar drinking together, getting the chance to have the last bit of freedom before heading up to the mountain to work. This reminds Dean of the many times he's shared a drink with Cas before they assumed the worst would happen, losing each other. Yet those moments have now become ones he'll never forget.

The soft touch of a hand against his face pulls Dean's eyeline from the movie, Cas reeling him into a deep kiss, their lips melding into each other creating a familiar yet comfortable feeling.

Before letting anything escalate Dean pulls back and faces his head back towards the TV, reaching up to wipe off his bottom lip softly, "Watch the movie, you're going to miss a good part."

Cas pulls away and pouts, giving him one last peck on the neck before returning fully to the boundaries of his seat.

Dean turns his head back again to Cas and reaches out for his hand, weaving their fingers together, "Hey don't do that, all I wanna do is watch the movie. We can do plenty of that later."

"Fine, fine," Cas mocks, grabbing a piece of the soft pretzel and dips it in the cheese, shoving it in his mouth with a hint of annoyance.

They manage to in silence to watch the movie a little longer before Cas speaks up again, "So...what exactly is going on?"

Dean clears his throat, "Well, Jack and Ennis got their orders to go up to the mountain to go work with the sheep and they're still trying to get used to each other. Testing out the ropes, trying to work together as a team."

"Are you sure they fall in love? They definitely don't very seem into each other at the moment."

Dean takes a sip of his beer, "Love happens in mysterious ways Cas, just like us. It is never as easy as we think, especially when two people don't really get along, to begin with."

"We got along just fine, what are you talking about?"

The only thing Dean does when he hears Cas make that statement is laugh, downing another large gulp of his beer.

Cas tilts his head, "Why are you laughing?"

"Your memory must be skewed now that you're human. Don't you remember threatening my life multiple times? Trust me, you and Uriel were a couple of dicks for the majority of that early time."

"I've changed a lot since then."

Dean smiles and squeezes Cas' hand, "We've both changed a lot. Us, being here like this, is the ending we both deserve. For them, it was much harder of a situation. Their free will isn't as fluid as the ones we take for granted."

"You're not telling me—" Cas sits back with wide eyes, trying to formulate the future plot points in his head.

"I'm not going to spoil anything from the movie, you're going to have to watch it yourself to find out yourself," Dean mimics zipping his lips and turning a key to lock it, "My lips are sealed.”

A sudden vibration erupts from Dean's back, shoving his hand into it and pulling out his phone to see Sam's picture contact picture lit up (from a drunken Halloween night dressed up in a Chewbacca costume, minus the head, with a herbal cigarette dangling between his lips), swiping to answer, "Hey Sammy, what's going on?"

"Hey-uh-hi, are you busy right now?" Sam asks in a mildly frantic tone of voice over the phone.

"Well—" Dean signals to Cas to pause the movie, "It is movie night like you know, but I can talk. Everything going okay?"

"No, yeah, everything is fine. Do you know how to treat a spider bite?"

Dean coughs slightly in surprise, "Are you telling me you already managed to get a spider bite?"

Cas, overhearing the conversation holds a hand up to his mouth to help suppress the giggling he's unable to prevent himself from doing.

"Yeah, um, neither Eileen and I can remember if it's supposed to be a cold or warm compress."

Dean shakes his head and lets out a chuckle, "Did you just drunkenly call me, to ask me, how to treat a spider bite less than 24 hours after leaving here?"

"Yes Dean, do you have the answer or not?"

"Go get some ice and makeshift ice pack. For the swelling. Any other questions?"

Sam pauses not answering right away, Dean hears the sound of rustling and clanking of ice in the background, "No that should be it. Thank you."

"Yep, you're welcome. Bye," Dean hangs up before Sam can say anything else.

"I'm sorry for all of the distractions tonight Dean, I really am. I know how much you wanted to watch this movie," Cas puts a hand on his shoulder, slightly massaging at the tense muscle underneath Dean's favorite Led Zeppelin shirt.

"It's fine Cas, we can stop the movie if you want. Maybe pick it back up tomorrow?"

"Why can't we continue watching it? If we have to pause again, then we pause again. Anyway, you have me interested in learning what will happen.”

“Alright, we’ll continue.”

Thankfully, no one else bothers them for the rest of the movie. Even when Cas was confused in certain sections, he reminded quiet and attentively watched, quickly becoming attached to the characters and the blossoming (and losing) love between them. When the credits begin to roll, Dean looks over to see Cas crying, tears streaming down his face, and biting on his bottom lip to possibly contain his emotions.

"Cas, what's wrong?"

"The jacket...Jack was the one who took the jacket that Ennis thought he forget on the mountain. He took it and kept it for all those years. And now...with Jack gone..." Cas leans in towards Dean, who wraps his arms around his shoulder in comfort, pressing little kisses on the top of his head. He lets Cas cry, holding onto him tight.

When Cas feels ready enough to pull away, Dean reaches up to wipe the tears from his cheeks, "What’s wrong Cas?"

"It just reminds me of us. When you kept my coat, the symbolism of keeping an article of clothing when your loved one is gone. In this case—" Cas sucks in a deep breath, bottom lip quivering, "Ennis lost Jack, his soulmate. But no matter how many times you've lost me, I've always come back. I wish that could have been the same for them."

"Oh, babe..." Dean pulls Cas into a kiss, strong and supportive, "They got to share their love while they could, and even though things could have been different, that was the ending destined for the."

"Why couldn’t they have ended up together?"

"Just how their cards were played, nothing we can change about it.”

Cas sighs, rubbing away his remaining leftover tears, "This really is a goddamn bitch of a unsatisfactory situation."

Dean can't help himself from laugh out of happiness, "That was a pretty good usage of that phrase, glad to know you picked up on it."

"Oh, it's going to be my go-to now, along with 'I wish I knew how to quit you’."

"Sounds to me like you liked the movie. Well, I do have an idea," Dean stands up from the couch and reaches for Cas' hand, pulling him up to a standing position, "How about we go start something? Sound good to you?"

#j&kcreatorfest #dean winchester #castiel #deancas #destiel #i know this is late don't just me #i'm positing it anyway #this goes out to all of the drag queen brokeback mountain fans out there #hopefully i have hit a niche audience #jace is typing...

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thebakingqueen5 · 3 years

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KW 2021: Tease

Day 6 for Kataang Week 2021 hosted by @kataang-week with the prompt Tease!

I might have stuffed up the use of this word and its definition in context but shhhh it’s fine and this is cute.

Links: FF.net | AO3

Summary: Another year, another summer, another week of prompts celebrating our favorite couple. Kataang Week 2021 Day 6. Tease (verb): gently pull or comb (tangled wool, hair, etc.) into separate strands. Aka the take on the “tease” prompt that no one (not even me) expected.

Word Count: 1.8K

It had been a tiring, tension-filled day.

The war ended five, maybe six months prior, and the four nations were still partaking in the grueling process of learning to work together after a century’s worth of fighting. Considering that a group of teenagers were the reason there was any hope of amity in the first place, it came as little surprise that most of the pressure to arrange and facilitate treaties and peace talks fell on the Gaang, much to their chagrin.

And so here they were, utterly exhausted after a long day of trying to convince the Earth King and Zuko that violence was, in fact, bad, and stressed out of their minds, aching for a distraction.

It certainly didn’t help that tonight, of all nights, Katara’s long, dark hair was refusing to cooperate despite her having just stepped out of the shower a mere 10 minutes past. No matter how many times she ran the whalebone comb through her thick locks, nothing seemed to help, and her patience was quickly dissipating.

“Spirits, Zuko and Kuei are going to drive me absolutely crazy, sweetie.” Aang ranted as he entered her room, closing the door shut behind him as he made wild gestures with his hands.

“They’re both so… stubborn! And self-righteous and it’s getting us nowhere!” he huffed in frustration. “I wish they could just- oh.”

The airbender immediately faltered, finally noticing the appearance, or rather the clothing, of his girlfriend seated in front of a square mirror, nightgown riding quite high up her thigh.

“Sorry,” he blushed, eyes darting around the room to look anywhere, absolutely anywhere except at her to keep what little modesty they had left between them. “I didn’t know you had already showered and changed- I really should have knocked.”

Katara rolled her eyes, a slight pink tint rising to her cheeks as she returned to the task at hand: attempting to tame the lion’s mane she called her hair resting atop her head at that very moment.

“It’s fine, Aang,” she laughed, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. “No need to be embarrassed, really. Besides, it’s nothing you haven’t already seen.”

The waterbender snuck a quick glance at her boyfriend, and, quite frankly, she wasn’t sure he could get any redder if he tried. A tomato would have been jealous of the vibrant hue of Aang’s face, and he couldn’t stop staring at the floor, gaze entirely focused on the wooden boards beneath him.

The boy remained silent, and guilt began to fill Katara’s stomach.

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” she frowned, standing up. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I can go change if you want-”

Aang instantly looked up from the ground, quick to clarify his thoughts. “No, sweetie. It’s not that! It’s just- you look absolutely beautiful, and I don’t want me subconsciously staring at you to make you feel uncomfortable or uneasy around me.”

Katara’s eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise, and she patted a spot on the edge of the mattress, beckoning for him to come sit near her before turning back and glaring at herself in the mirror.

“Believe me, sweetie, there is very little you can do to make me feel uncomfortable around you. Honestly, it’s a bit of a compliment knowing that’s how I seem in your eyes,” she said shyly.

The airbender grinned and walked up to her. Feeling a little emboldened, he tenderly wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed a kiss to her cheek, chin barely reaching an inch above her shoulder.

“You could be wearing a potato sack and you’d still be the most beautiful woman in the world to me,” he murmured as his stormy eyes met her cerulean ones through the mirror.

“Really?” she raised an eyebrow and gestured to the mess on her head. “Even with this bird’s nest?”

“Always,” Aang smiled earnestly. “Speaking of, though, do you need some help with that?”

“I appreciate the offer, Aang, but I’ve been trying for the last half hour now and you aren’t exactly the most experienced with hair.”

“Well, maybe a new perspective is just what you need.”

He gently pulled her back towards the mattress a few feet away from the dresser with the mirror and sat her down in front of him. Rolling her eyes, the waterbender handed him her comb, but he simply cast it aside, instead using his nimble fingers to work through the knots and tangles in her hair.

Katara was right- he did have minimal experience with hair, not having much of his own, but he often played with hers when they spent time together. He knew what relaxed her and what didn't, which gave him the perfect means to seize this opportunity and prove her wrong, while also, of course, helping the two unwind and spend some time with one another.

The waterbender had already been quite frustrated when she had started working through her hair, and her movements had reflected that. She was stressed and antsy, and she combed harshly and roughly, only compressing the knotted hair to the end of the strand and making it harder to get out. Between that and the day she had, she had been close to tears and Aang’s gentle touch was just what she needed.

Much of Aang’s stress had been alleviated when he had entered the room earlier in simply being able to see and embrace his girlfriend. Because of this, he was able to take his time and the change of pace was nice for the both of them.

He worked slowly and methodically, fingers lightly massaging the top of her scalp before moving down to dampen and separate her wavy tresses into individual strips of hair with the help of some waterbending. He took care to not tug too hard on any one strand, having heard many a horror story from Katara in the past with her unable to tolerate anyone else handling her sensitive locks. The airbender was determined to make it a pleasant experience for the both of them, and it was.

In fact, Katara had been mildly shocked by the sheer love and effort she felt Aang direct into detangling her hair. It was sweet seeing him put so much energy towards trying something new just to help her, and the tension in her mind that had been knotted up began to unravel as well.

“Halfway,” Aang whispered, breaking her out of her thoughts. His gaze was still intense and focused on her unruly strands as she sighed softly and leaned ever so slightly back into him.

“I’m sorry I ever doubted you,” she murmured back. She closed her eyes as Aang’s rhythmic yet feathery touches to her scalp soothed her and then gave herself a quick look in the mirror through her peripheral vision- her hair was already looking a lot better and far more tame than it had been 15 minutes ago.

“That’s alright, just have a little more faith in your amazing boyfriend next time, yeah?” he winked with a smile, hands moving the hair he had untangled to the front as he directed his concentration to the last section.

This section was by far going to be the hardest- most of the strands were embedded into a few large and messy knots creating quite a complex network. Nevertheless, Aang was up to the challenge. He began humming an old Air Nomad folk tune, one of the many they’d perform at Yangchen’s Festival, causing Katara to hum along with him as he spread apart the last few unruly waves of hair.

After finishing, he steadily ran his fingers through her hair like a comb, taking extra care to caress the nape of her neck and back of her head as she sighed happily, and gave it one last sweep with the whale-bone comb.

“All done,” he said, tucking a lock behind her ear when she turned around to face him.

The waterbender beamed before lightly pushing him down on the bed as they both sank into the mattress.

“I take it you enjoyed it?” Aang laughed, looking up at her.

“Very much so,” Katara responded. She then carefully angled herself so that she was lying pressed up against Aang’s side, head resting in the crook of his neck.

“It was pretty relaxing for me too,” Aang blushed. “You know I love playing with your hair and this just kinda took it to another level. I’d be happy to do it for you in the future if you ever find yourself fighting with that comb again, that is.”

“I’d like that, Aang. A lot,” she smiled shyly. “It was great to just… unwind. Have you there with me and just relax. I was basically about to cry when you came in and you just melted all my worries away with those magical hands of yours.”

The airbender chuckled, snaking his arm around her shoulders and leaning his head against hers. “Glad to hear it, sweetie. It’s getting late though, and we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. Time for some rest?”

Katara wordlessly nodded, sighing and closing her eyes as Aang did the same and blew out the candles lighting up the room.

“Thank you for this, sweetie. I love you.”

“I love you too, Tara. Good night.”

The two were taken away into the dream realm, but an unspoken custom was crafted that night. It became a ritual, a way for both of them to calm down and escape the high stress levels of their everyday lives.

When Katara found her dad kissing Malina and it felt like her whole world was crumbling down around her, Aang had snuck into her room that night and combed and plaited her hair until they drifted off into each other’s arms.

When Aang had confided in the waterbender about feeling anxious and insecure about becoming a new father after she had informed him of her pregnancy, Katara had shown up to the stables with a comb and some apples for Appa in tow. The two ended up assuaging each other’s concerns while leaning back against the fluffy bison, much to their attention-seeking flying lemur’s annoyance.

Whether they were stressing over not being able to find an old book from the Southern Water Tribe after moving to Air Temple Island or had just come home after a near-death experience with the most dangerous bloodbender in the world, one of the two would always sit the stressed one down and grab a comb.

It never became a chore or something they dreaded; it was almost a secret love language for the couple. It was a way of reminding each other that no matter what was going on in their lives, they would always find time for each other and help one another. It pulled Aang and Katara out of some of their lowest, darkest moments, and it only accentuated their highs.

Such a simple, pure act born out of nothing but love and a desire to help- it should’ve been insignificant, a one-time thing, but it became so much more. To Katara and Aang, it meant the world.

#kataang week #kataang week 2021 #kataangtag #kw 2021 #kataang #aang x katara #atla fanfiction #aang #katara #fluff #romance

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ladykissingfish · 3 years

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A Date with an Angel // Part Three // Sasori and Itachi

Sasori

“Do you like this place? It’s really colorful, isn’t it?” “It’s alright.” “These nachos are delicious. Do you want some?” “No thanks, the cheese would upset my stomach. I’m mildly lactose intolerant.” Konan just sighs to herself and picks her drink back up, slowly sipping as she tries to think of a good topic for conversation. Earlier, when the redheaded house member Sasori had invited her to spend an evening with him, her surprise had been greater than with any of the others so far. When she’d first been introduced to the household back when she moved in, she’d taken one look at Sasori and had been shocked; later on she sat in Nagato’s room and demanded to know why he was employing children to do the type of work that they did. “Children?”, he’d responded, shaking his head. “Sasori is no child; he’s 35 years old. He’s older than me and you, even.” 35?? With his short stature, smooth, unlined face and vibrantly colored hair ... it was simply unbelievable. The more she got to know him, however, the more she realized that he was indeed very mature; maybe too mature. He never smiled, never laughed, and made even less conversation than Kakuzu did. Whenever Konan made meals, he never joined any of the others at the table. “Don’t worry; it don’t have anything to do with you or your cooking,” Deidara had told her one night when she questioned it. “The guy just never eats. Hardly sleeps, either. It’s like he’s not human or something.” Considering his quiet, serious personality, his choice of venue to take Konan to tonight was entirely odd. “A comedy club?”, she’d asked, as he guided her through the doors. “Mm. They’re amateurs but really quite good. I’m sure you’ll laugh a lot.” And laugh Konan did — but not Sasori. His facial expression didn’t change once all evening, and he didn’t so much as crack a smile through even the most hilarious of acts. Now it was the interlude between sets, and Konan was trying to find something, anything to make conversation about. Before she can, the next guy comes on. It’s a man with a small dummy that he sits on his knee, that “tells” the jokes for him. Konan happens to glance at Sasori and is startled; for once, he seems interested. His eyes stay fixated on the little wooden toy throughout the man’s set, and when he’s done, it’s the first time that Sasodi cracks any kind of a smile. “Are you a fan of ventriloquism?” Sasori turns towards her, and unleashes more words than she’s heard him say in the entire time of living at the house. Sasori is gesturing, he’s vivid and animated as he explains the process of creating dummies and puppets, and the finer points of ventriloquism. “I didn’t know this was a hobby of yours.” He raises an eyebrow, and tells her it goes far beyond a hobby. The show is over so he takes her back home, and brings her straight to his room (which she’s never seen the inside of before). She gives a little gasp upon entering; Sasori’s shelves are filled to the rafters with various wooden constructs, some unfinished, some painted, some clothes, some with hair and jewelry and —

Konan goes to pick up a smaller one laying on a bench, gently turning it this way and that. “This is so realistic,” she says, softly. “I wish I had the patience for creating art like this.” “What do you mean? Your art is amazing as well.” She blinks when he says that; surely he’s not referring to — “I’ve been in awe of your origami for quite some time. The things you create are very beautiful. I’d love it if you could teach me your technique sometime.” Konan blushes; nobody except Yahiko had ever complimented her origami hobby before. She sees a piece of paper laying on his desk, and begins slowly folding and teaching him how to make a basic flower. After observing and asking questions, he’s able to replicate the simple lotus. She then asks him if he could walk her through the process for creating one of his pieces, which he does, from sanding to sculpting to painting. “Things like this are better than humans,” he tells her, quietly, at one point. “These you can create, and you can control. But you never really know what a person is thinking, or feeling, or what they’re going to do next.” At the end of it, Konan glances up at the clock on his wall and gasps: 1am?! Where had the time gone?? She gets up and thanks Sasori for (what turned out to be) a lovely evening. He hesitates, then takes her hand and gives it a light kiss. “You are welcome to come back any time you wish,” he says, as he walks her to his door. “I’m a night owl so if I’m not out on a job, I’ll be awake and working.” She nods, smiles, then returns to her own room. Before she falls asleep she thinks of another flower to teach him: the campanula. These bright blossoms offer beauty, and intricacy ... and are a symbol of new friendships.

Itachi

“Oh my Goddd.” “What’s wrong, Konan?” “Nothing; it’s just, I haven’t felt this relaxed in a while. Itachi smiled and took a sip of his lemonade, before answering, in his quiet way, “Me, too.” When Konan had been approached by the dark-haired Itachi earlier in the day and asked if she wished to spend some time with him that afternoon, she’d been excited. Itachi was somebody that mostly kept to himself within the house; always quiet, very soft-spoken but when he DID speak he always said the most profound things Konan had ever heard. He was one of the most calm and mature members of Nagato’s team, an Konan’s shock upon discovering that he was only 21 years old was immense. One night she went into the kitchen to cook everyone a meal, and was pleasantly surprised to find Itachi there ahead of her, doing prep-work for the dish she had said she was going to make. From then on, the two developed a slow, lovely friendship, punctuated mostly by them cooking together and occasionally watching a movie in the living room. Today however was the very first time she went anywhere with him in public, and she was nearly flabbergasted when they pulled up to a well-known luxury spa. “This — Itachi this kinda stuff is expensive. I can’t let you —“ but he just waved her off, took her inside, and told the lady behind the desk that they both wanted “the works”. A slow, soothing full-body massage, manicures and pedicures, eye and hair treatment, mud masks, as many desserts as they wanted (Itachi especially seemed to have a thing for the sweet dumplings), and now, a hot tub. “I wouldn’t have thought a guy would be into stuff like this,” Konan commented, reaching for her sweet tea. “Man or woman, everyone needs the chance to relax, don’t they?” Konan nods, and then says “Well I’m sure that all of you that work for Nagato do. But me? What am I doing that I deserve something like this? MY job isn’t nearly as stressful, and —“ “You take care of all of us. You’re there for us. That may sound simplistic, but that’s no small feat, my dear.” The two are quiet for a while, listening to the relaxing nature-esque background music of the spa, before Itachi says, quietly, “If — if you ever feel like talking about HIM, you can talk to me. I don’t know if you’re ready but I want you to know I’ve experienced loss, too.” Konan closes her eyes; while she appreciates Itachi’s kindness, she’s NOT ready to talk about Yahiko. So she asks instead, “You lost someone close to you?” He nods, faces her, and tells her the story about losing his parents in a car accident when he was 12. His voice wavers when he tells her that they were coming home from a parent-teacher conference for HIM, and how, for the longest time, he blamed himself for their deaths. “Me and my younger brother Sasuke were taken in by my older cousin Shisui,” he explained, now smiling. “Nice guy but definitely not father material. I guess it’s just the Uchiha curse; you lose someone and have to go to someone else. It happened to me, to Obito —“ Konan stops him, and is REALLY surprised to learn that Itachi and Obito are distant cousins. “But anyway, I just want you to know I get it. If the day ever comes when you want to talk, I can be there for you.” She scoots over in the water and hugs him; she blushes when she realizes her towel has slipped, and for a brief few moments their bare chests are touching. “S-sorry about that,” she says, backing away and covering up. “Don’t worry about it,” he replies; but he’s blushing quite hard as well. The drive home is quiet, each feeling comfortably invigorated and relaxed. When they get to the front door, Konan leans up and kisses Itachi’s cheek, thanking him for a lovely day. He tells her that she made the day even lovelier. They go inside and all of the boys make it a point to go up to Konan and tell her how great she looks after her day of pampering, which she appreciates. She goes into the kitchen to start dinner, and once again finds Itachi there ahead of her. She smiles and ties on her apron, and the two create another delicious meal together.

#the akatsuki #a date with an angel #konan akatsuki #konan #first date #sasori #itachi uchiha #itakona #sasokona

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prismlibrary · 3 years

Text

Castle Crashing

Werewolf!Matenrou x Vampire!reader

So, let’s backtrack a bit, shall we?

A pack of three werewolves were walking in the woods, when one of them spotted a castle. Believing it to be the castle belonging to the vampires they were longtime rivals with, they made their way to it, readying for a fight.

Now let’s cut to you - the actual owner of the castle, a lonely vampire who had been confined there ever since vampire hunters took over your territory. It had been awhile since you had last properly fed, causing you to fall ill, and become weak.

And these two things combined with a misunderstanding of who this certain castle belonged to made for an interesting, interesting combination.

You jolt awake in your coffin as you hear the front doors to your castle burst open. What was going on? You just wanted to sleep, it’s not like you could do much else anyways. Then you hear muffled shouting, and your blood runs cold - had the hunters found you? You put on your robe and crawled out of your coffin, readying yourself the best you could for a fight. Then, you carefully began to make your way downstairs.

As you reached the hallway, you heard the voices or three men.

“Are you sure this is the right place? I don’t see anyone here..” spoke one of them, his voice laced with anxiety.

“Don’t worry so much Doppomine! I’m like.. 80% sure this is the Fling Posse Castle.” replied another, his voice much more upbeat. Wait - Fling Posse? Who the hell was that?

“Only 80%?! Hifumi, what if we broke into some random human’s castle?” You heard what sounded like a light bonk.

“Ow! Hey, I think 80% is a pretty good chance!” The man spoke, almost sounding as if he was pouting now.

As this all was going down, you had been getting closer and closer to the front staircase of your castle. You could hardly focus on what they were saying, being as scared as you were, but it sounded like this was possibly a misunderstanding? You hoped it was, anyhow.

You heard a “shhh” from a third voice, who then began to speak in a whisper.

“Please try to quiet down a little, you two. If this is truly the Fling Posse castle, it would do well for the element of surprise to be on our side.”

“I’m so, so sorry Jakurai! We’ll both be more quiet, won’t we Hifumi?”

“I can try! I just can’t wait to get in there and finally confront that old-fashioned dressing vampire and - oh.”

He stopped, his eyes now on you, for you had finally reached the staircase. You could now see your opponents - if you could even call them that - were three werewolves, not three vampire hunters. Nevertheless, you still readied for a fight, shifting into your best defensive stance.

“I don’t know what you want with me… but you won’t be taking my castle without a fight!” You said, although you hardly sounded convincing, with your voice trembling alongside your shaking form. Hell, why’d you have to get the shakes now?

The three werewolves looked on in shock. Clearly, they weren’t expecting this outcome. Finally, one of them, the tallest, and seemingly the one in charge, began to speak.

“Oh dear… are you alright?”

Huh? Was this random werewolf… worried about you?

“I’d like to ask that too, you don’t look well…”

“Me three! You look like you need a doctor.”

Scratch that. Three random werewolves were worried about you. Just what was going on?

“I’m fine…” you started, only to collapse to the floor seconds later. You heard footsteps immediately rush over to you, and found yourself secure in the leader’s arms moments later. He felt your forehead with the back of his hand.

“They seem to have a fever. Little vampire, could you tell me where your room is?”

“It’s over there.” you gesture down the hall weakly. Geez, you were in really bad shape.

And you also appeared to be going up, as you felt yourself leave the floor, secure in this mysterious werewolf’s arms. He swiftly took you to your room, where he then placed you in your coffin. Ah… comfy.

“May I ask how you got to this state?” He spoke, not out of judgement, but out of genuine concern.

“It was the vampire hunters… they took over my territory. I haven’t been able to hunt in a while, and so I haven’t fed.”

He frowned. He knew how the vampire hunters were, but to take over a lone vampire’s territory, and one who seemed to be causing no harm to humans no less? That’s a new low.

“Well, I have a proposal for you, little vampire, if you will hear me out.” There's that nickname again, although you don’t mind it, truthfully.

“Will you let myself and my pack nurse you back to health? If it helps, you can think of it as an apology, after all we did break into your castle.” He stopped, and waited for your response.

“You may, on one condition.”

He raised his eyebrows. “And what may that be?”

You giggled, “Will you tell me your name? And the other’s names too. I can’t just keep calling you ‘werewolf 1, 2, and 3’ after all.”

He appeared mildly shocked for a moment - had he really gone this entire time without an introduction? This expression was quickly replaced by a gentle smile however.

“Of course. My name is Jakurai Jinguji, the red-haired werewolf you saw was Doppo Kannonzaka, and the blond was Hifumi Izanami.” The werewolf - Jakurai, apparently, finished.

“Those are nice names…” you muttered, feeling your eyelids close. You felt a blanket be pulled over you, and a voice gently whispering “rest well.” as you drifted off to sleep.

What must have been several hours passed, for when you awoke, you awoke not to Jakurai, but to Hifumi and Doppo. They seemed to be assigned to watch over you while the aforementioned werewolf went to get food, or that was your guess, at least.

“Oh! Doppomine, look! They’re awake. Hey, how are you feeling?” Hifumi asked. He too, seemed genuinely worried about you.

“I’m fine, I think? Better than before, at least.” You replied, trying to sound as strong as possible.

“That’s good… we were really worried about you. You’ve been asleep for almost 14 hours now.” Now it was Doppo’s turn to speak. Wait, 14 hours?! That’s an extremely long nap.

You laughed. “While I appreciate the thought, I’ll have you know I’m one tough cookie! It’ll take more than a little fever to get me down!” You puffed out your chest.

Hifumi laughed as well. “Well, it’s good to see you are feeling a bit better! Oh, by the way - Jakurai went out to get you some food. He should be back soon, but in the meantime, Doppomine and I can tell you some stories!” He said, beaming at you.

“Stories? I don’t know if I have any interesting ones… but I’ll try my best.” Doppo replied, rather sheepishly.

“I’d love that!” You said, smiling back and clapping your hands together.

And so, the three of you took turns telling stories for what seemed like hours. They ended up telling you about Fling Posse, too, who were apparently a group of elite vampires Matenrou - which you had come to learn was the pack name for the three - was in a rivalry against. Truthfully, you thought they sounded funny, and hoped one day this rivalry would end so everyone could get along.

Soon, Jakurai returned, a tea set and dark red package in hand. He poured you a cup of the liquid, and handed it to you.

“Try to take it slow, it’s been awhile since you’ve eaten, and the last thing we would want is for you to make yourself sick.” He advised.

You gratefully took the cup, and downed the liquid way faster than you had meant to. You couldn’t help it - you were really hungry!

As you finished drinking, you looked at the faces that sat before you. They all seemed very relieved that you were beginning to heal, and looked back at you with smiling faces.

I think this healing process is going to be quite nice, you thought. Oh, if only you knew this was the beginning of so, so much more.

#letter delivered; writing #hypmic #hypnosis mic #hypmic x reader #hypnosis mic x reader #matenrou #jakurai jinguji #jakurai x reader #hifumi izanami #hifumi x reader #doppo kannonzaka #doppo x reader

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iwriteabouttomhiddles · 4 years

Text

What if

One shot / multichapter: request

(Requested by Anon)

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC, Henry Cavill x OFC (as an ex-boyfriend)

Words: 1920

Type: fluff, romance

Summary: Tom being slightly jealous and worried about his relationship with OFC.

A/N

Dunno why but my brain went straight to Henry Cavill as a hunk to include in this. Definitely has nothing to do with my crush on him. Nuh-uh.

Could write a part 2 if this is any good? Let me know!

(Check out my masterlist by clicking on this)

„I have waited for such a long time to say this…”, Henry stepped closer and carefully put his strong arm around my waist, his hand resting on my lower back.

I was looking up at him with a mildly confused expression. At the same time, his intense gaze created an aura of tension that almost made me shiver. He put his other arm around me as well, so our bodies were pressed together now. I could smell his cologne and feel the pulsating energy radiating off his body.

“I love you.”, he confessed and then moved even closer.

“I love you too.”, I whispered and pressed my lips on his, my hands travelling to the back of his neck and through his lush hair.

He kept me tight against him and made me lean into him while arching my back. Henry’s hands were on my lower back and holding me up, making me almost stand on my tiptoes because of the height difference between us. As the kissed ended, our foreheads pressed together, and I closed my eyes, waiting for the moment to end.

“Cut!” a shout was heard behind me, and I stepped back immediately to look at the director. “That was good, guys. We’ll take a short break.”

Henry cleared his throat and awkwardly nodded at me, silently asking if I’m doing okay. He looked at me sheepishly, trying to decide if I’m satisfied with the scene or not. I smiled briefly and then turned around to walk towards the refreshments table by the side. I didn’t want to look at the screen to see what they filmed for the scene. I wasn’t interested in how it turned out. I gave it my absolute best, and I hoped with all my heart that was enough. And I hoped nobody besides Henry and me noticed how differently we acted with each other than we did when we worked on the last film. The crew was mostly the same and we got along well, but nobody asked anything about my relationship with Henry. Thank God. There were rumours though - there always are, and people were starting to butt their noses into something that they had no right to, as per usual.

The first part of the film we finished more than a year ago, and that was a time when Henry and I still dated. The two-film contract commitment at that time didn’t faze me much, but now it certainly did. It wasn’t that I hated working on this project, it was that I hated working with my ex, even though the decision to end our relationship was mutual.

It seemed that Henry wasn’t any more content with the situation than I was, which made it a tad more bearable.

Today we finished unusually early, and I made sure to text Tom when exactly to come and get me. As I exited the building, I revelled in the fresh, night air that hit my face when I closed the doors behind me. I saw a familiar car waiting for me, the same ride that picked me up every day after long working hours, without fail. But, before I came up to the car on the other side of the street, I heard my name being called out.

I turned around to see none other than Henry. Who else could it be?

“Can we talk?”

“Is it something urgent? I would love to get home as soon as possible.”, I said as adamantly and politely I could, glancing at the car with Tom sitting inside.

A gut feeling told me Tom was intently looking at the scene before him and wildly interested at the specifics of the interaction between Henry and me. I could guess he was probably wishing to develop a skill of reading lips right about now.

“Someone waiting for you?” Henry motioned with his head at the car that I glanced at.

“As a matter of fact, yeah. Don’t want to keep him waiting.”, I said softly.

Henry nodded in understanding, his jaw clenching. “Sure.”

I sighed. “I’m sorry. We can talk. I’m just extremely tired right now.”

“I understand.”, Henry concluded. “I… I only wanted to say something. I’ll be quick.”

“I’m listening.”, I focused and stood tall while facing him completely, showing that he had my full attention.

“You do know that if you’re uncomfortable doing something, you can tell me, right?” Henry asked sincerely, almost whispering so no one would hear.

I smiled up at him and sighed. “That’s really sweet of you. Thank you.”

“I’m serious. Anything you don’t want to do…”

“It’s alright.”, I brushed it off, shaking my head. “It’s a job. I have to do it.”

As soon as the words flew out of my mouth, I realized how bad they sounded.

“I mean-”

“I’m that disgusting, huh?” Henry crossed his large arms on his even larger chest and grinned at me.

I shook my head, laughing slightly. “Sorry, Didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’ll leave you alone.”, he smirked. “Don’t want to keep the boyfriend waiting.”

I bit my lip, not saying anything for a few moments and just looking back at him. “I do enjoy working with you, Cavill. Despite everything. And thanks for checking up on me.”

Henry nodded. “Yes, of course.”

I smiled again. “Good work today, Cavill. See you tomorrow.”

Henry was smiling brightly now. “See you, darling.”

I turned around and made my way to the Jaguar with Tom in it. When I got in as well, I greeted Tom, who was sitting on the other side of the car, behind the wheel. But, instead of leaning over and kissing me as a way of saying hello, he remained in his seat.

My face fell. “Hello, Tom. Something wrong?”

“Not a thing.”, he frowned, turning on the car and shifting to first gear.

I huffed. “Yeah, I totally believe you.”

“Maybe I’m just a little annoyed that I had to wait for you to finish talking with your ex so we could leave.”

I buckled my seatbelt and Tom started driving, pulling away from the filming location as fast as he could. I rolled my eyes, feeling a headache coming.

“Henry was just worried about something, and I wanted to reassure him. I’m sorry you had to wait, but we didn’t take that long.”

“What was he worried about? About who are you leaving with?”

He glanced at me, and I held his gaze for a second before he turned his attention back on the road.

“Come on, Tom.”, I replied calmly.

“Come on, what?” he raised his voice slightly and then sighed. “I’m just…”

“Jealous?” I finished the sentence for him, which he didn’t appreciate that much.

“No.”

“There’s nothing going on. Like I’ve mentioned the last hundred times.”, I muttered that last bit under my breath, but I’m sure he could still hear me.

“Fine.”, he replied silently, not sounding so sure that everything was, in fact, fine.

I left it at that, simply because I didn’t know what else to say. I wanted to give him some time to calm down and also give myself some time to think of the right things to say to reassure him. I never imagined my work could put such a strain on my love life, but it did. And I had to learn to deal with it.

The rest of the ride to our shared flat remained silent. When we got in the flat, Tom made his way to the living room, and I made my way to the kitchen to grab something quick to eat. After taking a few bites of the leftovers from yesterday, I got an idea.

I grabbed a piece of paper and messily scribbled on it a ticket that was the main point of my plan. Then I made my way to the living room to give it to Tom, who was currently picking out a book to read from the large bookshelf. He left the book in its place after I handed him the paper.

“What is this?” his eyebrows were furrowed and he was confused, turning the papers over and looking if I also scribbled something on the other side.

“What does it say?”

“It says ‘movie premiere tickets’.”, Tom stared at me, growing frustrated. “What movie? Tickets for what premiere?”

“It’s symbolic. There are not actual printed tickets yet.”, I explained. “But, I want you to join me for the premiere when this movie is finished.”

“I…”, Tom sighed, staring down at the tickets.

He set them on the coffee table and sat down on the couch, elbows resting on his legs and eyes averted from me. “I just want some time to think. About everything.”

“And I want to share my accomplishments with you. I want everyone to see how happy you make me. And how we support each other, no matter what.”, I said and stood in front of him.

“I feel like that last part was directed solely at me.”, Tom huffed.

I shrugged chuckling. “Maybe.”

“You do know I support you.”, he said and gazed up at me. “Don’t you?”

I nodded. “I know. But, that support has to be there whether I’m working with my ex or a complete stranger.”

“It is.”, Tom said. “I’m just concerned at what this all means… For us.”

“Why would it change something?”

Tom leaned back on the couch, and I sat on the edge of the coffee table, so I was opposite him.

I set my hands on his knees because they were the closest and urged him to look at me. “I love you, Tom. Henry can’t change that. I doubt anyone or anything can.”

“I love you too.”, he confessed with teary eyes. “But, you loved him once, as well.”

“And yet I don’t anymore.”, I smiled. “You’re the only one for me, Tom.”

“What if…”, he started, but stopped himself abruptly.

“What?”

“Nothing.”, he shook his head. “Nothing, everything is okay. I trust you. I just need some time to process this.”

“What did you want to say?”

He shook his head again and smiled, showing that it’s not important, but I knew it was. I stood up and carefully settled on his lap, my legs resting on each of his sides.

I enveloped him with my arms and kissed him. “Tell me.”

“No.”, he was adamant, his hands now travelling up and down my waist, caressing my bare skin under my shirt.

I shifted in his lap, grinding against him and biting his earlobe in the process. He groaned in response and his fingers dug into my skin.

“Tell me.”, I insisted and he gave in after a little more convincing.

“What if you stop loving me?” he breathed out, and if we weren’t so close, I wouldn’t be able to hear him.

I pulled away slightly and palmed his cheeks with both of my hands, looking at his troubled eyes.

“Whose lap am I sitting on, huh?” I joked, but he only sniggered half-heartedly.

“It’s not just about Cavill…”, Tom explained. “What if you just stop loving me?”

I shook my head, chuckling. “Not possible.”

Tom only smiled and pulled me closer to him, in a tight hug. His arms held me pressed against him. I breathed in his scent and kissed his neck tenderly.

“You’re stuck with me.”, I whispered. “And you’re not getting rid of me, Tom. Ever.”

“Promise me.”

I smiled, kissing him tenderly. “I promise.”

#tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston request #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston x original female character #tom hiddleston fluff #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x y/n

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vincess-princess · 3 years

Text

ex malo bonum

Chapter 8.

Word count: 7091 Warnings: murder, blood, violence Author’s note: can’t believe we’re here, guys. A year and a half later, we’re here. At the end of this fic. I got so used to it during this time, I don’t even know how I’m gonna cope without it. But I do hope you have a good and satisfying reading :)

“Alright, alright,” Nikki raised his hands up in surrender. “Do it yourself, if you wanna. Don’t blame me when you fuck your hair up, though.”

Vince pulled off a hairband and shook his head, disheveling his hair. He liked it more framing his face in a loose way, but couldn’t handle constantly noticing the black that had already conquered more than a half of his hair length. Noticing it now, he shuddered - since he had last taken a look at it, it had added two more inches. It’d only been a week or so, with him trying to act as angelical as possible. Then why did it spread so fast?

“If I’m going to do it often, I need to learn how.”

“Fair,” Nikki shrugged. “Okay, now get your hair wet. See that thing looking like a telephone with holes in it?”

“I can recognize a shower head,” Vince rolled his eyes, holding his breath at the same time – would Nikki care? Would he get angry? After a second or two he exhaled quietly – his little trick went unnoticed. Or unpunished.

Vince reached for the shower head and turned on water. It was cold, but he didn’t want to wait for it to warm up. It trickled down his back and shoulders, leaving trails of goosebumps on his skin.

“Yeah, I gotta admit you’re making progress pretty fast,” Nikki nodded. Oh, yeah, Vince remembered, they had been carrying on a conversation. “Now, get the dye out of the package and mix it.”

“With what? Water?”

”No-no. See, you need my guidance.”

“With what?” Vince repeated, ignoring the last reply. He was going to do everything himself in this one. It was already too much that Nikki bought it for him. He couldn’t owe him even more.

“See this little bottle?” Nikki fished the bottle out of the package and handed it to Vince. Vince took it, careful not to touch Nikki’s fingers. “Pour the liquid from it into the cup and add dye from the tube. Then mix until it’s homogeneous.”

“Homo-what?”

“Homogeneous. I swear, you only think about one thing.”

“Hey, you said this word first!” Vince protested, and this time his stomach sank not so shamefully deeply, maybe a little, but it was something.

“Maybe so,” Nikki waved his hand. “Okay, did you make the dye? Yeah, you’re supposed to mix it. No, not with your fingers!”

Oh no, Vince’s stomach shrunk, he did it wrong. He didn’t know, but he still fucked up. Fucked up-

He looked up at Nikki’s face, searching frantically for signs of anger, or annoyance, or fury, or- anything, just anything negative. Anything that would justify Vince running out of the room and crawling under the bed in his bedroom, shaking and panting. He had become an expert of reading that face on that night. He should have seen something.

But there was nothing. Nikki’s eyebrows were slightly raised, and his mouth was a little bit open, with a smile starting to form on his lips. It was in its very initial stages, but Vince could see it. Nikki wasn’t far as good at reading Vince’s face as Vince was in reading his; he couldn’t see all the bugs of terror and panic crawling under Vince’s skin.

He probably though they were friends. Enjoying each other’s presence in a totally normal, friendly way.

Vince exhaled in a short, sharp movement of his chest and throat. “Why not?” he grinned, the grin fake but plausible, then especially slow put his finger in the cup and started mixing the dye. Nikki’s eyes went wide open, he made a disgruntled “Hey!”. Vince considered licking the finger to make Nikki even more exasperated, but that was probably too much for his already battered body – he was sure the components of this dye were far from safe. Vince’s scars have healed already, but he was still getting spikes of pain at every sudden movement, especially from walking and sitting. He eventually came to a conclusion that the pain was going to stay with him for life.

Maybe that was for the better.

“Mixed it?” Nikki leaned closer and checked the cup. “Hm. Probably should be enough. Now, where is your hairbrush?”

“I don’t have one,” Vince reminded. He hadn’t brushed his hair since the day he cut it. It hung in messy curls and knots around his face.

“Yeah, you don’t,” Nikki muttered. “We should definitely take you to the store and buy all the stuff humans use on their bodies. Not that it’s necessary but helps keep the body in a decent shape. And – attract a lot of chicks,” he winked. Vince had to suppress the urge to kick him in the smug face.

“I swear, you only think about one thing,” he uttered instead.

“Hey, that’s my phrase!” Nikki exclaimed indignantly, and satisfaction blossomed in Vince’s chest. He wanted Nikki to realize he couldn’t bug him and not expect anything in return.

“Okay, so I need a hairbrush,” Vince said before Nikki managed to come up with something else. “But I don’t have one. What, are we going to the store or something?”

“No, you’re not going anywhere looking like this,” Nikki waved at Vince, got up and left the room. For a second Vince really thought he was going to go to the store right there and then, and he wasn’t ready to wait for so long. Everything inside him itched and twisted to get rid of that beastly color on his hair tips. But then Nikki returned, a hairbrush in his hand. “Here, take mine.”

“Uh,” at first Vince reached out to take the hairbrush but Nikki’s words made him stop in his tracks. Realizing how stupid he must have been looking, with his hand hanging in the air, he quickly dropped it. The corner of Nikki’s mouth twitched, and Vince froze mid-inhale, but Nikki said nothing. “Uh… won’t the dye spoil it?”

“It probably will,” Nikki shrugged. His hand was still hanging in the air, holding out the hairbrush, and the atmosphere was quickly growing awkward. Why doesn’t he just lower his hand, Vince prayed silently. Why doesn’t…

“Thank you,” he mumbled and grabbed the hairbrush, again trying his best not to touch Nikki’s fingers in the process. The hairbrush’s wooden handle retained the warmth of Nikki’s hand. “Okay, okay,” he attempted to calm his quickly beating heart. They were living together, when will Nikki’s mere presence stop making him fucking fall to pieces? “We’ve got the hairbrush. What’s next?”

“Put the dye on your hair.” Nikki’s face was perfectly indifferent, but his eyes gleamed triumphantly, the same they had when Vince accepted the box of cheap hair dye fresh out of the store. Vince wanted to kick this expression out of him. There was nothing victorious in it – on the contrary, it was a collection of Vince’s defeats. “Use the brush to get every strand,” Nikki continued. “Your shell is blonde from birth, so you only need to dye the tips.”

Vince carefully, like he was holding something fragile, brushed the front strand of his hair and smeared the dye all over it.

“Are you sure this is gonna work?” he asked while evenly distributing the dye to the rest of his front strands. This white cream smelling of chemicals didn’t seem to be powerful enough to obliterate the all-consuming black.

Nikki shook his head. Vince couldn’t help but glare at him from under his wet hair. Was he going through all this for nothing, damn it? “But we can at least try,” Nikki added, but not very reassuringly.

“Yeah,” Vince’s shoulders sunk, but he kept applying dye to his hair. There was still hope, right? It could still work? Then he had to try it.

Finished with the front of his hair, he proceeded to brush the back and realized that dying it was going to be way harder than the front. But he was going to do it himself, even if the possibilities of fucking up were going to be sky-high. Vince reached for the cup to grab another portion of dye and realized he definitely needed to use less or he would run out of it quickly, or some part of his hair could just as well remain undyed. Fucking great. Of course, they could always go buy more, but he didn’t want to ask Nikki for that. He hadn’t asked him for the dye in the first place. But he accepted it, nobody forced him to, besides, maybe, the uneasiness in his stomach appearing at the sight of Nikki getting even mildly annoyed. So now he had to get through all this.

Still, there also was a possibility that it’d work out.

Nikki soon got tired of watching Vince dying strand after strand, slowly and carefully. “Call me when you’re done,” he ordered and left, and the atmosphere in the room immediately got less tense. Vince even sat down on the edge of the bathtub and began murmuring a song under his breath that got stuck in his head. And she’s watching him with those eyes, and she’s loving him with that body, I just know it… He’d heard about love, of course, a divine feeling when channeled towards Him and a dirty, filthy feeling when channeled towards other people, especially in an animalistic, sexual way. It was interesting also, how humans could fixate on one person so hard they could only think and dream about them. Maybe that song exaggerated it a little, after all.

Vince had heard a lot of songs during the week that passed. Having nothing else to do, he was glued to the record player in the main room, listening to a record after a record until he ran out of them. That was a tough moment for him, because he had to either just go through what he had again, of which he was already very tired, or ask Nikki to share his collection. Tommy helped – or, rather, fucked everything up but in a good way, - by dragging Vince into Nikki’s room so that Vince had to stand there with his ears red and listen to Tommy explaining Nikki the problem. Nikki did share, and his collection did have a lot of “bangers” – that was the word Tommy used once – in it. And halfway through the thick stack of records Vince had almost forgotten it was Nikki’s music. Almost.

Dying his hair was a slow and painstaking process, but Vince even enjoyed the thoroughness of it. Also, it was repetitive – take some dye, put it on a strand of hair, distribute evenly, repeat – and let him think his own thoughts but without getting too deep down, where his demons lurked. So Vince was even disappointed when the last strand was covered and added to the slimy bundle on his head. He looked into one of the pieces of the mirror he shattered – the biggest one was left until the mirror would be repaired, - and chuckled. He looked funny, with his hair sticky and put up in a sloppy bun. This way even the roots, which were still blond, looked darker. Maybe that was just the way the dye looked like while doing its job, Vince tried to calm himself down. Or maybe this cheap dye just couldn’t get through to the demonic black. Either way, he had to finish what he started.

He headed to the door, peered out and shouted: “Hey, I’m done! What’s next?”

Nikki stepped out of his room, cast a look at him and started laughing.

“What?” Vince raised an eyebrow. He thought he would never be able to hear Nikki’s laughter and not shudder again, but him laughing like this, open and sincere, relaxed something very strung out inside him.

“You look like a wet rat out of a sewer,” Nikki told him though laughter. Vince had no clue how rats out of sewers looked like, but, since Nikki meant it as an insult, he assumed they didn’t look very attractive. Good thing he didn’t care about Nikki’s opinion on his looks. Even more, every time he remembered Nikki call him pretty in that sleazy, lusty voice, he wanted to disfigure himself so that Nikki would back off at his mere presence. Not that Vince was actually going to do it, but a man – or a demon, rather – can dream.

He still didn’t really understand the concept of beauty; he hadn’t seen that many people to make his own judgements. The only description of himself came from Nikki – “pretty”, a single world that could mean anything in other contexts. Vince spent hours looking into the fragment of mirror, trying to single out beauty in his own features and realizing with disappointment it was too early for him to judge his own appearance according to human standards. But he also took his time to explore the vessel he was now bound to stay in it for the rest of his life. He didn’t have a chance to thoroughly study it before, apart from catching its reflection in shop windows and that one time in a club bathroom where he overdosed on heroin.

Once he did pay attention, he noticed a lot of interesting things: the way the left eye was a little bit lazy, an old burn on his elbow, the faded lines of tan on his hips, the dry, cracked skin on his knuckles, a mole on his inner thigh. His own markings, what made his vessel- no, his body different from others.

He barely noticed any people during his stay on Earth, blinded by grief, so he could only compare himself to Nikki, Tommy and Mick. Nikki, of course, claimed to be gorgeous, with all those attracting-chicks comments of his, but his features were completely different from Vince’s – boyish yet delicate, absolutely not matching his tall, muscular body. How was it possible that Vince and Nikki, looking so different from each other, were both considered good-looking? Tommy was just a little bit taller than Nikki, but had a slimmer frame and more sophisticated, chiseled-out features. He was, as Nikki confided in Vince, also “drop-dead gorgeous.” Yet another inconsistency. Tommy’s vessel was the youngest of the three of them and still bore traces of teenage clumsiness. It matched well with his light-hearted, careless, a little bit immature character.

Mick was way older than the three of them combined, but his exact age was hard to define. It was possible even he didn’t remember it – years start to fly by faster the older you get. His shell, though, was middle-aged, as wrinkles gathered in the corners of his eyes when he smiled, and visible lines traced across his forehead. Mick’s frame was frail, he was even shorter than Vince, and his shoulders were constantly slumped – Tommy revealed to Vince in a dramatic whisper that there was some illness going on. But the grace with which Mick walked, the precision of every his movement couldn’t not convince Vince that the end of his days was still so far in the foreseeable and even unforeseeable future that the three of them, being lower-caste demons, couldn’t even dream of reaching it.

“Hey,” Nikki interrupted Vince’s train of thought, waving his hand in front of Vince’s face. Vince snapped out of his thoughts so quickly he blinked in confusion – too absorbed in his thoughts, he forgot Nikki was talking to him. “Earth to Vince.”

“Yeah?”

“You done with the dye? Great. Now just wait. Half an hour should do. And don’t get the dye everywhere!”

“Maybe that would motivate you to clean the house,” Vince muttered, turning around, and he could say he didn’t want Nikki to hear it, but why would he lie? It was supposed to be friendly, and Vince did try to play his part well. The fact that he tensed up so much and bit his lip anxiously, waiting for Nikki’s answer with dread building up behind his ribs, was of little importance.

“Whatcha say?” Nikki squinted at him, but his mild indignation was obviously and purposefully feigned. So Vince flashed him his widest smile, so wide it balanced on the edge of creepy, and went back to the bathroom. He could turn on hot water and sit in the bath for some time, maybe wash himself again. A feeling of something sticky and warm slowly seeping down his legs and random spikes of pain in his lower part of the body returned every day, and only a good bath or a shower helped get rid of the feeling and soothe the pain for a while.

Vince returned to the bathroom, checked that the door was locked twice, turned on water and got rid of his clothes – same Tommy’s shirt, same Mick’s pants, already slightly stinky. The hot, almost burning water began to fill the tube, and when Vince undressed and stepped carefully into the bath to check the temperature, it already covered his ankle. Whatever, it could fill up perfectly well with Vince already inside, so he submerged himself into the bath, lay down into the thin layer of water and sighed with pleasure. The water slowly climbed up a few inches and the cool air of the bathroom was creating nice contrast on the skin of his legs. Vince loved contrasts: they let him explore two different sides of an often the same thing. But were there just the extremes, or there was something in between, he asked himself, and the answer came after reading a lot of books from Mick’s personal library - the whole linear representation of “good” and “bad”, which he was taught in Heaven, was actually a spectrum. Contrasts were still necessary, by the way - he needed to be able to see the extremes but not be lured into them.

Vince dipped his hands in water and splashed it onto the bare skin of his legs. Cold immediately replaced by heat, then cold again once the water flowed down, leaving only a couple of droplets on his skin. Vince did it again, and again, and again, relishing in the sensation. Sensations – even as simple as this one - were new and exciting. Some of them were pleasant, and they made life worth living; some of them – not so much, and the pleasant moments became even more delightful after that. In Heaven it would take him an entire year to feel the enormous variety of feelings and sensations he could feel here in a single day.

Heaven. Vince bit his lip and leaned onto the side of the tube, careful not to rest his head on it. He didn’t miss it, he kept telling himself and everyone else around him. What was there to miss? Endless service just for the sake of it, with no promotion, no reward, commanded by someone Vince, His own child, hadn’t seen once in his long, very long life? With no explanations and not a single answer to the questions a lot of angels, including himself, undoubtedly had? What was there to miss, again?

Still, Vince kept waking up in the middle of the night seemingly for no reason, the sense of a tremendous loss fresh and poignant in his heart. When he asked Tommy about it, Tommy denied it pointblank. And of course, he did, Vince was one hundred percent sure he was told to behave as demonically as possible so as not to lure Vince back to God’s side. But Vince could see it in the depth of his eyes, in the very feeble tension in his voice, that it was there, that it still haunted him sometimes. One who knew this incredible sorrow could always recognize it in another.

Tommy was here, on Earth, for little less than half a century. Very young for a demon, the equivalent of a human toddler. What he and Nikki had found in common remained a mystery for Vince, but the evidence was there: they were thick as thieves, always hanging out together, throwing parties and getting in trouble. it was Tommy who was getting all the trouble though, Nikki was a mastermind behind all of it. He kept insisting he was “too old for that” to actually participate. How old Nikki was exactly remained unknown, but he was definitely much, much older than Tommy.

And because he had spent so much time in this cruel, animalistic worlds, Nikki’s angelic features faded. His sorrow for Heaven had long ago turned into bitterness, and bitterness then - into hatred, the same hatred he poured out onto Vince. You see, it’s not so much about you personally, as about you being an angel rang in his head. Vince squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his hands onto his temples, massaging them. Slowly, slowly Nikki’s grinning face from that night faded in his mind.

Though Vince was not exactly fond of Heaven already, he couldn’t imagine how much time would have to pass for him to start actually, sincerely hating it. It was his home, after all; it disowned him, threw him out into this cruel human world, but it remained his home, the place where he lived and served. His former home, he corrected himself hastily. Now his home was this place, this small house in the middle of Los Angeles (how ironic), this room with a bed soaked with his blood. They changed the sheets, but the mattress was still the same, and Vince hadn’t slept on it once, preferring the awfully uncomfortable leather couch in the living room. He didn’t particularly like this home he was staying in, after all that happened to him under its roof, but he had nowhere to go. After Nikki and Tommy told him about angel hunters he became even less eager to leave. The longer he stayed inside, the more time passed, the less the possibility that they would come back for you and try to kill you, Nikki told him. The transformation will have finished and you will be much stronger by then.

When this moment would come, Nikki didn’t specify; Vince just wanted it to arrive as quickly as possible.

The water had already reached Vince’s ribs, so he turned the tap off. He splashed the water onto his bare chest and straightened his legs, which were just long enough to reach the other end of the bathtub. The steam rising from the water covered the walls of the bathroom with tiny drops of water. Vince traced his finger down the wall, gathering the drops on his fingertip.

One of the strands of his hair broke free from the mess on his head and slid down his back. Vince tucked it back into the bundle, his fingers smeared in the dye. It was of a dirty white color. Vince washed it off in the water of the tube. Then it occurred to him that he probably had a trace of dye on his back from the loose strand, so he plunged into water so that only his head was above it, hoping the stain would wash off.

The abrupt knock on the door startled him, and he almost dipped his head into the water as well.

“Vince!” Tommy shouted from the outside. “Get out, I gotta pee!”

Vince sighed. As long as Tommy was around, he wouldn’t get any peace in this house.

“I can’t! I’m in the bath!” he shouted back.

“I don’t give a shit!” he heard from behind the door. “Open the door, asshole!”

Vince rolled his eyes. He could, of course, ignore him, but Tommy would totally find a way to take revenge on him for that. It would probably be better if he just let him in.

“Okay,” Vince said, getting out of the bath. He didn’t bother to wipe the water off or cover himself - Tommy had seen all of that anyway - and left a trail of puddles behind him. If Tommy slipped on them, that’d be his own personal problem.

“What’s up with your hair?” Tommy said, casting an appraising look all over Vince’s naked body and smirking. Vince didn’t like the smirk, but Tommy didn’t do anything else besides that and headed straight to the toilet. While he was unzipping his leather pants, Vince got back into the bath. The water had already lost a lot of warmth, but he didn’t turn on hot water again, though he wanted to. But it was time to get out - half an hour had probably already passed, and Vince wanted to see the result.

“Dying It,” Vince shrugged. “Nikki said I gotta wait half an hour, so…”

“What color?” Tommy flushed the toilet and zipped his pants back up.

“Blonde.”

Tommy cast him a long look over his shoulder. “You can’t escape your demonhood like that, y’know.”

“I’m not,” Vince murmured, staring at the water rather than at Tommy. “I just look better with blonde hair.”

“Well, that is true,” Tommy nodded with a stupid grin, his seriousness gone as fast as it had surfaced. “I have yet to see a guy rocking blonde hair the way your vessel does it.”

“Thanks… I guess,” Vince leaned forward and pulled out the bath plug. “You done? Get outta here.”

“Okay, okay, boss,” Tommy laughed but did get out… leaving the door wide open.

“You little shit!” Vince shouted into his back. Tommy laughed and sped up, hiding behind Nikki’s bedroom door.

Goosebumps went down Vince’s chest when he got out of the bath again to close the door. The comparatively cold air entered through the open door and made Vince shiver. Closing the door didn’t help much - it was already much cooler in the bathroom – but at least he was no longer on a display of everyone passing the corridor.

Vince sighed and reached for the towel. He didn’t know whether it was Tommy’s or Nikki’s, but did hope they would eventually wipe their faces with it.

After the body came the turn of his hair. Vince washed it thoroughly, making sure all dye was gone. His hair did look a little lighter, but not light enough, and Vince’s stomach sank. He had to remind himself that wet hair always looked darker than dry.

“Done?” Nikki asked when Vince peered into his room, with wet chunks of hair around his face being in dire need of brushing. Nikki and Tommy were drinking, beer bottles in the hands of each.

“Wanna a drink?” one of them pulled a beer out of the package and threw the bottle to Vince. A week or so ago Vince wouldn’t be able to catch it, but his reflexes improved since then.

“No, thanks,” Vince threw the bottle back, aiming at Nikki’s head. Nikki caught it without even looking at it. “Now what?”

“Just wait for it to dry,” Nikki said. “Wait, I have a hairdryer somewhere.” He got up and began rummaging in his closet. Something long and pink fell out, and Nikki hurriedly shoved it back into the closet. Tommy burst into laughter. Vince watched him in confusion. “Here. Just plug it in, it’ll start working. You can change the power with that slide.”

“Okay, got it,” Vince accepted the offering and retreated into his room. The hairdryer turned out to be incredibly loud, but the wave of hot air it was sending forth felt nice against his face.

As he finished, Vince put down the hairdryer and pulled out Nikki’s hairbrush. His hair was still slightly wet, but his patience had run out. He brushed his hair quickly and hurried to the mirror. What if it didn’t work, what if it-

It did, and surprisingly well. Now it was almost impossible to tell what his hair color had been. Vince was blonde again, exactly like he had been when he had just fallen. No trace of that beastly black on his hair! And if it grew more, the dye would hide it!

Vince grabbed a fistful of his hair and brought it up to his eyes. Maybe it wasn’t that platinum blonde his vessel had, it had warmer undertones, almost golden. But it wasn’t black, and that was enough for him. He didn’t really care about good looks of his vessel, as he didn’t even know how good looks were supposed to, well, look. He hated to admit that Tommy was right, but he was: it was all about hiding his demonhood, like one would hide a crazy relative in a tower so they would never be seen again.

So what? What was wrong about it? It harmed no one but Vince himself, so he was going to continue. He would dye his hair again and again, install a lock after a lock on the door of this tower. Nikki warned him that constant use of hair dye would fuck his hair up, but Vince preferred not to think about that now.

Someone rang the doorbell. Quickly, impatiently, pressing on it way more often than necessary. Someone in a hurry. Weird, they weren’t expecting anyone, and Mick had his own keys. Tommy shouted “Coming!” from the other room, and Vince almost stepped forward to stop him, but then braced himself. Some stupid friend of Tommy to go pick up on the girls, surely, or a junkie coming for Nikki’s heroin. Something mundane.

He heard the lock click. Tommy asked something, probably “who the fuck are you,” because the voices at the door were unfamiliar. Vince couldn’t hear Tommy well, but he sounded more worried with every second. Vince put down the hairbrush, tensing up.

Then Tommy shouted. His shout was abruptly cut off with a shot. Regular weapons could do nothing against a demon, just irritate him more. If this one worked, it wasn’t a regular weapon.

Vince’s fingers weakened, the brush fell out of his hand and onto the floor. The noise it made was exceptionally loud in a post-shot silence.

The demon hunters had come.

Vince sprang onto his feet, his heart beating so fast it as though wanted to get out of his chest. Did they kill Tommy? Were they already in the house? And where, god damn, was Nikki?

That very moment two shots were fired in the corridor, and then two unfamiliar voices began to scream, right behind the thin door of Vince’s bedroom. Seconds later their screaming sounded more like gurgling, as they probably were choking on their own intestines. Nikki could be quite inventive in those matters. Still, there were way more than two of them. And they had their magical anti-demon bullets.

A drop of sweat slid down Vince’s spine. He wasn’t a coward, and he was always ready to fight, but he had just begun living his life here, enjoying it, in a sense. How fucking unfair it was of the demon hunters to come right now to take it all away from him. So fucking unfair.

Vince darted to the dresser in his room, pulled out the bottom drawer and upended it above the bed. Not much there, Vince didn’t have time or desire to hoard things, still confused by the concept of private property. But the thing he was looking for, his only actual possession, was there, hid under the false bottom. Tommy persuaded Mick to give it back to Vince, vouching for his loyalty.

“He can’t even do what you ask him to do,” Mick said to Tommy then. Vince, who was eavesdropping behind the door, bit his lip anxiously. “I mean, good for him for going against the authority, that’s what I put a blade in the cupboard for.” Vince automatically reached to touch the scars, jerking his hand back halfway as Mick’s words dawned on him. Oh, so it was Mick. Oh, how smart. “But he can’t be trusted with weapons yet.”

“But the hunters are out for us,” Tommy said then, almost desperate. He was the closest to Mick out of the three of them – somehow, the youngest and the oldest managed to find something in common. But even he couldn’t cross some lines. “He needs to protect himself”.

“Then what the hell are you here for?” Mick said tiredly, but there were no stern notes in his voice, no prohibiting undertones. Tommy also recognized that and beamed so brightly Mick was utterly and completely defeated. Vince heard the sound of a drawer opening, and the next second Mick opened the door and looked down on Vince sitting on the floor right behind it. “Next time you want something, just ask for it yourself, okay?”

The double bottom fell out, revealing the holy blade. Vince picked it up carefully, trying not to touch the steel. It started to warm up, reacting to the demonic presence. His demonic pre- fuck, Vince stopped himself, there was no time for this brooding now.

Vince shoved it into the pocket of his jeans, hoping it wouldn’t burn a hole in them. Mick promised to rip his heart out if something happened to his jeans. Well, figuratively, Vince hoped, though he was absolutely sure Mick could actually do it.

He flinched at three gunshots fired in the other room, accompanied with shouts. Something heavy rattled across the floor. The thin wall shook under someone’s full weight thrown into it. Vince just hoped it wasn’t Nikki’s body. He tried not to think about Tommy.

He should go and help Nikki. Yes, he had only a “toothpick” and they had guns; but here or there, he would die anyway, and he’d rather do it in the middle of a fight. He absolutely should. Should he?..

Yes, he cut himself off and dashed to the door.

And almost collapsed into it, as it opened right in front of his face.

Vince froze. The hunter right in front of him did the same. It lasted barely seconds, but for Vince it felt like hours. Hours of just standing there and watching each other. Blue eyes, freckles on the nose, ragingly ginger long hair with darkened tips. And a rifle pointed right at Vince’s stomach.

Vince stepped back. Just a little.

Then he was pushed in the chest so strongly he lost balance and fell onto the bed. The hunter straddled him, making his hips jerk with pain at the movement, and his rifle was pointing right at Vince’s forehead now. It was so close Vince could feel the warmth of the barrel.

This hunter has already killed someone.

They looked at each other, silent. The hunter was examining his face so thoroughly as though he tried to see past Vince’s expression. Then he released the rifle with one hand and ran his fingers through Vince’s still slightly wet hair.

“It should be black,” the hunter murmured in confusion. “Enough time has passed, it should be black! You should be a full-scale demon now. Why isn’t it black?!”

Vince exhaled slowly. That was his chance.

“It never darkened,” he murmured. Congratulations on your first lie, demon. The hunter was so fixated on Vince’s face he didn’t notice his hand moving oh so slowly towards the back pocket of his jeans.

“Show me your nails,” the hunter ordered. Vince stretched out his left hand, hoping desperately that the blood under his nails, the blood he couldn’t wash out hard as he tried, wouldn’t make them look sharper.

The ginger grabbed it, looked it over, even smelled it. But, judging by his face, found nothing suspicious “They should be longer, sharper,” he whispered. His own nails were pointy and long, just like Nikki’s or Tommy’s. Vince suppressed the desire to tear his hand away from this grip.

But then – the hunter hit Vince on the head with the rifle handle, so strong the world lost its color for a moment. There was only black and white, and white was so all-encompassing Vince squeezed his eyes shut.

Vince knew why the hunter did it – it was his last check. Demons’ eyes darkened at a very strong emotion or feeling, revealing their true selves in the toughest moments. Nikki’s black eyes after he’d been stabbed, Vince’s own blackness seeping through his eyelids when he was beating up Nikki – all of that happened to both of them at a very emotional moment.

But pain could no longer elicit emotions from Vince. He had so much pain over the last couple of weeks it became inseparable from his entire being. It was almost mundane now, an every-day little inconvenience.

The hunter stared at his perfectly light, hazel eyes, and his grip on the rifle weakened.

“You’re an angel,” he whispered so quietly Vince had to strain his hearing. “A real goddamn angel.”

Vince slowly, very slowly began moving his right arm down.

“How the hell could these stupid demons mistake a real angel for a fallen one?” the redhead hissed. “They never were smart, but this… it’s beyond comprehensible. Why are you still here, with these despicable creatures? Did they imprison you?”

Maybe because you wanted to shoot my brains out, Vince wanted to say but didn’t.

“Yes,” he said instead. “But all is in His hands. We cannot change our fates, and if mine is here, with this demons, I will be here for as long as He tells me to.”

The redhead kept hovering over Vince, but he put away the rifle – unfortunately, not far enough to not be able to reach it in a second. His hungry look wandered over Vince’s body. Hunger as not lust, but the crave of remains of angelic grace, a trace of angelic beauty.

The hunter hovered over him again and grasped his shoulders – not with an intention to hurt, more like a drowning man clings to a lifebuoy. “Do you hear Him? Do you hear Him still?” he asked, his voice shaking.

A slow nod and an honest look into the eyes of a hunter – and he released him and sat on the bed, his back turned to Vince. Vince raised his hips slightly to fish out the blade from his back pocket. He squeezed it in his hand and got up as well, settling near the hunter on the bed.

“What does he say?” the redhead asked. “I haven’t heard from Him for so long. I-“ his voice dropped, - “I miss Him.”

“Me too,” Vince said gently. “But He always cares about all His children. Even those who chose the wrong path. Especially those.”

“I thought he left me,” the hunter lowered his head. “I though he left me alone, after I fell. To this cruel, evil and sin-infested world. World full of demons. How could one defeat all those demons? Are they free to roam the Earth for or against his wish? I killed many demons, but with every one I kill, two more appears. I’m tired, angel. I want back. I want back so much,” his voice quivered, and Vince could even feel a spark of sympathy for him. But only a spark. His hand gripped the handle of the blade.

“What is your name, brother?” Vince asked.

The ginger frowned. “I don’t remember. Nobody remembers, don’t you know that?”

“I do. I mean, what is the name that you picked for yourself? You can’t go nameless in this world full of identical people. You need your own label.”

“I…” the hunter swallowed loudly. “I’m Axl. But why?”

Vince smiled his most kind and compassionate smile. “So that He knows who to reward there, in Heaven. You’ve killed so many demons, you deserve it.”

“What?” Axl’s face lit up. “You can tell Him about me? You can ask him to take me back?”

“It’s even better,” Vince put his hand on Axl’s slumped shoulder. “I’ve been waiting for you here, and these demons were your trials. You passed them successfully.” He squeezed Axl’s shoulder maybe a little too tightly. Axl’s breath accelerated at these words, his cheeks reddening with anticipation.

“You’re going to meet him,” Vince said finally. Then he reached to embrace Axl, the blade in his hand slightly vibrating. Axl trustfully leaned into his open arms. Oh, how damaged he was, how naïve. “You’re going to meet Him very soon, Axl,” he whispered and drove the blade up to the handle into Axl’s back.

Axl flinched, for a second not understanding what just happened. Then he did and looked up at Vince in such shock and disbelief that shame waved over Vince – but just for a second. Then Axl exhaled sharply, still looking at Vince, and started to fall down. Vince carefully lay him down across the bed, pulling the blade out in the process.

“I’m sorry, Axl,” he said quietly. “Go, meet Him. For me.”

***

“There’s blood on your hands,” Tommy noticed immediately once he appeared in the doorway. “Are you hurt?”

“No. His.” Vince nodded at the lifeless body on the bed, soaking sheets with blood once again. His ginger hair spread in a circle around his head looked like a halo. “And you should worry about yourself instead,” he added sternly. Deep bleeding gash – he could even see bone through it - across Tommy’s temple where the bullet grazed him was more urgent to fix.

“Ah, this?” Tommy dipped his fingers in his own blood and licked it off them. “It doesn’t even hurt. It wasn’t a silver bullet. I just pretended it was, so that they would leave me and go for Nikki. And how did you manage to take him out with that toothpick of yours?” he nodded at the blade still in Vince’s hand. The weapon didn’t heat up anymore, only vibrated slightly – it was no longer hungry. For a while.

“I think he didn’t complete his transformation,” Vince said, wiping the blood off the blade on his own shirt. “But why does it the fuck matter?”

“It does,” Nikki’s voice sounded from the corridor. Soon he was in, limping and holding onto his side, his face covered in blood – Vince sincerely hoped it wasn’t his own. But if he could walk and talk, he was probably going to be alright. “The first murder – it seals the demonhood in you. No coming back anymore.”

“My demonhood was sealed long ago then,” Vince murmured more to himself than to the demons, but Nikki heard him.

“What?” Nikki leaned forward, stepped on the hurt foot, yelped and would definitely fall down if Tommy didn’t catch him. But he didn’t break eye contact with Vince even while falling. “You say this- this is not you first-“

“What do you think I fell for?”

#motley crue #motley crue fanfiction #vince neil #vince neil fanfiction #tommy lee #mick mar #nikki six #axl rose #motley crue slash fanfiction #fallen angel!au #ex malo bonum #i had to rewrite this chapter from scratch #it was like 2k at the beginning and incredibly shallow #i hope these additional 5k words improved it #you are free to scream curse and cry at me i know i deserve it :)

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isoldmysoultokpop · 3 years

Text

{ATEEZ Yunho FF} Love Yourself (pt 3)

~Rating: Teen~ ~Yunho x fem.reader~ ~This is fictional~

Trigger warnings: Suicidal themes, self hate, and anything else that might be related

(Go stream Fireworks xD)

P.S. Sorry for grammatical errors/spelling mistakes ^^;

(I see why you guys simp for Yunho. Joong’s actually my bias, and San was my bias wrecker, but ever since I had a dream of me dating Yunho, he’s just been looking so fine-)

You groan as you slowly wake up. Early morning sunlight was shining into the living room.

...Living room?

You process where you are.

“Oh, you’re awake?”

You glance up. You were still leaning against Yunho, but you had a blanket over you now.

Yunho’s dark brown eyes had a curious gleam to them. He had his phone in his left hand.

“I-....” you blink the sleep away. Realization finally dawns upon you. You pull away from Yunho quickly, but since you weren’t fully awake, you become dizzy.

“Ahh, easy, Y/N,” Yunho said while holding your arms to steady you.

You look out the window and the sunlight. “What time is it?” you demand.

Yunho glances at his phone. “Almost 7:30am; why?”

You freeze. It was almost 8am. Your parents always came into your room by 8 to make sure you were awake. If they find you gone, who knows what’ll happen when you get home later?

“I... I need to go now,” you mutter as you stand up. You stagger a little bit, but Yunho stabilizes you again.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I need to get home; my parents are going to find out I’m gone soon. They’re going to kill me when I get home,” you said in an obvious panic.

Yunho curses under his breath, which takes you by surprise. “Give me five minutes, and I can drive you to your place,” he said.

“Okay, but hurry it up, please,” you said impatiently.

He nods before dashing up the stairs that you hadn’t realized were there until now. You chew on your bottom lip while you start to pace around the living room.

Footsteps on the stairs makes you look up. You were expecting to see Yunho but a mop of pink hair catches you eye. San had noticed you too.

“Oh, Y/N? You’re still here?” he said, his voice deep and weary. He obviously just woke up.

“Yeah, but Yunho will be taking me home soon,” you reply quickly.

San yawns. “What’s the rush?”

You didn’t reply. He gave you an inquisitive look, but he didn’t pry.

Yunho rushed down the stairs, almost barreling into San. “Sorry, San!” Yunho yelled over his shoulder as he grabbed car keys off of a table.

He gestured for you to follow him out the door, so you run over there and slip on your shoes. You give San a quick wave before leaving the house. Yunho unlocks his car, and you sit in shotgun.

“You’re going to have to give me directions or your address,” he said as you both buckled up.

After a bit of figuring out where you were, you managed to guide Yunho to your home. You had him park a bit away from the house so your parents wouldn’t suspect anything if they happened to look out the window. You thank Yunho and hurriedly make your way back to your window. You slip inside as quietly as possible. You glance at your clock.

7:54am.

You breathe a sigh of relief. You change into todays clothes, and right on cue, your parents knock on the door.

“I’m awake,” you yell.

The door opens regardless. Your mom looks inside. “What time did you get home last night?”

You curse internally. “Late,” you reply vaguely.

Your mom raises an eyebrow. “You weren’t home all day, and we contacted your friends. You weren’t with them, so where were you?”

You chew the inside of your cheek.

“I know you weren’t at work either,” she said.

You sigh. “Is it wrong of me to go out by myself?”

Your mom huffs. “It is when you don’t tell us,” she said.

“I’m an adult, mom,” you reply flatly.

“Then act like one,” she snaps. “If you’re going somewhere, you have to tell us.”

You bite on your lip to prevent yourself from rolling your eyes.

“Don’t do that again,” is all your mom says before leaving.

Groaning, you grab your phone and text Yunho.

You: Yunho T-T

Yunho: Are you okay??

You: I don’t know

Yunho: What happened?

You: My mom scolded me for not telling her or dad where I went

Yunho: But you’re an adult?

You: That’s what I said!!

Yunho: Did you tell her about me and the others?

You: No, and I won’t ever

Yunho: Then if you’re supposed to tell them where you’re going, how are you gonna hang with us? TT

You: I’ll just sneak out at night

Yunho: At night??

You: The day is too suspicious. It’d be better if they’re asleep

Yunho: We all need sleep tho

You: Uuugh

Yunho: Oh i know!

You: ?

Yunho: We use a dance studio a lot; how about you say you’re taking lessons?

You: They’d never support me taking dance lessons

Yunho: Hmm, then use a cover

You: Lie to them?

Yunho: Don’t word it so bluntly ^^;

You: I mean, that’s what it is.

Yunho: ^^;

You: I’ll do it

Yunho: Really??

You: Yeah, why not? I’ll just tell them I’m taking etiquette lessons or smth

Yunho: Alright! Can we meet up tomorrow then??

You: So soon

Yunho: Sorry T-T

You: Nah, it’s fine. I got time tomorrow, so I’ll see you then

Yunho: Oh! Does early afternoon work?

You: Yeah, it should. I’ll show up at your place around 2?

Yunho: That works, except how about I pick you up?

You: Yes, please TT

Yunho: Haha okay

You smile. Tomorrow should be fun.

The rest of your day was uneventful. Just some more hate from your parents and “friends”, but you managed to keep yourself going by thinking about Yunho and the boys. You got to see them tomorrow, and that made you feel better.

You finally made it to night, and you were getting comfy for a good nights rest. Your phone chimed. Yunho had sent you a “See you tomorrow! Good night :)” text. You smiled and said “good night” back before finally falling asleep.

You woke up late, so you just got ready for your day with ATEEZ. You decided to wear a black, short sleeve crop top and some leggings. You headed down the stairs and made your way to the front door before yelling out loud enough for your parents to hear.

“I’m heading out, I don’t know when I’ll be back!”

Your mom and dad come out from the living room.

“Where are you going?” you dad asked in suspicion.

“Do I really have to tell you?” I ask, trying to feign innocence.

“Yes,” your mom said.

You sigh. “Well, I wanted it to be a surprise for you guys, but I’ve been taking etiquette lessons in secret.”

Your parents’ eyes widen. “Really?” your mom asked.

You nod. “Yeah, I was hoping to do something right, so I scheduled some lessons with a private tutor.”

Your mom raises an eyebrow. “Can we have the contact information for this person?”

You bite your lip. You weren’t prepared for this. Apologizing internally, you give Yunho’s number to your parents. Your dad nods and signals that you’re free to leave.

“Bye,” you said hurriedly and left the house. You wanted to run, but you couldn’t or else you’d raise suspicion. So you just sped walked.

You finally reach Yunho’s car and open the shotgun door.

“Eager much?” Yunho teased.

You quickly shake your head. “You haven’t been called yet, have you?”

“Mm, no?”

You breathe a sigh of relief. “I told my parents that I was taking etiquette lessons from a private tutor. They wanted this ‘tutors’ number... so I kind of gave them your number...”

Yunho gapes at you. “What??”

“I’m sorry!! It was the only thing I could think of right away,” you apologized, not able to make eye contact with him.

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I guess I can pretend to be your tutor. Will they be mad that I’m a guy?”

You chew on your bottom lip. “I hope not,” you mutter.

Yunho shrugs. “For now, let’s head to the house,” he said while driving back out into the street.

The car ride was quiet. You reached their house soon enough, but it was a mildly awkward car ride.

You get out of the car and head up to the front door. Yunho’s close behind you and he opens the door.

San greets you guys right away.

“Hi, Y/N!!” he said cheerfully.

“Hey, San,” you said with a smile.

You noticed most of them were ready to head out. You raise an eyebrow. “Are we going somewhere?”

Yunho chuckles. “Well, I didn’t lie when I said we frequent a dance studio. We’ll be heading there today,” he explained.

Your eyes lit up. Soon enough, you were at a dance studio. They apparently rented a room for half a day quite often.

Once in the room, all of the boys drop their bags and water bottles next to the wall. You sit down next to their stuff.

“Y/N, won’t you join us?” San asked you.

You shake your head. “No, I don’t know how to dance,” you said sadly.

Wooyoung pipes up. “We could teach you,” he offers.

“Or Yunho could. He’s one of the best dancers out of all of us,” Seonghwa said with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

At the mention of Yunho, his phone starts ringing.

He looks at you and shows you his phone. Sure enough, the caller I.D. is your moms’ number. “It’s my mom,” you said.

He sighs before telling the others to remain quiet. He picks up the call. “Yes?”

You couldn’t hear your mom properly. Just some noise.

Yunho continues to stare you as your mom talks. “Yeah, Y/N’s with me,” he said.

Some more muffled noise.

“We’ve only just started our lessons a few days ago; I can’t say how quickly she’ll understand all of this etiquette,” he said.

You pout your lips.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but can we get back to our lesson? There’s much to teach.”

He rolls his eyes before saying his goodbyes and hanging up.

“She’s nice,” he said sarcastically.

You laugh at that. The others look between you and Yunho.

“What was that about?” Hongjoong inquired.

“WELL,” Yunho starts. You groan and hide your face behind your hands as you fall flat on your back in embarrassment. “Y/N thought it’d be a great idea if she gave my number to her parents and told them that I was her etiquette teacher.”

“I said I’m sorry,” you muttered behind your hands.

Yunho gives you a mischievous smirk. “So how about I actually teach you something?”

“Like what?”

“Dancing,” Yunho suggests.

You perk up. “I’m actually interested in learning how to dance,” you say quietly.

All of the boys give each other excited looks.

Yunho smiles broadly. “Alright, then! We have to stretch first,” he said as he made his way towards you.

He sat down next to you. “Here, copy me,” he said as he spread his legs out a bit and leaned forward with his arms in front of him.

You tried, but you couldn’t get far down.

“I’ll help,” Yunho said. The other boys continued to stretch, although San managed his way over towards you and Yunho eventually.

Yunho told you to keep leaning forward. You felt his hands on your shoulders, and he gently pushed down on you. You could feel the stretch of your muscles as he did so.

“Ahh, that hurts,” you whine.

Yunho chuckles. “That’s common,” he explained.

After doing a few more stretches, you watch the boys perform once before San and Yunho try teaching you the basics.

You struggle a bit at first, but you eventually get the hang of what they’re teaching you.

“Ahh, move your arms this way,” San said as he held your forearms and swung them up and down.

There was a lot of physical touch, and although you weren’t used to it, you were enjoying it. You never received physical affection from your parents so this was a new experience for you.

Yeosang clapped his hands to get you, San’s, and Yunho’s attention.

“We’re going to order food. Do you guys want anything?” he asked.

Jongho mentions that they’re getting tteokbokki, kimchi, other dishes, and they have ramen.

San asks for some Coke, and Yunho just asks for bulgogi.

They place the order. Seonghwa and Wooyoung offer to pick up the food, and they head out, saying they’ll be back in about a half hour.

The realization that it’s almost dinnertime makes you look at your phone to check the time. It was already 6pm.

You’re about to flop down on the floor when Yunho pulls you back up. “It’s good to stretch before and after you exercise,” he tells you.

You nod while yawning. You stretch with San and Yunho, and then you rest on the dance room floor.

You’re on the verge of dozing off when San and Yeosang lay down next to you.

“So you like dancing?” San asks.

You nod. “Oh yeah. It’s always been my dream to be an idol, but my parents think it’s a waste of time.”

“Oh, that sucks,” Yeosang muttered. “I’d still try becoming an idol.”

San agrees. “Who cares what they think? You’re old enough to make your own choices.”

“That’s the issue,” you said with a sigh. “I’m getting old; it would take a while to properly train me on vocals and dancing, and by the time I’m ready, I’d be too old to debut in a group. I’d either have to take up an instrument or go solo.”

San groans at the truth. Yeosang, however, proposes an idea. “Jongho has amazing singing skills. Maybe he can teach you?”

You raise an eyebrow and glance at the maknae.

He must’ve overheard because he nods.

“Can you sing, please?” you ask politely.

He smiles before obliging. You’re astonished at how well of a singer he was. He hit high notes flawlessly and without effort.

You were shook.

After he finishes, he gives you an encouraging smile. “Your turn to sing now.”

“No way!” you object. “After that, I’ll sound terrible.”

Jongho shakes his head. “I won’t know what to help you improve on if I don’t hear you sing,” he said.

Swallowing thickly, you start singing one of your favorite songs.

After you were done, the boys clapped, so it must not have been as bad as you thought.

Jongho joins the small group of you, Yeosang, and Yunho. He starts giving you singing tips and breathing techniques.

Your impromptu lesson gets interrupted by Seonghwa and Wooyoung bringing the food. Happy with how the day went, you and the boys start feasting.

~Large time skip~

It’s been a few months since you met Yunho and the rest of ATEEZ. Over those months, you got close to all of them, but San and Yunho in particular. You haven’t been caught by your parents yet, but you knew it was only a matter of time. They called Yunho often to ask about my etiquette progress, and he’d managed to convince them you were doing alright. You really owed him one for pretending to be an etiquette teacher when, in reality, he was your dance teacher.

Yes, you’ve been taking dance lessons from Yunho and San while Jongho and sometimes the others give you singing and even rapping lessons and tips.

You’re finally beginning to understand what Yunho meant about friendship. You’ve stopped hanging out with the people your parents got you acquainted with, although they definitely weren’t happy about that.

In regards to Yunho, you felt most comfortable around him, but you were also nervous around him. You guys often hugged in greeting and when you were saying “bye” to each other, and every time you didn’t want to let him go. You weren’t sure why, and you didn’t want to mention this to him.

You still had suicidal thoughts, but it’s gotten better. Yunho was always there to comfort you, but if you didn’t want the comfort, he would respect your wishes and keep his distance, unless you were about to do something rash.

Anyway. You were on your way to the dance studio. You were gonna be trained on singing while dancing. It’s a pretty chill song and choreography so you won’t be overdoing it.

You had just entered the dance room, and you could already feel the crackhead energy.

Sure enough, San, Yeosang, Hongjoong, and Yunho were making strange noises and faces. You shake your head, a smile on your face though.

San notices you first.

“Hey, Y/N!” He runs up to you, wrapping his arms around you in a hug. You laugh, giving his arms a pat.

“Can I put my backpack down first?” you ask.

He pouts but removes his arms regardless.

The second you put the bag down, San’s arms find their way around you again. You hug him back this time. Once you two pull away, you make your way over to the others, giving them hugs too, but linger on Yunho like you always do.

“Where’s Mingi and Wooyoung?” you ask. Jongho had walked in during your hugging sess.

San huffs. “They aren’t coming today. Apparently they’re busy today,” he says, obviously upset that Wooyoung wasn’t there.

You chuckle. “Woo may not be here, but hey, at least you got me,” you joke.

San grins at you.

Yunho clears his throat. You look at him while San quietly laughs.

“We should get the lesson started,” Yunho says with a shrug.

You nod.

You were about 20 minutes in your lesson when your phone buzzes. You give Yunho an inquisitive look through the mirror. He nods, giving you permission to your silent question.

You check your phone and freeze. Yunho came over to look over your shoulder. He froze as well.

Mom: We know you’ve been lying to us. We followed you to a dance studio. What kind of etiquette lessons are these?

You didn’t know what to reply with. She just kept sending messages.

Mom: You’ve disappointed us again, like you always do.

Mom: We shouldn’t have been surprised though.

Mom: Once you get home from your “etiquette lessons”, we’ll have a nice, long talk.

You dropped your phone, fear filling you. You stumbled a bit backward, but Yunho steadied you.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

San, Jongho, Yeosang, Hongjoong, and Seonghwa had come over to check up on you two.

You shake your head. “I can’t go back home...”

Yunho gives you a gentle and comforting hug. “You can stay with us tonight,” he offered.

You clutch his shirt. “No, I can’t go back at all. They’ll beat me.”

Yunho’s grip on you tightened, and you heard the other boys make remarks or just noises.

Seonghwa speaks up. “We have a spare room. It’s still empty, besides some boxes. Why not move in with us?”

Hongjoong agrees. “We’ve known each other long enough. I think it’d be alright.”

The others put in their input and agreement to you moving in with them. You look up into Yunho’s deep brown eyes. He nods at you.

“Okay, but I’d still need to go back to get my stuff,” you said, sullen.

Yunho hums for a second. “How about we go to your house tonight, maybe around 1 or 2am? Your parents would most likely be asleep, and we can sneak in to get your things,” he suggested.

San lights up at the idea. “Can I come with?” He pauses. “If that’s what you decide.”

You think about it. It’s probably the best idea. Avoiding confrontation with your parents while managing to gather your things and go. You could leave them a “nice” note too.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” you finally conclude. “But only Yunho and San will come with. I don’t want a large group breaking into the house,” you said.

The others nodded in understanding. “While you’re doing that, we could set up the room,” Jongho states.

Everyone settles down on the floor, and we call Mingi and Wooyoung to let them know what’s going on and our plan for tonight. We get the finer details figured out and soon enough, the mission is on its way.

You were standing outside your old home with Yunho and San. It was as dark as it could be, since it was new moon phase. The few streetlights were your only source of light, along with the few flashlights you guys brought.

“Okay, so where are we breaking in from?” San asked.

You bite down on your lower lip. “My bedroom window. It’s on the first floor so it won’t be hard,” you replied.

The boys nod, and the small group makes it way to your window. You slide it open slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible.

“Can you hoist me up, Yunho?” you ask, not wanting to risk making noise while swinging yourself in.

He nods and crouches in front of you. He opens his hands for you to step on, and you use him as a step ladder. You manage to get into your room without incident. Slowly and silently, San and Yunho climb in as well. You head to your dresser first to grab your clothes while the boys grab your shoes, bags, and accessories.

After a while of packing and freezing after dropping a few items, you finally get to personal belongings. You packed your video game consoles, a few pictures, camera, and anything else you owned that had sentimental value.

You breathe out a sigh of relief. It was about 4 in the morning now. You had been here too long for comfort. You quickly write a snarky note and leave it on your desk.

“Okay, let’s go,” you whisper urgently.

They nod in response and grab a few of your bags of belongings. You grab the remaining bags and suitcase. You three leave out the window as quietly as possible and run to the car without closing the window.

Once inside Yunho’s car, all of you loudly sigh out in relief and pent up stress. You groan silently as exhaustion finally settles in as Yunho starts driving.

San looked over the car seat since he was in shotgun, you in the back. “The others have your room mostly ready. There’s a bed with bedding at least,” he said.

“Good,” was your only reply.

You must have dozed off because before you know what happened, you’re at their house. You, San, and Yunho grab all of your belongings and take them to your room. But since you guys were too tired to carry all of the heavy things, a few things remained. San left you in your room to get those remaining bags.

“Well, that was exhausting,” you heard Yunho speak from behind you.

Startled, you quickly turn around, but from lack of sleep added with stress, you lose your balance and stumble forward. Yunho tried catching you but ultimately failed.

You wince in pain as you and Yunho collided with the floor. Opening your eyes, you make eye contact with Yunho.

You notice a light blush on his face, which makes you realize the compromising position you two were in. Yunho was on his back but propped up on his elbows. You were over him, or well, more so over his “area”. Yunho’s knees were up, but you had your arms next to his sides, thus pinning him down. You felt your face heat up quickly, and you were about to scramble away from him and apologize when a voice cuts through the awkward silence.

“I-........ should I leave?”

You turn your head so fast, you manage to crack it a bit. San was standing in the doorway, holding the rest of your things. He had a slightly flustered look, but he was smirking at you and Yunho, an obvious teasing glint in his eyes.

San sighs dramatically as he drops your bags onto the bed. “Honestly,” he sighs. “I leave you two alone for a few minutes, and I walk in on Y/N about to give Yunho a-”

“San!!” Yunho whines and scolds at the same time.

You quickly get off of Yunho and stand up. “It was an accident!”

San’s smirk widens. “Oh, was it now?”

“Yes!” You exclaim exasperated. “He startled me, so when I turned around, I lost my balance and ended up pulling him down with me.”

San laughs. “I’m teasing,” he flicks your forehead lightly.

Yunho had stood up while you and San were bantering. “If.. If that’s all, I’m going to go to bed,” he said awkwardly.

You nod. “Yeah, I can handle the rest by myself,” you say just as awkwardly.

Yunho just nods and leaves. San watches the whole thing with interest.

“Are you sure you don’t want help?” San asks.

You shake your head. “You have to be as exhausted as I am. I’ll unpack everything tomorrow. Right now, we all need sleep,” and as you were speaking, you yawned.

San smiles at you. “Alright. Have sweet dreams, Y/N.” He pauses for a second. “Maybe dream of Yunho,” he adds on with a wink.

“YAH!” You slap San’s shoulder. He escapes your room while laughing. You sigh and roll your eyes, but you were amused by his teasing.

Finding your pjs, you change into your sleepwear and haul everything off of the bed. You slip into the comfy bedding and fall asleep almost instantly.

~To be continued

#ateez #jeong yunho #choi san #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #kang yeosang #song mingi #jeong wooyoung #choi jongho #fluff #cute #romance #ateez fanfic #angst #ateez angst

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

Text

Final Space: And Into The Fire Review or Now with 110% More Homoerotic Telepathy

Welcome new and old to my first Final Space review! If you’ve never seen the blog before, and given this is the first “new” series i’ve covered as it come out in some time that’s probably quite a few of you, welcome. I’m Jake, I do recaps and reviews of various animated shows and comics, mostly just stuff I want to do, often on comission (5 dollars an episode if theres any episode of the first two seasons of this show or any episode of any other show you’d like tos ee me cover), or for my patreon patreon.com/popculturebuffet. And it is my utmost honor to add this show to my rotating roster of shows I cover as they come out.

I friggin love Final Space. I was intrigued by it back when TBS released the animatics alongside Close Enough (Wth the two shows ironically finally together on HBO max as of earlier this month), for their doomed block. I heard a lot of good things about season 1.. and let it get away from me, not watching it till Season 2. But both seasons had more than enough to pull me in with intriguging characters, even greater jokes and a truly unique idea for a premise involving giant monsters, an edltrich god and lots of cookies.

So while it took an extra year given Covid, I’m super friggin pumped to get into season 3 at long last after the hell of a cliffhanger, especially since ironically last night I saw Steven Yeun’s oscar nominated performance in “Minari”. Now i get to watch him play a cat teenager again too.. and in a few days Mark friggin Grayson. It’s a good week to be a fan of his is what i’m saying and a good week in general.

Previously on Final Space Yo!: Since it’s been a year and while the series provides a recap , I’m going to be doing these anyway so:

Our heroes finally got all 5 dimensional keys and freed Bolo, and in the process also freed Avacato from Invictus, the horrifying entity controlling final space. Meanwhile Tribore got Sheryl to stop being a selfish prick and she joined the team trying to be a better mother from now on. But freeing Bolo came at a high cost as Nightfall sacrified herself as the sixth key (KVN was natrually both Gary and Bolo’s first choice, but was inllegible. ) So we ended the season with our heroes entering Final Space and Gary reuniting with Quinn.... while Invictus loomed. So over a year later we finally get some answers so join me under the cut for spoilers, recaps, and homoerotic text ahoy.

Something i’m doing since both the roster keeps changing.. and as I correctly guessed from the trailer, and the general tone of the promos for this season, that everyone won’t be all together all season.. or even in one piece.. i’ll be doing a silver age style roll call to let us know who all we have on the Team Squad for the episode Roll Call: Gary, Quinn, Avacato, Little Cato, Ash, Fox, KVN, HUE, AVA, Sheryl, Bolo, and Tribore

So we pick up right where we left off, Gary tearfully reuniting with Quinn, with Quinn wishing he hadn’t come for her, and Gary being Gary naturally having ignored that, and actually been more determined since that made it forbidden which made it extra tempting and him want to extra do it. God I missed this glorious idiot let me tell you.

So things are quickly interrupted by invictus, who turns out to be a giant flaming head.. thing... and chases them and the crimson light, which has to start speeding with our heroes tethered to the outside, Quinn holding onto Gary.

So we get one hell of a thrilling chase as the Crimson Light outspeeds the demon head and runs into two titans, but Bolo shows up to take out one, with Mooncake trying his dimension shattering blast thingy on Invictus.. and naturlaly g ven this is the big bad we need to show off how horrying they are, and it does NOTHING. But Gary catches his little buddy so we’re alright.

Sheryl also shows off her badass bonafieds by LIGHTFOLDING THROUGH A TITAN... granted she still has some parenting skills to learn as “lightfolding while your son is hanging out the back through an edltrich god” really isn’t a motherly thing to do.. but neither is trying to murder your child several times or blaming him for how shitty your life turned out so ANYTHING is a step up for her.

But.. it’s not enough. While she does manage to kill ONE the Crimson Light is too badly damaged to go on and we get two tragic deaths in one go... The Team Squad is forced to abandon the Crimson Light.. and AVA is too damaged to Upload into HUE. “I’m Sad” “For who?” “For you.. and for us. “ God damn Tom Kenny is amazing. You don’t need me telling you that, but sometimes you need a reminder.

So our heroes end up on a desolate mystery world, stranded in final space with no ship, no suplies and no hope. The only thing to do now is survivie and hope they can continue the mission at some point.

ONE MONTH LATER

Things have not gotten any better, as naturally , our heroes have only found weird cartoon eyed worms that regrow their heads when you bite them off. So while this means unlimited food, it’s also disgusting and Garry hates it. “This may be a head but it tastes like a butt”. Quinn and Tribore are with him and Quinn hasn’t been ready to talk about her experiences trapped in this hellscape and still isn’t but being a good dude, Gary dosen’t push her on it. Though the weird red veiny thing on her arm tells me maybe one of you should speed that up before she explodes or gets cronnenburgy. Just saying. I’ll also say i’m not huge on the one month time skip, as while I feel they probably have a reason for being that specific i’ts a bit TOO long and I question why have that long a period of a jump, not the longest but still long enough for things to happen with nothing changingin that time? Still it’s a minor nitpick in an otherwise fantastic episode so I can let it go, I just don’t get it.

What we do get is some Gary Corpses dropping and Invictius puppeting them... i’m with gary that is bowel openingly scary. I also do like how despite the FAR more dire circumstances, they still get in the requisite shenanigans this series requires. I’ts not to the network mandated subplot levels where it distracts, but it’s enough to help ease the terror of the situation and isn’t around for situations like the opening where it really SHOULDN’T be. As the series always has when something big happens, the bollocks goes away. Once we’re in between we can get back to literal pissing contests, KVN leading a crowd to their deaths and HUE in a pimp hat like god intended.

So yeah our heroes have to outrun the horrible horde of Gary’s, though Little Cato catches on something’s wrong as Tribore makes gary cary him as foreshadowing for later and Sends mooncake down to asssit. Our heroes escape.. but a cave in happens.

After the break, Gary wakes up confused with the party now split in two: Gary, Quinn, KVN, Tribore and HUE on one side and Avacato, Ash, Fox, Little Cato and Sheryl on the other. So Gary does the logical thing... and take his shirt off telling Avacato to feel him.

I mean I didn’t even ship them before this scene but... Gary claims because of their bond he can telepahtically connect with Avacato. That’s normal Gary shenanigans.. except not only does he shrug off his girlfriend asking why they can’t do that.. but it WORKS. We have a scene of the two telepahtically talking in a wheatfield that is so homerotic I guarantee there only wasn’t the Careless Whisper sax because they couldn’t afford it.. or their saving it for later this season. Look sometimes you don’t ship a ship because you just.. dont’ care that strongly one way or another and sometimes you just need an incredibly gay scene to see the light. Same thing happened with Weblena same thing here.

Fox also says “that was glorious to watch” same man. That was freaking art. So our heroes split up into three plots. As usual for me

Team Gary: So yeah... Triobore’s pregnant. No way to really softball into that. He’s been pregnant this whole time. So we get a stupid and mildly horrifying gross out sequence with Gary having to look Triobore in teh eyes and Quinn having to “uncork him”. Which is code for ... you know what i’m not going to say it. If you’ve seen the episode you know and if not your better off not visualizing it trust me. Point is this whole sequence is dumb and the worst part of the episode by far. And the series CAN do good gross out. While Olan Rodgers regrets it, the pissing contest was one of the funniest scenes of season 2, and managed to make a gross idea on paper actually pretty damn funny. This.. this is just “Haha males giving birth and tribore’s an asshole”. There’s no joke here just a .. plug. .. gah.. the vomit is rising let me tell you.

We do get something good out of this nightmare, Tribore’s son who hatches as the army of gary’s dig their way in, Quanstranstro, who rapidly ages into a stylsih spanish speaking adult badass. He is fucking awesome and a great addition to the team and the sheer.. oddity of his birth is wonderful even if the actual birthing was not. Then the climax happens so before that.

Team Avacato:

Avacato and Co come across a sleeping giant robot cyborg .. thingy. Naturally Fox wakes him up. Little Cato remains not suprised. It occelates between panicking over it’s legs being gone and amenisa and is pretty damn funny. It’s voiced by John Dimagio. But it gets serious as we find out nothing has ever made it out of final space, and things.. change the longer there there. And Quinn’s been there several months if not a year. Whuh oh. This part is much better both due to better jokes and plot advancment.. though again Quanstrano is still fucking amazing.

Team Bolo: Bolo meanwhile returns and fights a titan, and has mooncake help him rather htan join the others, but looses, hitting the planet with his body.. I mean he might not get back up.. but the impact shatters the caverns and causes an explosion. Everyone but Gary, Quinn, KVN and HUE are MIA, as our remaining party find earth floating overhead.

TO BE CONTINUED>

Final Thoughts: A decent start to the season. Like I said the whole birthing sequence can die in a fire and reminds me of the terrible comedy subplots adult swim wanted grafted onto two episodes.. but otherwise it’s a tense stark opener that sets up the bleak tone while still keeping the series rediciulous shenanigans in tact. It’s the perfect welcome back after so long. I mean the gay telepathy alone would make it a winner.

Next Time on This Blog: We dive into a little history with HIsteria. See you at the next rainbow.

#final space #gary goodspeed #avacato #little cato #quinn airgon #ash grayven #fox #KVN #HUE #AVA #invictus #bollo #sheryl goodspeed #tribore menendez

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confused-stars · 3 years

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Dusk is Dawn, Day is Night (Up is Down, Left is Right) - aka cloudfam au

Chapter Two on Ao3

or right here, for your convenience! (also here’s my ko-fi!)

Tenko sat atop one of the biggest trash hills on Dagobah Beach and watched the twig of a teenager try to move a way too big piece of debris. It was... kind of funny to watch him struggle, heels digging deep into the sand. But on the other hand, Tenko knew the kid had really been trying for weeks. This beach could be cleared pretty quickly if Tenko just used his quirk, but Toshi had explicitly told him not to.

But also Toshi wasn't here right now.

Tenko began climbing down the trash pile, years of practice scaling unstable debris making his movements quick and confident. He landed in the sand and pulled off a glove as he approached Midoriya. "Hey, let me get that for you."

The kid jumped, having apparently not noticed him before, but he stepped away when Tenko reached out. "Um, I'm actually supposed to be doing this for t-training..." The piece of trash - part of an old armchair from what Tenko could surmise - crumbled into dust.

"What All Might doesn't know can't hurt him." He shrugged, tugging his glove back on before he stuffed both hands into the front pocket of his hoodie.

Big, green eyes were staring at him in awe. "You're Dust Cloud! I've seen so many videos of your work in rescue, you're amazing, you clearly put so much thought in the way you apply your quirk, there has to be so much physics at work trying to figure out how to only disintegrate parts of a fallen building and not hurting the hostages in the process. How does your quirk work? It needs all five fingers, right? And it's more of a mutation than an emitter because you can't turn it off? Kacchan is kind of like that because his sweat is always explosive, no matter what. Oh, do you control where the decay spreads and how far when it's a large area? Is it true that you once rescued Endeavor's whole family from a villain attack? Are you-" Tenko slapped a hand on the kid's shoulder. "Please stop." He was a lot. Toshi hadn't been lying about that.

"S-sorry!" Midoriya was flushed entirely red and Tenko had to fight back a smile. He'd always thought he wasn't great with kids, but his family had left him no choice but to learn.

"Just slow down a bit if you're actually expecting answers," he suggested mildly, "C'mon, water break. I've been watching you for a while, you need to hydrate."

Midoriya made a soft noise in the back of his throat. "... you've been watching me?"

Tenko shrugged. "All Might couldn't make it today so he asked me to drop by and make sure you don't overextend yourself," he explained.

Midoriya stared at him. "I didn't know you worked with All Might!"

Tenko headed over to where the kid had dropped his backpack, Midoriya trailing after him. "I don't work with him, technically. But he trusts me." He paused. "Enough to tell me how he's planning on giving you his quirk."

Midoriya seemed to short-circuit for a moment. Tenko couldn't blame him. There would probably be a lot of that in the future for the poor kid now that he was involved with Toshi. It was just secrets upon secrets with him. Tenko being one of them.

"Are you still with me?" Tenko asked at the distant look in Midoriya's eyes as he pulled a water bottle out of his backpack and took a few large gulps. When he was finished, the kid nodded. "I just didn't... he hasn't mentioned you. N-not that there was much time to... he's always so busy, so-"

"Slow. Down." Tenko was going to get a headache. Oh, Oboro and Hizashi would adore this boy. Shouta would, too, but he'd try to deny it. And Himiko would be thrilled. Maybe they'd end up in the same class together.

Midoriya swallowed. "S-sorry."

Tenko sighed. "I'm not offended he didn't mention me. Don't worry about that. There's a lot he'll need to fill you in on, and he'll do that on his own time." Like who else knew about One for All, for instance, because it would be important for Midoriya to know who to trust. And it would be important for him to not only be relying on Toshi. As much as Tenko loved his dad, he wasn't actually a great teacher, and in his urge to do everything right all the time, coupled with years of traumatic experiences, he often forgot to consider other perspectives.

“He’s mentioned that, yeah,” Midoriya murmured, “There’s a lot more to this quirk than just… a quirk, isn’t there?”

He was clever. Good. It wasn’t that Tenko didn’t trust Toshi’s judgement, but it was still good to make sure for himself. “There’s… a lot,” he confirmed. They’d have to talk through how and when to reveal which pieces of information. It wouldn’t be fair to let the kid run into things blind, but overwhelming him was also a risk.

This absolutely could not be left to Toshi entirely. Tenko wasn’t the best for it, either. Shouta might be, his deadpan way of delivering information was often comforting. Or Oboro, with his easy empathy. Midoriya seemed like he might need someone gentle to help him along.

“Listen, kid…” Tenko cringed at himself. He wasn’t even that much older than Midoriya, it didn’t feel natural. “There’s a lot of people in your corner here. I’ll talk to All Might, and we’ll figure out how to prepare you for all this. Cleaning trash can’t be all you do. He cares about muscle a bit too much, if you ask me.” Tenko, of course, was mostly lean muscle, too, but the way Toshi used One for All had always been so reliant on strength. It didn’t have to be, though, clearly, when looking at Tenko’s grandmother. And Midoriya needed to grow stronger, yes, but it was doubtful that his fighting style would end up anywhere close to All Might’s. Tenko reached out and awkwardly put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Being a hero is about backing each other up, yeah? We’ve got you.”

___

After dropping Midoriya off at home, Tenko wandered the streets, moving in the vague direction of his own apartment. Meeting the kid had been a lot to process. Tenko liked him. He seemed like he’d make a good hero. If he’d make a good Symbol of Peace remained to be seen.

There was no doubt that Midoriya couldn’t be the next All Might. He looked up to him, but he was nothing like him. Maybe that was a good thing. A new generation always promoted change, and while the country would eventually flounder without All Might standing strong to protect it, maybe Midoriya would find his very own way of taking up his mantle.

He certainly had a lot of thoughts in that broccoli-like head of his. Hopefully he’d be able to adjust to the quirk itself alright. Toshinori had his plans for that, but it was a bit of a point of contention between everyone who knew about One for All. Or everyone involved in this situation directly, anyway.

Toshi had refused to contact Gran Torino about it, which Tenko kind of understood, but he was willing to take the first step himself if the old hero’s expertise was needed. Nighteye was another person whose help they could probably use, especially considering that he had a lot in common with what Tenko already knew of Midoriya. If nothing else, they’d be able to strike up a great conversation about limited All Might figurines or something like that. But, once again, Nighteye wasn’t someone Toshi was willing to talk to.

Shouta, of course, insisted that he’d have to get over his personal issues if he wanted to help his successor along to the best of his ability, and Tenko agreed. He just also knew Toshi needed some more time to think things through. And it wasn’t like they were in that much of a hurry.

As long as All Might didn’t get into any big fights and stuck to his time limit, he should be able to uphold his status for another couple years, until Midoriya was finished with high school, at least. That should be doable.

The first thought Tenko had when the window of the store on the other side of the street shattered was ‘oh, please, don’t let this be a sign’.

He broke into a sprint without even a millisecond of hesitation, past the stunned civilians who were just now beginning to turn in the direction of the incident. The shattering of glass had been accompanied by a dull, deep sound, almost like a heavy bass turned up too loud. Tenko had felt it shake his body faintly, even being a little bit further away.

“Call an ambulance!” he shouted over his shoulder at the nearest bystander, who hastily began fumbling with her phone. Tenko left her to it.

He jumped over the broken glass and carefully pushed the door open. There was no screaming or yelling going on, at least, which meant this probably wasn’t a villain. Hopefully.

“Hello?” he called, “I’m a hero! Is anyone injured?”

“Back here!” came the answer, a little delayed, and followed by a cough.

Tenko rounded a shelf that seemed to have had all its contents blown out that were now scattered across the floor, but the shelf itself miraculously still standing – courtesy of construction with both earth quakes and quirks in mind, most likely. The first thing he found on the other side was an older man slumped on the floor and holding his bleeding head. The vest and nametag he was wearing told Tenko that he was staff, and the clear-eyed look of relief told him that the injury wasn’t life-threatening at the very least. There was no use freaking out about head-wounds more than necessary, they always bled a lot.

That wasn’t the main reason for concern, though, and as Tenko took in the scene, his heart sank.

In the middle of all the destruction stood a tiny girl, hands pressed to her ears and shaking her head rapidly as she sobbed. A woman was kneeling in front of her, though a little ways away, seeming hesitant to touch her.

Tenko would estimate the girl to be about four years old, which made her the perfect age for…” “Her quirk,” said the woman, looking up to Tenko with wide eyes, “She just… this is the first time…”

Tenko understood all too well. He reached for the emergency pager he kept in his pocket and pressed the button. If he was very lucky, Eraserhead would be the one to answer his call. But either one of the other two would be great, too, after all, they knew better than Tenko did how to deal with a scared child who couldn’t handle the destructive power of their quirk.

“What are your regular methods of calming her down?” he asked, very carefully moving around the child, not getting too close just in case, and keeping his hands up in a hopefully soothing position. He wished he had his hero costume. Right now, he just looked like some guy with an admittedly not too reassuring looking face, and his habit to wear black on black wasn’t helping. He did put on a small, soft smile though, when the girl’s eyes snapped to him, and while she didn’t stop crying – now interspersed with small hiccups – she also didn’t blow up again, which was Tenko’s main concern.

“I… I just try to take her away somewhere quiet…” the woman who was probably her mother said. She was cradling her arm to her chest, clearly trying not to let on that she was in pain, but Tenko had been trained to recognize that kind of thing.

“Alright, thank you. Are you okay with staying in her line of sight for now?” Getting civilians out of imminent danger was always the first thing that needed to be done, but mothers and children were something else entirely. Tenko didn’t trust that the girl wouldn’t panic even more if her mother left her alone.

“I… yes. Of course.” The woman nodded, face set with determination now.

Tenko glanced around the scene again and took a breath. There were several hero action figures strewn about, most of them broken in some way or another. Some of them were making the noises of messed up voice boxes, repeating the lines that had been recorded for them, or just beeping incessantly.

He pulled off one of his gloves and crouched down, still feeling the girl’s eyes on him as he began to pick up the loud figurines one by one, the cacophony of background noise slowly fading as his quirk worked.

The girl’s crying was subsiding, too. But as Tenko looked up at her, her eyes were glassy and she was trembling slightly. She was going into shock. But she was slowly lowering her hands away from her ears, and that was all Tenko needed.

“Hey,” he said very softly, “It’s okay. Your Mama’s okay, and I’m a hero. I’m here to help, see? I got rid of all the noise.”

The girl sniffled slightly, but nodded.

“Oh, sweetheart…” Her mother seemed to be struggling not to run and wrap her daughter in a hug, but Tenko was glad she wasn’t doing it right now. It had to be incredibly difficult to fight against her own instincts like that.

“I hurt you…” The little girl’s voice was numb, too calm, stating a fact as she stared down at her hands. “I did… I did a bad thing.”

“No, no, I’m fine. I’ll be fine, honey, this wasn’t your fault,” her mother reassured her quickly, speaking a little too fast, hasty in trying to reassure her daughter.

Tenko wasn’t sure that would help. “Would you like to come outside with me?” They would have to take the backdoor to avoid all the onlookers, the gawking crowd that would already be waiting outside. Anything that would set the child off right now would result in even more injuries. Or worse, if they were unlucky.

The girl glanced at his hand, but Tenko put his glove back on and smiled. “See, my quirk doesn’t do anything dangerous when I’m wearing these. We’ll find something like that for yours, too, okay?”

She nodded slowly and reached out a hand, towards him rather than her mother. That was good. She trusted him as a hero to take care of her, even at this age. Having hurt her mother, it made sense she wouldn’t want to touch her right now.

There would be a lot of counselling needed for her to recover from this. But the worst had been averted, and when the girl’s tiny hand slid into Tenko’s, he held fast.

Ten minutes later, Tenko was sipping the free coke the store owner had given to him as a courtesy and watching the ambulance drive away – on board: the little girl, her mother, and a mildly uncomfortable but ever-professional Eraserhead. He’d keep any further quirk accidents from happening, even though everything had calmed down considerably now.

“It’s weird how we’re the kind of people who just attract trouble wherever we go,” Oboro said beside him, leaning his elbow on a cloud, his eyes also fixed on the back of the ambulance. He’d been patrolling with Shouta, and so they’d both come to answer Tenko’s call. And even though Tenko had had everything under control, seeing him show up in his hero uniform had immediately put him at ease. That was what heroes were supposed to do.

“I’m just glad I have a hero license so I can actually do something about the trouble now,” Tenko said. He’d always itched to solve problems, maybe that was part of why he loved video games (and his actual, real life job) so much, and the time before he’d had his hero license had been hell. Growing up surrounded by heroes didn’t help, either. He’d wanted to join them on patrols at six years old already. That was around the time Nemuri had helped him design his first hero costume.

And the thing was, even when Tenko hadn’t been allowed to seek out trouble, trouble had still found its way to him. He wondered if other heroes were like that, too, just people who had been unlucky all their lives and wanted to fight back. Probably not. Tenko just had uniquely bad luck.

Oboro laughed next to him. “Remember the phase when you wanted to become an esports professional?”

Tenko elbowed him in the side. He did not need to be reminded of that. He’d just been an embarrassing teenager and mostly it had been his way of protesting how hard UA classes were. He hadn’t honestly considered it… had he?

“I could still do that,” he pointed out, “Or I could start streaming video games. I bet a ton of people would love to watch.” A lot of his fans appreciated how he’d sometimes start rambling about video games in interviews, after all. Apparently it made him ‘relatable’. Even though he doubted he actually was, once someone got to know him. His best friend was an ever-grumpy burn victim for a reason.

“You could,” Oboro agreed, “I’d be in. We could set you up at the agency and stream together.”

And just like that, Tenko didn’t like the idea anymore. It was really a miracle how fast that could happen. “You know what, I think I’ll stick to private gaming.”

Oboro gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “I’m wounded! You just don’t want to be seen with me on camera!”

Tenko rolled his eyes, trying hard not to smile. “We’re on camera together all the time. I just don’t want to be seen with you on camera where it seems like it was my choice.”

“How can you say that? About your favorite uncle?” Oboro pouted, clearly over exaggerating on purpose, and Tenko finally broke and laughed.

“Sorry to break it to you, but you’re just not cool anymore.”

Oboro crossed his arms, but then immediately lit up again. “So you used to think I was cool at some point?”

Tenko snorted. “Uh, obviously.”

He may have looked up to Shouta because he was badass, as a teenager, but Oboro would always receive a special kind of admiration from him. It was only fair. After all, who knew where Tenko would be without him?

#cloudfam au #my writing #happy april y'all i finally did it #the next chapter is gonna be faster i swear #i just really struggled with the store scene #i think regular hero work is just hard for me to write idk

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