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fuckyeahgoodomens · 3 months

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SFX Magazine Issue 368, August 2023

THEY’RE BACK – AND THIS TIME THEY’RE IN ALL-NEW TERRITORY. NEIL GAIMAN TALKS RETURNING FOR SEASON TWO OF GOOD OMENS

THE RASCALLY DEMON Crowley (David Tennant) and the neurotic angel Aziraphale (Michael Sheen) put aside their differences to pull off one doozy of a Hail Mary and prevent an impending Apocalypse in Good Omens’ first season. The task cemented the pair’s unconventional friendship. So what are divine beings, who have fallen out of grace with both Heaven and Hell, to do for an encore?

The answer lies with archangel Gabriel (Jon Hamm), who shows up unannounced on the doorstep of Aziraphale’s London bookshop. Suddenly, Aziraphale and Crowley are caught up in a caper of biblical proportions – but also a more intimate tale.

“It’s a mystery,” showrunner Neil Gaiman tells SFX. “It kicks off a story that doesn’t have giant consequences for the universe, even if it does have consequences for Aziraphale and Crowley. We have a lot of the marvellous Jon Hamm, who is the angel Gabriel and turns up at the beginning stark naked, carrying a cardboard box with no memory of who he is. In the same way, it is about Aziraphale and Crowley having to get involved with humanity in a way that they haven’t before.

“They get dragged in slightly against their will to try to sort out the love life of Aziraphale’s tenant,” he continues. “Her name is Maggie [Maggie Service] and she runs the record shop next to the bookshop. You’ll see the coffee shop over the road, which is Nina’s [Nina Sosanya]. The relationship between Maggie and Nina is one that Crowley and Aziraphale try to fix, and mess up, because they are not good at human relationships, even if they can do miracles.”

Truth be told, Gaiman never originally intended this arc to serve as Good Omens’ second instalment. The TV series was based on Gaiman and Terry Pratchett’s 1990 novel. The two collaborators had partially hashed out the details for a sequel to the fantasy comedy, late one night in a hotel room. This, however, is not it. Gaiman instead plotted a new narrative that could provide the connective tissue between the first season and a theoretical season three, if it happens.

“Because the hypothetical season three exists, there is a story that is there, and I didn’t feel that we could drive straight from season one into that,” Gaiman explains. “I knew what the stakes were. I knew what the parameters were. I also knew that I had David and Michael. I had the angels from plot number one.

I had demons from plot number one. And with anybody that I wanted to bring back, but didn’t have room for right now, I did not have to bring them back as themselves. “I had absolutely nothing for Madame Tracy to do in this plot, but I would be damned if Miranda Richardson wasn’t going to be in this. She is one of my favourite people in the world. She is hilarious and is so good. And I knew I was going to have a new demon replacing Crowley as Hell’s representative in London/ the UK. Miranda’s demon Shax is the best demon you could want.”

It’s late February 2022 and SFX is in Edinburgh for a set visit. A soundstage in Pyramids Studios has been transformed into a street in Soho. The visible local stores include the aforementioned book, coffee and record shops, as well as a magic establishment. In the middle of them all stand Aziraphale and Crowley, the latter in close proximity to his classic Bentley. It’s close to the end of the six-episode season, so exactly what the duo is discussing constitutes a spoiler. We can say, however, that Aziraphale has picked up the pace. Time is of the essence as Shax marshals her forces to descend on Aziraphale’s store and retrieve Gabriel.

“This is really Shax’s first time out on Earth,” Gaiman explains. “She is working very diligently and very hard in Hell for a long time. Now she is on Earth, trying to figure it all out. She’s just discovering what Crowley has known for 6,000 years, which is that if you’re a demon and come up with a brilliant plan to screw up the lives of humanity, people will get there first and do worse than anything you could have imagined! She’s coming to terms with that.

“She is having to deal with the first crisis on her watch, as well, which is the disappearance of the archangel Gabriel from Heaven. It would be fair to say that by the end of the story, she is leading as much as she can get from Hell’s requisition department – a legion of Hell – in an attack on a Soho bookshop.”

When audiences catch up with Aziraphale again, he’s enjoying his time among humans. He owns most of the block in a Soho neighbourhood, and he’s meddling in Nina’s love life. Meanwhile, Crowley has been living in his car, with his plants sitting on the back seat. He’s grumpy about his current status quo, but frequently hangs out at Aziraphale’s. The duo began as antagonists, but their history and blossoming relationship will be fleshed out in flashbacks.

“One of the enormously fun things I came up with is the idea of minisodes,” Gaiman explains. “They are 25-minute-long episodes within the episode. We have three of them over our six episodes. Each of them is like one of those chunks of episode three [in season one]. Whereas the longest one of those was four or five minutes, if that, these are full stories.

“You get to have the story of [put-upon Biblical figure] Job, and you learn Aziraphale and Crowley’s part in the story. Then writer Cat Clarke takes us to Edinburgh in the 1820s for a tale of body-snatching and attempted murder that the boys get involved in,” he adds.

“Finally, Jeremy Dyson and Andy Nyman reunite the League Of Gentlemen in a Nazi-period story that takes place very shortly after the episode in the church. That one was the only one I said had to be there, because I fell in love with our Nazi spies in the church. I kept thinking, ‘What would happen if they essentially came back as zombies, with a mission from Hell to try and investigate whether or not Crowley and Aziraphale were actually fraternising?’”

Gaiman admits that one of the greatest challenges has been filming Good Omens simultaneously with his upcoming show Anansi Boys. The two shoot within throwing distance of each other, but are both timeconsuming endeavours.

“If I could go back in time, I would go back to 16 September 2020, when Douglas Mackinnon [co-producer] and I got the phone call from the Amazon bigwigs to say, ‘We have good news for you and interesting news for you,’” Gaiman recalls. “‘The good news is we are greenlighting both Good Omens and Anansi Boys. The interesting news is you are going to have to do them both at the same time.’

“I would go back to then and I would throw myself on the call and say, ‘Neil, don’t! This is unwise.’ That we are doing them both together is great. The amount of sleep I am not getting is monumental and monstrous.

“It’s a little bit like childbirth, in that I managed to forget all the things that drove me nuts about the first one. Having said that, I managed to fix all the things that really drove me nuts making season one, which is great. We just have a whole new set of problems making season two…”

The Odd Couple - David Tennant and Michael Sheen talk character and sets for season two

Crowley and Aziraphale come off as the best of frenemies at times. Where do they stand with one other now?

DT: They are indeed. What’s different in season two is because of what happened at the end of season one, they no longer have head offices that they have to report to. They are in a very different position. Whereas before they were trying to get away with things, now they are kind of free agents.

MS: Although sort of fugitives as well. They are sort of in-between. But this amazing life they have created over a millennia, they are now able to enjoy in a slightly different way. They are not having to put on a front for their respective teams. There is a different kind of freedom.

DT: While at the same time being cut off, so they are also strangers in a strange land.

MS: That kind of connects them in a slightly different way. They have always been the only two beings who could understand each other’s position. Now they are pushed even closer together.

Now that they have the run of the place with no obligations, does that bring its own set of problems, being cut off?

DT: They have this sort of uneasy relationship. They are not entirely cut off from their head offices. Indeed, their head offices are quite keen to exploit that sort of adjacent connection, as we will see as the story unfolds. They exist in this grey area, neither the supernatural nor of the Earth.

MS: By the time we pick up their story in this series, they have appeared in time where they were kind of let alone a bit more. When we pick the story up, they are being bothered again.

The depth and the richness and the detail of what we are seeing on set here in Edinburgh is mind-blowing. How is it for you having it all in one place now, rather than having filming scattered around the UK?

MS: It’s completely changed the experience of doing it. Just being indoors… The Soho set on the first season was freezing cold.

DT: I was in a car park. Even inside the bookshop I was exposed to the elements! There’s a greater percentage of the show set here. There was a practical imperative to making it a manageable environment. If we had been in a car park, the elements might have impinged our ability to film.

Hellraiser - David Tennant is Crowley

You and Michael know these characters inside out. Do you have a shorthand?

It’s a hard thing to be objective about. Although I didn’t know Michael that well before we shot season one, it was always easy and exciting working together. It’s well-oiled now, for sure. It’s certainly fun to come to work. We enjoy bouncing off each other.

How comfortable are they about becoming involved with Gabriel?

I suppose Aziraphale is a much more enthusiastic detective. We are very much voting for the spin-off called The Azirafiles, which will follow this! As with most things, Crowley is reluctant to get involved or to exhibit any kind of energy or enthusiasm about very much. He is dragged kicking and screaming into this. Necessity forces him to get involved, whereas Aziraphale rather likes it.

Where does Crowley hang out these days?

He spends a lot of time in the book shop. He only has one friend. He can only have one friend. That is the great liberation, and also the great prison, that they find themselves in. They have no one else. They have come to rely on each other more than they ever did. And more than they care to admit.

Crowley is a rock star, in a way. Were there any particular musicians that inspired you?

Not consciously, no. The look was assembled accidentally during the first costume sessions. The Crowley of the book is of the mode when the book was written. He is more kind of Wall Street, the way he is described. We just decided that Crowley should always be of the moment he’s in. We were just trying to find a look that we felt fitted.

Divine Being - Michael Sheen is Aziraphale

How has knowing your characters better informed this series?

The first series was the first time we really properly worked together. It feels like we haven’t stopped working together since. Everything that has happened in-between plays into coming back to these characters. I am sure it is all feeding into it. It’s very difficult for us to know how that is informing the characters and their relationships.

With the flashbacks to various points in Earth’s history, is there a period of time Aziraphale enjoys the most?

One of the most enjoyable things for the audience and us is moving through different historical periods. It’s a great source of joy, and people thoroughly enjoyed that episode in the first series, so that has been expanded on in season two. But in terms of which Aziraphale enjoys the most, I think it’s not actually a period of time that we’ve seen him in on this series.

He would have been happiest at the end of the 19th century, in the Victorian era, which is considered the golden age of magic. He would have loved being with the greats like Harry Houdini. He loved the Victorian period. It was a great period of time for philanthropy and doing good works in a municipal way.

How has it been going from something dark like The Prodigal Son to a more whimsical show?

That’s the nature of an actor’s job. You go from one thing to another. In some ways, it’s even more useful to have big differences between the characters. What tends to happen, and I think most actors feel this way, is if you are playing one character for a long time, part of you yearns to play the bits the character doesn’t have. There’s a naivety and an innocence about Aziraphale. But at the same time, underneath that, there is eons of knowledge and experience.

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jamesmydeer · 5 months

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christmas festivities hcs

masterlist

james potter

making gingerbread houses

- the potters are THE family when it comes to christmas traditions

- james is like one of those dads on vacation with an itinerary for the whole month of december

- he will be partaking in every christmas festivity

- and so will you, like it or not

- and he will be referring to anyone who complains even once as ‘scrooge’

- his favorite, without a doubt, is decorating gingerbread houses

- because this man is competitive

- he loves you, but there’s no way he will let you make a better gingerbread house than him

- he wanted to bake his own like his mom used to do when he was a kid

- but he is no longer a kid

- and you are not his mom

- so he settles for the pre-assembled ones

- gets soooo pouty when yours starts looking better than his

“i think they gave you better icing or something”

- excuses

- you leave for one second to wash your hands

- and come back to his gingerbread house lights (mini gummies) actually flickering

“jamie! we agreed no magic!”

“you can’t prove anything!”

- he’s such a sore loser omg

- says he doesn’t care whose turns out better

- liar

- insists that you do one together

- more like he watches you do one and claims half the work

- sits you in his lap while you work on it

- his only contribution is a heart on the side with your initials in it

- he’s so cute y’all

- wraps his arms around your middle and snuggles into your neck

- hums along to the christmas music playing in the background

- gets bored and stands up, taking you with him

- dances around the dining room to festive music until his parents return home

- and immediately asks them whose is better

- doesn’t care my ass 🙄

“they’re both great jamie”

“y/n’s.”

“…”

“what? i’m not going to lie to my son”

- will need to snuggle on the couch to a christmas movie after that

- his poor little feelings :,(

sirius black

decorating the tree

(contemplating writing a fic for this, lmk what you think)

- sirius never got to decorate a christmas tree as a kid

- they always had one, and he helped put ornaments on

- but it always ended in him getting yelled at for putting them in the wrong place

- and they always had to match the theme

- if he brought an ornament home from school, it went straight into a box

- so when you get a tree for your place, he fully intended to sit back and let you do all the work

- you bring in a few boxes of ornaments and he tells you he’ll get all of them out

- he doesn’t want his baby poking themselves on the sharp part

- he goes through the first box and there’s nothing special

- some cute ornaments you made as a child that your family was willing to part with

- a cute set of a wolf, deer, dog, and rat that james insisted on everyone getting

- then he moves on to the next box

- and it’s full of ornaments from his family home that never got put on the tree

- he doesn’t even care how you got them, he just feels so appreciated for once

- he associates christmas with some not so good memories, and he loves you so much for trying to replace them

- sets the box down and hugs you so tight

- you swear you hear sniffles, but that’s neither here nor there

- lifts you up to put the star on top of the tree

“nice view from down here. star looks pretty good too”

- you step back to admire your work and he can’t stop smiling

- he’s so proud of it

- the tree is nowhere near as pretty as the ones he was used to

- but it was the best tree he had ever seen

- because it was yours

- and it showcased how much you love him

remus lupin

family christmas party

- oh he is NERVOUS

- he’s met your family before, but this is a big deal to him

- because it’s the holidays and your whooooole family will be there

- you try to tell him that there’s no way he could make a bad impression

- he has tea with madam pince once a week, older people adore him

- you offer to pick him up but he insists on coming over alone

- which was a BIG mistake

- he went to a christmas party at the potter’s last year and was severely underdressed

- how was he supposed to know you have to dress fancy for christmas parties?? they don’t do that in the movies

- he was not going to do that again

- but your family does not wear suits to a christmas party

- weirdo pureblood traditions

- when he walk in and everyone is in comfy clothes?

- he has never felt more embarrassed

- his face is so red it could pass for an ornament

“you have more christmas sweaters than anyone i’ve ever met, and today is the day you decide not to wear one?”

- aside from a few of your uncles teasing him, everyone thinks he looks quite charming

- i mean, he’s already an attractive boy

- he can only look better in a suit

- besides, he’ll take a few teasing comments if it means he gets doted on by your mom

- whines to you once you’re in private that you should have told him

- you’re so mean

- remus lupin is a big baby

- luckily, you have a few of his sweaters

- you lead him into your bedroom to change

“door open y/n!”

- as if remus would ever do something inappropriate in your childhood home!

- he so would

- will NOT stop sniffing his sweater that now smells exactly like you

- it gets to present time and remus doesn’t expect to get anything

- and he’s fine with that !!!!

- he’s just happy to be there

- rests his head on your shoulder and watches everyone pass around presents

- you play with his hair and that’s enough of a gift for him

- but omg remus this one has your name on it!

- and it’s from you and your parents

- he smiles so big and assured them over and over that they didn’t have to do that

- he opens it up and it’s a pair of pajamas

- you tell him they match the ones that you three have

- and that’s the sweetest thing he has ever heard

- you guys want him to match you 🥺

- after everyone leaves, you all change into them and watch a christmas movie

- you snuggle up on the couch and he holds you tight

- occasionally kissing your forehead and thanking you for tonight

“you know, they can’t yell at us to leave the door open if they’re asleep”

- he’s so cheeky

- but who are you to deny him

#jamesmydeer #harry potter #marauders #harry potter hc #marauders hc #harry potter imagine #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #james potter x reader #james potter hc #james potter #sirius black hc #sirius black #remus lupin imagine #remus hc #remus lupin hc #sirius black imagine #james potter imagine

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narrans · 2 months

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My Borrowed Son | 5 | Secret and Safe

It was the sound of her phone that awoke her a few hours later. The annoying ring was like a blaring siren, nearly jump scaring Amanda straight out of bed. She thankfully remembered that the little boy was asleep on her chest last time she was conscious and didn’t sit bolt upright as soon as she heard her phone.

She swiped her finger over the phone and answered the call, which she saw was from Mel.

“Hey,” said Amanda quietly. She glanced down and saw the little boy was still fast asleep nuzzled into her hand and laying limp against her fingers as she kept her hand pressed against her chest.

“Hey! I’m here,” said Mel. Amanda could hear her voice muffled on the other side of my door in the living room, a further testament to the size difference of this apartment to her old house. Her chest clenched uncomfortably, but Amanda knew she would have a chance to really talk once Mel was settled in.

One last thing.

She hated to leave the little boy on his own, but Mel’s thunderous voice might scare him. Amanda remembered noise complaints from other college dorms simply because Mel would get so excited and start talking louder and louder. Amanda never minded. It added to her friend’s charm.

Still, it wasn’t worth the risk.

Amanda carefully pulled the boy away from her chest and laid him on his bed in the little box she set up for him. He stirred but did not wake.

Perfect.

Amanda tiptoed out of her room and closed the door right behind her before scurrying to the door and opening it. Mel was a welcome sight. Instantly, Amanda felt completely overwhelmed.

Not only did seeing her friend bring back a rush of memories from her wedding and countless hours talking late at night about dreams and the future, but also seeing the massive basket of goodies Mel brought with her to lift Amanda’s spirits was completely overwhelming.

“Sorry for the delay. Traffic. I hate traffic. I hate people, specifically driving people. Now! Am I just going to be out here like the vampire I am? Or are you going to let me in?” asked Mel. Amanda let out a choked laugh at their long-running joke and stepped aside.

“I give you permission to enter,” Amanda stated. She was barely keeping everything together as her friend hurried in and whisked herself into the kitchen with her basket of goodies, medical bag on her hip.

One look around and Amanda could see Mel was piecing together what was going on in her personal life.

Oh, if she only knew there was something – someone – even more interesting in the other room.

“Sweetie, your place is… boxy,” said Mel, trying to make a pun out of the ordeal. Tears began spilling over Amanda’s eyes and, immediately, Mel’s features softened, and she rushed to her friend’s side. “Hey. Hey… I… sorry… I was just trying to make light of all this. I… well… I’d say let’s sit down, but there’s not a great place to do that.”

Amanda let out a wet chuckle as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and tried to smile through it. The embrace of her friend was making her feel a smidge better, but it was far from a cure. Like a leach, everything had suctioned onto her and was draining Amanda.

With Mel here, she would get a chance to let off some of that long pent-up steam and let one of her best friends in on everything that had happened.

“No, it’s fine,” Amanda sniffled. “I like it. It’s making me feel better.”

“Great! Then I’m going to keep going. Um…” Mel guided Amanda over to the counter of the kitchen and gestured for her to sit. “Well, at least with me around, you won’t be very card-bored. Um… why are boxes bad at poker? They’re too good at folding.”

“Oh gosh,” Amanda muttered as she rolled her eyes. “Did you come up with those yourselves?”

“Hey, I work with kids all day every day. Some of those little comedians have good stuff,” huffed Mel before sighing heavily. “I’m afraid they’re rubbing off on me.”

“No, it’s fine,” mumbled Amanda as she let Mel guide her into the kitchen.

Mel looked around and only now noticed there were no chairs in the kitchen, or anywhere else for that matter. So, just like they used to, Amanda and Mel hopped up onto the kitchen counters and sat there as Amanda collected herself.

“Okay, so… I don’t want to ask anything too insensitive yet,” started Mel, which made Amanda laugh.

“But you’re going to.”

“Well, if you wanted a soft shoulder to cry on instead of my bony butt, you would’ve called Susan or Cheril; but no, you have me. So, what happened? Why the call? What are all of these boxes for? Did you and Brandyn move? Or…”

This sent Amanda into another round of choked sobs, which silenced Mel. That response alone told her more than words could describe. Amanda didn’t need to say anything, which was the great thing.

“Ah… so… this is… your…new place,” Mel concluded. Amanda nodded as she hid her face in her hands. Heat radiated off of the pediatrician as she ramped up her signature fury. “That scumbag! When? Mandy, when did this happen?”

Amanda curled in on herself and leaned into Mel as she spilled everything.

Amanda talked about Brandyn’s “seven year itch” and how the two of them had tried to go to therapy to sort everything out. She confessed that Brandyn had been talking to a few different women, talking about how the two of them were married so young and that he didn’t really get a chance to “live,” whatever that meant.

He wanted to go and be young, something he said Amanda robbed from him because, in all reality, the two of them had never been with someone other than each other.

Mel listened quietly, but her body tension and facial expressions said everything about how she felt about the situation. Amanda could feel Mel’s frustration and sympathy radiating off of her, each new statement or piece of the story making her huff or grumble something under her breath.

When Amanda finished, Mel was physically biting her tongue to keep from flying off the handle. It was obvious she wanted to go and give Brandyn a piece of her mind, but she abstained for the time being. Seeing Amanda so upset and comforting her was Mel’s top priority.

“Well, it’s a good thing I brought my little goodie basket. Come on. I’m rearranging these boxes, grabbing your mattress, and dragging it out here so we can watch some chick-flicks or something with violence so I don’t commit violence and we’re just going to have a great night,” said Mel as she moved to hop off of the counter.

At the mention of the mattress, Amanda’s heartrate shot through the roof as she remembered the boy. She hadn’t even broached the subject about finding the little boy, which was the real reason Amanda contacted Mel. Mel was maybe five steps away from the counter when Amanda snapped out of her mental spiral.

“Wait!” Amanda said as she leapt off of the counter and grasped Mel’s hand. Mel whipped around, alarmed, and stared blankly at her friend.

“Don’t scare me like that!” she scolded. “What? What’s wrong? Sweetie, if you’re worried about me seeing your messy room, I think we’re a bit past th-”

“There’s something else… that I didn’t tell you about. It’s… the main reason I called,” said Amanda. Her head was throbbing ever so slightly from the crying headache she put herself through and her mind was drawing a blank in how to explain everything to Mel. She had been so distracted in filling Mel in to recent events that telling her about the boy she found was the farthest thing from her priorities.

Mel’s body rotated to face her friend as she faced her, concern plastered all over her face.

“So, what is it? Are you pregnant? Well, you already said no to that one so nix that,” muttered Mel. “I’m stumped. What’s all the secret stuff about? What’s got you all in a twist? If it’s not the whole Brandyn thing.”

Amanda swallowed dryly. How was she going to do this?

Should she just show her the boy?

Did she need to warn the little child before introducing him to Mel?

Could Amanda simply convince Mel of what – who – was in the other room?

Or was that little boy a fever dream and some kind of hallucination? Would he vanish the moment Mel saw him?

Amanda wiped her eyes and made her decision.

“Okay, first… this is going to sound crazy, but I need you to just listen, okay?” Amanda stated. Her hands were starting to shake. Her heart was pounding and fluttering at the same time.

Mel nodded slowly in compliance, prompting Amanda to keep going.

“Second, I need you to swear you won’t tell another living soul. I’m still trying to figure everything out myself,” said Amanda. Mel’s eyes narrowed.

“Sweetie,” she said cautiously. “You’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

This was it.

Amanda sent a silent prayer she was doing the right thing as she clasped her friend’s hand, treating it like an anchor keeping her grounded in all of this confusion.

“I was at the park yesterday, the one right down the road, and… I found a kid,” said Amanda. Mel gawked and looked genuinely disturbed, but stayed quiet. “He was all alone and in really bad shape, and I didn’t see any parents nearby… so…”

Mel bristled immediately. “Amanda, you didn’t abduct a kid, did you?”

“What? No. Well… a bit. It’s complicated,” sputtered Amanda. Mel pulled her hand free from Amanda’s grasp and clasped Amanda’s face in her hands.

“Amanda, this is what crazy people do when they go off of the deep end!” Mel scolded in a hushed voice. “You’re supposed to call the police. You are supposed to contact social serviced. You’re not supposed to…”

“It’s… more complicated than that. He’s young… and small… and,” interrupted Amanda. She pried her friend’s hands away from her face as she took another deep breath. “It’s simpler if I just show you. Just… wait here – and don’t scream and just speak softly. He… he’s really timid.”

Mel looked absolutely mortified. She backed away from her friend and leaned against the kitchen counter. Amanda heard Mel muttering something that sounded like a prayer for strength and the right things to say as Amanda retreated to her bedroom.

The darkness of the room almost felt ominous. Amanda could only imagine what was going on in Mel’s head as Amanda vanished into the darkness and approached the little box. She listened hard and, immediately, felt her heart ache.

She could hear little whimpers and the shuffling of blankets.

It was the little boy, and he sounded scared.

Rightfully so. The last thing he remembered was falling asleep on Amanda’s chest only to wake up in the little box all alone. It was heart wrenching, but Amanda couldn’t hesitate now. She needed to act.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she said softly. Immediately, the sniffling stopped. “Did you sleep so good? I’m sorry I left. I’m here now.” Amanda flicked on her side lamp and watched as the little boy was illuminated. Sure enough, he had huddled under the blanket and looked up at her with his big, soft brown eyes. Seeing her made his eyes glossy as he sniffled again.

She wasn’t sure what prompted her to do it, but Amanda felt compelled to reach into the box and rest her fingers on top of the blanket by the boy. It was a pleasant shock when the little boy leaned forward and threw his arms around her middle finger, clutching it tightly as if he were hanging on for dear life.

It was a heartwarming sight.

“Shhh… you’re okay,” soothed Amanda. She carefully reached over her other hand and rubbed his back with her index finger, pressing tenderly to not disturb the bruises and scratches on the boy’s body. It took a minute, but he calmed down and pulled away to look up at Amanda, smiling sweetly as he did.

Amanda wanted to leave the boy be, but she knew he needed looking at by a professional. It would baffle poor Mel who was waiting in the other room, and she would probably have some kind of mental freakout.

It needed to be done though.

Amanda braced herself and crouched to not loom over the boy.

“Okay, sweetheart. Here’s the thing, okay? I have a friend who came over and who is going to help you, okay? She’s very nice and gentle. I won’t let her hurt you,” reassured Amanda. The boy seemed a little confused and continued clutching onto Amanda’s finger. “We’re going to go meet her now, and I’ll be there the whole time.”

Amanda wanted him to have a place to hide and elected to take the whole box, leaving her hand inside with him, as she stood and headed out toward her friend.

Amanda rounded the corner, taking cautiously small steps to not jostle the box, and noticed Mel standing with her back to the kitchen counter. Her eyes narrowed as she spotted Amanda with the box. It didn’t take much to know Mel’s mind was off to the races.

She would be feeling the same thing if Mel were the one walking out of her bedroom with her hand in a box, especially after the spiel about finding a boy in the park.

“Okay, Mel, like I said, don’t freak out,” said Amanda as she approached and set the box on the counter. The little boy squirmed and leaned away from Amanda’s finger while still clutching onto either side of it, obviously taking in his surroundings. Amanda wasn’t sure if it was just her imagination, but she could have sworn she felt the infinitesimal boy’s hands shaking as he held onto her.

Mel eyed her friend skeptically and approached the box. The moment she peered over the edge, Amanda felt the little boy shudder and pull behind her fingers. The small child’s eyes were wide as he mouth hung agape, and Mel was doing the same thing.

She backed away instantly, covering her mouth and biting onto the inside of her middle finger as she did so many times in the past. It was her coping technique to prevent a scream or gasp. Amanda was caught between a rock and a hard place. While the little boy whimpered and pulled the blanket over his body, Mel looked mildly faint.

“Mel, just take a breath. Please,” Amanda said as knelt and rubbed where she thought the boy’s back might be in an effort to comfort him. “Sweetie? It’s okay. This is Mel. She’s a friend.”

Mel took a few deep breaths and blinked hard, wiping her eyes with the heel of her palm before approaching the box again. She stared blankly at the little lump under the blankets. Amanda continued to encourage the little boy and he peaked out just enough to catch a glimpse of Mel. His light sandy brown hair barely poked out from under the blanket before ducking back under.

“Mandy, what the ever loving cuss is that?” breathed Mel. Amanda knew Mel was trying to speak as calmly and as quietly as she was able, but her nerves were starting to get the better of her. “Amanda?”

“Who… who is that… and I don’t know, Mel,” Amanda said as she continued to rub the boy’s back. “I found him in the park scared and alone. He’s in a bad way, but he’s been eating and drinking an-”

“Amanda… it… is… the… size… of… your… thumb,” said Mel harshly. “When you said you wanted my help, I thought this would be a fun girls night, not an acid trip down the rabbit hole. Like… it’s alive. Actually alive. What even is it?”

“He, Mel. He’s a little boy. Trust me. I found that out when I gave him a bath last night,” Amanda explained. “And I don’t know what or who he is. He seems to understand but hasn’t said anything. I did a little bit of research and didn’t find anything except for some kids fiction books and some kind of community for writing about small humans.”

“So… you think i… he… is some kind of human? A variant or something?” asked Mel, keeping her voice low.

“I have no idea, Mel, but I do know he’s hurt and probably hasn’t been taken care of for a few days. Please, could you just check him out for me and see if there’s anything I missed? Or, I don’t know, look through your medical files and case studies or whatever to see if anything like this has ever happened before?” Amanda’s request was an earnest one, and Mel couldn’t refuse her.

“I might be able to do something, but my equipment is definitely normal human sized,” mumbled Mel. She walked back to the front door where she dropped her things and pulled out her equipment. Amanda didn’t need to look at her friend to see her shaking her head repeatedly, as if that would wake her from this weird dream.

Amanda smiled as relief crept into her mind.

At least she wasn’t the only one seeing the little boy.

Once again, Amanda rubbed the child’s back and tried to coax him out.

“Come on, sweetie. It’s okay. Mel is not going to hurt you. She is just going to make sure you are not hurt. I’ll protect you. You can trust me,” Amanda encouraged. Something about her words once again made him squeeze her finger and peek out from under the blanket. His frightened gaze still wide and filled with concern. “She’s a friend, and she just wants to say hi. Can you say hi to her?”

Mel was back at Amanda’s side, stethoscope and other gear in her hands. She set them on the counter and, following Amanda’s lead, knelt beside her so she could barely peer into the box. Mel’s voice instantly changed from the fun and good time tone to her work voice.

“Hey there, I’m Dr. Melissa Hargrove. How are you?” It was obvious that Mel worked with children frequently because of the singsong tone she adopted to speak to the boy clutching onto Amanda’s finger. She was obviously still freaked out by the situation and by the little boy. Still, Amanda could hear her friend trying hard to keep calm and just treat the boy like any other child

“You’re pediatrician is showing,” Amanda teased.

“Shut up,” hissed Mel back, obviously teasing and trying to keep a level head. Amanda smiled down at the boy and looked back to Mel.

“Can you say hi? Just a little wave?” asked Amanda as she imitated the motion for the boy. He stared at Amanda, brow furrowed and still shaking. Then, after a moment, the little boy mimicked the motion, his miniscule hand poking out and waving at Amanda and Mel.

“Oh, now. We don’t get to be shy. We’re friends now, right? Amanda seems a bit worried about you. Could you show me your arms and legs? Just like this?” said Mel as she followed Amanda’s lead, just as the boy had, and showed her forearms and rotated them.

The boy looked to Amanda, who nodded in encouragement. He looked very uncomfortable with the suggestions, but proceeded to comply by holding out his shaking arms and rotating them quickly before pulling them back under the blanket and wrapping himself around Amanda’s finger once again.

“Good job!” Amanda encouraged. “Good! You’re doing so good. See? Dr. Mel didn’t hurt you. You’re safe.”

The boy looked uncertainly from Mel back to Amanda, but then his little lips turned upward into a charming little smile that was filled with uncertainty and a thread of trust. It was like he was saying that he was alright and that Amanda was right in that he was okay.

“Yes, safe,” she smiled. “Now, could you come out just a little? Dr. Mel needs to make sure the rest of you is okay.” The boy looked timid once again and withdrew ever so slightly, which made Amanda think of a good compromise. She carefully rotated her hand to reveal her palm. “Here. Climb onto my hand sweetheart. If you feel scared, I’ll pull the blanket over you. Okay?”

It took a minute, but the boy once again complied, his whole body shaking as he relinquished his grasp on Amanda’s finger and curled into her palm. The same tingling sensation ran up Amanda’s arm as the nearly imperceptible weight rested in her hand.

Such a beautiful, fragile life.

It was a long, slow process, but Amanda and Mel gave the little boy a full once-over. He had some trouble trusting the stethoscope and didn’t like lifting his shirt to show Mel his scrapes and scratches, but every time he felt uncomfortable, he pulled at Amanda’s fingers for her to make a tent until he was ready to come out again.

After an hour or so, they were done. The reward was some more jelly bread and a better tent for the boy to hide under while Mel and Amanda went over the results.

“So? How is he?” asked Amanda.

Mel exhaled a puff of air as she folded her arms across her chest. She spoke quietly to keep from scaring the boy, who was eating quietly nearby.

“He’s absolutely alive, which is astounding. He’s malnourished, for sure. If you fed him yesterday, it was probably the first food he’d had in two or three days. He’s dehydrated too. Those scratches could be anything from prickly briars to animals. I know you don’t like that idea, but he might’ve been attacked by some kind of critter at some point or another.

“I am also absolutely guessing because I’ve never seen anything or anyone like this before. No case studies. No out there one-offs. He seems exactly like any other patient except for him being an inch and a half tall, and that’s me being generous,” said Mel.

“So, you have no idea what he could be?” asked Amanda. Her insides sank when Mel shook her head. Amanda hid her face in her hands for a moment, collecting herself, as she exhaled slowly and glanced back at the box. “So, if he was out there for a little while, he probably doesn’t have anyone to take care of him?”

Mel shrugged tensely and shook her head. “I doubt it. I’m surprised anything that small could live in the elements on its own without natural defenses. Like, mice have claws and extra senses. Who knows what this kid is capable of.”

So, Mel doesn’t think he has any natural defenses and no one to take care of him.

Amanda’s insides churned and she hid her face again.

“Then what am I going to do? Do I take him back where I found him and see if his parents come back? Or do I just keep him? Heavens above, that last one sounds so illegal, but what choice do I have?” muttered Amanda, more to herself than to Mel.

When her friend didn’t answer, Amanda felt compelled to look at her, pulling her hands away from her face to read Mel’s expression, and it wasn’t a good one.

“Mel?”

The pediatrician exhaled and kept her arms folded across her chest.

“Look, Mandy, I can’t tell you what to do, but I want you to really think about this. This… kid… can’t be more than four years old. He’s small, which could mean it’s some kind of birth defect and he was abandoned or again, because of his size, something might’ve happened to his parents and they’re not coming back for him,” breathed Mel. “At any rate, how is he going to live? How are you going to live? Keep him in this little box? Use one of those creepy air tags to keep track of him if he runs off?”

Amanda looked at the box. Everything in her felt heavy. She knew the boy couldn’t survive on his own. All at once, she was in charge of another life that was just as precious as her life, if not more.

“You also have to think about if you’re going to tell anyone about him, which I almost think you should. I almost think you should go to the police and social services, like a normal person, but I have no idea what will happen to him if they get involved,” Mel muttered. Hearing this made Amanda’s heart clench.

“T-tell someone? Mel, you don’t understand. It took everything I had to tell you. I… don’t think I could tell anyone about him and it end up well. I mean… worst case scenario is that he gets taken away to some lab and tested and experimented on. I… I can’t put him through that…” Just the thought broke Amanda’s heart.

“So, what? You’re going to keep him? Raise him?” asked Mel. It wasn’t going to be easy, but it was what felt right. Really, it was the only option.

Amanda’s lips pressed together to form a thin line as she forced herself to nod.

“Yes. I mean… I can’t do anything else. There’s no other option.” Her mind was made up. Her demeanor alone told Mel all she needed to know, which was terrifying.

“Amanda, you’re being serious? Are you going to send him to school? Take him to work? Open his first bank account? He doesn’t even have a birth certificate. You’d need to file for a delayed birth certificate for some kind of home birth and then you’d have to essentially forge documents saying he is yours, which is a crime if you weren’t aware,” reminded Mel as she stepped closer to Amanda. “I’m not trying to convince you out of it, I’m just waying there are some things you have to consider.”

Amanda sighed and looked back at the box.

She knew there were going to be risks.

There was a chance this could all blow up in her face if something went wrong. With her divorce so recent, would it look suspicious if she suddenly had a child.

Amanda had to think about all of this carefully and plan out a good story if she was going to cover all of her bases.

She was certain about this though – and she wanted to help raise this boy.

“I know, and he’s worth the risks. You know some doulas and midwives, right?”

“Mandy!”

“I’m not asking you to be in on this. I’m asking you to put me in contact with people who might be willing to help me out with this,” said Amanda. “Please, Mel? He… he has no one else.”

It obviously made her uncomfortable. This entire evening was not going in any direction that Mel could have predicted. Ultimately, however, Mandy was her friend. Biting her lip and huffing slightly, she nodded.

“If this gets back to me, I’m coming at you with my full vampiric powers. I’ll send over the stuff you’ll need and some of the numbers to get in touch with others who might be willing to help,” muttered Mel. Amanda dropped to her knees as tears she didn’t know were in her eyes spilled over onto her cheeks.

“Thank you.”

“Oh, don’t thank me yet. This is just the beginning. I don’t know how you always manage to get into this situations, Mandy. I hope you know what you’re doing,” said Mel. “Until then, we’ll keep him secret and safe.”

Deep down, Amanda hoped she was doing the right thing too.

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue

Beginning

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hongcherry · 2 years

Text

By Your Side || cs

"The quiet guy who lives next door to you hardly seems to notice you, but you can't help but notice him—he's gorgeous. You've given up all hope of striking up a conversation until he comes to your rescue one night after your ex shows up at your house, drunk and looking to take you back, whether you want him or not." - Prompt

🩹 Pair: San x Reader(f)

🩹 Rating/Genre: NC-17; Fluff, slight comfort, slice of life, neighbor au, strangers to lovers

🩹 Word Count: 6.4k

🩹 Warnings: Minor injury (cuts/scrapes), small amount of blood, intoxication/drunk character, insinuating cheating, cursing

🩹 Author’s Note: This is my first non-BTS fic, so I’m nervous! Ateez has really stolen my heart. They’re now one of my ult groups, so expect to see more of them on my blog heh. I’m excited to start writing for them. I have more Ateez fic ideas in mind that I’m looking forward to writing in the future! As always, I hope you enjoy it.

ateez masterlist | main masterlist

The slope of his nose was perfectly leveled. His hair was straight and parted in the middle to expose some of his forehead. His lips rested in a slight pout; his brows furrowed as he struggled to slide his key correctly into the keyhole of his mailbox. You would have offered to lend him a hand, but he soon got the key in successfully. The view of his face was covered by the mailbox’s door.

You should have torn your gaze from his profile. If he caught you staring, it would be too awkward to extract yourself from the situation. You would stumble over your words as you tried to formulate an excuse. However, he was like a magnet. Your eyes stayed glued to him, scanning what little you could see now. Perhaps it was the fact his hair color had suddenly changed from a bright pink to a dark black. Although you enjoyed his magenta hair, the black hair made him more alluring. While the obvious change in his appearance caught your attention, you couldn’t deny that another reason why you were so fascinated with the man was that he was extremely handsome. From his soft eyes to his sharp jawline; it was difficult to ignore him.

San has been your neighbor for almost a year now. Recalling his move-in day brought a smile to your face. Not just because he was your gorgeous new neighbor, but because his friends came and helped him move his furniture and boxes. You were leaving your apartment to run a grocery errand and had stumbled upon yelling whispers. His friends were trying to stay quiet amongst their chaos, but it was clear whispering was not their forte. Although you didn’t stay for long, you had gathered they were arguing about how to get your neighbor’s couch through his door. Through the havoc, you had caught your new neighbor rolling his eyes with a smile on his face as he carried a box inside behind them. They were finished by the time you had come back from your grocery shopping. And even though you didn’t see your neighbor and his friends, you could faintly hear them through the door. Usually, the noise would slowly boil your blood, but it was hard to get irritated by the contagious laughing next door.

A soft click and the rattling of keys tore you from your memories. Much to your horror, you were still staring at your neighbor. You ripped your gaze to your own open mailbox and hastily grabbed what little mail you had to distract yourself. However, your stare didn’t go unnoticed as you swore you saw his lips curl into a small smile before he left without a word.

Your shoulders sagged when he was out of your vision, eyes dropping down to the two envelopes in your hand. You had never been the greatest with keeping up with checking your mail, but after your neighbor made himself a home next door, getting your mail was the highlight of your days. It became an excuse to get a glimpse of the eye candy living adjacent to you.

Eventually, you would grow out of this strange attraction you had for your neighbor. At least you hoped you would. You had realized trying to start a conversation was harder than you imagined. It wasn’t because he gave you the cold shoulder, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to say something to him. Every time you had built up the courage, your throat would close up and prevent any words from escaping. You wouldn’t be surprised if he thought you were a creep at this point. He never struck a conversation either. Maybe you had already scared him away.

The thought had a sigh leave your lips. You didn’t want to do that.

You shut your mailbox and twisted the key, locking it. You stared at the small, metal door. Today will be the last day for a while, you told the inanimate object. You were going to give your neighbor some space.

It was time to let go of the silly crush you had formed. It wasn’t going to go anywhere.

Choi San was a quiet man.

He kept to himself and was never the cause for any ruckus that occurred in your apartment complex. Well, he may have been if he was with his friends, but never alone was he any trouble. He was an enigma, and you couldn’t help but feel more drawn to him because of it. You wanted to know him for more than a pretty face.

Five weeks passed when you didn’t check your mailbox every other day. You had been accustomed to visiting your mailbox frequently, so it felt strange not to. Any time you had seen San, it was simply through passing. He would be leaving his apartment while you were entering yours or vice versa. You kept your gaze averted, forcing yourself to resist the urge to steal a glance. It wasn’t easy. Though, getting rid of any addiction was always difficult. No matter how weird it sounded, you had come to terms you were addicted to San. At least, you were addicted to the attraction you felt when you spotted him. You shouldn’t have been so down the first time you skipped going to your mailbox. Whatever trance you were lulled under in his presence was too strong to ignore.

You shook your head to yourself when you realized your thoughts were drifting to the man next door. Again. Goodness, you were hopeless.

You snatched your phone from the counter and strolled to your TV. You sunk into the cushions, pulling the blanket that was slung over the couch’s arm over your body. Despite it being the weekend, you had no plans on going out.

Last weekend was a friend’s birthday, and you were still trying to regain the energy you had expelled. The nights were fun, but you needed a few weeks to recuperate.

Twenty minutes passed before knocks at your door startled you. A quick glance at your phone’s clock informed you it was half-past eleven.

You were going to ignore the knocks as it was late, but the sounds persisted.

Sighing, you pushed off your blanket and shuffled to the door. You quietly glanced through the peephole and cursed inwardly when you saw who it was.

Normally, you would turn away from the door, but a part of you was worried about why your ex-boyfriend was knocking at your door so late. The relationship ended a little rocky, but you didn’t hate him. You hadn’t talked to him since and avoided his friends in case you would accidentally run into him. Because you didn’t dislike him enough to feed him to the wolves, you opened your door.

Hyunwoo’s eyes widen at the sound of your door opening.

“Oh, I’m sh-o glad you a-answered,” he sighed in relief, hand leaning against the frame of your door. Most of his weight was on that hand. You were sure if you moved it, he would lose his balance.

There was something off with him.

“Are you okay?” you questioned moving your hands slightly in front of you in case he was to fall.

“Peachy,” he answered. He tilted his head as his eyes took in your night attire. The long shirt and short shorts weren’t anything designer, but it had Hyunwoo smiling.

“You not occupied, are you? ‘M just wanna shee you. Was ‘bout’a go home, but Kwan dropped’e off here. I don’t remember telling ‘im that though,” Hyuneoo rambled, his other hand waving aimlessly as he spoke. His gaze dropped as his brows furrowed at his last sentence. He looked confused suddenly.

The more he spoke, the more you realized he was intoxicated. If it weren’t for his slurring, you would know from the smell of alcohol coming from his mouth.

It was late and you did not wish to spend your weekend taking care of your drunk ex.

You glanced behind him to see if his friend had come along too—hopefully sober. Unfortunately, all you saw was empty space.

“Where’s Kwan?” you wondered. Please say waiting in the car.

“Gone. Sh-aid ‘m betta’ off here.” Hyunwoo looked up at you again, face no longer scrunched with confusion.

“Is he coming back?”

Hyunwoo shrugged and looked down when he heard something drop. Following his gaze, you saw his phone on the floor. Before you could pick it up for him, he moved the arm resting against the door frame to grab it.

“Wait-” you tried to stop him.

“’S’kay,” he mumbled as he reached down. Barely a second later, he was losing his balance.

Your hands reached out to grab his shoulders, but his knees had already hit the floor.

“Owww,” he whined loudly, making you do a quick glance at the other doors around you. Great. Someone’s going to hear that.

“Is Kwan sober? I’ll call him and have him pick you back up.” You grabbed his phone and stuffed it in your pocket then pulled Hyunwoo up from the floor. You helped him lean against the wall outside your door.

“N-no!” Hyunwoo exclaimed and reached a hand to stop your movements. Your eyes widen at his fast reaction. “Not leaving ‘til you talk to me. Want’o talk.”

His head leaned back, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed harshly. His hand still gripped your wrist. Despite your wishes, it appeared you would have to babysit him until you could figure out what to do.

“Why ‘ou look sh-ad?” Hyunwoo pouted. The hand on your wrist slowly moved up to your face. You grabbed his hand and stopped it from caressing your face. You moved it back to his side. “Always hated sh-eeing you sh-ad.”

You ignored his words.

“Let’s get you inside while I call a ride for you,” you suggested and started to slowly move to your door. Your phone was inside, and you didn’t want to leave him outside alone. You could drive him back to his home, but you didn’t want to be responsible for him any longer than you had to. You weren’t sure why Kwan would leave him here like this, but you weren’t happy with that knowledge.

Forgetting he was unstable, Hyunwoo hastily pushed off the wall to stop you from going inside. Although you didn’t understand what he was fearful of, you guessed it was because he wanted to stop you from calling someone.

“Hyunw-” you gasped as you felt him grip your waist firmly and begin to stumble.

Unlike before, he fell with you in his hold.

You staggered to the floor.

“Shit,” you hissed as you felt the heel of your palms burn from scraping the concrete floor. There was also an aching pain in your ass from falling backward on the hard ground.

Suddenly, the sound of a door clicking open stole your attention from the stinging in your hands.

Standing with a startled expression was your handsome neighbor. His hair was wavy and fluffy, making you want to ruffle his locks. He wore black sweatpants with white stripes down the sides and a grey muscle tee. You wondered how such a cute face could be on a body like that. The contrast was eye-catching.

After four weeks of barely seeing him, you wanted to stay seated on the floor with your eyes glued to his. Unfortunately, or fortunately, you didn’t have the chance because Hyunwoo’s voice brought you back to your situation.

“Don’t worry,” Hyunwoo reassured your neighbor, hand waving him off as he tried to stand up. “Jus’a’lil accsh-ident.”

San’s expression soon turned into concern as his eyes darted from Hyunwoo to you. He quickly moved forward and held out his hand.

“Are you hurt?” he asked as he waited for you to accept. His voice was tender like the gaze he had cast toward you.

Even though now was your chance to feel his skin upon yours, part of you didn’t want to. You were too embarrassed at having been caught on the floor with your drunk ex somewhere behind you. You couldn’t even entertain your lingering crush on him at the moment.

Because you didn’t want to make the situation any worse, you took his hand anyway and allowed him to pull you up. His hand was large around yours and cool to the touch. You muttered a thank you as he lifted you. He was stronger than you imagined, and you accidentally stumbled from the strength he used to help you stand.

His hands rested on your shoulders to steady you while yours came to rest on his biceps. A slight blush bloomed on your cheeks at the feel of his bare skin, and you quickly retracted your hands.

“I’m sorry,” he said sheepishly then glanced behind you, not bothered with you having touched him.

“It’s okay,” you murmured. “I’m okay-”

Abruptly, San quickly held out a hand and grabbed Hyunwoo, stopping him from falling on you again and dragging you all to the floor. San’s other hand still rested on your shoulder.

He looked at you after studying Hyunwoo for a moment. “Can you walk?”

Once you nodded, San moved the hand that was on you to grab Hyunwoo. He could hold him up better.

“Did you want him in your home, or should I rest him against the wall?” San questioned, quickly assessing Hyunwoo’s state. Although you both have never spoken to each other, the only form of exchange were head nods, you had heard his voice on occasions. Sometimes while he was on the phone or if his friends came over. Nevertheless, his voice was as smooth as you remembered. You would have indulged in the way it comforted you if it weren’t for this particular situation.

“’M can walk!” Hyunwoo scoffed and attempted to push San’s hands from him. “Yn, tell ‘im to let me go.”

“Follow me,” you quickly said and ignored your ex’s whining. You didn’t want another neighbor to see what was happening. You stepped inside your apartment again, holding the door open as San helped Hyunwoo stagger in. You gestured to the couch then shut the door.

“Whatcha’ doing, man? I sh-aid ‘m can walk!”

San disregarded Hyunwoo’s pleads as he guided him to your couch. He eased your ex down on your couch, having to quickly push him back onto the cushions when Hyunwoo tried to stand again.

“You’ll be fine. Just sit for a while,” San said calmly to Hyunwoo, yet there was a firmness to it that made it sound more like a command than a light suggestion.

Hyunwoo huffed in his face but stayed seated finally.

“Yn,” Hyunwoo called. “He ca’eave now.” He gestured to San who was hovering near the couch in case Hyunwoo decided to kiss the floor again.

You glanced at San, wanting to tell him you were okay now, but part of you didn’t want him to go. Whether it be because you needed his strength if Hyunwoo were to fall again or if you simply wanted to be in his presence without standing near your mailbox.

As if San could sense your hesitancy, he offered, “I can stay if you want. I don’t mind.”

“But I do!” Hyunwoo protested.

“That’d be nice,” you sighed, a headache forming.

“It’s not ‘ike you’o ignore me,” Hyunwoo interjected; his body sagged against the cushions as if feeling defeated.

“May you give us a moment? Sorry. You can sit over there,” you asked San and pointed at your dining room across the room.

“Of course,” he answered politely and took a seat at your dining table. He pulled out his phone and averted his attention from you. You figured he did that more so out of courtesy than boredom.

You moved closer to the couch to grab your phone.

“Why did Kwan leave you here?” you asked Hyunwoo. One of his hands reached up to grab your forearm. He stared at you with half-lidded eyes, lips tugged down in a frown.

“Something ‘bout me bein’ annoying. Sh-aid I needed to talk’o you.” He tugged, rougher than you believed he meant to, but it caused you to fall next to him on the couch. For some reason, your eyes quickly glanced at San, but he was still looking at his phone screen.

“Okay,” you said slowly. “What did you want to talk about?”

As you waited for his answer, you scrolled through your contacts to find Kwan.

“Us-h,” Hyunwoo said and gently rubbed your forearm. When he noticed your attention was heavily directed to your phone instead of him, he placed a hand on yours that was holding the device.

You finally glanced in his direction.

“Maybe we should talk about it another time,” you lied and tried to keep your voice low. Even though it was probably best to talk about that topic when he was sober, you didn’t want to talk about it at all. You felt the conversation would be redundant as you’ve already talked things through. At least, that’s how you felt.

“Pfft,” he scoffed and pushed himself farther into your cushions. Maybe he thought he could embed himself in your furniture so he couldn’t leave. “You’re ignorin’eh too much for me’o believe that.”

“Hyunwoo,” you sighed and gently removed his hand from yours. “It’s been a year already. I thought you moved on.”

As discreetly as you could, you began searching through your contacts. When you found Kwan’s name, you sent a quick text telling him to pick Hyunwoo up if he was sober.

“A year?” Hyunwoo wondered. The look on his face showed he didn’t realize how long it’s been. You barely have seen Hyunwoo after the breakup–could count the number of interactions you had with him on your hands. Sometimes it was at a shared friend’s event or through passing at local stores since you both lived in the same city. Regardless, it was never more than 15 minutes at a time.

Hyunwoo’s shoulders sagged, eyes squeezing shut as if to erase that thought from his mind. “Right,” he mumbled more to himself.

A vibration in your hand turned your gaze away from your ex. Luckily, Kwan was fine to come back. A silent sigh left your lips as you felt relieved that you wouldn’t have to drive him home.

“Get some rest, okay?” you said. You wanted to say you’d talk about it later, but you knew you didn’t want to, so you refrained from the offer.

Hyunwoo’s energy must have decreased exceptionally. He simply nodded and let his head fall back. Gently, you adjusted him so he was laying down. You waited for a few minutes in case he woke up and became needy again. When he didn’t, you carefully got up, placed his phone next to him, and went to where San was seated.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with this, but thank you for helping,” you said as you sat down across from him.

San tucked his phone into his pocket and sent you a reassuring smile. Your eyes flickered to his small dimples. You never saw them too much, but they always had your heart warm in your chest. They made him look much cuter.

“You don't need to apologize,” San assured. “I’m sorry you had to get stuck with your drunk friend.”

You opened your mouth to correct him, but why should you? It didn’t matter if San thought he was your friend or your ex. The details were irrelevant.

Instead, you said, “I’m still grateful you helped me.”

“‘Course,” he murmured.

His gaze moved to your clasped hands on the table. You started to feel conscious of them under his stare and began to tuck them beneath the table. However, San was quick to stop the movement.

He slowly turned your hands over, palms up. You looked at him confused.

“You should clean this,” he instructed kindly and traced a small area on your hands.

You averted your gaze down quickly.

On both palms were red areas with scratch marks. The areas weren’t big, but you could still see the worry in San’s eyes.

The warmth in your chest spread at the fact he cared about your wellbeing even though he didn’t really know you and the injuries weren’t major.

“Come,” he said and carefully rose from his chair. The layout of the apartment must be similar to his because he navigated to the kitchen sink with ease. That or he saw it when he sat at the table.

Silently, he turned on the facet, checking the temperature several times as the seconds passed. You watched with more attention required. You had never imagined the neighbor you’ve been smitten with would be in your apartment. Let alone helping you clean a wound.

You took the time to stare at his profile while his focus was on the running water. He had small stud earrings and his skin was light honey. His hair fell in front of his face, the wavy locks concealing his eyes. You were partly glad for that so he couldn’t see you staring…again.

Once San was satisfied, he hastily washed his hands and then held out a hand. You quickly placed a hand in his. Probably a little too fast, but you didn’t want to be caught distracted.

He led your hand under the water. His movements were gentle as he cleaned your scrapes. For someone who was physically strong, he knew when to be tender. After he cleaned both hands, he dried them off with a clean towel you had handed him.

“Do you have band-aids?” he asked while drying your hands.

“I’ll be fine,” you brushed off his question. Not because you didn’t have any, but because you already felt he did enough. You didn’t want him to think you were totally useless.

San chuckled lowly and peered at your face through his hair. You had the urge to move his hair to see him clearly but resisted.

“I know,” he said, “but just let me play doctor for a few more minutes.”

His teasing tone caught you off guard and you lowered your head to hide the small smile forming on your lips.

“I-I’ll go get them then,” you replied and left to retrieve them before he could stop you. You could hear the faint sound of his laughter as you moved to your bathroom.

You wished you weren’t so nervous being in his presence but after months of admiring from afar, you couldn’t stop fumbling over your words and thoughts.

When you came back, San was leaning against the kitchen counter, hands resting behind him on the countertop. The position had his shirt stretch slightly across his torso. While he had broad shoulders, his waist tapered to give him an attractive figure. His gaze was on your ex sleeping on your couch. You couldn’t read his expression and part of you wondered what he was thinking.

“Band-aids, Dr. Choi,” you announced and held out the box.

San turned his head to you, a smile forming on his lips at your joke. He stood up straighter at the title and took the box from your hold.

“Thank you, Ms. Yn,” he played along. He pulled out some band-aids, picked the correct sizes, then started to open them.

“Now I’m not sure if you’re my patient or my assistant. I don’t think it’s appropriate for doctors to ask their patients to bring them items.”

You giggled at his dilemma and held out your hands when he gestured for them.

“I can be whatever you want me to be,” you teased, not taking the time to consider the multiple meanings that one sentence held.

Your response had San faltering in his movements, thumbs paused as he was in the middle of pressing the ends of the band-aid flat against your skin.

“I-I meant that I didn’t care if I was a patient or an a-”

You stuttered as you tried to explain yourself; however luckily for you, loud knocking interrupted you.

The booming sounds of the knocks startled San and he quickly jumped away from you, letting the second band-aid flutter to the floor and a small yelp escaped his mouth. You bit your lower lip to stop smiling at his reaction. You hadn’t even considered that San might be easily scared. Before you could go down the rabbit hole of thinking of his other traits, another knock emitted.

There was a groan near the couch, and you realized the knocking must be Kwan.

You quickly went to the door and swung it open, not bothering to look through the peephole.

“Long time no see,” Kwan said with a smile that didn’t seem genuine. You had met him through Hyunwoo and while he liked you initially, he started to dislike you after your and Hyunwoo’s breakup.

“Hey,” you greeted. “He’s on the couch sleeping. I can help move him to the car.”

You stepped aside to let him in. As you were about to guide him to where Hyunwoo was, he stopped you.

“What did he tell you?”

“What?” you questioned as you shut the door.

“Do you know why I left him here?” Kwan asked, not bothering to explain himself. His voice was pretty hushed. Maybe he didn’t want to wake Hyunwoo.

“Something about him being annoying,” you recalled.

Kwan scoffed. “That, but also because he’s been so pathetic lately. All he talks about is you and how you broke his heart.”

You gave him a confused expression; you didn’t like where this was going.

“The breakup was mutual. How could I br-”eak his heart? You stopped yourself from asking because there was no point. You knew Kwan would just formulate a reason that would make you feel guilty. Although you didn’t want to hurt Hyunwoo, you both ended the relationship in agreement. You were simply going in different directions in life.

“Look,” you sighed. “He isn’t my responsibility, and he needs to move on. We’re not getting back together.”

You stood your ground even when Kwan sent a cold glare in your direction.

“Even if we did, you think I would be happy? You think me being unhappy would make Hyunwoo happy?” you tried to explain.

“You could be happy if you just-”

“No,” you stopped him with a raised hand. “I’ve moved on. Hyunwoo is a good guy-” Kwan scoffed. “-But I don’t see a future with him.”

“You’re so-!”

“Kwan?”

Both you and Kwan moved further into the apartment at his name being called. Hyunwoo sat up on the couch and began to stand. For once you were grateful for Hyunwoo. You didn’t want to hear the rest of Kwan’s sentence; it was most likely filled with profanities.

“Hey, buddy.” Kwan moved to help Hyunwoo stand. “You ready to go?”

Hyunwoo hummed and then looked at you.

“Call me later, ‘kay?” He spoke slowly, voice a little groggy.

You stilled at the question. You would call if he wasn’t going to try to convince you to get back together, but every conversation after the breakup consisted of him dropping hints of wanting to be with you again.

You must have stayed silent for too long because Hyunwoo exhaled a defeated sigh. Kwan sent you another scowl, threatening with his gaze to say yes.

“It’s fine. Never mind,” Hyunwoo said and waved his hand as if to push away the question that was hanging in the air.

“Why can’t you just talk to him like an adult, Yn?” Kwan interrupted rudely.

“It’s fine, Kwan,” Hyunwoo repeated. “‘M not gonna’ force-”

“No, Hyun, you deserve a simple talk with her.” Kwan directed his attention to you again. “It’s the least she can do.”

You stared at him incredulously. He’s acting as if you cheated on Hyunwoo with ten guys, but you didn’t do such a thing. Why would Hyunwoo agree to break up if he really didn’t want to?

“There’s nothing else to say,” you argued.

“Evidently that’s a lie because Hyunwoo’s been moping-”

“How is that my fault?” you snapped.

“Are you serious, Yn?!” Kwan exclaimed.

“If she doesn’t want to call, then she doesn’t want to call.”

The new voice had all three of you turning toward the kitchen. You had forgotten San was still here in the midst of your personal chaos. San’s once calm demeanor turned fierce. You had never seen this side of San, but you had a suspicion he was holding back on saying more.

Kwan let out a dry laugh.

“Ah, I see,” he said and shook his head. “When did you find him? A day before you broke up with Hyun?”

San clenched his jaw, body tensed as he forced himself to stay put when all he wanted to do was kick him out. Maybe not with force... Unless he had to. He saw himself as a lover, not a fighter, but that didn't matter if you were in danger.

It was clear Kwan had made a false persona of you. You were sure he believed you had done something sinister to Hyunwoo that led to the breakup. Though, it also made you realize that Hyunwoo let him believe that. Did he even try to save your face?

“I think it’s time for you to go. Thanks for picking him up,” you said and disregarded Kwan’s gibe. You didn't need, nor want, to listen to him anymore.

You moved toward the door, but Hyunwoo and Kwan didn’t follow.

“Will you call him?” Kwan asked sternly. He wasn’t going to leave unless you agreed.

Exasperated, you opened your mouth to say fine, but San cut you off.

“It’s clear she has nothing more to say. Drop it and leave.”

“The question wasn’t directed to you, pretty boy,” Kwan said, rolling his eyes.

“Yet you’re meddling with issues they need to solve on their own,” San retorted. His eyes were glued to Kwan’s. If San had acted like this when you first saw him, you would have avoided him at all costs. Everyone has their dark side, per se, but San’s was much darker than you had imagined for someone who seemed like a loving cat.

“I have to because Hyun won’t gro-!”

“Let’s just go. M’ head’s killing me, man,” Hyunwoo said, body struggling to stay upright any longer. Although he wasn’t completely sober, the nap at least knocked some sense in him.

Kwan pressed his lips together but began to walk toward the door. You held the door open and watched as they made their way to the exit.

As they passed you, Hyunwoo tripped. You reached out to grab him, but Kwan held a hand to stop yours. The quick action had startled you and you pulled back. You could hear San’s hurried footsteps as he came closer. You weren’t entirely sure why he was suddenly by your side, but you guessed it was in case Kwan tried to do something.

“Don’t touch him,” Kwan snarled at you and led him out the door without your help.

The second they were out the door, you shut and locked it.

You pressed your back against the door and inhaled a deep breath. Your eyes stilled on the ceiling, trying to ease your tense shoulders as the seconds ticked by.

“Do they visit often?” San asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

“No. They haven’t been here in a long time,” you said and glanced down at your feet. Why did Kwan have to stir up unwanted emotions?

“If they come back, you can just call me and I’ll come over,” he said earnestly.

“They won’t harm me. I don’t need to burden you.”

“They are capable of it, though, and I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

You looked up at San, head tilting as you tried to force yourself to be rational. The sentence had butterflies flapping in your stomach that you tried to ignore. He was just being friendly–probably would say that to anyone. Knowing how sweet and protective he seemed to be could confirm that suspicion.

“Thanks,” you muttered. “But I still don-”

“What’s your number?”

You stuttered incoherent words as you tried to grasp his question. In the back of your head, you knew he was asking so you could call him if you needed his help. Though, you couldn’t stop the thought of him asking you this for another reason.

“Should I just give you mine instead?” San chuckled softly when you didn’t answer right away.

“No- I mean sure- No, wait, I can just give you mine.”

San laughed again and pulled his phone out. He navigated his way to his contacts and added a new one.

“Number?” he asked again.

This time, you gave it to him.

“I sent you a text so you have my number. I’m serious; let me know if they come back. You won’t be bothering me. I’ll probably come over if I hear them anyway.”

“Why?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

San gave you a small smile. “Because I can’t let my mail buddy get hurt.”

“W-what?” you gasped and looked at him with wide eyes. San laughed, a corner of his lips quirking up in a smirk. The sound of his laughter had you smiling involuntarily; however, they quickly dipped down when he continued.

“You’re not very discrete,” San said teasingly.

“What would I need to be discreet about?”

“You know, I kept thinking I had food or something on my face,” he started to say, “but then I just realized you simply enjoyed looking at me.”

San grinned wider, eyes turning into crescents as he watched your expression change into horror and embarrassment.

“I’m s-sorry!” you said. You were uncertain what else to say and you sure weren’t going to admit the reason why. The embarrassment you felt now would last a solid six months, even more. You didn’t want to add additional time. However, it seemed San was having fun seeing you flustered.

“Why sorry? Who said I didn’t like it?”

A small yelp left your lips, and you brought your hands to your face to hide your flushed cheeks.

“Why haven’t you been coming to the mailboxes lately? I was getting worried.” Although San’s tone was still light, you could catch the hint of concern.

“I went.” Not entirely a lie because you did go, but very briefly and at times that no one would be there. “Must have missed each other.”

San quirked an eyebrow up in disbelief. “I highly doubt that,” he said and gave you an encouraging smile to tell the truth.

“F-fine!” you huffed and pulled your hands from your face. “I didn’t want to creep you out.”

San stared at you long enough to make you feel awkward. You were about to apologize again when San spoke.

“Why would a pretty girl staring at me creep me out? I found it endearing.”

You were sure your cheeks were already pink. Now, they’re bright red.

“Don’t say that,” you said bashfully.

“Mhm,” he hummed as if in thought and kept a smile on his face. “Very cute indeed.”

His reply made you feel he was talking to himself. You hadn’t prepared for San to say such things. Even when you daydreamed of interactions with him, they never turned out like this.

“Would you be okay with hanging out together sometime? Not just when you’re in need of a knight in– Actually, I guess I would be a doctor in sweats instead of a knight.”

You laughed at his joke, recalling how he had tended to your wounds ever so carefully. The lighthearted tone had eased your nervousness.

“Yeah, I would like that,” you answered with a smile of your own.

San nodded. “I’m glad to hear that. How about tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” you asked, surprised. You were excited to finally be able to learn more about San, but tomorrow felt too soon. You needed time to mentally prepare.

“About five? I would say earlier, but it’s already so late that I doubt either one of us will want to be up early.”

At the mention of time, you quickly reached for your phone to check. However, you had left it somewhere and from where you stood, you couldn’t see the clock in your kitchen.

“It’s two,” San said.

“O-oh wow. I’m sorry I kept you up.” You didn’t realize how long it’s been–how long you’ve been keeping San from sleeping.

“You apologize a lot, huh?” San observed to which you blushed again. “It’s okay, really. Don’t stress about it. I wanted to stay. So, what do you say? Tomorrow at five?”

“Where will we go?”

San shrugged. “I haven’t thought about that yet. Just wear whatever you feel comfortable in. I’m sure you’ll look b- I’m sure it won’t be anything fancy.”

San’s cheeks turned their own shade of rose as he quickly changed his sentence. Despite not knowing what he was going to say, you felt your heart beat a little quicker with the thought of what he had planned.

I’m sure you’ll look beautiful.

It may not be exact, but you let yourself indulge in what could be a false statement because it made you feel good. His pink cheeks were a good hint that you were probably correct, though.

It felt good to have him finally feel shy. It gave you some confidence.

“Okay then,” you said. “Tomorrow at five.”

San beamed at you. You couldn’t wait to see more of his smile.

“If they ever come back, call me. I don’t care if it’s four in the morning, okay? You have my number.”

“Okay,” you said and reluctantly moved off the door so you could open it.

“You mean it?”

“I do.”

And you did.

Because Choi San was such a caring person you could feel how genuine he was being. You hadn’t wanted to call him at first because you weren’t sure if he was just saying that to be polite. However, you could sense he was being serious with every fiber in his body. Plus, you believed him when he said he would come on his own accord if he heard anyone disturb you.

You slowly opened the door for him and watched as he stepped outside, hands digging into his pocket to retrieve his keys.

Before he stepped into his own apartment, he glanced at you.

“Sleep well, Ms. Yn,” he said sweetly.

You giggled at his reference. Playing along, you replied, “Goodnight, Dr. Choi.”

The warm smile on his handsome face was the last thing you could think of as you fell asleep, eager and anxious for tomorrow.

You weren’t sure where your and San’s relationship was going to go, whether it will be platonic or not. One thing was for sure, though. You wanted Choi San in your life simply because he brought a light you weren’t going to be able to replicate. And that alone was cherishable enough.

ATEEZ COMEBACK LET’S GO!!!!! I’M SO HYPED FOR IT. THESE PROMOTIONS ARE CREATIVE AND INCREDIBLE. I’m extremely amazed by the marketing strategies–unannounced posters, AirDropped codes??? These trailers for their movie comeback? Hello?! Stan Ateez lol. I love that they’re using their storyline to guide their promos. Also, my favorite stage on Kingdom was their Rhythm Ta performance, so I’m very anxious to see what all they’ve been working on. Anyway, I’m just excited to get more into the Ateez community. I need more fellow Atinys in my life! Please be my friend 😫 lol

Thank you for reading! 🧡

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY. Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

#san fanfic #san fluff #ateez fanfic #san comfort #ateez fluff #ateez comfort #choi san x reader #san x reader #ateez neighbor au #san neighbor au #ateez au #mimikookie writes #q #ateez ff #choi san fanfic

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neonghostlights · 1 year

Text

A/N: I'm taking a break I swear.

Summary: You haven’t been the same since you woke up in the hospital with memory loss after the earthquake hit Hawkins. When strange things start happening and you feel like you’ve started losing your mind, a group of strangers offer to help. Even though you’ve never met them before, they seem to know you better than you think.

Wordcount: 4k

Warnings: Nosebleed, brief mention of church, Angst, Readers kind of mean to Eddie but she is starting to go really downhill and it's just gonna get worse from here. 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI

Series Masterlist

I am no longer doing a tag list for this series.

Part Seven

Saturday, September 27th, 1986

The afternoon sun beat down on the top of your head. The sweet tea you were sipping on kept you from getting too overheated. The weather would start to change soon. It was nice to enjoy some warmth before the fall.

Eddie had the upper half of his body under the hood of your car. The hem of his black t-shirt rising slightly to show the pale expanse of his lower back. You could catch a sliver of the band of his boxers peeking out.

Had you shut yourself away from the outside world so much that a pair of blue checkered boxes were scandalizing? If he kept this up you were going to have to start fanning yourself like the women in those old films to keep yourself from swooning.

The past hour of Eddie working had been silent, making you wonder if he even remembered you were out there with him.

When he showed up to your house he didn’t mention anything about your episode the other day. His eyes traced your body up and down, like he was making sure nothing was out of place. Like he was afraid asking if you were okay would set you off. When he saw everything still in place, he asked you to sit with him while he worked.

Eddie peeked over his shoulder at you, catching your shameful staring. The sides of his mouth twitched at the sight.

You diverted your eyes quickly, pretending to be entranced by the hunk of oiled metal in his hand.

“So,” you started off timidly, hoping he wouldn’t bring up your gawking. “What’s left for the car?”

Eddie turned around to face you fully at this, arms crossed over his chest.

“Why? Are you trying to get rid of me?” He asked smugly.

“No,” you said firmly. “Just wondering. I feel bad for not asking questions about what you’re doing. I also need to know how much I’m going to owe you for all this.” You waved your hand at your car.

“Well, not sure on the price yet. I’ll let you know when I know. There’s a few things I’m waiting for to arrive at the shop that I ordered. Plus, I’m trying to get my hands on this really important part that might take a while to get here. They’re really hard to find,” he announced with a shrug.

“Really? What part is that?” You sat up with your spine straight in your chair, suddenly more interested than you had been. Whatever this was, it sounded expensive. If it came down to it, asking your mom for money wouldn’t be the worst decision you could make. Putting up with her lectures would just be something you’d have to deal with.

“It’s this….thing. It holds the whole car together. Yours is super rusted so it’s a wonder the whole car hasn’t fallen apart while you’ve been driving.”

“Oh, god. That sounds bad.” You pressed a hand to your forehead, anxiety causing a headache to start. You dropped your hand, focusing on the weeds that grew through the crack in the pavement below your feet.

Eddie must have noticed the grimace on your face. “Hey, don’t worry. I’ll get you back on the road before you know it. Do you trust me?”

You bit your chapped lips. Did you trust him? Despite his reputation, you had no reason not to trust him. He had shown you nothing but kindness since he started coming around.

You slowly nodded your head.

A wide, beautiful smile spread across his face. That traitorous organ in your chest stuttered at the sight. You worried that you might have to start pounding at your own chest to get it back into a normal rhythm.

“Good,” he sighed like it was a relief, still standing and staring at you.

You shifted your hips in your chair, feeling your skin buzz under his stare. You decided to stand and walk over to the radio propped up on the roof of your car. The feeling of his eyes on you as you sauntered over made you feel alive.

Probably more alive than you had felt in a while.

You loved it.

You fiddled with the station, flipping from a static filled metal station to a country one. Daring a glance at Eddie, you noticed the dramatic nose scrunch he made at the music change.

His face made you laugh. “Got any good tapes with you?” You asked.

“Hm…I think I definitely have a few that you would like in there.” He gestured towards the parked van.

You moved towards his van, a hand placed on the handle, but his body suddenly blocked you from opening the door. You looked up at him confused, wondering if maybe you had overstepped by trying to go into his car.

“Sorry. I just remembered it’s really messy in there. I’ll look around for something, okay?” His voice was urgent. You fought the urge to peek through the window.

“Okay,” you agreed, stepping back and walking back to the radio to allow him some privacy. You could hear him shuffling and cursing under his breath as he dug around in search of whatever tape he had in mind.

It was funny to think maybe it was you causing him to be so flustered.

He held the tape up in his hand triumphantly as he walked back towards you. His body crowding yours as he reached onto the roof of the car to put the tape in. He didn’t move away, he just watched your face as you heard The Smith’s start to play.

You raised a curious eyebrow at him as you let out a little laugh. “Didn’t take you as a Smith’s fan,” you stated.

“They’ve got some alright stuff. Are you a fan?”

“I love them.” You couldn’t help the smile, so wide it was aching your cheeks.

The feeling in the air shifted as ’How Soon Is Now?’ played. His eyes flicked from yours down to your mouth then up to your eyes again.

When had he gotten so close to you?

And how could you get him even closer?

For some reason, the decreasing space between the two of you felt so right, like it was clearing the fog from your head. You wanted to hold onto this brief moment of clarity. A moment in time where your head didn’t ache, your nose didn’t bleed, and the nightmares couldn’t get you. Being here with him felt safe, like Eddie was a protective cocoon that wrapped you up and shielded you from all of the bad things.

“Good,” he muttered, reaching to run his thumb gently across your cheek. So softly like he was afraid you might shatter if he put an ounce of pressure behind his touch.

You wanted to shatter in his hands though. Only because it felt like when you were nothing but pieces, only he would be able to put you back together again.

His eyes searched through yours, a silent question that you didn’t know the answer to. But you wished you did.

His face was closer now, his thumb still on your cheek. You tilted your chin up to reach him as he tilted his head and brought it down towards yours. Your eyes flutter shut, scared that if you keep them open your mind will find a way to ruin this one ounce of happiness.

And just before you could feel his lips on yours, he pulled away.

You snap your eyes open to find him standing a foot away now, hands tucked tightly into the pockets of his jeans.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t- I should probably go now,” he blabbered.

You couldn’t help but feel hurt. He was turning you down. It was a harsh slap to the ego to see him so regretful over almost kissing you.

“Right,” you agreed, keeping your voice light like your feelings weren’t hurt.

His face fell as he took you in. His pity was definitely not what you wanted right now.

He didn’t look at you as he packed up his things, shoving them into the back of the van.

You made it up the porch steps when you heard your name called behind you.

Eddie stood at the bottom of the steps, looking up at you.

“Do you want to go out sometime? With me?” He asked, sheepishly. You could see the way he fidgeted with the rings he had put back on his fingers.

“Like on a date?” You prayed you didn’t sound as giddy as you felt on the inside.

“Yes. A date,” he nodded enthusiastically.

“Okay. I think I’d like that,” you agreed, trying to keep your cool. You could already imagine the happy dance you would do once you shut the door.

“Cool! Okay. Let me get my schedule from work for this week and I’ll let you know when.” That smile was back now. His dimples in full force.

You said your goodbyes, both of you hardly containing your happiness. Once inside, you did your little happy shimmy behind the door.

You peaked out the curtain and laughed when you saw Eddie doing his own happy dance on the way to his van.

Sunday, September 28th, 1986

“I’m going to be late for church,” your mother fretted as she maneuvered down the roads of Hawkins.

You kept your head turned away from her, focusing on the window. It was weird driving by sites where the earthquake still left its proof in the earth. It seemed like some people in town lived their everyday life pretending it didn’t happen, like half of the town didn’t fall into the deep chasms in the ground.

Like there weren't men in suits and people in hazmat gear still hanging around.

Your mom was one of the people who pretended it didn’t happen. She found ways to distract herself, mostly by throwing a fit over something new everyday.

She didn’t go to church every Sunday, but on the Sundays that she did, she made sure everyone knew about it.

And if she happened to be late, she would make sure everyone knew it was because of you.

Her attitude has gotten worse lately. Everything you said was met with a snarky remark. You missed the days where you felt like she worried because she loved you. Now it just felt like you were a burden.

You couldn’t wait for Eddie to be finished with your car so you could feel an ounce of freedom. You loved your mom, but if you had to go grocery shopping with her one more time you were going to lose it even more than you already had.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach at the thought of your favorite mechanic.

You didn’t tell your mom that Eddie was working on your car. As far as she knew, you were saving money and trying to get worked into the schedule of the very busy mechanic shops in town.

You chanced a glance at your mother, scared that somehow she can read your mind now and will start berating you for thinking about Eddie Munson.

‘The maniac devil-worshiping serial killer’ she once called him when she saw a picture of him in the newspaper.

You nodded along, agreeing with everything she said because you didn’t know him then. You hadn’t even looked at the picture in the newspaper, His name sparked didn’t spark interest in you like it did now.

You can remember another time, you were having a bad day, the headaches and nosebleeds were constant. It wasn’t long after you left the hospital and you were struggling with the fact that you couldn’t even remember your high school graduation.

You sat on the couch in your mothers living room hugging a throw pillow to your chest. This was before you moved out, watching the evening news with her and trying to act like you weren’t on a downward spiral. His face and name were on the news, discussing his charges being dropped.

Your mom gave you a long lecture that night on who he was, and why you should stay far away from him. Even going as far as saying that if you saw him in the same store as you, then leave.

Back then, you agreed. Willing to do anything to keep yourself safe and your mom happy.

Now you knew she didn’t know him like you did. She would take the gossip and things she heard around town as fact.

“Why would a video store be open on a Sunday anyways?” She asked, bringing you back to the present.

“I don’t know, mom,” you sighed, eyes never straying from the landscape. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Sometimes you felt like you reverted back to your moody teenage years.

The car pulled into the parking lot of the shopping center. “Shoot,” she muttered under her breath.

“What’s wrong?”

“I forgot I’m supposed to be volunteering with some ladies for a food drive after church. I really can’t miss it…” She chewed on her lip as she stared at the front door of Family Video.

“Do you need me to get a ride? I can ask Robin,” you offered quickly. You would walk all the way home if it meant you could get the hell out of the car and let her go on about her day.

Your mom thought for a second, like she was pondering if that was allowed or not. You wanted to scream, tell her that you were an adult. Despite your issues, you could still make adult decisions.

“I suppose that’s okay,” she finally said.

You sighed and climbed out of the car.

Steve wasn’t at work today, leaving just you and Robin to man the store on your own.

It was probably the best day you had since you worked there.

“I forgot to ask,” you said as you picked up a stack of tapes that had just been returned. “Do you think you can give me a ride home? It’s not too far from town. I can give you some gas money too.”

“Oh, sorry. I don’t drive. Steve’s picking me up. I can ask him…” She trailed off awkwardly. The unspoken words hanging in the air. Steve probably wouldn’t give you a ride home. If he did, it would not be a fun car ride.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” You waved your hand in the air like it wasn’t a big deal. You wracked your brain for a moment before an idea dawned on you. “Actually, do you have Eddie’s number?”

Eddie agreed immediately when you asked him for a ride home.

He showed up 15 minutes before closing to pick you up. He waved enthusiastically through the store window when he noticed you staring.

All thoughts about being a burden for needing a ride disappeared when you caught sight of his joyous face.

Robin nudged you playfully when she noticed your bashful smile.

“Come on. Let’s finish up so you can go see him,” she said with a smile.

You rushed through closing, excited to get going. By the time you and Robin locked up for the night, Steve was standing next to Eddie’s van. Eddie leaned up against the passenger side door, a forgotten cigarette burning in his hand.

The conversation looked tense. Steve’s hands moved through the air while Eddie kept his mouth pressed in a thin line, his jaw tense.

Eddie lit up when he saw you approach. He tossed the cigarette to the side, stomping it out with his boot. He waved his hand in the air to try to clear the smoke before you got closer.

And they say chivalry is dead.

“You ready to go?” He asked, cutting Steve off mid sentence.

“Yep,” you chirped. “Hi, Steve,” you say politely.

He nodded his head at you as a greeting, not saying anything to you. You could see the way Eddie’s hands turned into fists for a moment as he glared at Steve before seeming to remember that you were standing right there.

He turned and opened the door for you to climb into the van. You could tell based on the crumbs and small pieces of trash on the floor that he had done his best to clean it up. A strong smelling air freshener hung from the rearview mirror.

When he jumped in the front seat he turned and smiled at you.

“Hi.”

“Hi. Thank you for picking me up. I’m really sorry for having to call you…”

“I told you I can give you rides!” He exclaimed. “It’s really no problem. I’m happy I get to see you again.”

There were those damn butterflies again. You covered your mouth with your hand to hide your traitorous smile.

Eddie pulled out of the parking lot. You noticed he was going slightly under the speed limit, surprising because he usually pulls into your driveway like a bat out of hell.

“Do you mind if I stop by the gas station real quick? I just wanted to run in and get a few snacks,” he explained.

“Yep! That’s fine,” you said. Even with him going under the speed limit the car ride was going by way too quickly. Before you knew it, you were pulling into the gas station.

Eddie hopped out of the van. “Do you want anything?” He asked.

You shook your head no.

“Okay, well, I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere,” he said with a wink.

You watched as he crossed the parking lot. People loitering around the building eyed him suspiciously. Luckily, no one bothered him.

You looked around the van a bit, hoping to get an insight into Eddie. It wouldn’t hurt to snoop a little bit. You were positive if the roles were reversed he would definitely go through your things.

The cloth seats were surprisingly comfortable. You ran your finger over what looked like a cigarette burn that left a hole in the seat. You wondered who sat here before you to leave that permanent mark in his van.

You glanced back over at the gas station, seeing Eddie still roaming the aisles through the large windows.

Deciding the best place to snoop was the glovebox, you popped open the latch and started digging around inside.

Scraps of paper and some trash fell out first. You pushed some tapes aside, thinking that there would be nothing of interest until your eye caught onto pink cloth.

You reached your hand tentatively to grab it.

You held up the cloth to realize it was a pink scrunchy. You checked back to make sure Eddie wasn’t coming out of the store.

You were confused. Eddie wore black all of the time. He didn’t seem like the type to wear a pink scrunchie in his hair. But what did you know?

Setting the scrunchie in your lap, you reached your hand back into the glovebox to see what else you could find. Your hand made contact with smooth glass. You pulled it out to inspect it.

Your stomach dropped when you saw what it was.

Perfume.

Girl's perfume.

You shoved the perfume and scrunchie back where it belonged and slammed the latch shut.

Eddie has a girlfriend.

And if it’s not a girlfriend, then he has a girl in his car enough for her to keep her things in here.

Your stomach dropped and your chest felt like it was cracking in half.

If he has a girlfriend, why would he flirt with you and ask you on a date?

No wonder he didn’t want you to go into his van yesterday to find a tape. He didn’t want you to find out and ruin the little game he was playing.

The driver side door swung open. “Hey, sorry it took me so long. I couldn’t decide on which soda I wanted. But I got you this,” he said as he handed you a bag of M&M’s and a Dr. Pepper.

“Thanks. These are my favorites,” you said quietly.

“You okay?” He questioned. A concerned look crossed over his face as he looked at you, making you wonder how awful you looked right now.

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine. Just really tired.” You did your best to muster a smile.

He looked like he didn’t believe you but decided not to press any further. The rest of the car ride to your house was awkward and quiet, filled with Eddie’s attempts to joke and make you laugh. You could tell your one worded answers were hurting his feelings but you didn’t really care.

He pulled into your driveway and opened the passenger side door to help you out of the van. He walked beside you silently up your porch steps and to your front door.

“Look, are you okay? Because you’re being really quiet, and I don’t know if I did something or if you’re not feeling well…”

You looked up at him, his hair and face illuminated by the porch light you always left on. He twisted and turned the rings on his hand as he searched your face for a clue on why you were suddenly acting so distant to him.

The fact that he was acting so innocent made you even more mad.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” You asked, the words coming out as a harsh accusation.

Eddie looked taken aback for a moment. “Yes- I mean no-” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment before speaking again. “No. I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Then why did you just say yes so quickly?” You pressed.

“It’s complicated,” he sighed. “I didn’t mean to say yes.”

“He’s lying,” a deep voice whispered in your head, surprising you with its intensity.

The voice was right. Eddie was lying.

Your temples pounded. The edges of your vision start to turn black from the incoming pain.

You needed to go inside.

“I don’t believe you,” you gritted out.

“Why? Did Steve say something to you?” His voice came out strained and angry.

“He’s hiding something from you,” the voice informed you.

“No, no one told me anything. If you don’t have a girlfriend, then what is there for Steve to tell me? And if you don’t have a girlfriend then why is her perfume and scrunchy in your van? Am I some kind of joke to you?” Your voice was growing louder with each word you said. You could feel the anger pouring through your bloodstream.

An unnatural anger that you had never felt before in your life.

You didn’t care if you were overreacting or not. You just wanted to get him away from you.

You turned and unlocked your door quickly, ignoring the pleading look from Eddie beside you.

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Look, can I come in and we can talk about this?”

“He’s trying to use you. Don’t let him in,” the voice that only you could hear stated.

You listened to the voice, trusting it fully. You couldn’t trust Eddie.

“Shit, are you okay? Your nose is bleeding, and you look really pale.” Eddie’s hand reached towards you, but you pushed it away.

“Stay the fuck away from me, Eddie. Don’t come back here or I’ll call the cops and tell them how much of a creep you are,” you spat.

Eddie reared back like he had been hit. His mouth opened as he stared at you in shock.

He didn’t move to reach out to you again as you swung the door open and stomped inside, turning to lock it immediately after it shut.

You even shut off the porch light for good measure, leaving him in darkness.

You crawled to your bed, not caring if he made it back to the van or not. Not even bothering to clean the now drying blood on your face or change out of your work clothes.

How had you not seen he was messing with you? Was he just trying to get in your pants the whole time? Or was he going to butter you up in hopes of getting more money out of you when it came time to pay him for his work? Were he and Steve acting like highschoolers and teaming up to make you miserable? Was Robin in on it too?

One thing you knew for certain, was that you would never trust Eddie Munson again.

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson au #eddie munson series #mechanic!eddie munson x reader #mechanic!eddie munson #mechanic!eddie #mechanic eddie munson #eddie munson angst

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wingdingery · 14 days

Note

ohhhh i always have requests! quite fond of lil drabble ideas: bruce teaching dick to dance and (years later when they’re together) they recreating some of their first dances, slade being the one to gift dick his first leather jacket that he still regularly wears, An Event Occurs and in the aftermath dick realizes how irreplaceable he is to bruce and just how much bruce both loves him and needs him, bruce and dick’s undercover aliases that keep getting more and more romantic over the years

In Dick’s experience, returning to his apartment after a week away and finding a mysterious box on the coffee table that was definitely not there when he left is, usually, not actually a big deal.

He’s still careful—the little Batman that lives in the back of his head would never give him a moment of peace if he wasn’t—but he’s just very aware of the fact that, nine times out of ten, the not-so-little Batman is the one breaking in and leaving little treats for him to find later, because Bruce is deathly allergic to seeing people’s reactions to his gifts in real-time.

Dick runs through the standard checks, but nothing sounds or smells off, and nothing pings as suspicious on infrared or the particulate detector. He steps closer to inspect the box. It’s rectangular, all white, and generally unremarkable except for the fact that he didn’t put it there.

Carefully, he lifts the lid. He’s expecting some kind of gear—it wouldn’t be the first time a new suit or toys showed up unannounced.

What he finds is a leather moto jacket.

He gently lifts it out of the box and stares at it, bemused. It’s very nice—genuine Italian leather by the feel of it, black with silver hardware and diagonal pockets in the shape of a V, and just his size. There’s no note of any kind, but when he sniffs the leather, he also gets a whiff of maple and gun oil—and that feels like a signature in and of itself.

Dick pulls out his phone, dials in the number from memory, and sinks into the couch as it rings.

“Happy birthday,” Slade says when he picks up, voice low and rumbling.

Dick suppresses a smile. “You’re late.”

“I was busy.”

“Doing what?”

“You really wanna know the answer to that?”

Dick bites the inside of his cheek and fiddles with the zipper of the jacket. They’ve been getting along all right ever since they’d been forced to team up on the cruise ship from hell, but still, a little plausible deniability goes a long way, between them. “How long ‘til I find out on my own?”

“Now that depends,” Slade says, drawing out the words. “You still talking to Rose?”

Dick blinks. “You were visiting Rose?”

“Something like that.”

“She shut the door in your face,” Dick guesses.

Slade grunts. “We can meet not at her apartment.”

“And she’s moving?”

“And she’s moving.” Slade doesn’t sound particularly annoyed about it, but then again, finding people who don’t want to be found is basically his job. Dick makes a mental note to see if Rose wants a hand making her dad’s life harder.

“So why the jacket?” Dick says, running his hand over the leather. It really is nice. He wonders where Slade got it, and whether it was paid for in money or blood. He probably doesn’t want to know.

“You complained I made you ruin yours,” Slade says. “Reckon we’re square now.”

Dick raises his eyebrows, even though Slade can’t see it. “I don’t remember doing that, but if I did, it had to have been, what… seven years ago? At least?”

“I’ve got a long memory.” It sounds vaguely like a threat, in Slade’s voice, but the jacket itself seems far from one, so Dick lets it pass.

“If you’re trying to make up for that,” Dick says, “then you’re really late.”

“You’d’ve thrown it straight in the trash if I ever tried before.”

“I could still do that.”

“You won’t.”

“Well, now I have to.”

Slade scoffs. “Go ahead. Would be a waste of perfectly good leather, though.”

The desire for knowledge wins out. “Where’d you get it?”

“Made it.”

Dick pauses, uncertain he’d heard correctly. When Slade doesn’t elaborate, though, Dick echoes, uncertainly, “Made it?”

“Wintergreen helped some.”

Dick opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Made it?

“Who exactly did you think made my first few costumes?” Slade says, sounding amused. “Not all of us have your daddy’s resources.”

It’s one thing for Slade to have bought him something; Dick can explain that away as just a whim—an act of opportunity, as it were. But Slade spending the time and energy to make it himself?

That’s premeditation.

“This isn’t a birthday gift.”

“I said happy birthday, didn’t I?”

“This isn’t just a birthday gift,” Dick presses.

Slade doesn’t respond, and Dick lets the silence stretch far past the point of discomfort. Still, neither of them hangs up. Slade may be a stubborn asshole, but Dick has been trained in the art of silence-offs by the most frustratingly stoic of them all.

Dick smooths out the collar of the jacket and straightens out the arms while he waits. Now that he’s looking closer, he can tell the seams aren’t the tidy stitches of a lifelong craftsman, but it’s impressive work, all the same. Work that must have taken a hell of a lot of effort.

Finally, Slade breaks the rhythm of quiet breathing. “Whatever it is,” he says, “it’s yours now. Throw it in the trash if you want. Or don’t. It’s got nothing to do with me.”

It has everything to do with Slade, but the fact that Slade is insisting so hard that it doesn’t is both a little funny and extremely sad. Dick can recognize a fear of rejection when he hears it.

Dick puts a hand on top of the jacket. “It doesn’t really make sense to give me this,” he says, “if you’re never going to see me wear it.”

Slade is silent for a moment, but not as long as before. “I’ve got time,” he says, slowly, like he’s leaving space for Dick to cut him off between one word and the next. “Two weeks from now.”

“Two weeks,” Dick agrees. “I assume you don’t need the address.”

“Think I’ve got it.” Slade’s voice is dry, but lacking its usual knife-sharp edge. “See you soon, kid.”

He hangs up before Dick can respond.

Dick smiles anyway. “See you soon.”

----

Footnote: RIP Dick's expensive jacket (this is $300 in 80s money)

#sladick #prompt fics #had to stop fiddling with this and set it free since it was just meant to be the equivalent of a warmup sketch #my perfectionist instincts will be the end of me

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lace-coffin · 4 months

Note

I have a request. Could you pretty please do some spicy headcanons of Asa with a bratty S/O 🙏. He probably has no tolerance for disobedience so having a bratty pet would result in punishment. Apologies I'm a horny bastard lmao 😂

How would Asa Emory cope with a bratty s/o? (Nsfw)

Asa Emory x gn!bratty!reader

Trigger warning for sexual content- bdsm- power exchange/ power dynamic- spanking

If you asked Asa if he likes brats a few months ago he would frown and say no. Not enjoying the constant battle and frustration of trying to subdue them, Asa wants complete submission and expects nothing less.

If you asked Asa if he likes brats in the present day he would smirk and tell you “they’re not as clever as they think they are” thinking fondly of you, at home, still chained to the wall where he left you, hopefully that is, you’re a slippery one to hold down.

Had Asa known you’d been a brat when scouting you for the collection he wouldn’t have bothered, would’ve found someone more easy to command. God is he thankful he didn’t.

He expected to hate training you, but he couldn’t love it any less. You were harder to break down than previous pets, kicking, swearing,spitting, straight up ignoring him sometimes. The punishments that followed were indulgent for him, marvelling at the way you fought hard at first, all gnashing teeth and scratches.

This was no longer the case once Asa had wrestled you to floor, both panting and glaring eachother down. Pinning your arms above your head and sliding his leather belt out of the loops. Shit. You knew where this was going. This only makes you thrash harder, legs jutting into his stomach, winding him momentarily.

Regaining his position over you he snatches your legs, fastening the belt around your claves and securing them. Before you can even think to fight back your hauled over to the sofa and slung over Asa’s knees, bottoms and underwear ripped down unceremoniously.

“Now, pet, you can either choose to apologise and the punishment will be lighter or you can continue being the dumb little mutt we both know you are and receive the full extent of it.” A moment passes in silence….”get fucked” you spit back. “You never learn, there really isn’t anything going on up there is there? You need daddy to tell you how and when to think, it’s pathetic.”

They way you break down into a dumb sobbing mess is beautiful in Asa’s eyes, all big talk and flailing until his black gloved hand comes down onto your exposed ass, again and again,leaving you begging and sobbing out apologies.

Asa looks at you pitifully, taking in the tears clinging your lashes and the rosey hue of your beaten ass, he knows you’ll be feeling it for the next day or two. His gaze softens as he rubs some ointment on your red behind and pulls your underwear back up, manoeuvring you to lay on the sofa on your side, careful not to put pressure on your butt.

He hushes your whines of complaint as he leaves briefly to get you a snack and a juice box, he may be a sadistic dom/lover but he’s not an improper one, aftercare is non negotiable and is always first priority after a scene.

He returns and settles into the sofa next to you, prompting you to sit upright so he can feed you, your brain still fuzzy and airy in Subspace.

Your master runs a hand over your cheek, wiping away a stray tear and looking at you smittenly. “See how easy it is when you’re good for me? You can just be a little pet and let master do the thinking ok? No need to be bratty. Just let daddy handle all the difficult things and it’ll be ok.” he practically coo’s at you, fondly committing your far away subby look to memory. “I have you, my silly cricket”

#slashers #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #asa emory #asa emory x reader #the collection #writing #my writing

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asexualgilliontidestrider · 1 year

Text

Could you imagine the hero discourse in the prime defenders universe. There’s some Reddit post that’s like

r/askreddit

what was a negative interaction you had with a hero in your life

I’m curious because I see so many people talking like they’re purely good and I personally have seen them do pretty mean stuff

“when I was in the 6th grade silhouette was a TA on a school trip with my class and i told him that I needed the bathroom and he just told me to piss my pants and then ignored me and then when we actually got to the museum he just ditched us and left ms Gilbert to try and handle the entire class alone so I think that says a lot about what kind of person he really is”

“Tide once completely flooded my car that was parked on a bridge while fighting a villain and it had pictures of my grandma who died in a box on my passenger seat and they were ruined and I’m kinda still not over that”

“Pretender once walked straight into me and then just shoved me away and started shouting about how I should have moved if I was real”

“Well since the whole deal where random heroes have been going crazy I think you’re going to get a lot of bad experiences”

“Atlas killed my brother when he snapped that one time”

“This kid hero DC and his group got me fired from work because they literally stood in the middle of the road to harass some villain in a car instead of letting the cops deal with it. I was an hour late because they had to get someone to tow the car and it was totalled when they put it down because one of his friends had this freaky third demon arm thing that crushed it”

“Oh god yeah that kid. Watched him and his buddies dump some dude’s body in a lake. Then when my neighbour tried to stop them they made a call and then did something to him that messed him up for days. He doesn’t even remember it happening shits scary bro”

“Oh damn you live in rockfall too? Those kids are fucking menaces. The purple hair elf kid once just started stealing shit from the store I work at. Like he tried to put a bucket on my head and then in clear view crouched and started taking shit off the shelves and putting it in his bag. Security had to stop him and then he got picked up by Tide later.”

“Dodgeboy called me and my girlfriend a slur once :( I know he was super old but that’s still messed up”

“Saw a red haired hero kid punch out a wall of the dodge boy memorial library once when I was walking home from my night shift. As I was walking away I saw him and his friends harassing some kid with their powers and it kind of pissed me off with heroes in general. Like this is how the next generation of our protectors are being raised? God.”

#long post #JRWI #JRWI prime defenders

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colourstreakgryffin · 10 months

Text

Random Hashira Post #6

Massive shoutout to the big brain, @grungeeuvu for this idea! All credit goes to him/her/them/other!

This’ll be set in the Kimetsu Academy world to make my and everybody else’s lives so much easier!

Sleepover with the Hashira

Tokito Muichiro

A sleepover? Please tell him that he got everything— … All his bags are back at his house

Muichiro is probably asleep almost instantly. The Hashira can wake him up but he’s sleeping so peacefully

Muichiro is the type to wear a hoodie with his PJs. Keeps him warm and is comfortable

Muichiro needs to be reminded by Shinobu regularly on how to play the games Mitsuri and Kyojuro set up

Oh, wait. Did Muichiro do his maths homework?

Iguro Obanai

Never had a sleepover in his life so he’s a bit nervous. Especially that it’s being hosted at Mitsuri’s house

Obanai packed a lot of stuff and has to cram his bags in the corner to make space

Of course, Obanai brought Kaburamaru to join in. Gyomei has to fault Obanai for cheating when Kaburamaru presses a button to increase his money in Monopoly

Obanai is actually pretty good at the sleepover games provided. Not the winner but definitely up there

Please don’t let him touch a stove. He’ll burn down the whole kitchen, just let him serve the snacks

Rengoku Kyojuro

Kyojuro loves sleepovers, just like Mitsuri

Kyojuro is totally the type to sleep for days straight so he can stay awake as long as possible for the sleepover

He takes pictures with the Hashira at random times to remember this exciting night and all of the memories tagging along

Kyojuro absolutely was the one who brought a number of the non-provided games the Hashira play

Kyojuro is also the type to let his fellow Hashira win in any activity. It’s not about victory, it’s about having fun!

Shinazugawa Sanemi

Move aside. Sanemi is also doing all the “cursed games” like Bloody Mary and walks out annoyed

Sanemi is one of the two chefs of the Hashira. He makes them all kinds of food for the night then pancakes for the morning

His sleeping bag may or may not be a gift from Genya

Like Kyojuro and Obanai, Sanemi’s quite a night owl so he stays up a bit longer than most of the Hashira

Sanemi is very competitive in the games to the point he gets into arguments

Kocho Shinobu

She knows sleepovers well. Thanks to all of her sisters and her ladies in her home

Shinobu regularly corrects the Hashira on things they do wrong with her smart-assey ways. “Shinazugawa, you put your sleeping bag down wrong. Tokito, you’re not suppose to do that in Twister”

Talks a lot to either Mitsuri or Giyuu about random stuff going on in her life. She doesn’t care if they��re listening or not

Shinobu, like she usually does, enjoys messing with her fellow Hashira by smacking controllers out of their hands

Shinobu is babysitting Muichiro for most of the night and keeping her eyes on him so he won’t wonder off

Himejima Gyomei

Keeps track of the time a lot. Not so he can go to sleep or whatever, but so everybody can know when they ask

Gyomei views sleepovers as a bonding exercise so he was one of the first at Mitsuri’s place. He trusts in Mitsuri’s ability to make the night fun

Gyomei is always the one to take charge(even if he isn’t the host) so he helps move all of the Hashira’s stuff to a safer place

Gyomei is ballsy, he’ll do any dare with no hesitation. It’s not that embarrassing to him since it’s not that important

When it gets too chaotic, he just chants prays under his breath to give everybody here luck to handle the mess

Uzui Tengen

The chaos bringer right here. He has brought along a bag full of dynamite and a DJ set to wake up the neighbours with loud dubstep

Tengen does whatever he wants. He’ll start boxing matches with his fellow to make the night more interesting. He’s a wildcard

Tengen does calm down after having some of the nice non-alcoholic drinks Mitsuri made and getting comfortable on his sleeping bag

But always prepare for a prank. He’ll set them up and start a mini war with Iguro or Shinazugawa

Tengen’s sleeping bag was made by his wives so he values it intently. Nobody can use it but him!

Kanroji Mitsuri

So excited, she can barely keep herself from expressing it. A sleepover with her best friends! This is a dream come true!

Mitsuri overworked herself to prepare for the Hashira coming over. Cleaned her house to a extreme, over-prepared snacks/drinks and organised her room to make enough space. She wants this night to be perfect

Mitsuri is the one who starts the hour-long pillow fight and nearly wins with how hard she swings

You can find her braiding Shinobu or Kyojuro’s hair throughout the night as it calms down

Mitsuri doesn’t want to fall asleep, she wants this to last forever but she does end up conking out a little later after Muichiro

Tomioka Giyuu

Nothing changes with Giyuu. He is there because he has to be but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t think the sleepover is fun

Giyuu is the type to double check on his worklife whilst at the sleepover so suspect to see him to be looking over his class notes

He joins in on the games so little and keeps himself cuddled in his sleeping bag, most of the time, that it annoys some of the Hashira

Giyuu is also totally the type to listen to music on his headphones when waiting for Mitsuri’s word

Giyuu is surprisingly competitive, not as bad as Sanemi, but he’ll actually work to try win

Help. I’m ruining out of good Hashira pictures

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fourthwingfan · 23 days

Text

Madness - Chapter 15

Hello there. I'm here with the new chapter. Enjoy :)

Just because you survive Threshing doesn’t mean you’ll survive the ride to the flight field. Being chosen isn’t the only test, and if you can’t hold your seat, then you’ll fly straight into the ground.

—Page fifty, the Book of Brennan

Air rushes past us and I sit higher in the seat and look out over the landscape, wind ripping tears from the corners of my eyes. No wonder most riders choose to wear goggles. There are at least a dozen dragons in the air, each putting their rider through a trial of dips and turns. Reds, oranges, greens, browns, the sky is speckled with color.

My heart lurches as I see a rider fall from the back of a Red Swordtail and the dragon doesn’t dip to catch the first-year. I look away before the body hits the ground.

It’s not anyone you know. That’s what I tell myself. Violet, Liam, Ethan… They’re all probably safely bonded and already waiting at the field.

“We’re going to have to put on a show.”

“Awesome.” The idea is exciting, but I don’t know if I can hold on correctly.

“You will not fall. And you will trust me.”

Not a question. An order.

“I trust you with my life, Aon!” I shout and grip tighter the pommels and I tighten my legs.

“There’s no need to shout. I can hear you just fine. The entire mountain can probably hear you.”

Oh, yes. He can hear my thoughts.

His wings give a mighty beat, and we lurch upward in what feels like a ninety-degree climb, leaving my stomach back at the lower altitude. He crests the top of the snow-dusted peaks, and we hang there for a breath of a second before he twists, diving back down at the same terrifying angle.

It’s the most exhilarating moment of my life.

Then he twists again, sending us into a spiral.

My body is wrenched this way and that as I hold on as hard as I can when he completes turn after turn, pulling us out of the dive only to bank so hard, I swear the land becomes the sky, then repeats it all until my face splits into a grin, and I laugh out loud in joy.

There is nothing like this.

It’s pure freedom.

In the sky there’s no fear, no hatred, no duty.

It’s just Aon and I.

I have never felt so free in my life.

„I think we made our point.” He pulls us level, then banks right, starting up the valley that leads to the box canyon of the training fields. The sun is close to setting behind the peaks, but there’s still enough to see Tairn and the little golden dragon with him. They stand in the middle of the field. I’m really happy Tairn chose Violet.

„Why did you choose me?” I have to know, because as soon as we land, there are going to be questions. “Professor Kaori showed us the dragons who was willing to bond this year and you weren’t among them.”

“As I said I won’t choose someone who is not worth my time. I watched, then decided. You’re smart. And you’re willing to protect the weaker. Let this be enough for now. You have to gain knowledge about what is beyond the walls of this school.”

Beyond this school? Are they witholding information from us?

Memories flash before my eyes.

The General wants me to observe the marked-ones, as if he can’t ‘see’ them with his signet. This is already suspicious.

Then he shows me a strange dagger and wants me to report him if I see even one. When I asked about it, he became irritated.

“Don’t think about it now, golden one. You have to learn how to shield your mind from others.” He says as we pass over the Gauntlet and crest the narrow entrance to the training fields.

I suck in a sharp breath at the sight of so many dragons. There are hundreds gathered along the rocky edges of the mountain slopes behind the bleachers that were erected overnight. Spectators. And at the bottom of the valley, in the same field I’d walked only a couple of days before, are two lines of dragons facing each other.

“They are divided between those still in the quadrant who chose in years past and those who chose today.” Aon tells me.

The General will be here, on the dais in front of the bleachers. I hope I can avoid him tonight.

A ferocious roar of celebration goes up among the dragons as we fly in, every head swinging our way, and I know it’s in deference to Aon. So is the parting of the dragons at the very center of the field, making room for him to land beside Tairn.

And then we land in the dead center of the field. The impact jars me slightly, but I sit up tall in the seat and even let go of the pommel ridges.

Aon tucks his wings up and looks over his shoulder at me. “You need to dismount, then tell the roll-keeper—”

“I know what to do.” I pull in a shaky breath. I can do it. I just need to go there and avoid eyecontact with the General.

I step over the scales of Aon’s shoulder and, before I can lament the distance I’m about to have to jump I just do it.

I land safely on my feet, bending my knees a little to lessen the impact.

“Don’t foget that you’re mine now, little one. And nobody can harm what it’s mine!” Aon lowers his head and blows at me warm air through his nose.

I walk across the wide field, heading for the small formation directly ahead of me. Behind me, wind sporadically gusts as more dragons land and their riders dismount to have their names recorded, but it’s softer and softer as the line spreads farther down the field. Look like we weren’t that late.

Dusk falls, and a series of mage lights illuminates the crowd in the bleachers and on the dais. In the very center, right above where the redhead from Parapet is recording roll, is General Sorrengail, dressed in all her military finery, medals and all. Though there is an assortment of generals on the dais, each representing their wing, there’s only one more highly decorated than Lilith Sorrengail.

General Melgren, the commanding general of all Navarrian forces.

They stand in a tight circle and they’re shouting. What the hell happened?

I approach the roll-keeper at the base of the dais, who’s recording bonded pairs.

“Aelin Melgren.” She looks up, then writes my name in the Book of Riders. “For the record please tell me the name of the dragon who chose you.”

I lift my chin. “Aonniasach.”

“Pronunciation could use some work.” Aon’s voice rumbles through my head.

“Hey, at least I remembered,” I think back in his general direction, wondering if he’ll hear me across the field. “You said that I will forget it.”

“What is this commotion?” I lean closer and whisper to the roll-keeper.

She quickly looks at the shouting crowd then back at me. “It’s about Violet. She bonded with two dragons.”

What? How is that possible?

I walk toward Aon while I search for Violet.

There she is, between Tairn’s legs.

Should I go and talk to her?

“It’s not a good idea right now, little one.” Aon says in my head. “Come back, for now.”

I sigh and do as he say.

I’m so tiny compared to him. He’s smaller than Tairn, but bigger than anyone else on this field.

I stand in front of his left leg and look around. I hope to spot my friends. I need to know they’re all right.

“Look left.”

I turn in that direction and I see a grinning Liam. He’s in front of a rather big red daggertail.

I step closer to him but still maintain a safe distance. Dragons only allows their rider to approach them.

He too walks closer and hugs me tightly.

“Aelin, I’m so glad you’re here!” He whispers. “I was worried that something happened to you.”

“Well, I ran into a little trouble, but nothing I can’t handle.” I say and pull back to look into his eyes. “And you? Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He looks me over. “Is that your blood?” He asks in a concerned voice.

“No. It’s the ‘troubles’ blood.” I shake my head grinning.

“You have to tell me later.” He sighs then looks up at Aon. “And your dragon is…”

“He’s Aon, a blue morningstartail.” I grin proudly at Aon. “He’s a little bit grumpy but deep down he’s a cutie.”

He looks at me with an expression that’s probably the dragon’s version of an eye roll.

„I’m not a ’cutie’, little one. I am a dragon.” Aon says in my head.

„Grumpy.” reply in my mind.

“See? I told you.” I laugh at Liam.

“Is it just me or he looks a bit like Sgaeyl?” He leans closer and whispers. “I mean it’s not just because he’s a blue dragon. His horns and… I don’t know, maybe I’m mistaken.”

“Hm. I don’t know, I haven’t seen another blue.” I shrug. “What about your dragon?”

“He’s Deigh, a red daggertail.” He stands straighter and looks so proud, I can’t help and smile at him.

“He looks pretty badass.” I say.

“Yes, he…” Liam turns around and looks at Deigh with wide eyes. Then he laughs.

“What did he say?” I ask curiously.

“He saw you.” He says still laughing. “He…saw you in the woods.”

“What? When?” I raise my eybrows.

“You were near to a clearing, and he said you were frozen like a sheep when you saw him, only you didn’t look so edible.”

“A sheep?” I look at Deigh and start laughing. “Yeah, maybe I was intimidated by an unbonded dragon. But thank him for me that he didn’t eat me.” So he was the red I saw. Good to know.

“Stay here, little one. The Empyrean will decide your friend’s fate.”

#fourth wing #fanfiction #fourth wing fanfic #liam mairi #the fourth wing #violet sorrengail #xaden riorson #oc #the empyrean #xaden x oc #sgaeyl #deigh #tairn #andarna #dragons

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teecupangel · 4 months

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Hello, Yu-gi-oh! anon here! Thanks a lot for answering my ask :)

Really liked the idea of the Apple acting like the Puzzle, being a trigger for the ancestors to connect with Desmond! I’d like to think that after what Desmond went through it would be very comforting to know someone you can trust completely understands you and has your back - even if that person is technically not alive anymore. But at least the warmth of a kindred soul is there, right? And if he connects with his other ancestors…. Well. He won’t have to feel so alone.

Though, not gonna lie, I’m curious what a full on Yu-gi-oh! au would look like….. Egyptian God Cards as Isu POEs….

I’m glad you liked my idea! (Here’s the link to the Altaïr possesses Desmond ala Yami Yugi idea for those curious)

It would definitely be something akin to multiple possessions and having people in your mind comforting and supporting you when no one else would. In this situation, Ezio would wake up in Desmond’s consciousness after he watches Minerva’s message but Ratonhnhaké:ton would wake up after he took the Temple key from his father’s dead body.

But all of them remember all their memories up to their death so they’re certain they’re not Bleeds.

How could they be when Desmond’s genetic memories of them should stop after they conceived the child that would be Desmond’s ancestor?

It’s a mystery that they want to figure out. At the same time, they worry about Desmond, of course, because Desmond is… well… being his usual self which meant the three have their work cut out for them.

In this situation, they would believe being awaken inside Desmond meant that there is something more they must do, not just listen to Juno’s words.

This also means…

Desmond probably didn’t go in a coma and went straight to Ratonhnhaké:ton’s memories after receiving the Apple because Juno wouldn’t just have to control him, she’d have to stop Altaïr and Ezio from taking control back before she could stab Lucy.

That is… to say… if they haven’t figured out that Lucy is a Templar by then which is highly unlikely because the three of them would be suspicious of Lucy for far longer.

As for a Yu-Gi-Oh AU…

I’m thinking Desmond gets a puzzle like the Millennium Puzzle in the shape of the Apple of Eden and that awakens Altaïr as his ‘Yami’ personality.

They still play card games but this is more of the… ‘historical’ flavor. The main idea is that the card game they play uses Abstergo technology to have all those flashy special effects and Abstergo is also the company that held the card tournament that Desmond gets roped into because the price is another POE that might have a hint of Altaïr’s past.

A lot of cards are famous historical people and also historical events or ‘items’ and Desmond’s deck evolves the more he fights with the cards rewarded for winning supposedly random like gacha/loot boxes but that's very sus.

In a nutshell, there’s still the whole Assassins and Templars fighting in the background but now their battlefield is the tournament that’s stacked against the Assassins.

Desmond has no idea about any of these, he’s just there because Altaïr wants the prize.

Lucy is a fellow duelist who approached him to befriend him (she’s still working for Abstergo though but the Assassins believe she befriended him to help him because he has no idea what’s happening).

Unorganized Notes:

I’m tempted to make Malik Desmond and Altaïr’s Dark Magician but, considering how important he is to Desmond, it would actually be more accurate for Desmond’s Dark Magician to be Ezio.

Ratonhnhaké:ton is also one of his cards and his deck can actually be summarized as ‘cards that amps Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton up’ which includes the field card Monteriggioni that amps their HP as long as they’re marked as Assassins or Mercenaries, ‘magic’ cards like Hidden Blade which grants bonus attack, and trap cards like ‘Da Vinci’s Tank’ which bombards the enemy field if Ezio is specifically targeted. (Other ‘monster’ cards have effects that grants bonus to Ezio or Ratonhnhaké:ton (like Claudia and Faulkner) or call them to the field (Achilles and Mario))

Malik is also a card and he acts more like a tank card that lets Desmond draw an extra card every turn he’s in the field (aka: he’s there to make sure Desmond gets Ezio or Ratonhnhaké:ton as soon as possible). (Kadar is a card that, when defeated, summons Malik from the deck or hand to the field immediately. Malik is dealt damage equal to 1/8th of his total health though when he is summoned but Desmond will automatically draw 3 cards the first time he is summoned instead of 1)

Edward is also part of Desmond’s deck and he appears as the ‘monster’ (we need a different name for these kinds of cards) Edward can attack twice (but his attack is halved for each attack) and there's a Jackdaw spell card that, you guess it, let’s Desmond draw another extra card during his turn. If Edward is in the field with Jackdaw, his attack penalty is gone and he can attack twice with his full attack stat. If Edward and Ratonhnhaké:ton are on the field at the same time, Edward does a follow up attack (half without Jackdaw, full with Jackdaw) every time Ratonhnhaké:ton attacks. (Why ‘every’ time? Because the ‘monster’ card Haytham’s special skill is that it grants Ratonhnhaké:ton an extra attack each turn so yeah, getting Edward + Ratonhnhaké:ton + Haytham + Jackdaw on the field is OP)

There’s other monster cards that all have the same skill by the way. Every time they are killed, Desmond gets a badge. If he gets 3 badges, he can get Ezio from his deck and play him automatically on the field. These cards? Giovanni Auditore, Federico Auditore and Petruccio Auditore. Petruccio Auditore has low attack and low health. Playing him is really just to have a shield and for him to die. BUT, if you manage to summon Ezio with any of the three, Ezio absorbs any damage that’s meant for them (so that’s a double edged sword) AND his attack is increased by 25% for each of them. The monster card Claudia also has the same 25% bonus BUT she doesn’t give any 0.25% to Ezio and vice versa (but Ezio still gets the block 'penalty' for Claudia). There is a magic card that gives a permanent 25% attack bonus and a 10% regen each turn though called Maria Auditore and it applies to any card with the last name ‘Auditore’. (PS: Clay has Federico, Giovanni, Petruccio and Maria in his deck BUT not Claudia… as a reference to how his sessions ended around AC2 storyline)

Their trump card (kinda like their Exodia) is the card Aegis. It doesn’t attack but it can absorb any damage up to a point. The most annoying part of Aegis is that if you don’t destroy it in one turn, it will heal to full HP next turn. The downside is: there’s three pieces of Aegis and it has to be on the field all at the same time for it to activate.

Desmond’s deck is a very high risk, high reward deck that’s for sure

Desmond’s rival can be Clay (more on the trickster type rival) or Shaun. … maybe even Cross XD (Who is the Seto among the three? *shrug*)

What’s Abstergo’s end goal? No one actually knows but the truth is they can’t control what card is being ‘printed’. It’s actually based on a POE that they’re using for profit and to get the Assassins to make a move. The POE is in charge of the rewards after every battle as well.

The other historical Assassins will make an appearance as cards. Callum Lynch gets Arno and Aguilar. A woman by the name of Darcy Clarkson gets the Frye twins. Clay is the only other person to have a copy of Ezio but his deck is much more balanced and doesn’t focus too heavily on Ezio. Layla gets Bayek and Eivor. A woman by the name of Kass gets an OP card called 'Deimos'. This might be a hint that the people who get which cards have some connection to those cards.

The Egyptian god cards equivalent for this one is probably the Capitoline Triad (with Desmond getting Minerva, Clay getting Juno and... uuhhh... someone else getting Tinia???)

#is desmond’s deck op?#yes #do I regret it #nope #given more time i would have probably added more #altaïr doesn’t have a card because he’s possessing desmond #assassin's creed #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #desmond miles #i don't know if i should tag anyone else???#oh well #yu gi oh au

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