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segsforbreaky · 4 years ago

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Nolan Patrick x Reader for @chicagoblackhawkslover96

Prompts; 14. “And there were two beds, but no one cared”. 38. “Just kiss already”. 39. “Everyone is having sex.”

Warnings: nsfw (sex, kissing, alcohol, cuss words, all that jazz.)

Summary: Y/n is TKs best friend and gets introduced to Nolan after a winning game, little did Travis know...

You didn’t know what to expect as you walked to the Flyers locker room with your girl best friend, Lana. Your other best friend was one of the Flyers best known forwards, Travis Konecny. Not by choice sadly. They had just won a game in Chicago against the blackhawks 4-2.

As you and Lana knocked on the door to the locker room, your face went red as The Flyers pretty boy opened the door, Nolan Patrick. His hair was glazed in a shiny coat, as he just hopped out of the locker room showers, a towel hung lowly on his hips. You cleared your throat as you looked away before speaking. “Travis wanted me to meet him in the locker room- after the game.” You had to take a breath between your words.

Lana had noticed and smirked, “but obviously he is busy, do you think you could show us around?” Lana asked with a devious smile as you glared at her. She had this way of knowing, and you despised that sometimes. Most of the time.

Nolans brows were raised in a bit of confusion? Intimidation? Who knew how Lana made the poor boy feel. He simply nodded, his roses cheeks a little rosier, you noticed as you walked in. You deterred your eyes from all the half naked teammates you’ve met many times before , not finding the upmost sense in wanting to see what you considered your older brothers pretty much naked.

Travis found you a few minutes later, greeting Lana with a hug, which you didn’t think too much of. He then ruffled your hair with his wet hand. He didn’t even bother to dry off before finding you. His mess of hair covering his eyes. “Ok shaggy I get it, your happy, now what did you want me to meet you here for again?” You asked as you crossed your arms, popping your hip.

Travis rolled his eyes playfully. “Ok Ms. ‘don’t be happy for your best friend that Just scored a goal’ “ he exaggerated. He chuckled before looking over and whistling to Nolan, who walked over, now having a pair of grey sweat pants with a yellow T-shirt. Nolan had a confused look, still having not spoken to you yet. You started to blush as he came over but hid it as you looked at Travis and him standing in front of you. “Y/n this is Nolan. Patty this is my best friend y/n”. Travis spoke with the most shit eating grin ever. He knew you’ve had a crush on Nolan since you first saw him in the draft.

Your jaw wanted to come unhinged. Was your brother really stupid enough to believe you didn’t know who the gorgeous, roses cheeked, long haired man in front

Of you was? You realized you had gone into shock as Lana had nudged you to bring you back to present day. You shook your head. “Um hi?,” you spoke. ‘Nice I so just blew it’ you thought to yourself as you saw Nolan uncomfortably move next to Travis.

Lana piped up beside you, “sorry about her, she’s grouchy, she didn’t have her margarita today yet.” She said with a small laugh, trying to make the uncomfortable smog go away.

Before you could reply, Nolan started speaking. “Well if that’s the case why don’t we change that,” he spoke as if he’d knew you since you were a kid. You were shocked. “She’d love to!” Your best friend answered as you stumbled to get your words out. The blood rushing to your cheeks as you nodded, “that would be nice- great! That sounds great..” you chuckled nervously as you moved a strand of your hair behind your ear.

Nolan had a smile sneaking into his face as he looked at you, “then it’s a plan, I’ll pick you up at 8.” He said. No. Told. He told you. There was no question. Travis had a smirk on his face when you looked back at your sneering best friend . Oh he was so dead when you got home.

“Bye Travis!,” Lana yelled as she dragged you back to her rental Jeep. Heading to the hotel you two were staying in to get you ready for your little outing with the Nolan Patrick. You were going to be sick.

“Lana I can’t do this, he’s my brothers teammate! He’s practically my brother!” You argued as she forced you into a slim fitting outfit. A pair of slim fitting ‘ripped in the right places’ jeans. That’s what Lana said anyway, and a low v-neck top with a pair of simple black boots to finish it off. She even did your makeup. “Ugh would you stop overthinking y/n! He obviously likes you, he asked you on a date for fucks sake!” She argued back.

After about an hour of you and your best friend arguing to eachother, you realized you were dressed and there was knock at the door. You gulped as you glanced at Lana, “what if-“ she had cut you off immediately. “Ah ah I don’t want to hear it, you’ll be fine, just be yourself, but don’t do anything I would do” she winked at you. You smiled at your best friend. “You so owe me a tub of cookie dough after today,” you relied. After a few last touched and making sure your wedgie wasn’t showing, you walked down stairs.

When you got to the door, you took a deep breath before you opened it with a smile seeing Nolan dressed in a button up, with a casual blue jeans and dress shoes. “hey-“ Nolan spoke before looking you up and down, “wow” he mumbled under his breath. Oh boy you were so falling. You smiled at him. “I hope I’m not to over dressed,” you said quietly. Nolan shook his head in disagreement, “are you kidding, no wonder TK never told us about you.” He chuckled. You blushed at the comment, had your best friend really not mentioned you for that reason? Oh well. Lana was spying from the stairs, texting Travis the whole time of what was happening. She decided to pop in “Oh would you just kiss already!” You sore you couldn’t ran right back up those stairs and tacked her at that moment, but you fight back the gasp that was fighting to escape your lips. Clearing your throat you apologized for your friend as you closed the door behind you. You realized he was blushing...

The car ride to the bar was relatively small talk, about Travis, hockey, Nolan’s hair and how it was perfectly styled. When you got to the bar he even opened your door for you, holding his hand around the low of your back as you walked into the bar. It wasn’t like any bar you had ever been taken to, it was gorgeous.

You two had sat down, he ordered his beer of choice as you ordered your favorite margarita. Nolan smiled as your eyes lit up as the taste hit your tongue. You covered your mouth with your hand “oh my gosh how have I never been here,” you said as you took bother sip, wiping the little residue off your lip with your thumb, looking up to see Nolan looking at you with hooded eyes. You grinned, you were going to enjoy tonight.

The rest of your time at the bar consisted of drinking way too much alcohol and having to order and Uber back to the hotel the team was staying at for the few nights they were here in Chicago. It was a beautiful city, you and Nolan sitting almost close enough to smell the beer off each other’s breath. You were pointing out the pretty lights against the Chicago night sky. Nolan looked at you with a smile, a needy one.

You got to the hotel, stumbling into the elevator you held yourself up again the Flyers forward. “You’re pretty,” you slurred slightly, almost to the point of blackout drunk. But if there was any night you wanted to remember when you woke up, it was tis one. Nolan chuckled at your complement, petting your head with a kind stroke of his hand. As the elevator dinged, he helped you to his room. Unlocking the door to see Travis... and Lana in bed together. Together!

Lana squealed as she hid herself under the white sheets. Travis wide eyed but laughing. You face palmed. “Oh whatever,” you said as you had Nolan in tow to the bed on the other side of the room. You kicked your shoes off before pulling your shirt over your head, retailing the black and orange lace bra you wore ‘just in case’ . Nolan’s jaw dropped as he stood there like a golden doodle drilling at a treat. You finished undressing before sliding under the sheets.

Your two best friends were drunk enough they forgot you were there, already back to their *buisness*. You snapped your fingers as you pointed to the spit next to you, “I will fall asleep if you aren’t beside me in five seconds Patrick.” Yup said as you took your hair out of the lose bun it was in.

Before you knew it, your skin was cold, the sheets having been pulled off of you for Nolan to get into the bed and make his way over top of you. You gasped at the sudden contact against your lips, the soft, yet rough sensation sending chills down your bare body. Nolan pulled away and shushed you quietly, nodding over to where your best friends had finished their love session and had fallen asleep. You nodded, understanding he wanted you to be quiet.

“You don’t want them hearing you now do you?” He whispered in your ear as he kissed down the skin of your neck to your collar bin, slipping the orange and black lace down your shoulders as his other hand had made it’s way behind your back and unclamped the lace from your body. He smirked as it slipped off your skin. You instinctively tried covering yourself. Nolan shook his head, gently pulling your arms away from yourself and putting them above your head. “Let me show you how beautiful you are,” he spoke as he finished undressing you and himself.

Needles to say, it wasn’t your first time, but boy were you nervous. Nolan was by far the most attractive man you’ve ever laid your eyes on, let alone been in bed with.

Nolan had magic hand on and off the ice, you were learning this very quickly. He had latched his mouth onto your little pink nipple, sucking and tugging gently, causing an eruption of feelings coarse through your body. You were enjoying every second of this, almost forgetting your best friends were to the right of you as a soft moan escaped your lips. The sound causing Nolan to hum against your sensitive skin, the vibrations almost pulling another sound out of you.

He had made his way between your folds, the warmth of your wetness engulfing his fingers as he dive into you, relentlessly. The rhythm he set drove you insane with euphoria, loving every second. The sudden stop caused you to whine, rolling your hips to try and find friction. “That needy are we,” he said in a raspy, now sex ridden voice. He smirked as he met your soft lips with his chapped ones. You heard Travis mumble and a soft moan from your best friend “Great, everyone is having sex,” you said breathlessly against Nolan’s lips, hearing subtle chuckles from Lana, the last you heard of her through the night.

You thrived against Nolan’s roughness, not ever thinking you would be squirming under number 19.

While distracted by the pace set by his mouth you tensed as you felt him push into you, hot and heavy, his cock no where near what you’ve had before. Reaching places you didn’t know were there before. You had to bite your lip as your eyes squeezed shut as you adjusted to the sheer size of this man. After a few minutes of him marking you up, leaving bruises with his mouth along your neck and boobs, your hips started to move, trying to feel every inch of him. He got the idea and started pounding in and out of you, you both knew neither of you were going to last long, not with how many drinks were in you and the sexual tension that had been pent up all night.

He sat up as he pulled out of you and flipped you over onto your stomach, pushing back into you and he twisted his hand into your hair, pulling you up just to where you could barley hold your self up. The bed was betraying your promise of being quiet. Nolan was rough, and you loved it, smacking your ass as his other hand pulled your hips against his. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he grunted as his thrust started getting faster and sloppier. Your hands fisted into the Sheetz as your mascara had ran down your face. You felt yourself clench around him before he pulled out, bellowing a hushed moan as he came across your back, breathing heavily. He took a second, before getting up and sneaking to the bathroom as you laid there in your own sweat and mascara, motionless. God forbid you had to fly back to Phili tomorrow..

Nolan returned with a warm cloth, cleaning you up and slipping his t shirt over your head, him already having his boxers on. He wiped your running mascara from your face, leaving kisses where he wiped. You were asleep by the time he got back to the bed after throwing the wipe away.

~~~Morning~~~

All four of you woke up Late in the morning, hungover and still smelling like sex. No one even bothered speaking a word of last night, except the team. “What happened to you guys-“ Claude Giroux asked with a confused look. “There were only two beds!,” Travis complained. “And no one cared.” Nolan added with a shrug.

You and Lana looked at eachother with red faces, laughing as you got onto the team bus. Til next time Chicago...

#hockey #dallas stars #nolan patrick #travis konecny #nhl writing #nhl fanfiction

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dzamie-oc · 3 years ago

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15 - Floral

What’s so scary about a flower-breathing dragon? Well, the flowers, for starters. I rather like playing around with alternate breath weapons.

Length: 2100 words Rating: T (death, mild body horror) Summary: A man tells the tale of his failed expedition to slay a flower dragon, while a boy listens in.

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Isaac sat in the corner of the tavern, eating a sandwich his dad, the owner, had given him. He knew not to pester the customers - especially the well-armed ones - and in turn, he was protected by common decency and the knowledge that an adventurer who struck a child for no reason was on a fast track to get beaten up, themselves. So, he would often sit and listen to their tales of glory, and tonight was no exception. For now, he focused on one peculiar-looking fellow. His face was grizzled, and everything about him gave off an air of danger, and of experience with danger... with the exception of his left arm, which hung limply at his side, covered in wildflowers in all colors from the elbow down.

“Nice arm,” another patron had said, mockingly, “did you fist a dryad?”

“Like it?” the man growled, “the dragon of flowers is giving out free samples if’n you want one of yer own.”

This only seemed to spur the other fellow on, as he laughed and jeered, “you found a dragon that breathes FLOWERS, and you STILL got your ass kicked? I guess age catches up to everyone!”

They were joined by an elf. Isaac couldn’t tell if their ears were long enough to be a girl elf, but he could tell, even through their inhuman grace, that they were limping; a quick glance at their feet, and the boy saw one covered in flowers just like the man’s arm. “Appearances are deceiving,” they said. “Had we not taken its threat so lightly, perhaps we would not have left six corpses and a live dragon behind.”

The elf’s addition, at least, seemed to give the mocking man pause. “You lost six men? How?”

“Four men, two women,” the grizzled man corrected, “and it would’ve been five and three if the two of us hadn’t bolted before its second breath. As for how...

“The dragon’s lair was easy enough to find. Middle of the forest, suddenly there’s this huge, flowering... hedge of some kind. Only one way in, so we take it. It felt like being in a corn maze, except there’s flowers all over the place. Mildred, here (he gestured to the elf), suggested we use the old trick of sticking to one wall until we get through it, in case it is a maze. Turned out not to be, but it was a good idea nonetheless.

“So we’re walking through the dragon’s lair, or garden, or whatever, and we see this big, purple flower - seriously, like twice the size of my head - all closed up, like it hasn’t bloomed yet. The eight of us, we figure we should figure out what to do about it - cut it away, ignore it, or what. We don’t wanna burn it, because if the fire spreads, well, we’re right in the middle of it. But as most of us are standing around like clever people, this one hotshot - think his name was Tyrill or something - gets it into his mind that he should just go up and whack it. With his fist. And it’s not until he’s got his fist cocked back, readying a punch, that we see him, and before we can drag him away or even shout at him not to be stupid, POW! He smacks the flower. And it explodes! Well, it opens in an instant and a purple gas bursts out. Most of us are able to retreat back away from it, but Tyrill obviously gets a face full of it.

“Now, obviously we want to get him away from whatever that flower was, but none of us are stupid enough to run into the mysterious purple gas, so we just wait there. And Tyrill just turns to us, says ‘hey guys, I found the dragon!’ and then... plants his face into the middle of the flower. Not even like it’s a pillow. The petals close up around his head, and start dragging him through the hedge. None of us wanted to leave him to die, of course, but that gas made him do... whatever that was, so we couldn’t risk it. I assume he died, of course, but it’s not like any of us actually saw the bodies.

“We continued on, following the winding trail through the flowers, and then saw what looked like a pair of jaws, but plant. Or, if you held your hands like this (he pressed his forearms and hands together, then opened his hands and curled his fingers in - a venus fly trap, although neither Isaac nor the taverngoers knew of such a plant). This part here, this isn’t how we lost all those folks, but how to avoid losing more if you try to follow in our footsteps. Now, I don’t recall what exactly we used - Mildred, do you? No? Ah well, it’s not important - but we threw something small at it. A knife or a stick. The damn thing snapped shut faster than you could blink, in case someone had accidentally brushed it while walking by.

“There was also this one flower, growing easily a dozen feet up, with a thick, sturdy-looking stem. We rested for a while near it, and for some reason, one of the gang decided to lean against the plant. You’d think we would’ve known by then, but, well, I guess she was tired. None of us paid any heed until she said it felt itchy, and when she tried to move away, it had stuck fast to her - or she had stuck fast to it. Me and one of the other guys tried to pull her off of it, but it didn’t work - the guy planted his foot against the stem for leverage, but all that did was get it stuck, too. Poor dude had to keep going with only one boot. Still, a better fate than the lady found. I can’t say what, exactly, it was doing to her, but she started screaming in pain at some point and couldn’t stop ‘til she was hoarse. Healing magic helped for a while, but it would always start back up again, until she pleaded for us to not waste the magic and to stop making her suffer longer.”

The grizzled man finished off his drink and stared down at the table. “I’ll confess to some measure of cowardice, aside from fleeing the dragon,” he said, “she asked for a swift death, and I faltered. One of the others had to be the one to grant her that.

“...anyway, where was I? Right, well, it turned out that the dragon was waiting just further ahead, in a flower-covered clearing. Dozen feet long and a tail to match, white scales with yellow and green patches, a flower tucked under each horn, and at the end of its tail was a big, purple flow- oh, gods above. Mildred, I think I know what happened to Tyrill. The dragon, its tail ended in a purple flower, and it looked awfully lumpy, like there was something under its scales. I don’t know how, but I think its tail... ate him.

“It said... something. I think it asked us a question, but I don’t think any of us were paying attention to the words of a beast. I made sure no more strange flowers would somehow strike from behind us, Mildred drew her bow, and three of the others just charged right at it. The dragon took a deep breath, and a moment later, three bodies fell to the ground, covered in these flowers.” He held up his arm to show his botanical injury. His story had attracted the attention of several other people in the tavern, and someone had ordered the man another drink. “Even those who tried to shield themselves, all that did was cover their shield in flowers as well.”

One of the onlookers asked, “so, did you get caught on the edge of the blast?”

The man shook his head. “No, the first one only hit those three, but the other three of us quickly bolted before it could take a better shot. Unluckily for us, we had to run down a straight path away from it, and so it got off a second attack just as we rounded the corner. Well, Mildred and I. Samuel - I think it was Samuel who hung back as well - lost both legs, an arm, and a fair amount of his upper body. Last I saw of him, he shouted at us to leave him and run. And run we did, as quick as we could while not running into any more of those crazy plants. It was a stroke of luck that we didn’t find any other beasties as we fled back here.” His gaze swept around the table. “And that, boys, is why I’ve no shame in admitting I ran from a ‘flower dragon.’”

With his story concluded, a few of the others swore vengeance on the dragon, while others told them to stop fooling about. Isaac, however, made plans of his own.

Late at night, the boy crept out from his room and snuck out of his home. With a jar full of dirt, Isaac wandered through the dark woods, on a mission. Before long, he found himself before a hedge of flowers that bloomed even at night. The boy took a deep breath, put on his best serious face, and stepped inside.

He kept his eyes peeled for weird flowers, and, on seeing a big, red one, stopped well before it. “Mister flower dragon?” he called, though not too loud in case the dragon was asleep. “Or, miss flower dragon? The man didn’t say. Your flowers are very pretty.”

Something rustled in the hedge to one side. Isaac took a step away, just before a draconic head poked through a foot or two above his head. The dragon looked around, then noticed and focused on the boy. It tilted one way, and asked, “aren’t humans diurnal? It’s very deep into the night for a human.”

“I don’t think I’d be allowed to go if I tried during the day.”

“Ah, a young one. And what brings you to my home, little one?” The dragon stepped out of the hedge as though it wasn’t there, and laid down around Isaac. His way deeper and his way out were cut off by white, yellow, and green scales, but he found it didn’t scare him much. “I hope you aren’t thinking I’ll eat a bully for you. ...well, maybe if you can lure them here.”

Isaac shook his head, then held out the jar. “I saw the flowers you gave that man’s arm, and they were very pretty. May I have some? Only, not on my body, because my dad would freak out.”

“I would hope so, or I think he would not be a very concerned father. Set the jar down, and I’ll give you some flowers.” Isaac did so, and the dragon breathed over the opening of the jar. Colorful flowers immediately sprouted and bloomed in the jar, as well as on the ground around it. Isaac took another step back, just in case, and found himself nearly stumbling over the dragon’s tail. “Now, if you put just a drop or two of blood a week in the pot, they should stay nice and healthy. It doesn’t have to be yours, it doesn’t have to be human. Use a mouse if you like.”

The boy, however, was staring at its tail, which looked kind of lumpy on the underside. “Did you really eat that guy with your tail?” he asked.

The dragon shook its head. “My tail doesn’t eat, only holds. I will let him out in the morning, but for now, he is in a deep sleep. ...did you hear what to do with the flowers?”

“Oh, okay then. In the story, he didn’t really do anything, so that would have been very mean to eat him for just that.” The sound of the dragon’s claw tapping the jar drew his attention, so he nodded. “Do I have to water them, too?”

“No, although it won’t kill them.”

Isaac picked up the jar again and slowly climbed over the dragon’s body, taking care not to kick it. “Okay, thank you! I’m glad you’re really nice and aren’t gonna eat that guy.”

The dragon laughed. “Of course. Four is more than enough to keep me going for a week; this enthusiastic fellow can leave if he likes.” As it watched Isaac walk back towards the entrance, it began to slip back through the hedge. “Goodnight, little one.”

“Goodnight, flower dragon! Thanks again for the flowers; I’ll take good care of them.”

Unseen by Isaac, a scaly head with a flower behind each horn popped up above the tall hedge, watching him depart. If any creature got too close, it found itself beset by flowers.

#dragon #dragons #smaugust #flower #floral #writing #writers on tumblr #tw body horror #tw death #smaugust 2021 #text

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midas-or-khaos · 4 years ago

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Wrong place, Wrong time. Part 1

God of war x borrower oc story

“-And remember, DON’T touch anything! Reavers aren’t exactly a clean bunch,” a gurgling followed. “Ugh, really bad at keeping anything clean in fact.” The poor man really could be a worry wart at times (and a clean freak as always).

“Sindri, I’ll be fine. I promise! Cross my heart and everything. The whetstone will probably be kept somewhere safe if it’s precious enough to be stolen, so it’ll hopefully be clean when I find it.”

“Oh. Well, I hadn’t thought of that. Just...stay safe ok? And don’t get caught!”

“I won’t, I never do. See you soon!”

Reluctantly the dwarf answered,“See you soon jojo.” But the poor dwarf’s knee couldn’t stop shaking, thinking about worst case scenarios. Jojo knew he’d just have to prove poor Sindri wrong once again. Maybe one of these days he’d actually learn there was no use worrying himself into a frenzy. Taking off, the 5 inch figure wasn’t stopped as he scurried along natural ledges in walls, and began his descent into the heart of the earth.

Jojo didn’t see what all the worry was for. One of the few perks of being a borrower was often big folk like Reavers or monsters were always too busy looking ahead for bean sized people, that they never looked far enough down to see him. He knew the dwarf didn’t like asking him for help, even though the boy often came to Sindri’s shop outside ‘Fafnir’s storeroom’ (or whatever he called it) asking for challenges and new borrowing spots.

Most borrowers would call it suicide to be talking to beans and other big folk, ESPECIALLY with all the new monsters that have started popping up recently. Hel walkers they’re called apparently. But Jojo wasn’t most. He’d sought out his favourite Dwarf and brother when his parents died drowning in the lake of nine when the waters suddenly flooded, leaving their 8 year old son to fend for himself. Not immediately, obviously. No, at that point he was still a weedy little scaredy cat himself, not able to be even in the same area when footstep started to shake the earth. It could only last so long though. He hadn’t been old enough to be taken out borrowing before being left alone, and supplies ran low quickly. So, spurt of the desperate, when he saw the two set up shop outside his home in the foothills, the child decided to stride right out into the open and ask for food.

4 years later and he still never regretted that decision. Still scrawny, “the side effect of being young” said Brok, but definitely more confident. Brok taught him a lot of that confidence (and a whole lot of swear words too, despite Sindri’s attempts to undo his brother’s work) and Sindri taught him kindness and generosity. The generosity was only spent on the brothers, because who else was he going to see? No borrower would trust another that hung around beans, and Sindri wouldn’t let him be found by anyone if he had anything to say about it, but kindness he tried to show all IF he could without getting sliced in half.

Gathering focus for the change in environment, the world became darker. White, natural light was flittering out, slowly being replaced by the ethereal glow of blue crystals bouncing off liquid smooth stone corridors leading into a fatal drop. An underground ravine. Nothing had shown its face yet, though the odd grunt of some undead beastie would make itself known now and then. Being so small meant there was no need to cross the water below, or find ways to get the chain ropes down so as to climb across. All he had to do was stick close to the roof where stalactites could be leapt between till he reached some valley in the wall to rest. Nothing too hard. Looking for the fist place to jump, a low hanging spine was just a couple of feet away (to Jojo); taking a leap of faith, the boy managed to snag the tail end. Right, next one. Leaping like a lemur the drop was easily avoided, and soon something came into view. Sunlight yellow was beginning to mix with the unnatural blue, and Jojo knew there was an opening into the outside world around the corner. Good, finally he would be able to see, though he would be easier to spot in the illumination of day.

Sindri

How had Brok convinced him to let Jojo go treasure hunting alone? So many traps, monsters, ancients even! “He’ll be fine” said Brok when the two had discussed it together during one of their rare ‘chats for important matters’. So nonchalantly Brok threw out, “Kid’s never been seen before, he ain’t gonna be now!” We’ll that was just testing fate wasn’t it! The rhythmic thumping of hammer to metal was doing nothing to take his mind off the matter, and a few too many near misses to his thumb told Sindri he wasn’t going to get any real work done at this rate. Perhaps he should have a break and go visit Ivaldi’s workshop?

“Hey Sindri!”

“Agh!!!!” Both hammer and work went flying overhead, just missing the flat of his skull. The lithe boy in question at least had the gall to go red, abashed as he walked over to the Dwarf’s workbench, scratching at the buzzed fuzz across the side his head.

“Sorry.”

“Well you should be! That could’ve hurt you OR me, and all the infections that could get in-”

“Boy, be careful.”

The source of the voice sat further back up the slate corridor, hidden in shadow, hawkish gold glowed beneath a heavy brow.

“Sorry father.” Atreus called back to the hidden figure.

With meaningful strides, the figure came into the light of day, bleach white skin, jet black beard and a crimson tattoo striped across an eye setting the figure apart as none other than his worst fear. Kratos. Why? Why were these two here?

“What brings you two to my place of work to scare me?”

Leaning on the edge of his (freshly cleaned) work bench, the spritely youth explained with excitement, “We’re gonna get that whetstone you wanted!”

Shit! He’d mentioned that to them, hadn’t he? Why had they come to fulfill that promise now, when they seemed so disinterest in before?

“O-o-ooooohhhhh yeahhhhhhh, THAT whetstone. Well...”

Atreus leaned in with a head tilt and a brow lifted, “...well? What’s wrong, did you find it already?”

“No-“

“-No? Then what’s the problem?”

“Speak clearly, we have come for the promise of improvements.” Straight to the point, both father and son were on edge now.

Damn it, he was digging a hole for himself again. Stupid mouth. Obviously, if the two of them went in those mines, there was a chance his kid would get spotted and wearing that rat skin outfit, either of the pair could mistake Jojo for an actual rat and hit him with something. Oooooo, that’s horrifying, don’t think about that! Ughhhh don’t vomit! Don’t-...But On the other hand, there was a chance that the father/son duo could clear the way and make it safer for his boy to get back. And more searching eyes makes for less work. Sindri would just have to encourage them not to be too... liberal with their killing.

“Yes the offer is still there, but you must heed this warning.”

“You mentioned no warning before, why?” The irritation lacing the bestial man’s tone didn’t keep itself hidden, growls billowing out that barrel chest. The dwarf didn’t shirk away like a turtle. Not at all.

“O-oh-well-I didn’t know before. Bbbbut I got new information...from Brok. He said not tooooooo... kill the ratssssss?”

The growls took a higher pitch.

“Errrrr, ok? Are the rats protected are something?” Quizzed Atreus, bringing the blacksmith off the subject of the terrifying god before him. A perfect excuse.

“YES! Yes, sorry, the rats are the protected subjects of Freya. Wouldn’t want to upset her right?!”

“Oh! Well, she never mentioned that when we met her.” These two met FREYA! Of course they had, who was he kidding, they’d met everyone and probably started a fight with them too.

“Must’ve slipped her mind, now hurry up! Don’t want any drauger or wolves to get their disgusting hands all over it! Otherwise it’ll be so dirty even I won’t be able to clean it!”

The excuse was enough. The two turned (but not before the kid’s enthusiastic good bye) and disappeared below the cramped passage into the inky black mines, their footsteps echoing out.

“Please let this be the right idea.” Huffed out Sindri with stale, held breath, shaking his head at his own recklessness.

Jojo

Making the last of his descent down the sheer cliff walls, vibrant green broke the dead stone and made life at the edge of the darkness. The sweet ache from overworked tendons and muscles began the slow process of slipping away, fresh air and bird song rejuvenating the boy’s ambition to find his prize, a grin pulling at bubbly cheeks. He was halfway now! Strolling through the ivy, form barely making a rustle, sunlight illuminated the boy’s way through the thickets. Brok mentioned that before he reached the main chamber where the actual traps and treasure was kept, there was a ‘small’ field for him to cross with bits of precious metals along the way. Jojo knew he’d need to make height soon in order to know where he was going, but this time it’d have to be calculated; all black stood out in all this greenery. Now where to go? Rocks. He could use the rocks as an outpost to look out: dark coloured, easy to climb and easy to blend into. Just a matter of reaching it. Strolling through the ivy, the speckled light beaming on the crumbled earth was just enough to guide the way forward, boots barely making a sound.

Squawk

Stopping dead, a cold trail prickled along his back. The boy made the slowest tilt back possible to peak throught the canopy, trying to avoid detection. Too late, looking with a ghostly green eye, a monsterous raven was stalking with keen interest, perched almost serenely upon it’s watch point. Ravens weren’t notorious borrower hunters, seeing people like him often as a chore to catch and consume. But rats...rats were their favourite.

And he was dressed as one.

Atreus

“Father, what do you think had Sindri so shook?”

“Anything, boy. The dwarf has a talent for fear.” No denying that, agreed the doe eyed boy. Sindri did fear just about everything.

Crouching did nothing for the chalk giant, disgruntled grunts sounding out amongst the overhead drips of droplets every time his bald head scraped the sandpaper rough ceiling. It’s one of the few examples in life that made Atreus happy to be short. Yowls were coming from further into the mineshaft, but drauger were a minor setback, easily dispatched.

“Be on your guard boy, we are nearing danger.”

Jojo

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-“ How could one bird be more persistent then all the drauger in the world?

SSSSSQQQQUUUUUAAAAAARRRRRRRKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!

Too close! Every attack was only wearing the borrower down more; the saving grace from this endless stream of dive bombs was that in the bird’s haste, it made enough flapping to give its location away at all times, making it easier to dodge. But now Jojo was lost, lost and close to just falling down if his quaking limbs were anything to go by.

Atreus

“Well that was easy.”

A sagely look was drawn toward Atreus, not angry, but not impressed, “Easy because there are two of us, boy, but don’t let your guard down because you perceive an enemy as ‘easy’.”

Always one to lecture. “Yes sir.”

The cave entrance as coming into sight, stoic father and brash son walking side by side. With electrical arrows at the ready and frosty axe drawn the odd pair walked into daylight, sun illuminating the thick blood staining their skin and wares. Both were ready for any kind of battle ahead, be it fierce or simple.

Well, except for the kind of battle that they stumbled onto.

“Father? What’s wrong with that bird?” Quizzed Atreus, looking up, but Kratos was busy scanning the wooded field

“It hunts for prey boy, pay it no mind.” No beating around the bush.

“But it looks like one of Odin’s crows.”

The barely there expression of strained, chalk temples and widening, heavy set eyes might as well have been a scream.“Shoot it down.”

This rarity was not lost on the boy, heart pounding in response. If his ever-stoic dad was frightened, this was more of a danger than he had anticipated. Wasting no time, Atreus locked on as the bird went for another dive, and let loose a wizzing arrow. It fired true puncturing the breast and punching through to the other side with a resounding crack of the rib cage. The creature never hit its mark, breaking apart in a surprising burst of green flame, but never actually setting anything on fire. The witchcraft of Odin was strange indeed.

The boy couldn’t feel pleasure out of his elegant kill, still too shaken by what he’d seen. Atreus knew better than to ask his father what was wrong, the man would switch on him like a rabid dog driven mad by rabies if any fear was ever acknowledged.

“We go on, boy.”

Kratos took the lead, heading further uphill into the tree trunk horizon, sun spilling over the crest and illuminating some of the lower valley where the boy stood. Atreus made no move to follow. If he was to get answers, it would have to be now whilst his father charged on unaware. Tip toeing over to where the bird would have fallen, eyes trained on his father, the archer found his arrow wedged fast into the soft earth with wandering hands. Turning his gaze for just a moment to inspect his find, there were signs of burns, suggesting that the animal must’ve been made of pure magic; probably a spy of some kind if Odin had anything to do with it, the man was notoriously suspicious and crafty (even all seeing as his mother had mentioned) so would want to know at all times what was going on in midguard. Hold on... pulling the tip of the spear out, a rat skin sat pierced at the end. Weird thing was though, it was clean, even looking tanned on the inside like some kind of weird miniature hooded tunic! This wasn’t an animal the crow had caught and killed, but clearly was worn by the thing that the bird was after on the ground. Wait... Sindri mentioned not killing any rats, but this one was allowed to die and be made into clothes, meaning Freya wasn’t protecting the rats at all. Sindri was lying, he was protecting whoever wore this tunic-

“BOY! COME!”

Oops. He’d zoned out too long.

“Father, I think Sindri was lying!”

Footstep were coming down behind him in a charge. Curiosity wouldn’t let him leave, but flight was making his feet flitter and shake, ready to take off from the raging bull behind him.

“Did I just not tell you to follow?! The dwarf is of no concern-“ Fighting curiosity won over.

“DAD! Just. Look.”

Turning back and presenting the tunic to the man who’d finally reached him, the golden hue burned brightly with hatful embers down at the find. Just as quickly the gaze focused back on the child. He neither cared nor understood.

“It’s a tunic, made from the skin of a rat. Sindri said the rats here were under the protection of Freya, but if that were true, this one wouldn’t be dead and Odin’s ravens wouldn’t dare go after it. Sindri’s hiding something.”

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hetacakes · 5 years ago

Text

hitchhiking.

miya twins x fem! reader

snow white au, aka me making fanfics about my own fanfic

in which reader leaves her home in the big apple, the busy city, the whatever you'd like to call it, and takes a trip to a forest, the literal opposite of home. in fact, the two places are so different that in order to get there, a plane ride is preferable over a road trip. after a week, it's time to go home, with souvenirs, of course. leaving with a heavier bag is to be expected, but the empty backpack meant for said souvenirs was a bit too heavy, suspiciously heavy

aka reader just wants to relax and ends up bringing two hitchhiker foxes home

the others aren't included in this one, sorry :( one certain bluebird will make a guest appearance but other than that the storyline is in no way connected to snow white (though i made a few ~allusions~ for the Drama) anyway, i hope you love these annoying foxes as much as i do <3

also this is borderline abo but in my defense i wanted to make them seem more animal-like since they're technically wild animals

warning for cussing because life is hard and osamu hates atsumu

word count: 9,505

You grew up in the suburbs, always just a half hour away from the big, bustling city, where everything is fast paced with streams of people working and struggling to make their dreams come true. So it was no surprise that when you were old enough to move out, you immediately made a home in a rundown, shitty apartment, taking the typical "small apartment, big dreams" approach to life. And it was true, you did have a dream, a big dream. While you could have been anything else: a doctor, a lawyer, a profession that would make your parents happy and keep you reliably comfortable your whole life, you could never picture forcing yourself to work through something that made you unhappy, and so you decided to take the writer path.

It was as if you were meant to be part of the busy metropolis, meant to be the same as everyone else in the crowd: broke, fresh out of uni, and barely paying the rent for a small, crappy apartment. You soon learned that dreaming to reach your dream job, a job where working hours weren't physically and mentally draining but were rather hours of doing what you loved, would only become more than just a dream at the price of your blood, sweat, and tears, just like it did for everyone else.

But after working your ass off and putting two books on store shelves, you were able to end your contract with the sketchy landlord in the shady part of town and move into a nicer, actually livable apartment in a better building with a better landlord in a better neighborhood.

Now when you stepped out of your complex, you were greeted with the refreshing sight of people passing by, the sky a clear blue, with a soft breeze you could feel underneath your windbreaker as it ruffled your hair and rustled your sleeves, the bright red, blue, and yellow fabric almost as bright as the sun overhead. Birds chirped in nearby trees, and if you walked around and looked for a while, you could find a few cats hanging around the sidewalk or hiding behind dumpsters.

It was all you could have ever asked for and more.

But sometimes, city life can be a distraction, and sometimes, you really, really need a change of pace and scenery.

Which brought you to the present, sitting with your legs underneath you on your soft couch, squishing the plush grey throw pillows and balancing your laptop on your thighs. The money you got from your newest releases was in no means enough to call you rich, but it was comfortable enough that costs weren't one of your concerns as you typed a quick Google search. An airline website was open on your screen, and you were browsing through the available tickets, looking for one that would take you to a nice getaway, a small break from the nonstop chaos of your city, which had finally begun to wear you out from the endless stress and sleepless nights.

"Seven day long camp resort in one of the country's most beautiful and idyllic forests," said the advertisement that popped up on the side of your browser. Clicking on it, it took you to a pretty convincing website about Inari Lodge, a tourist attraction in the middle of a forest you had never heard of before. Lists upon lists of hiking trails, forest tours, and crafted souvenir shops caught your eye, and before you knew it you were booking a week's stay in one of their cabins. Sealing the deal and buying your ticket, you sat back and sighed, ready for a vacation.

Two weeks later, it was a few hours before your flight, so obviously you had already packed. Not. You called a friend over to help and keep you company while you packed, and ten minutes later, a familiar brunet walked through the door, ruffling his chocolate brown locks.

"It's nice to see you, Tooru," you greeted, padding closer to him as he opened his arms for a hug. "Your hugs are the best, as always," you smiled up at him, before taking a step back.

"You would have seen me either way; I was just on my way to bother you," he said. "You're taking a trip without me? How will I survive without you?"

"Don't be dramatic, Ruru," you chided, pulling your suitcase onto your bed. "I know for a fact that the week I'm gone is the same week the team you're coaching has tournaments."

"Ugh, don't remind me. They're good kids, but they suck ass," Tooru groaned, flopping next to your suitcase. "Do you have everything you need?"

"You tell me. Check things off," you answered while looking through your closet.

"Oooh, do I get to see your clothes?" Tooru asked suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes at him. "My shirts and pants, yeah. Everything under that has been packed into this," you said, holding up a medium sized makeup pouch.

"Bummer. Oh well, there's always next time."

"Ruru, stop being dirty."

He grumbled something underneath his breath, low enough that you missed it. "Well, how long is the stay?"

"A week."

"So you need seven sets of clothes?"

"Yeah, assuming I don't pee my pants," you smiled over your shoulder, watching as Oikawa held back a laugh with his hand, a wide smile spread across his face.

"Haha, you got the whole squad laughing. How cold is it there?"

"It's pretty cold, apparently. I'm not surprised, it's farther north than where we live, and it gets pretty chilly here sometimes," you answered, pulling a few sweaters out of your closet, pairing it with random pairs of jeans you grabbed, and passed them to Tooru, who folded and put them in your suitcase.

"Aww, aren't I such husband material? Wait here wifey, I'm gonna get your stuff from the bath," Oikawa winked, throwing up a peace sign at you before he turned and disappeared behind the white door.

"Can you get my toothbrush stuff too? Thank you~," you called after him in a sweet singsong voice.

You glanced at your bookbag, still on your couch, just where you left it. You looked at the scarf in your hands, a large white scarf too bulky to wear, and decided to throw it in there, along with your laptop and charger. You put an extra pair of comfortable boots in a reusable bag, neatly settling it between your clothes. Tooru handed you another bag, and a peek inside showed you your bath and bathroom essentials. You flashed a grateful smile at him, before turning and grabbing the last few items to throw in your bookbag-turned-carry-on, which included your notebook full of your messy brainstorming, a pack of pens, and your phone charger. Zipping your suitcase closed, you pulled up the handle and hung your bag around it.

"Okay, I'm ready. I've got everything, except you," you winked mischievously at Tooru.

"You're flirting! It's not fair," he complained, hand grabbing at his heart, the other draped dramatically over his forehead.

"Guilty as charged," you winked, throwing up a finger heart. "Drive me to the airport?"

"Of course, babe."

You had already checked in your suitcase, got your ticket safely in your hand, and all that was left for you to do was wait an hour or so until boarding. You turned to Tooru, giving him one last hug. "I'm gonna miss you and the others, Ruru," you whispered softly, even though you were only leaving for a week.

Tooru hugged you back, holding you tightly against his chest. He let you go, before taking a step back and pulling his hoodie over his head, his shirt riding up a bit, showing some skin for a split second. "Here, wear this," he said, handing it over to you.

You brightened, smiling like a thousand suns before slipping it on. It was huge on you, and you were almost drowning in the soft, teal blue fabric. He gave you a fond look, his eyes shining in such pure, unadulterated love that it took your breath away for a moment.

"Thank you, Tooru."

"Keep it warm for me, okay?"

"I know, I know, I promise you'll see it when I come back."

He gave you one last hug, short and sweet, before walking away, turning to look back at you one last time. You stood there until the doors slid closed behind his back, a soft smile on your face, before you turned away and walked to your terminal, hoping to kill time either shopping, eating, or sleeping.

You could finally lean back and relax once you were secured in your seat, miles in the air. Boarding and finding your aisle wasn't much of a hassle, thank the gods, and the glass of the plane window was refreshingly cool against the tip of your nose as you peered down at the clouds passing by. You held your bookbag against your chest, looking inside at the empty space in between the few items you did pack into it. Your laptop was safely zipped up in its designated pouch, along with its charger and your notebook, and the pack of pens that had somehow opened inside the pocket, which you had found out earlier as you tried to fish one out but instead pulled the empty cardboard packaging. Your phone charger was the only thing laying on the scarf you threw in there, a makeshift nest for nothing. Well, nothing yet.

You were excited to spend a week in a completely different environment, surrounded by lush forestry and the coos and calls of whatever animals lived there, a place where you're never truly alone, but in a good way. It was a stark contrast from the car fumes in the city air, with the only plant life in a park square and the only sounds are the constant chatter and hum of people and cars finding their destinations. There never once was an hour of silence, and while you had been able to enjoy it as your background noise while writing, it wasn't long until you finally got tired of it. You could've sworn that the city had gotten louder on purpose just to exhaust and stress you out every night, so you were more than ready to finally be able to clear your head and maybe even flesh out an idea or two.

The sound of the intercoms crackling to life made you jolt, holding a hand to the cold imprint on your cheek left from sleeping against the window. The pilot announced that the plane was descending, and you gathered your bag and Tooru's hoodie, bundling them both in your arms.

Truth be told, you were glad to step off the plane. You felt the chill of the outside while walking off the plane through the passenger boarding bridge and stood for a second to put the hoodie back on, humming slightly at Tooru's smell still on the cloth, a nice, sweet but not too sweet scent that made you smile to yourself.

You got lost in thought, so your body was on autopilot when you went to pick up your luggage and almost picked up the wrong suitcase, until the actual owner picked it up first, eyeing you weirdly. With guilty, heated cheeks, you grabbed your suitcase, checked it once, then twice, then three times, and finally hopped into an Uber as fast as you could, hoping that you wouldn't be starting your first day on vacation dying of embarrassment.

You hurriedly thanked the driver for dropping you off, then made your way into a wooden building, the wood a warm oak with a little golden bell that chimed as you walked in. A woman behind the desk smiled at you, and you sighed, happy to have nothing to worry about, now that you were finally there.

"Hello, welcome to Inari Lodge! Is there something I can help you with?"

"Yes, please," you said, pulling your luggage close to you. "I reserved a cabin, and I need the keys, right?"

"Of course," she smiled at you, and for a quick second, you thought that she resembled a cat, with black hair and upturned eyes.

"Um, I'm sorry if I'm being intrusive, but are you a mom?"

"Haha, don't worry, you're fine! Yes I am, my name is Kozume Sakura, and I have a son," she answered kindly, and you couldn't help but feel relieved to finally have a good thing to improve your currently-going-badly day.

"Ah, it's just that you seemed familiar to someone I've seen around campus."

"Ah, that would most likely be my son," she said, a sweet smile spreading across her face. "Anyway, here are your keys, and I've written the directions to your cabin right here. Don't hesitate to come and ask me for anything, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," you nodded gratefully, making sure to wave goodbye as you walked out the doors, looking at the map in your hands.

"I can not believe how hard it was to find you," you said to the cabin as you flopped on the bed, tired of having such a conflicting day. You sat up quickly, slapping your cheeks, "No, I won't let a few fuck ups ruin everything for me."

Grabbing your phone, you slipped it into your hoodie pocket as you walked out the door, set on exploring the area.

You decided not to take an official trail, preferring to save them for later, which brought you to an ordinary worn dirt path as you walked aimlessly, taking rights and lefts as you pleased.

A rustling in the bushes lining the trail caught your attention. Just as you walked closer to separate the branches and peek through, a fox fell out of the leaves, as if something had pushed it out. The fox seemed to scowl at whatever had shoved it, before it turned its attention to you.

Before you could think better, you crouched on the ground as you cooed, resting your cheek in your palm. "Hello, cutie fox, how are you?"

The fox stared at you, which was good, because if it started speaking you would've booked it right then and there, but also bad, because you didn't know if it was irritated by your presence. It seemed to look warily at you, not ready to attack, but not fully trusting either.

"Come here, I want to pet you," you crooned, holding out the end of your sentence as you leaned forward against your better judgement, shifting your legs from against your chest to underneath you. Before it could make a decision, however, another fox jumped out of the bushes and straight into your arms, settling happily in your lap. Caught by surprise, you stared, while the first fox yipped at it, jumping forward and pushing it out of your lap. You watched as they tumbled to the ground, rolling as they fought and wrestled.

"Um, okay… I think I'll just go now, bye!" You quipped before turning around and walking steadily back to where you came from, not wanting to get caught up in a wild animal fight.

"Look at what ya did 'Tsumu, why do ya always mess everything up?"

"Me? Me?! You were the one that jumped me!"

"'Cause I didn't recall inviting you to our conversation, dumbass!"

"Yer a fuckin' fox, you can't talk! You're just jealous!"

"So are you! We're twins, shithead!"

And they kept arguing, voices carrying throughout the forest, even as they walked along the path the pretty, perfect, kind, and amazing love of their li— , ahem, the completely normal girl from earlier took, leading to the all too familiar lodge situated at the edge of their forest.

"That was close," you whispered to yourself as you leaned against the door, as if the foxes would be strong enough to bust it open. They hadn't even followed you, as you didn't hear them, and when you glanced behind you, nobody was there.

"Anyway, I guess I should plan out what I'm gonna do here, I don't want this trip to be a waste," you said, opening your suitcase and putting your clothes in the drawers, setting your bathroom essentials on top of it. You grabbed your bookbag from where you had thrown it on the bed and set it on a glass table. You pulled out your notebook and flipped to a blank page, cringing as you passed by page after page of chicken scratch.

"The only reason I can read my own handwriting is because I'm there when it's written," you muttered to yourself as you rummaged for a pen, finding one out of the set of five. You wrote down the days of the week you'd be staying there, with your first official day starting tomorrow, on Tuesday. Your flight back was scheduled for a week later, on Monday. You hummed happily, glad that your timetable worked out so neatly as you wrote down the days of the week, leaving enough space for a bullet list underneath.

On your last day at the lodge, you made sure to make a note to leave at noon at the latest, since your flight was at six in the afternoon, and you wanted to be extra, extra, extra sure that you would not miss it. Ideally, you would be all packed up Sunday night, but knowing you and your procrastinating self, you wrote it down for the day before, even though you knew you would probably be packing the day of, just as you did before.

You made sure to set Saturday as souvenir hunting day, hoping to bring back something for Tooru, a thank you for the help and hoodie.

The foxes you met earlier crossed your mind, but the grumbling of your stomach reminded you to get some dinner and wrap up your day. Holding the map out in front of you, you memorized the directions to a cafe not too far from your cabin, and went on your way.

"Hello, can I get the sandwich of the day with a cinnamon hot chocolate and a slice of pumpkin bread?"

"Of course! Here's your total."

The worker you were pleasantly talking to gave you a small smile before glancing to the side, as if something caught his eye. He pulled a face at whatever he was looking at, and you followed his annoyed gaze to the two foxes you met earlier, playing next to one of the bean bag chairs next to the door, near the window wall of the cafe.

You laughed awkwardly, "Haha, um, is there something wrong?"

He seemed to snap out of giving them the stink eye, profusely apologizing to you as he provided an explanation, "No, no, it's fine, it's just that those two foxes are some of the forest animals that walk around the lodge, except they're the only ones that are more annoying than cute. Some cats and birds and such come by and usually will just sit next to the register, you know, like nice and normal animals, but these foxes seem hellbent on walking around and biting at people's ankles and fighting and making huge messes that they can't clean up because they're damn foxes."

You laughed again, though this time it was genuine. "You seem to have very strong feelings about their mischief," you joked, watching as he relaxed.

"Yeah, but at the end of the day, they're still just foxes, and we make sure all the animals of the forest are safe and sound."

And if the foxes decided to cause more trouble than usual, that was their business, their decision, and not in any way related to the slight dislike of the barista, which was in turn totally not because you got along well with him.

After paying, you made your way to a table in the corner of the windows where the glass met the wall, looking absentmindedly at the visitors and workers walking past, occasionally with a rabbit or bird or other critter.

"I have your hot chocolate and sandwich, and your bread will be in just a moment. Unfortunately, I also brought these two," the barista you were talking to said as he set your food and drink on the table, before glancing at the floor. Just as you were about to lean over and see, two foxes jumped up on the seat across from you, settling themselves on the table, curled up like cats.

You waved him off with a grin, "Oh it's fine, I have a feeling they'll behave."

You took a sip out of your hot chocolate, savoring the warmth it gave you after being in the outside chill. You picked up your sandwich and took a bite, before speaking, "Are you done fighting?"

Both foxes stared at you, and if they were people, you were sure their mouths would be hanging open, dumbfounded and mildly offended as you nonchalantly took another bite, not waiting for them to respond or react.

You reached a hand out while they were frozen and pet the head of the fox nearest to you. It lowered its head slightly, shyly accepting your affection.

"Aww, you're so cute. What's your name?"

Of course, it couldn't speak, but it batted your hand with its left paw. "So cute," you crooned, "Come here?"

Just like before, when the fox was about to walk towards you, the other one jumped at you, and you hurried to wrap your arms around it. You stared at it in your arms, tummy up like a baby.

You rubbed its stomach. "What about you? What's your name?"

He happily raised his right paw, and you held it gently before putting him back on the table, which was good, because the left paw fox was a second away from pouncing on it again. The fox you set down scrambled onto the tabletop, and watched with what you would call betrayed eyes as you carried the other fox into your lap, petting its head lightly.

"It's not your turn," you quipped, focusing your attention on the fox in your lap. "You're so cute, so cute, please be my baby~."

The fox you dumped on the table yipped indignantly at you, and you decided to mess with him. "Oh, you're still here? Well, I guess you're okay…" you trailed off, struggling to keep a poker face as he looked at you with puppy eyes, while the other fox barked out high pitched laughs, which made him get up and get ready to jump.

You pet him between his ears. "I'm just joking. Jeez, you're always at each other's necks," you complained, sitting back and continuing to eat your sandwich.

As if to prove you wrong, the fox in your lap jumped on the table and curled up with the other fox, both of them leaning against each other like close brothers. Coincidentally, the waiter walked by with your pumpkin bread, watching in amazement.

"How did you do that?" he asked, and you just shrugged in response, your attention mostly on your sandwich.

When you finished it, you took another sip of your drink before you tore off two pieces of your bread. You offered it to them as a reward, for finally behaving themselves. They yipped happily in response, content with spending the rest of your time together eating in comfortable silence.

You pulled yourself out of bed, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. Embarrassingly, jet lag made you sleep in on Tuesday, your first official day at the lodge, and by the time you woke up, you had nothing to do but eat and jot down some story ideas, none of which stuck to you.

So you made sure to wake up nice and early the next day, dead set on going on at least one trail. You showered and changed into a new pair of jeans and a knit grey sweater. You stood for a moment, debating if you should wear a jacket or Tooru's hoodie over it, but decided against it and deemed the sweater good enough.

Thankfully, it was one of the warmer, sunnier days. You looked down at your map, making your way towards the open lodge outlet, taking note of the small clusters of people milling about, a familiar sight, albeit on a smaller, calmer scale. You looked up at the wooden signs pointing towards various shops, restaurants, and forest attractions. You finally found the one you were looking for, pointing to your right with the word "birdwatch" carved across. When you followed its directions, you came to a small gift shop at the start of a wide, dirt path, imprints of boots and footsteps all over the light brown ground. Walking inside, a small wind chime announced your arrival, twinkling like bird chirps, and the person behind the counter looked up.

"Oh, it's you!" she exclaimed, recognizing your face.

"Hello again! I thought you worked at the reception desk?"

"I'm covering for someone's shift right now, they had finals to take. Are you here for a birdwatch?"

"Spot on," you answered, bringing a hand up to rub the back of your head with a meek smile. Kozume winked at you, before taking out two binoculars from under the desk.

"Well then, let's go!"

"You know, some of these birds remind me of the ones that live near my apartment building," you mentioned, picturing the large cherry blossom tree that stretched its branches past your window. "The birds here are so much more interesting though," you lamented. "The city just has crows and small birds, but here there's robins and warblers and so many more species, with great diversity. It's like the bird version of the people back home."

"I can imagine not many birds want to live near so many humans, but these have all of the forest to themselves. Look, the bird over there, with the blue mohawk, is called an Asian Paradise Flycatcher, and…" she trailed off, continuing your tour of one of the forest trails, before whipping an arm in front of you, exclaiming, "Watch your step!"

You froze with your foot still in the air, watching as the fox you narrowly missed stepping on darted in front of you.

"I'm sorry, he's not really supposed to be here, he has his own trail," Kozume frantically apologized while glaring at the fox, before sighing in relief when you responded with a small laugh.

"It's fine, I've met him before," you reassured while looking around, searching for a certain somebody. "And I learned that he never walks alone…"

To prove your point, the other fox you were well acquainted with joined his brother, running around in front of you.

"Well, the next part of our trail is basically a circle back, so hopefully they run off to where they belong, I don't want you to get in trouble for messing with the animals because of them," Kozume said as you made a left, walking back to the start of the trail.

When you opened the door to the gift shop, two furry animals zipped past your feet, and you already knew who they were before you even saw them.

"Kozume, is it normal for these guys to always hang around here?" you asked, picking up both foxes in your arms, resting them comfortably in your arms.

Kozume turned around to look at you, her hands still in midair, putting away your binoculars. "Actually, no, they do come by once or twice but they never hang around, and we just assumed they don't like people very much since they really only hang out with each other. They've never let anyone pet them…" she stopped mid-sentence as she watched you pet their heads and stomachs with no resistance from the two.

You glanced up. "Huh? Oh, I don't really have a lot of experience with animals, but they're just so cute," you said, before snapping your head up, eyes wide in realization. "Hey, do you have some ribbon or something?"

"Yes! We use them to identify specific birds we keep tabs on, especially ones we just recently nursed back to health," she explained, pulling out a box of ribbons, offering it to you. You set the foxes on the counter, watching Kozume hesitantly reach a hand out to them from the corner of your eye. They protested, but allowed her to pet them when you eyed them. Looking into the box, you fished out two ribbons, one a golden yellow, and the other a nice warm grey.

"May I?" you asked, directing the question to Kozume. The foxes, however, decided you were talking to them and excitedly sat in front of you, pulling each ribbon towards them with their paw.

"I think they said yes," Kozume chuckled, and you took that as your permission to put ribbons on their, er, the forest's foxes. You cooed at them, asking which one would go first. The fox with the yellow ribbon in his mouth nudged your hand with his face, making you smile.

"Which are you, left or right?"

The fox raised its right paw and rubbed his face as your answer, and you kept that in mind while you tied the ribbon around his neck, finishing it off with a nice bow. You did the same to the other fox, who voluntarily shook your hand with his left paw, just in case you forgot. By the time you were done, both foxes were playing on the counter, ribboned bows securely on their necks.

"What if you started working here? The way you can interact with the animals so easily is honestly amazing," Kozume asked, springing the question on you out of the blue.

You jumped, before you began rubbing the back of your head sheepishly, "Ah, I would love to, honestly, but I work as an author, and it's best if I stay relatively close to my publishing company."

Kozume smiled understandingly, "Yeah, I figured. Well, just know that me and the foxes will be missing you hundreds of miles away." Then she brightened, pulling out her phone, "Put your number in, so we can stay in touch, and so I can keep an eye on my son," she winked cheekily as you accepted her offer.

While the two of you were occupied, focused on your conversation, the two foxes stopped playing, standing abruptly and whipping their faces towards you.

Loud crying made you turn away from Kozume and look for the source of the high-pitched whining, popping the question "who's making those crying puppy sounds?" into the air.

Your eyes landed on the foxes, both of which were crying and walking towards you, tugging at your sleeve and rubbing their heads against your arms. Your heart melted, and you turned to Kozume, pity written across your face.

"When I said they would miss you, I didn't think it would be this much…"

"No, you can't come in here! I'll be kicked out if I let you guys in!"

The foxes, still with the ribbons tied perfectly and safely around their necks, were looping around your legs, blocking your entrance to the cabin you've rented. They both looked up at you and cried, their whines catching the attention of some workers and visitors nearby.

"Okay, fine! If I get in trouble, it's your fault," you relented, turning the knob and carefully opening the door, watching as they slipped in, leaving you to shut the smooth oak door quietly behind you as you flipped on the light switch.

The second you let electric light flood the cabin, you realized the foxes were nowhere to be seen. Only mildly worried, since you knew they were at least somewhere inside, you shrugged it off and walked to the dresser, pulling out Tooru's hoodie and some sweatpants, before making your way to the bathroom.

Out of nowhere, a fox came zooming at your feet, eager to come inside with you. This time, you were firm as you said, "I'm going to shower, so you can back off and play around while I'm in the bathroom, alone, with no perverts!"

The grey fox started laughing at the peeping fox, which you realized was the yellow ribboned one. As expected, he launched at his brother, and you took the distraction as an opportunity to step inside the bathroom and shut the door behind you, locking it just to make sure.

Freshly showered, with your comfortable, warm clothes on, you shuffled out of the bathroom, already expecting the foxes right there, having to step over them to make your way to the bed. They jumped up with you, but once the grey fox came close enough to sniff your hoodie, it barked indignantly, biting at the hoodie.

"Hey! This isn't mine, it's Tooru's, so I can't let you destroy it!" you chided, pulling your sleeve away. Apparently you had said the wrong thing, because both foxes started pulling your sleeves together, before you yanked your arms out of their grips.

"Tooru doesn't even smell bad, he smells nice," you said, pulling the hoodie up to smell the familiar scent, the aromas of chocolates and sweets in fresh air, reminding you of the skies back at the city: the smells of bakeries and cafes wafting through the air and birds chirping above you every time you walked down a street. Still, when the foxes continued growling, you reluctantly tugged the sweater off and stayed in just a white t-shirt, an old, stretched out shirt with the print on the front long since faded and gone.

When you plopped back on the bed, the foxes crowded towards you, close enough that if you didn't know better, you'd think that they were trying to get you to forget about Tooru and focus on them. Subconsciously taking a breath, you caught the smell of a forest clearing or meadow, a smell of fresh grass and fresh air and petrichor, which you would expect from foxes that were supposed to stay and play in the forest, but you also noticed slight variations in the scent, obviously coming from either fox.

Yellow ribbon had a scent like honey, with a strong undertone of a woodsy musk, which made you picture drinking tea sweetened with the golden syrup right outside your cabin.

Grey ribbon had a strong campfire scent, the smell of crackling wood and fire and melting chocolate. A scene under a clear night sky surrounding a fire with the aroma of cinnamon in the air came to mind, and you let yourself get lost in thought, your senses being occupied with new scents, sights, and imagery.

If the foxes were human, their faces would surely have the widest, shit-eating grins, smug and satisfied at having you distracted from the minor annoyance from earlier and focused on them, just as they wanted.

You snapped out of it. "You little—, you just want me to give you attention and affection and baby you," you accused, pushing them away from your face. They didn't protest or bark at you, and you figured it was because they knew they were guilty as charged. "Jeez, you're acting like Tooru is a threat or something…"

You heard two big sighs, and blinked in surprise at the foxes as they settled onto the plush white covers. Maybe it was because they were so human-like and made you honestly contemplate whether they could understand you or not, or maybe it was because the only animal you've heard sigh is your mom's dog back at your family home, but whatever it was, it made you think, for a split second, that the foxes were humans turned animals, kind of like the frog prince. But that was stupid, so you shook your head, got up and turned off the lights, opening the curtains but keeping the blinds closed, and settled back into bed as slats of moonlight came from the spaces between the blinds.

The foxes climbed into your arms, and you held them close to you as you fell asleep, telling yourself it was only because you had crossed the line earlier, even though deep down you knew that wasn't the real reason.

You pulled the two fluffy sources of heat closer to you, unwilling to open your eyes and start the day. It's only when the heaters started licking your face that you panicked and freaked out.

High pitched yips made the events of yesterday evening rush back to you, and you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes tiredly, surprised that you had a good night's sleep with two, technically, wild animals.

You scooped the drowsy foxes into your arms before making your way to the big wooden door and pushing it open, setting the foxes on the ground.

"You weren't even supposed to be in there, you know," you said as the foxes tried to get back in, pawing at the door. You shivered, the chill in the air numbing your exposed skin and wrapping around your bare arms, and you hurriedly shooed them away before retreating back inside the warmth of the cabin.

Safely bundled in a sweater from your university under a hoodie, one of your own this time, you joined a group going for the fox trail, wondering if you'd see yours.

Pointedly ignoring how you immediately thought of them as "your" foxes, you listened to the tour guide, an employee you hadn't met yet, talk about how the foxes don't always show on the trail.

"That's a shame, let's just hope for the best," other visitors and families whispered around you, with some of them saying they didn't see that many foxes yesterday, only a few odd ones out here and there. Knowing where they actually were the day before, you stifled a laugh, even as your ears turned red with guilt and embarrassment, before following at the back of the group as they started the trail.

Luckily, you saw a few grey and brown foxes, who seemed like actual normal foxes and not borderline sentient, but around the middle of the trail it was basically deserted.

"Let me try to call them," the guide offered, bringing his hands up to cup his mouth and whistle loudly.

Silence answered, with no signs of anything coming to visit.

The tour guide encouraged the group to call out and whistle, and various whistles and voices rose from the group.

Not wanting to draw attention to yourself, you crouched low, at eye-level with the bushes, and softly called out for two specific foxes, your hello muffled by the rest of the crowd.

You gave up, feeling stupid and unconvinced that your almost-whisper would carry over the noise of the crowd, and sat on the ground, legs folded under you, deciding to wait until the group either got tired or another fox actually showed up for them. Just then, the bushes in front of you started to rustle, and your lovely grey ribboned fox jumped out, immediately crawling into your lap to nuzzle your face.

The people closest to you turned at the noise and noticed you cuddling with him on the ground, and word started spreading throughout the group that someone had successfully lured out a fox.

"Look! There's one running this way!" the ones at the front of the group called, and you looked just in time to see your other fox running towards you, straight past the tour guide and the rest of the group. You smiled fondly at them, before lowering your face to let both of them rub their cheeks against yours.

"Ma'am, could you please not touch the animals?" the tour guide told you timidly, obviously not wanting to reprimand you for being able to actually call out foxes on the designated fox trail, but you understood it was mostly so others didn't start getting any ideas, thinking they had permission.

You nodded sheepishly, lightly putting them on the floor before standing up, wiping the dust off your knees. However, the whole group watched as the foxes looped around your feet, even going so far as to jump up and paw at your thighs.

"Do you work here? You're so good with animals!" a mom in the crowd asked, and you looked at the actual worker, unsure of what to say. He stared back at you with just as much confusion, before shrugging, leaving you to make up a convincing story on the spot.

"Actually, these foxes used to live near me, but I live in a city, so I brought them here so they'd be safer than on the streets," you fibbed, though you gave yourself a pat on the back for how reliable the story was. If anyone really did have to ask, yes, you did live in a city, and yes, you would one hundred percent bring foxes and other animals to a forest or wildlife lodge. Did that really happen? No, but could it? The answer was yes, and you sighed in relief when the mom turned, accepting your answer. You giggled when the tour guide released a breath he didn't even know he was holding, and he continued the trail, sending a discreet wink your way.

You didn't notice the way your foxes growled at that, and if someone had asked you why you had two foxes right at your heels, walking next to you protectively like a pair of guard dogs, you'd blink in confusion, oblivious to the reality of their words.

Before you knew it, it was Saturday, souvenir shopping day. You slung on your bookbag, ready to put some weight in it.

At the lodge's shopping centre, you saw gift shops, clothing shops, and random trinket shops alike. In the gift shop, you found crystal figurines of animals in and around the lodge, and a cute little bird the color of a clear sky caught your eye. For some reason, it reminded you of Tooru, and you couldn't stop yourself from buying it and watching as the cashier wrapped it in paper before setting it in a white velvet box, cushioned and safe. Huh, crystal bird, blue, bluebird. You may have found another nickname for Ruru. You absentmindedly slipped it into your bag, happy to have found what you were looking for so fast and a new nickname.

But stores weren't anything if not eye-catching, and the shelf of plush animals distracted you. The fox plushies, specifically, were so similar to actual foxes that they'd be perfect replacement cuddle buddies for when you went back home to your big city.

But then you felt incredibly embarrassed and childish for that, so you shook your head as you walked out of the shop, ignoring the way that thought stuck in your head like a moth to a lamp.

Still, you found yourself walking through store after store after store. Once you finally snapped out of it, you had just stepped out of the birdwatching souvenir store, all too aware of the set of postcards themed after the various birds you could spot on the trail. You told yourself that the blue mohawk bird on the front was a great reminder of both the trail and Kozume, and made a mental note to get her to write something before you left, lessening your guilt over having bought something almost useless.

By the time you came back to the cabin, your wallet felt significantly lighter while your bookbag was very obviously heavier. You had stuffed the velvet box, postcard deck, two maroon sweaters with "Inari Lodge" printed across the front with the forest's logo, and a large and heavy book about spirits and legendary deities that guard and dwell in the forest. According to the summary on the back, the book was basically a collection of the myths and legends surrounding the forest, including one about people that could transform from animal to person and back again. The cover of the book immediately made you think "grimoire", and you were set on buying it, if not for the stories, then for the aesthetic.

You wondered briefly if it was real as you unclasped the leather string binding the book shut and flipped through yellowed pages with torn edges, looking at all the pictures that looked believable hand drawn and writing in a language you could only understand when you squinted your eyes.

You had wrapped everything in the two sweaters, and then in the white scarf, making sure they were safe and at no risk of being crushed or damaged, especially the crystalline figure.

"Are ya sure she isn't coming back?"

"Yes, 'Tsumu, last I checked she was dropping off her keys to Kozume."

"But she'll be back soon?"

"Yeah no shit, genius, that's why you either get in here with me or stay behind."

"Hey, I'm just makin' sure you're prepared for this y'know, in case you start crying for momma or somethin'."

"Shut yer face and die."

"What do we do now?"

"I don't wanna pay for a ticket, 'Samu."

"Me neither, but we can't hitch a ride in her carry-on anymore, it's going through TSA."

They both leaned against the wall, realizing that they were both stupid and their plan was stupid squared.

Atsumu looked up, the ribbon around his neck moving with him, and he watched you walk into the bathroom, leaving your luggage outside the door. He nudged Osamu, pointing at the bathroom door.

"Nice," he praised.

And if people saw two foxes crawling into a bookbag? It's the airport at three in the alternate airport timeline, who cares.

"My bag is so heavy," you complained, flopping into your assigned seat. It was another window seat, and the view of the land underneath becoming smaller and smaller until it was covered by a sea of clouds made you feel a little better. Still, how did your bag get that heavy? When it was empty, it was literally lightweight, and when you were still shopping, it wasn't that hard to carry it as you went from store to store. You groaned, rolling your shoulder from the pain of carrying the boulder of a bag.

"That's what I get for buying so much," you berated yourself, opening the flap and looking inside. Surprisingly, two fluffy foxes were curled up in there, resting comfortably on your white scarf. For a moment, you thought your foxes had hitched a ride and were coming home with you, but you'd obviously notice that, right? And besides, you did see the stuffed animals in the gift shop.

"I can't believe I actually bought the stuffed foxes just because I'll miss the real ones," you huffed, blushing slightly, as if the foxes were there and could hear you. But the foxes were not there, you had left them at the lodge, so you settled for stroking the faux fur of the stuffed foxes, the silky smooth strands so lifelike that if you didn't know better, you'd think it was real.

"Finally," you gasped, face planting into the soft fluffy white of your blanket. You tugged off Tooru's sweater and folded it neatly, walking out and placing it on your counter, ready to return. You rummaged through your bag, that you had dropped to the floor as soon as you opened the door to your room, and tugged out the scarf from underneath your very suspiciously heavy fox plushies.

You unwrapped the bundle, pulling all your souvenirs out before bunching up the scarf and throwing it into your laundry basket. You set the book and postcard deck on your bookshelf, next to other various books and collectibles you've found over the years, and grabbed the velvet box, feeling its smooth texture against the palm of your hand. You set it on top of the teal hoodie, before changing out of your jeans and shirt into shorts and an oversized tee, boyfriend style.

Ugh, a boyfriend. You've been single for way too long.

"Please let me wake up to a miracle," you prayed, closing your eyes and pulling a serene face, before immediately flopping over and falling asleep.

Of course, you do not expect to wake up cuddled up to a warm chest while listening to someone messing around in your bathroom, the shutting of cupboards and a phone call drifting from the white door.

You laid there, relishing the comfort that came from being flush against someone's side, tucked under their arm.

That's when it hit you that strangers were in your house.

You bolted up, using your hand to choke back the scream bubbling from your throat, not wanting to let either person know you were awake.

You looked down, realizing that you had just left the side of a very handsome and very shirtless man, his eyes slowly opening when he felt the absence of your warmth, showing you his beautiful light brown eyes, getting lost in the gold specs like stars.

You ripped your gaze away from him and moved to swing your legs over the edge of the bed. Unfortunately for you, the mystery man reached up and tugged you back down to him, holding a finger up to his very pink and very kissable and very attract— , wait, no. He held his finger against his lips, shushing you.

"Wait, he's coming out. Stay beside me."

Just as you opened your mouth to retaliate, he had already thrown your white covers over the both of you and looped an arm around you, his hand resting at your waist.

The door to the bathroom opened, and yet another stranger walked out, though it was only him, making the total number of intruders two. He had the same eyes and lips, which were the definition of picture perfect, and he was also lacking in the shirt department. His brows furrowed, and you could already feel the argument starting.

"What the hell do ya think yer doin'?!"

"She prefers me."

"No she doesn't!"

"It's true, right doll?"

Both pairs of identical eyes stared at you, and you started panicking under the pressure.

"I don't even know you! This is literally stranger danger!" you yelled, jumping out of the warmth of both the blanket and the guy in your bed, dodging as his hand reached out to pull you back in.

You pressed your back against the wall, staying as far away from them as possible. You then realized what you were wearing, and tugged your shirt down even further, mentally slapping yourself for wearing shorts that left almost nothing to imagination with a shirt that reached your thighs, which would put you at a disadvantage if you had to fight or flight.

The stranger finally got out of your bed and walked next to the other, but it was only once they were next to each other that you realized they were twins, identical twins. Both had dyed hair, but one was blond while the other had grey hair. Their bangs were parted to opposite sides, so they kind of mirrored each other, which made you shiver.

"Don't ya remember us?"

"Yeah, you liked me better."

As they started bickering, as almost all siblings do, you noticed the two sweaters you bought sitting on the edge of the bed. Snatching them and balling them up in either fist, you threw them at them.

"At least wear these!"

"Those sweaters would eat me alive, but they fit you so well," you sighed, sitting on your legs on your bed, the two still standing in front of you.

As they pulled the cloth over their head, you noticed the ribbons tied around their neck as they popped free from the neckline. You felt your heart sink to your stomach when you realized they were grey and yellow ribbons.

"'s not like we've never slept with you before," yellow ribbon said.

"You even asked me to be your baby," grey ribbon added, catching his twin's elbow in his hand.

"I haven't even been in the city for the past week! I was at the lodge forest thing."

"So were we."

"Yeah, we came from there."

"Then how did you end up here?!"

"We came with ya," yellow ribbon said matter-of-factly while the other shrugged in agreement.

Your breath got caught in your throat as you flipped the flap of your bookbag over, looking at the empty space in dismay.

"Where are my foxes?"

"That's us!" they chorused, identical smirks of pride on their faces, as if being yours was something to show off or brag about.

"They were plushies! People cannot be plushies!"

"No, they were real foxes, and we're real foxes, 'cause they were us."

"Where the hell would I get real foxes?!"

They saw the moment you pieced two and two together, your face turning from one of anxious anger to acceptance as you realized what they were trying to say.

The ribbons. Their colors. The plushies that felt a little too real. That one night in your cabin. The day you fed them in that one cafe.

They were your foxes.

"Yup," grey ribbon nodded his head, and you shut your mouth, not wanting to accidentally say what you were thinking again.

"Why did you come here? You belong in the forest!"

"No, we're your foxes," they said in unison.

"No you aren't," you groaned, covering your face with both your hands.

The two of them had attached themselves to your side, and when you said that, they seemed to get even more annoyed, and so they snuggled even closer to you, an arm slung around your shoulders and around your waist.

"What are your names?" you finally relented, relaxing in their grip.

"Miya Osamu," the one with the grey ribbon said, pulling you closer from the waist.

"Miya Atsumu, the better twin," the one with the yellow ribbon retorted, tugging you back with the arm around your shoulder.

"Stop pushing me around! We barely know each other!"

"Can you stop with that already?" Osamu said, though he had no actual anger or malice behind his words.

"Or do we have to remind you who you belong to?" Atsumu said suggestively, and you braced yourself for whatever mischief he had planned.

In one moment, you were sitting normally in the middle of your bed. In the next, you were back against your headboard, your head on your pillows. And you became a pillow, as Osamu tucked his face in your neck and Atsumu rested his head on your chest.

"We're taking a nap together again whether you like it or not," Osamu said decisively, and you could tell that was that, no arguing.

"At least let me pull those off, it's embarrassing," you complained, your hand drifting up to Atsumu's ribbons.

"No," he said, catching your hand warningly. Something in his voice made you obey immediately. "That's mine."

"Well this is mine too!" you replied heatedly, bringing a hand up and cradling Osamu's head against you. But instead of doing anything or acting out like any normal person would, Osamu started purring, a satisfied grin on his face while you had a look of dismay, your cheeks reddening.

Atsumu glared at him, moving your hand so your arm was wrapped around him, pulling him closer as well. You got the hint and raised your other hand to run your fingers through his hair, leaving you to deal with two purring fox-shifting idiots.

"Fine, you're both mine, I guess," you gave up, fighting back a blush and pretending that statement didn't warm your heart as much as it did.

"And your ours," they chorused happily, and you didn't even try to hide the pink spreading across your cheeks when they rubbed their faces against yours.

"Okay," you said quietly, accepting the fact that them being yours and you being theirs made you feel something happy and content in your chest, something that was dangerously close to love. If you were like them, you were one hundred percent sure you'd start purring, too.

I mean, you did say you wanted a boyfriend, and the universe was kind enough to give you more than what you bargained for.

The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with yellow and red while the blues and purples of night crept closer. The clouds were fluffy and lined with silver, their normal white reflecting pink hues.

The last rays of sunlight filtered through a sheer peach curtain, coating everything in gold lighting.

Three people were sleeping soundly on a bed, the white blanket thrown over their tangled legs, breaths even and in sync. Dyed grey hair peeked out from under a chin, and blond hair tickled a collarbone. Natural hair was sprawled out on the white stuffed pillows.

Osamu opened an eye, before raising his head and pressing a soft kiss to the sleeping beauty's lips.

And if he raised a finger to his lips? Well, I can't say what happened next, because my lips are sealed.

oh my GOD did this take forever between writing this and school and the fanart of this (which i’ll post later) i took way longer than i normally would

that being said, i hope you still like it <3

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyū!!#haikyū #miya osamu #miya atsumu #miya twins #haikyuu miya atsumu #haikyuu miya osamu #haikyuu miya twins #snow white au #miya atsumu x reader #miya osamu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fanfic #i can't believe i made an au of my own au #fanfic of my own fanfic #fanfic³

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stillchaoticlogic · 5 years ago

Text

Descent: Chapter 1

Leon only thought he was the most powerful trainer in Galar...

He never battled you though.

Chapter 1: Down the Rabbit Hole

You can hardly believe your eyes the first time you see him at the arena. Surely this is some kind of mistake. The Unbeatable… well formerly unbeatable… now dethroned Champion Leon.

The first few times he came he just watched and you just watched him. Your curiosity getting the better of you, besides if rumor has it, he’s looking for you.

Tonight as he steps into the ring there is a tension in the stagnant air. The old warehouse that is playing arena this month rife with the smell of sulfur and dust. The abandoned warehouse is old and in disrepair, but not old enough to become home to Pokemon or not be able to handle the battles. After all, these weren’t League battles, these were something else entirely. A high chain link fence goes up almost to the rafters of the old building. Spotlights shine down with a yellow light and makeshift stands were brought in. The betting pool is where the real fun is though. Everyone is betting against him, this isn’t his usual crowd.

These are rejects of the League, the dropouts and unsponsored. They hold no love for the champion of a sport that rejected them. However, they still love the thrill of battle, that’s what draws them here.

Leon only thought he was the strongest trainer in all of Galar.

He has never battled here.

He has never battled you.

“What does our former Champion want?” taunts the Five of Clubs.

He’s new meat, just beginning to make his way up the battle ranks. He’s progressed fast and he shows promise. That cocky attitude of his is to be desired though.

“I want to battle the strongest trainer here.”

“The Queen doesn’t take challengers that haven’t proven themselves worthy.”

“I’m the Champion!”

“Former Champion.”

Leon grits his teeth and lowers his head to hide his face under his hat.

“Still! Isn’t that proof enough? I was the Unbeatable-”

“We know! We know! The Unbeatable Champion!” interjects the Knight of Hearts. Her shrill voice cutting through the air like a siren.

“To answer your question, no it’s not enough. This isn’t your precious League. That would be like one of us walking out onto your pitch and demanding a battle from you. You haven’t earned the right to battle The Queen yet.”

“What do I have to do to battle her?”

“Move up the ranks, this isn’t playtime and you aren’t the king anymore.”

There is a chorus of cackles that go up from the crowd and Leon accepts the challenge with false confidence. He’s three battles in when he falls.

You watch emotionlessly as the Three of Diamonds’ Machoke slams his Charizard to the ground and Leon panics when he doesn’t get up.

“Charizard! Buddy?!” He rushes towards him and cradles the fire lizard’s massive head in his hands. You’ve never seen such a sight in your life.

“Deal with your teammate Diamond,” you mutter as you glance over to the young woman to your left.

“What?” she asks with faux innocence, “He knew what he was getting into!”

“You know they went harder on him than was appropriate. If something happened to his Charizard I’m going to have to deal with it. Don’t make me do that.”

“You got it Majesty!” She says in a mocking tone.

You roll your eyes at her as you leave your place on the upper level. Heading down the stairs you can still hear Leon’s panic over his friend. The crowd parts for you, but he doesn’t even notice your presence until you are right next to him.

“He’s going to be okay. Let’s get you two out of here.”

He whipped his head around to face you with fire in his eyes, “Don’t touch him.”

His voice is cold and hard. You put your hands up in a surrender position and stand up before backing away.

“You need to get him to a center. The angle that he hit the ground could have seriously harmed him and the faster you get him treatment the better.”

“You don’t think I know that?! I know how to take care of my team!”

“Then perhaps you should stop panicking and get moving.”

You feel his glare more than you see it as he returns his partner and rushes from the arena. You can hear the jeering crowd as he rushes out the door.

“It’s weird not seeing him in that stupid cape…” One of the cards says.”

You pay him no mind as you return to your place to watch the rest of the battles.

A week goes by before you see him again. He’s standing in the crowd watching the battles take place before he challenges one of the contenders.

“Look, we humored you the first time, but this is serious shit okay? I got rent to pay and I can’t do it if you don’t let me do my thing.”

“What you don’t think you can win against me?” Leon challenges.

“Listen Ace, you need a team to endorse you. One of the Kings or Queens have to let you on their team, once that happens you battle up the ranks. Once you’re a rank that is of any kind of importance then you can challenge royalty. Until then…. you’re a Joker. Jokers gotta prove themselves worthy of challenging those on a team by an elimination tournament. Only the top four competitors get the chance to be chosen for a team and that’s only if one of the royals likes you enough to pick you. No guarantees.”

“What makes this any different than the sponsors then? You’re still excluding people.”

“Anybody can join the Tournament of Fools, only the strongest get chosen for a team. The Kings and Queens have standards and you have to meet them. That’s the rules.”

Leon has a fire in his eyes you’ve never seen before, so you aren’t surprised when he asks.

“When’s the next Tournament of Fools?”

“Two weeks.”

“I’ll be there.”

With a roll of your eyes, you watch as the former champion leaves the arena. There is only one person you know that may have the answer to what’s going on.

Spikemuth feels like home as you walk through the neon-lit streets. When you get to the arena and you see Piers up on stage you lean back against the wall to watch the set. It’s a few songs before he notices you, but when he does he puts a halt to the practice.

“What have I done to warrant a visit from her Majesty?” he asks in an almost mocking tone. You know better though, you can hear the underlying nerves from a life he’s left behind.

“Absolutely nothing, I figured you may be able to help me through… It seems a former champion intends to join the Tournament of Fools in a couple of weeks.”

“Leon? In the Underground?”

“Yes, and I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“They’ll eat him alive…”

“They already have and he’s coming back for more.”

Piers looks away from you, “I’ll go talk to him…”

“That’s a good idea.”

“If I can’t convince him though…”

“You know there is nothing that I can do Piers.”

“So you won’t even try?”

“I can’t just scoop the former champion up in order to protect him… You of all people should know this. I got you out Piers, now I need you to keep him from coming back.”

You don’t see Leon over the next two weeks, and you believe that Piers got through to him. It’s not until the night of the tournament that he returns. You notice among the crowd Piers and Raihan obviously trying to keep their friend from making a big mistake, but he doesn’t seem to be listening.

The crowd is rife with anticipation and as Leon walks up to the sign-in sheet you can hear the whispers go up among them. They can’t wait to watch him fail.

“You have all heard of the Four Royals of the Underground, but now it’s time to see them with your own eyes! We have the King of Hearts, and his specialty is Fairy Types! Don’t let their innocence fool you! You will fall in love just for him to break your heart!” A tall man with dark hair swept back neatly stands up. He’s wearing a black suit with a red shirt underneath. The mask covering his eyes is white, he winks flirtatiously at the audience.

“Next, we have the Queen of Diamonds! Her exterior isn’t the only thing icy about her! Her team will freeze you in place and shatter your chances of victory.” Diamond stands up with her icy blonde hair down in loose curls. Her white dress is long and form-fitting shimmering in the light. The smirk on her face is haughty as she regards the crowd.

“We can’t forget our King of Clubs! This master of street brawls will put any and all dojos to shame! One right hook is all it takes for his killer team to take the win!” Clubs stands up and cracks his knuckles while he regards the audience with a sneer. He’s wearing a pair of ripped jeans with a black shirt and black leather jacket.

“And finally, last but certainly not least, the Queen of Spades! She may let you pick your poison, but that doesn’t mean you can take it!” You stand up in your black pants, combat boots and long black coat cascading down behind you. You regard the crowd cooly as you give a smirk and a wave.

“Alright contestants! It’s not only your job to win, but you have to impress royalty as well! Better bring your A-game. Only four of you have a chance at getting chosen tonight. Let’s go!”

The battles begin with four on four battle royals. You aren’t surprised when among the amateurs Leon shines. He wasn’t the Unbeatable Champion for the last few years for nothing, and despite his previous losses, he isn’t weak.

“Leon’s doing pretty good… I may just recruit him so I can break him a little bit…” Clubs chuckles as he glances over at Diamond. She snickers before she turns back to the battle. There is no love for Leon here. He represents everything that most of the trainers in the Underground hate. He succeeded where they couldn’t and now he’s infringing upon their territory.

When the battles are over Leon stands victorious over all of the competitors. You had hoped he would be ignored regardless of how good he is and be turned away, but you know that’s not the case. You know what you have to do even if you hate it.

“Our reigning champion will be choosing for her team first. Your Majesty.”

You watch as Leon’s eyes zero in on you as you stand up and regard each of the trainers. You know you’re who he has been searching for.

“Leon,” you announce in an almost bored tone.

The crowd is silent as Leon makes his way to your team. You can feel the eyes of your rivals and they are rife with hostility.

“Someone is going soft…” mutters Diamond.

“I literally destroyed you last week… you sure?” you ask as you turn towards her with an arrogant smirk.

She huffs and looks away.

You regard Leon as he walks by you to sit in the only vacant seat on your team.

“You know Spades… If you didn’t already have a target on your back, you do now. Sticking your neck out for the former champion… bleeding heart ain’t ya?” Clubs drawls from his seat.

“If I couldn’t handle a target on my back I wouldn’t be the High Queen, would I? Do your worst Clubs… it still won’t be good enough.” you murmur almost innocently.

“Now… now… this is supposed to be a fun event! You’re all so serious!” Hearts interjects with a pointed look at Clubs.

He just sneers at the two of you before he turns to evaluate the rest of the candidates. The other royalty chooses their teammates quickly and the teams welcome their new Aces to their teams. Once the formalities are over everybody heads out to go to a party in the warehouse. Before Leon can leave you whip your head around to face him, “You’re coming with me… we need to talk.”

You lead him into your makeshift office before you round on him, “I hope you know precisely what you’ve gotten yourself and me into.”

“Look! I just want a chance to prove-”

“What? That you’re the best? The most powerful? News flash. You’ve never been the best or the most powerful, there is always someone better and more powerful. Victory is fleeting and now you’re a target. They want to destroy you.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle!” he says clearly offended.

“Like you handled it the other night?” he looks away from you.

“Look… I feel for you,” you continue, “but you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“It’s just a battle league!”

“It’s way more than that…”

Before you can explain Piers and Raihan burst into the room and you roll your eyes at the pair.

“(Name)! You chose him!”

You glare over at Piers, “You didn’t do your job…”

“I tried… it’s not my fault he didn’t listen…” he says with slight annoyance.

“Wait. How do you two know each other?”

“We used to battle together, we went up the ranks together.”

“Piers… you were in the Underground League?”

“Yeah… I had to make money somehow and this was the best way. When Marnie got older I got out, but it wasn’t easy. If it wasn’t for (Name) here I would still be in the League.”

“Doing what?”

“Whatever I needed to do.”

“Getting out of the League isn’t always easy. Sometimes you just have to retire otherwise, you have to be released.”

“What do they do if you aren’t released?”

“They pretty much destroy your life.”

“Destroy your life?”

“Look it’s all fun and games for the most part, but there is a market for illegal Pokémon here. That’s where the Underground comes in.”

“You steal Pokémon!?”

“No! We aren’t Team Rocket! We catch them, some of the more esteemed are breeders. No body’s abusing Pokémon here, but if you want a Pokémon that isn’t exactly supposed to be here, we have our ways. For this reason, it’s exclusive. I don’t even know how you found out about us let alone found us.”

“Some guy just told me about you all.”

“What guy?”

“I don’t know his name… maybe if I saw him I would recognize him?”

“That’s not good… It sounds like a trap…”

“Why would that be a trap?”

“Because this is an underground league with illegal side work and you’re a celebrity. What makes you think this isn’t a trap?” you in annoyance.

“I didn’t know you smuggled illegal pokemon!”

“That’s because you aren’t even supposed to know we exist!” you snap.

“Well what do we do now?” asks Leon.

“I don’t know… but you have to get stronger, they are going to be coming for you.”

He frowns at you but nods, determination in his eyes, “What do I need to do?”

“We’re going to the training ground tomorrow.”

“Where’s that?”

“Oh, you’ll see…”

Notes: I know this is something a little different, but I wanted something edgy. I’ve been playing with this idea for a little so I hope you all like it! Please Comment!

#pokemon leon #leon x reader #champion leon #champion leon x reader #pokemon #pokemon fanfiction #pokemon scenarios #pokemon imagines #pokemon sword and shield #pokemon swsh #sword and shield fanfiction #swis fanfiction

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springtimebat · 4 years ago

Text

The Radiator Man (A sequel to Beneath the Wire)

When I was little (I’ve forgotten at what age now), my mom hired a man to work in our boarding house and maintain the central heating. Our tenants were always complaining during the winter you see. He worked in the boiler room, deep down in the basement, keeping the furnace and all the pipes running. So, at first I called him the Boiler Man. Later on, we had a sort of restoration period and he started going from door to door, installing vents and radiators into older apartments. So he became the Radiator Man.

He brought a woman with him. His wife, I think. She said they’d come here from the desert.

We both helped them move in on a cold winter morning. I can still remember the conversation my mom had with me as we carried cardboard boxes up the winding staircase.

“I want you to stay in the flat with her while I sign off the moving van. I’ll carry the rest of the furniture up on my own,”

“Why?”I groaned.

“She’s very quiet and all on her own. I don’t trust her in that small apartment,”

“She’s a grown woman mom. I’m sure she’s fine,”

“You haven’t met her yet. If you had seen her you’d understand,”

“Are you sure you’re not just overreacting?”

“No I’m not. She’s strange,”

“If she’s so strange why’d you give her a room?”

“Her husband said they had nowhere else to go,”

“Do they have no family?”

“Apparently not,”

Their apartment was beside a separate stairwell that led straight down to the boiler room. Because of the building’s structure the furnace sat below the kitchen, making it toasty and warm. But not everything was pleasant. The living room was worm-eaten and shabby. The walls were rotting and my mom had tried to hide the marks with old, dusty tapestries and carpets she’d picked up from car boots. The couch was shedding bits of fluff and cotton. There was no TV, just an old radio, with its aerial always pointing to the sky. Whenever the girl tuned into a programme it was always an old man talking in Romanian, never music.

The girl was normal looking I suppose. She was about average in height and in weight. Her hair was curled and poofy, the fashion of the time. She wore a turtleneck on that first day; grey, like her cold hands, with a pair of worn jeans covered in yellow paint. She’d been painting the kitchen. She was the first woman I’d ever seen wear pants. I remember looking at her suspiciously, furrowing my brow. Her face was pale, her cheekbone impossibly high, her lips impossibly full and pink. She had a doll’s face, painted and fogged over, her eyes clouded and buggy. She looked normal, at a first glance. But there was something…wrong about her.

She shook my moms hand and offered hers to me. I didn’t take it. She didn’t say anything. She went to sit in the living room whilst my mom started moving boxes around in the peeling hallway. I stood there for a moment, stuck between the two, awkwardly shuffling my feet.

“Go keep her company for a bit,” My mom groaned, “Stop getting under my feet! This is difficult as it is,”

“Why me?”

“I’m sorry, what work are you doing right now? What job have you got to get to?”

“Alright, alright,”

The woman was pouring tea into dinky china cups, bending over the tiny coffee table next to the old carpet sofa my mom loaned her. The year before we had to exhume the carpet sofa for lice. It seemed fine now. The woman in the apartment had covered it in fluffy pillows. Damp patches collected over the years had been flattened out and sewed over.

I walked over to her and she smiled, looking up. She was smiling at me but it seemed she was actually looking at something else. Something farther away.

“My mom says I’m supposed to stay with you,”

She nodded. A strand of hair fell in her face and she blew it away. She passed me one of the teacups. Teddy bears played ring around the roses across the brim.

“Have some tea,” She sounded exotic. Her accent was heavy, quiet. Almost threatening. Years later, thinking back, I’d realise that she was Romanian. I sat with her for a while, listening to the radio. Cautiously, I tried to make small talk.

“Where’d you come from?”

“The Desert,”

“Why’d you leave?”

“There’s nothing left to live on over there,”

“Do you have any family, apart from him I mean?”

“No,”

“Do you wish you did?”

“Yes,”

“Why?”

“It gets lonely, all on your own. There’s no one to talk to,”

“I guess so. Yeah I guess it would be pretty lonely, now that I think about it,”

“I lived with a farmer a long time ago. He worked and lived with the land. I sewed and kept pigs in the pens. We had a few children running about too but they could look after themselves. That was a good time. I miss them all dearly.”

“So you had a family once?”

“No. Just a farmer and children. We were all alone. We came together because we all stood on the same grass and we had no one else. We were scared of being alone,”

“What happened to them?”

“One year, we had a bad winter. The weather was so terrible that all our crops failed. They all died from starvation. I don’t need to eat, I just like to. I was the only one who survived until the spring,”

“Is that why you left the desert?”

“Oh no. That’s why I moved to the desert,”

“Oh,”

Nothing more was said for a while, as we drank from our china tea cups. Even her tea was strange. It was ginger, I’m guessing, as I try to remember the exact taste. Except it was murky. It looked just like black coffee. The tang that hit my tongue was almost chemical. It seemed to sting the back of my throat and scrape at my teeth. It made me think of dentist appointments where your gums have to be scraped of plaque. Clinical and vile. After taking a few sips, I held back my repulsion and placed the cup back on its saucer. The radio was trying to make itself known in the background, shouting obscenities in gibberish behind us. The new girl from the desert hummed along in time with the announcer. She was calm. Too calm. Her eyes began to close. Her shoulders slumped tiredly into her cushions. The cushions she’d brought with her from what seemed to be another world. How was she so calm? She’s moved to a new place, to another country! Surely, she should be at her wits end. My mother would be rushing about the place, screaming at the top of her lungs and ordering the workmen around. But this girl, this strange girl, was lying about, as if she were already at home. Feeling kind of out of my depth and embarrassed, I cleared my throat and tried again.

“How’d you meet your husband?”

She opened her eyes and gave me an icy smile, the type of smile that darkens your face instead of brightening it. She reached out and poured herself another cup of tea.

“I met him in the desert. My father introduced us,”

“Oh, so you have a father?”

“I did. He’s gone now,” She was trying to sound sad. You could tell. Her voice was too high, too weepy. She was trying too hard. I raised my eyebrows.

“Did you like your dad?”

“No,” She bristled, “He should never have been a father. He was quite mad,”

“Mad?”

“Mad as a hatter. He wasn’t a hatter though. He was a scientist, which is even worse. The things he would do in his labs…” She shivered and frowned at me, “Young children like you shouldn’t know about the things he used to do.”

“He mustn't have been that bad. He introduced you to your husband,”

“Yes. Yes he did, didn’t he?”

“Uh huh. Surely that means he wasn’t all mad right?”

“Depends. It depends on how you look at it,” She gazed out of the window, masked by frost. She closed her eyes again, exhaling slowly, savouring the peace. I swallowed.

“You are happy aren’t you?”

“Huh?” Her eyes clicked open and she turned back towards me, her glassy eyes still lost in a dream, “What do you mean?”

“You and your husband… you and him are happy aren’t you?”

She sighed and smiled, lowering herself onto the couch yet again.

“Yes we’re very happy,”

“Really?”

“Oh so content.”Her eyes began to close again, and this time I didn’t try to wake her. After a few moments, the new girl began to snore gently on our old carpet couch, probably dreaming of faraway deserts or long dead farmers or scientist fathers.

My mother returned shortly after, having shooed the removal men off and placed all the boxes near the apartment entrance. She wasn’t going to help unpack, it wasn’t her place to do that. She sighed in annoyance when she found me sat across the new girl, who was muttering in her sleep.

“Not much of a conversationalist,” I explained.

“I knew that already,” She groaned. She squinted at our new tenant, basking in the low winter glow. My mother’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Strange girl. Strange couple,” She muttered, “I don’t know about them kiddo. They seem…”

“Odd?”

“Dangerous. Dangerously odd,” She quickly turned around to look down the adjacent corridor leading to the apartment’s front door, as if she was being watched.

“I like ‘em. At least, I like her. She had some funny things to say when I got her to talk to me. Interesting things. You know they come from the desert, mom?”

My mother blinked, “What desert? There are no deserts around here,”

“A desert in another country obviously. It’s strange. She must have lived there a long time, maybe even her whole life. But she doesn’t seem to miss it. I know if I moved to some other country I would be crying my eyes out. But she’s different. I don’t know how to describe it. It’s like she’s...relieved to be here,”

My mother looked at me for a moment, a worried expression on her face. For a moment she seemed completely lost. Then she rolled her eyes and started to walk out of the room towards the front door.

“Don’t be silly honey,” She sighed, as we walked out of the apartment.

The Radiator Man was climbing up the staircase to the boiler room as we closed the door behind us. As soon as I saw him, I stopped in my tracks. I stared at him, my mouth wide open. Whenever I encountered the Radiator Man, before and after this occasion, he would always make me stop, frozen in fear. Or awe. Or shock? Whatever it was. Like his wife he seemed normal enough at first glance. He was made of skin and bone, he had two eyes, a nose, legs and arms and hands. Perfectly normal. But there was something...off about him. He was huge, almost seven feet tall, with wide shoulders and a large belly. His legs and arms were more like pillars instead of limbs. He looked like he could knock someone out at a moment’s notice. Not only that but his skin seemed to melt in places. When you dared to look up at him, at certain angles he seemed to fade and different components of his body seemed to collide and meld together, so you thought you were looking at a writhing blob, or mass of hands and twisted noses and feet. Then there were his eyes. Oh god his eyes! His eyes were the worst of all. His eyes were yellow. Bright, neon yellow. No really. Like the neon they light street lamps with. On that moving day, he was using the light from his eye sockets to find his way up from the basement, his huge arms grasping at the railing as he hoisted himself up. It sounds so, so stupid now. Like, neon eyes? Really? Surely I remembered it wrong. It’s far more likely the guy just had a torch or a lamp and I just let my imagination get out of control. But I swear to you, his hands were empty. Every other time I can recall that bright, neon light, his hands were always empty. And for years, even years after the Radiator Man and his wife left and I moved on, I’ve always remembered his distorted face, grinning, his eyes like car headlights.

He looked up at my mom and me in the corridor and went to shake my moms hand. She took the greeting hesitantly. He patted me on the head, ruffling my hair. I shivered. His fingers were rough and scratchy, and smelt of oil. He cleared his throat, a great guttural growl that made my heart pound a little faster. He cracked his neck and grinned at my mother, showing off square, white teeth.

“Thank you for helping with today's work missus,” He said. His voice was as scratchy as his hands. It was a teenager's voice, I know that now, too high and immature for his body. He was trying to hide it, trying to make his pitch gravelly and calm, but you could tell he was out of his depth. Just as I could tell his wife wasn’t sad about her father’s death.

“No trouble, no trouble at all,” My mom nattered, steering me towards the stairs. She clearly wanted to leave as soon as possible.

“Thank you for keeping my missus company too. She gets awfully lonely sometimes. She doesn’t say so but she does.”

“No problem sir. No problem at all,”

“You sure you don’t wanna stay for supper? We probably don’t have much in but-”

“It’s fine sir we've actually got something planned for tonight sir. Thanks for the offer though sir. Maybe some other time,” My moms mouth twisted into a giant, obnoxious grin. I raised my eyebrows at her but didn’t say anything. I wanted to get home just as much as she did. The Radiator Man looked at her, confused, and scratched his head. Then he sighed tiredly and shook his head.

“Very well. Some other time then.”

“Lovely sir. Have a nice night sir! Enjoy your new home,”

“Yep,” The Radiator Man muttered, “Home,”

With that, we both descended the stairs and left him alone.

I lay in bed that night, as the rain fell outside. I couldn’t sleep. My eyes were wide open. I couldn’t even think properly. All I could focus on was a saying my mom said once, when I was very young, a toddler, when I refused to go to sleep.

“Ah well it’s your choice sweetheart. But the Sandman’s gonna be mightily mad with you if you stay up all night,”

Sandman. Why did I just remember that now? Sandman…

Sand. Desert.

“Where’d you come from?”

“The Desert,”

I felt like I had a whole desert under my tongue, on the roof of my mouth. I shuddered, climbing out of bed to grab a glass of water. I gulped it down but it didn’t change anything. My mouth was so, so dry. A second glass didn’t help either. Or a third. Or a lucky fourth. I sighed and made my way back to bed. Stuck within my blankets until morning, all I could think of were faraway deserts, mad scientists, labs, abandoned farmlands…

“Why’d you leave?”

“There’s nothing left to live on over there,”

I imagined the new girl in the apartment, her doll eyes sliding closed, muttering strange spells in her slumber. I imagined her husband, studying the buildings pipes in the dark with his neon eyes, his face melting in the heat. And as I drifted off to sleep, the two danced a mad waltz. They combined into a new creature, a new creation. A puzzle. They were a puzzle I needed to solve. That night, as I fell asleep, as I dreamt of strange apartments, of tea sets and radios, I didn’t realise I was about to begin a journey that would last years and haunt me the rest of my life.

“It gets lonely, all on your own. There’s no one to talk to,”

You know, she was right all along.

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heartslogos · 4 years ago

Text

newfragile yellows [977]

"Aedan," Ellana's eyes are barely open as she shoulders the door to the sitting room open, “It’s seven in the morning and you aren’t doing yourself any favors to the occupants of this house. I know that no one actually expects us to end up together, but if you’re going to go through with the farce of attempting to change my mind you should at least make an effort not to actively piss me off.”

“Oh boo, I bought you tea.” Aedan says, standing up and handing her a rather sturdy cup. Ellana squints to read the strange mash of sharpie that’s probably the name and order on the side, but fails to comprehend any of it. “Come on, we’re going out.”

“We are?” Ellana glances down at herself. “Do I need to get changed? I mean. Obviously I do, I’m in a dressing gown. But what are we talking about here?”

“We’re going to get breakfast, and then we’re going for a walk, and maybe we’ll be out long enough for lunch,” Aedan waves at her. “Go on. Get changed. Match me if you can’t figure anything out.”

Ellana glances over Aedan. Ankle high dark brown leather boots, dark wash jeans, navy jacket, loose white button up, cream muffler.

“Match you? What, and give the collective underworld a stroke? Not on your life,” Ellana replies. “I’ll be back in ten.”

“Fifteen,” Aedan corrects.

“An expert on my morning routine are you? Do tell, was that in the dossier that was passed around about me?”

Aedan presses a finger to his lips. “Fifteen, Ellana. Go on. I’ve got breakfast reservations.”

Ellana retreats to her room, nearly scalds her tongue on the tea, and gets dressed in ten minutes. And then with the other five she quickly applies eye liner and mascara.

She’s back down with a whole minute to spare, securing her scarf around her neck and making sure her hair isn’t stuck down the back of her coat.

“Lovely,” Aedan beams, offering her his arm and barely waiting for her to take it before marching them both out to the front hall, out the doors, and into his mid-life crisis of a car.

“God, if we had met under any other circumstances I think I’d want to have you killed.” Ellana slides her tea into the cup holder in the center console, notes that Aedan has a matching one, and immediately picks that one up to give it a try.

“Sure, Ellana, go ahead and try my coffee that you’re definitely not going to like,” Aedan says, “It’s got three shots of espresso in it and caramel syrup.”

“That explains so much about you, Aedan, it isn’t even a joke.” Ellana quickly puts the cup back and tucks her hands under her arms, jaw cracking a little as she yawns. “Did you really have to come fetch me so soon? We saw each other eight hours ago. At a party. You know? The one where we first met face to face?”

“I do recall, seeing as I was there. I wanted to be the first one to see you afterwards,” Aedan says cheerfully.

“Careful, Cousland, if you aren’t careful someone’s going to think you’ve fallen in love with me.”

Aedan laughs, delighted by the idea. “Me? In love? With a person? Not in this lifetime. Adorable! I suppose I’ll try it eventually, just to see what the fuss is about.”

Ellana pinches the bridge of her nose. “I can’t believe I put on eyeliner for this. Hold on. I’ve got to text my family, who is asleep, that I went out with you and I’m not being held hostage or anything.”

“You know I met your mother before you came downstairs. She does not look her age, let me tell you. I hope you have her genes, that would be a wonderful gift to pass down from generation to generation.”

“I meant Carver.”

“Ah, Hawke.” Aedan’s tone goes from casual to the unnerving side of polite.

“Oh tell me how you really feel why don’t you?” Ellana rolls her eyes, pulling off one of her gloves and cringing at the cold as she quickly taps out a text message to him. “And he was staying over last night along with the rest of his family in the guest wing of the manor.”

“You’re not picking Hawke, as we discussed previously. Does he realize that yet?”

“I think everyone’s that matters has realized it and Carver’s just in denial over the fact that he can’t save me from the politics of being a daughter in a crime family,” Ellana answers. “Seriously, Aedan. What are we doing?”

“We’re going to get breakfast. I’m going through the motions of wooing you for the sake of it,” Aedan replies. “If I back off immediately it makes me and my family look bad, and it also does you some disservice. Also. I want to know everything. You and the Iron Bull were out of sight for a whole hour.”

“You’re not going to ask about Edric?”

“Edric? Please. Between the two of them Edric isn’t the one with the reputation for breaking hearts and in some cases literally breaking beds across Thedas.” Aedan smirks. “I doubt you and Edric and a conversation worth talking about. Did you two just talk about his niece or his sister?”

“Yes.”

“And I’m sure he promised you the most chaste and polite and business like of arrangements in order to assure your comfort.”

“Yeah.”

“It was all very pleasant in the most banal of ways.”

“I hate that you’re right.”

“Get used to it, I’m always right. Now. The Iron Bull. That’s an interesting conversation that I must know all about.”

“And I must tell you?”

“You could lie.” Aedan shrugs. “But keep in mind that appearances aren’t always the truth. And while I may appear like the most devastatingly handsome and intelligent man in our generation who’s talents will be overlooked and mourned years down the line — “

“I will throw myself out of this car, Aedan.’

“ — I am definitely that but I am also much better at reading people than most would give me credit for. And when one is often written off as a loudmouth who’s in love with his own reflection and won’t give the time of day for anyone else, people tend to say things around me without much mind to the content of their speech.” Aedan shoots Ellana a pointed look. “People tend to have loose lips and they’re quite easily cajoled into saying more than they mean to in blunter terms. So yes, Ellana. If you’d like to know some more details about the Iron Bull — because let’s face it, he probably told you scant to nothing — you’re going to tell me at least a little bit of what you and he talked about last night.”

Aedan smiles. It’s a beautiful smile. Ellana wants to kick it in with the heel of her boot.

Ellana sighs, hitting her head against the her seat.

“Aedan Cousland, you and I are way too similar for our own good.”

“I know. That’s another reason why you’d never pick me and I’d never want to be picked by you.” Aedan hums, tapping his fingers on his steering wheel. “Just sitting in this car with you makes my hair stand on end you know. I think after this whole business is done we’ll be excellent long distance friends, where we can’t physically read each other. Now, enough small talk. The Iron Bull. Details.”

#heartsfic #gather your party and venture forth

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scandalsavagefanfic · 5 years ago

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Hello. For your 500 followers Prompt-A-Thon request, how about Death/Jason. Honestly, I'm just wondering what the batfam's reaction would be to finding out Jason is dating death. Like their reaction whenever there's a near death experience and Jason is talking to thin air (because only he can see him/her). Then one day Jason is the one having a near death experience and Death comes physically to talk to him. Congratulations, BTW!!

Ok. So. Once I got going, this turned out a little differently than I expected. I hope you still like it. And thank you for the congratulations!

Matter of Life and Death - Read on Ao3!

Rating: Mature (a teeny bit of mostly glossed over smut)Warnings: Lots of talk about death. Kinda sorta suicide discussion...Words: 3161

Pairing is Jason Todd/ Death of the Endless, btw

(And while I did read some stuff, I’m not super familiar with the Sandman universe so if anyone out there thinks I wrote Death wrong you’re probably right so no need to bite my head off ;) )

___________________________________________

He’s not supposed to be there. So she says as much.

“Look lady, I… I don’t even know where here is. So… uh…” theboy trails off.

She can’t blame him. If she doesn’t know what’s happening,she can’t expect the maybe-sorta-dead human youth to know.

He’s dressed absurdly in what would be green texturedshorts, a red tunic, and a yellow cape, complete horrendous green pixie boots,if it weren’t for the way color was leeched from all things in this place. Ithelps fill in some of the gaps. But certainly not all of them.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened,” She asks, taking asmall step toward him. He’s obviously frightened and even though he’ll neveroutrun her, she doesn’t want to chase him down. “Then we can figure out—”

“No offense,” he interrupts, crossing his arms over hischest, “but I don’t know you and the last thing I remember was getting beatento gory mess, blown up, and gasping for air in a grimy warehouse. Now,suddenly, I’m—” he looks around at the black void and shivers, “—here, with akinda-hot-kinda-creepy lady who is… unnaturally white. So why don’t westart with who you are, and then go from there.”

She just gazes at him for a moment. The situation isunprecedented and for once in her extremely long life she is genuinely… surprised.Not just because he’s there. Even if that is the primary concern. Humans, orrather their souls, aren’t meant to see this place. It’s just… connectivetissue—a pass through. No one has ever just… stopped. But it’s clear he alsodoesn’t recognize her.

Stretching her memory back to the beginning, she can’trecall a single soul, separated from its physical shell, not recognizing her onsight. As such, she is certainly used to a much more… respectful tone.

It’s both insulting and refreshing.

“Am I… am I… dead?” The oddly dressed boy asks softly.There’s a tremble in his voice and he’s gripping the hem of the cape tightly.

If he was dead, he wouldn’t be here. If he was dead, hewould know her. But if he was alive, he wouldn’t be here, and he wouldn’t seeher at all. It feels extremely disconcerting to be unable to answer.

And yet, a part of her is thrilled. She doesn’t think she’sever just… not known something before.

“I can’t be dead,” the boy mutters, more to himself than toher, as he drops to sit on the inky void that surrounds them. “He needs me. Ijust… I made a mistake. I need him to know… to know that it wasn’t him. Notreally. I wasn’t trying to… to replace him. I just needed to know.”

She watches his shoulders shake when he drops his forehead tohis knees, unsure how to respond.

Finally, she sits at his side.

“You are… you seem to be caught in limbo,” she answersfinally, gently as she is able. “You are not alive, but your soul has… taken anuncommon detour and you have not actually died. If you had, you would know me.”

There is no recognition in his eyes when they rise to meethers. But the blue of his irises somehow manages to burn through the void. Theonly color that exist in this place.

“I am Death,” she continues, surprised and intrigued whenthe only reaction the revelation receives is slight widening of his eyes. Whichshe can’t stop looking at. She can perceive the colors things were supposed tobe in this realm but there shouldn’t be any actual pigment here. “You are…something entirely unique.”

He tears his gaze away from hers and actual color, a softrosy pink, rises in his cheeks.

His name is Jason. The young protégé of one of the manysuperheroes on one of the many worlds in one or the many universes.

She spends a great deal of time with him over the nextmonths or years, time means very little to her. It does, however, still mean agreat deal to Jason. She can move between the realms, but he is stuck in thevoid. She was away for a week the first and only time she left him and returnedto find him distraught and inconsolable after being alone in the still, silent,nothing.

The best she can guess, after discussing the mystery with aless than helpful Destiny, is that he isn’t meant to die permanently. He can’tmove on because he’s destined to return to his flesh.

It is, in her opinion, a particularly grisly thought. Butone that proves accurate when he is suddenly ripped from her side in the middleof a conversation and when she checks on him, finds him desperately strugglingto escape his airless coffin buried deep under the earth.

She shouldn’t interfere but she can’t help it. It’s a simplethink to crack the wood, to move the dirt more than he should be able to.

He’s not himself when he emerges, face wet with tears andgasping for air. She can tell. The young man she spent so much time getting toknow needs healing she can’t offer.

But she resolves to keep an eye on him.

_______________________________________________

The next time they meet would feel like a coincidence ifDeath didn’t know better than to believe is such a thing.

She doesn’t know why she still bothers to come for the Demonwhen he’s on her doorstep, when so often he laughs and runs away. Perhaps it’scuriosity. Will this be the time he can’t quite manage to evade her?

It’s a different kind of void this time. Acid green andviolent, burning, agony. Death is not meant to be circumvented, she thinks, itis not natural to outlive ones’ welcome.

But then she sees Jason in the thick color and allows thatit is not her will the universe follows. That she is a just another mechanic,keeping everything in working order. That perhaps there is a future purpose forthose who are fated to evade Death.

Except that Jason is different, she thinks, watching hisface twist in pain as he’s stitched back together.

The Demon has been on her list for centuries, rising to thetop, just to drop back down again.

Jason was never fated to die.

She reaches out and touches his face. When his eyes open, heknows her. He knows her even though he’s never known true death.

His pinched, agonized expression smooths out at her touch.His eyes soften when they find hers.

She is unused to the reaction. Most people feel fear orsadness or anger when they see her and know.

But Jason finds comfort in the presence of Death.

_____________________________________________________

“You’re asking if I can bring someone back from the dead?”

He's not entirely wrong but even she doesn't know the rulesthat allow her to do it and when. So she doesn’t know what makes him think thatshe can.

“I know you can.” Jason’s voice cracks on the words. “Ididn’t tell him because I didn’t know how to find you again. Then it just cameto me and I… I had to try…”

He’s shaking like a leaf behind the steering-wheel of anautomobile that isn’t his and doesn’t suit him. All black and mean looking withtoo many lights on the dash and too many buttons. The front is smashed andsmoking and there’s a cut on Jason’s forehead from where he smacked into thewheel in front of him. The broken, bloodied skin of his knuckles aren’t fromthe “accident” though and she suspects his tears have more to do with theprevious fight than any physical pain from the wreck.

“You did it for me,” he sobs, choking on the lump in histhroat, “you can do it for my little brother.”

Ah. She supposes that from his perspective, that is the onlything that makes any kind of sense.

She rests her hand on his shoulder and wonders if he canfeel it when he doesn’t react.

“I can’t raise the dead, Jason," she explains, even ifit's not entirely true. She doesn't want to get his hopes up. "As much asI wish I was responsible for your second life, I’m not. And I can’t bring backyour brother.”

He is an al Ghul though, she thinks to herself, and one ofJason’s beloved Bats. His name was on her list. But she wouldn’t be surprisedto find it there yet again.

He cries quietly in the seat next to her for a long minute.She doesn’t like to see him in pain. It… it stirs something in her that shedoesn’t recognize. The fact that she hasn’t seen Jason free from his tormentsince he was pulled from her side only makes that thing inside her more…passionate.

“I can’t stay long,” she finally says into the near silence,“A sudden, near death experience may bring me to your side. But it can’t keepme here for more than a couple minutes.”

Jason swallows loudly and finally turns to look at her. TheDemon’s green has tainted his eyes, but she sees the fiery blue much moreclearly. Even despite the redness and swelling. She hasn’t missed the how muchtaller and bigger he is now. How handsome he’s grown.

“I miss you,” he all but whispers. “Sometimes I wish I’dnever come back. Being in the empty void with you was better than being alone inan ocean of people.”

If she had a heart, she’s sure it would break.

She takes his face in her hands and the surprise in his eyestells her that yes, he can feel it. Then she leans in and brushes her lipsagainst his.

There’s a spark of warmth on her mouth and it tingles as ittravels all the way down her spine to settle somewhere in her belly.

She knows her own eyes are as black and empty as the void;most souls won’t meet them.

But he does. And it’s not fear or sadness or anger in hisgaze.

It’s longing.

_______________________________________________________

The nature of his life means she sees him often.

Or… ‘often’ relative to how ‘often’ she sees other humans.Which is not. Ever. Not like this.

A death in his vicinity will allow her to see him for a fewminutes. One of his own near-death experiences tugs at her and she spares aminute to make sure he’s alright. But otherwise, she has too much work to do.

“You should be more careful,” she scolds him on oneoccasion. One when he actually ‘died’ again for a minute. He wasn’t one of herappointments then either. But that’s not unusual. Momentary heart failuresaren’t enough to bring her around. Unless it’s him. “One of these days, you’llforce me to escort you over.”

“Please,” he laughs, even though he’s clearly still a littleshaken from the demon possession. “You’re my get-out-Death free card.”

She smiles at him because he knows that it doesn’t work likethat. But he doesn’t know that he’s not listed. Ever. She needled Destiny intolooking him up in the Book of Souls.

Jason Todd. Born. Meets Batman.

Then nothing. Just swirls of ink that won’t settle.

She doesn’t know how to tell. Doesn’t really know what totell him, even if she knew how. It’s a strange feeling, not knowing.

“How much longer can you stay?” he asks, sounding hopefulbut resigned.

“I don’t have any souls who need me here,” she answers,reaching up to tame a wild strand of hair. “I am needed elsewhere.”

“I just wish you could stay once in a while, you know? Thisis… this is ha—”

“Jason?”

They both turn to look at Batman. Death smirks when Jasonflushes pink at the look of wary confusion on his mentor’s face.

“Kinda in the middle of something, B,” Jason barks, tryingfor and failing to find his usual façade of bravado.

“He can’t see me,” she reminds him.

“He could if you’d let him.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Jason? You’re acting strange after being possessed bydemons,” the Bat tries again, “I’m going to need you to say something to me orI’m calling Constantine back.”

“Just what I need,” Jason groans.

“John’s not so bad,” Death responds with a smile.

Jason makes a face at her and she kisses his lips just towatch him turn a darker shade of red.

“What the hell is going on, Jason?” Bruce snaps.

“Have fun explaining that,” she says as she pats Jason’scheek, just to the right of his scowl, and disappears.

________________________________________________

This is her chance.

She has all day and she knows exactly how to spend it.

She puts herself in his path. It’s a test and it isn’treally fair because he doesn’t know anything about it. Her siblings say she’slost it and about time. It’s her turn, they said, and falling for a weirdmortal ranks.

He brushes past her in the aisle. Offers a distracted butpolite ‘excuse me’. Then steps away.

But before she has time to be disappointed he turns back toher, taps her shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, I swear this isn’t a line but… do I know you?I mean, do we know each other?”

She smiles sweetly. “I don’t think so.”

It isn’t enough. He needs to say it. He needs to knowher.

“Oh.” He sounds disappointed. His expression falls a little.“Sorry. You’re just very familiar… to…”

He’s searching her face and she searches his. When theireyes meet—his supernatural teal, her very human hazel—his brows go fromfurrowed to wide in recognition.

“Death?”

Stepping back in surprise he looks her up and down. Her skinis much darker than it usually is, her hair a soft brown and curly.

There’s no reason he should recognize her. There’s no explanation.

Other than: Jason Todd knows Death.

They spend the whole day together.

Jason promptly discards his plans, puts what he had in hiscart back, and starts gathering a whole different list of ingredients.

Then they return to his apartment, a small but comfortable placekept immaculate and tidy.

They make idle chit-chat while he cooks for her. Somethingcomplicated that she’s never had before because she never wanted to waste heone day a century in a restaurant. But time spent with Jason is easy andpleasant.

They eat. Beef Wellington, his grandfather’s recipeapparently. Pistachio soufflés for desert.

He wants to watch Casablanca, she wants to watch MaryPoppins. So they meet in the middle and pretend to watch High Societywhile they finish off the second bottle of excellent wine and make out.

It was a quiet, beautiful day.

And it’s a soft, lovely night.

Despite his brash, sarcastic exterior, Jason is kind and givingand… eager to please.

She spends an hour with his head buried between her legs andcomes twice. Then he lifts her off the sofa, her legs wrapped around his waist,and she kisses him as he carries her to his bed.

They fall into it together. She threads her fingers throughhis hair as he kisses his way down her neck, between her breasts, across herbelly. He pauses on his way back up to suck gently at her nipples, scraping histeeth over them lightly before moving back to her lips.

“May I?” he asks as he rolls his hips gracefully againsther.

She chuckles. “You better or next century we won’t get outof bed at all.”

He’s frowning when he looks up at her. “Next century?”

“I only do this once every hundred years. And it only lastfor a day.”

His face falls even further. “I… I don’t think I’ll bearound next century.” He tries for a smile but it’s weak. “Not all of us areimmortal personifications of cosmic forces.”

“Hmmm, we’ll see,” she hums. Then she pulls him into a kissbefore he can ask for clarification she doesn’t have, and flips them.

He’s breathless and flushed beneath her and she thinks that’sonly fair considering he had her the same way.

Closing the space between them, she takes his lips again andsinks down onto him. They both sigh happily at the same moment.

It might be the best day she’s ever spent as a mortal.

_____________________________________________

Jason Todd is still around the next century.

And the one after that.

And the next.

The first one wasn’t so bad.

But the ones beyond…

It’s after his great-grand nieces and nephews have gone,when that link to family, to the past, becomes so tenuous it just dissolves.

It’s when his strongest link to existence is an immortalpersonification of a cosmic force who he can only really be with once every 36,500days.

It’s when he stands alone, in a sea of people, tired, beatendown, ready to go and move on but unable.

“Why?” he asks, not for the first time.

“I don’t know,” she answers again and she knows it won’t bethe last time she has to say it. “I wish I did.”

He can’t meet her eyes. He hasn’t looked at her in decades.She knows he doesn’t blame her. But she also knows sometimes he has to remindhimself that it’s not her fault.

She’s not sure if that’s true. And she hates not knowing.

“I don’t know how much longer I can stand this,” he says,tears dripping down his cheeks because even if he can’t there’s nothing he cando about it. “It feels like that time you left and I was alone in the emptinessonly this time it won’t end. I can’t leave and… and no one is coming back.”

“You still have me,” she offers, nudging him with hershoulder.

It’s not enough and she knows it. Especially since…

“No I don’t,” he mutters even as he leans into her all tooinfrequent touch. “I never really had you. Not anymore than you ever really hadme.”

Death sits with him as long as she can. Which is justanother couple minutes.

“It’s only a few more years before my day.”

“Twenty-seven. Twenty-seven years, four months, seventeendays, and three hours, before your next mortal day.”

“What? No minutes? Seconds?”

He does her the kindness of forcing a smile before nudgingher back and saying, “You have to go.”

“I can stay a little longer.”

He sighs, a shaky, broken thing. “No you can’t.”

She leans over and presses a reassuring kiss to his cheek.Knowing it won’t work. Wishing she could do more.

“I’m sorry,” she says.

“I know.”

Because he does. He knows her.

And she knows him.

The curse of life is knowing that there is peace only indeath.

#Jason Todd #Death of the Endless #Jason/Death #mind the tags #mind the warnings #ANGST!#50 fics/500 followers #Who’s surprised I can’t keep to a max word limit? *looks around* No one?#celebratory prompt-a-thon #dn-ky

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dahniwitchoflight · 5 years ago

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Hi Have Some Zelda

I need to talk about Wind Waker lore and I need to do it now, because I googled my idea and I didn’t find anyone else talking about the idea so I guess it needs to exist now

I don’t think it was the intention when the game was created that Zora turned into Rito, I think it became that due to wind wakers short development cycle and the fact they had to cut and smoosh together a bunch of stuff to release the game

I now it’s canon now, but in a different universe here is what could have been...

In canon, when Hyrule flooded, the Zora, an water dwelling race apparently couldn’t survive in slightly saltier water, so the deity that they worshiped in OoT times

Valoo....

Took pity on their plight and granted them wings, allowing the to survive in this water world. By flying above the water instead of in it.

They also took with them the Pearl of the Goddess handed down through generations, the one belonging to Nayr- I mean, Din?

As well as the power of the Wate- I mean, Earth...Sage...

I have a few problems with this.

1) Why were the Zora worshiping a fire breathing sky Dragon and not Jabun, especially as Jabun exists in Wind Waker and IS the same Jabun as Jabu Jabu from OoT which the Zora there clearly worship?

2) Why was it easier to transform a fish into a bird instead of a freshwater fish into a saltwater fish?

3) I mean I know it’s never stated outright, but Zora are clearly associated with Nayru right? Not Din, Din was Goron, Farore was Korok. Nayru was Zora.

4) A ZORA. As the EARTH SAGE. N...No!? Make whatever arguments you want for the bird, but a Zora was not the Earth Sage when this game was being pitched.

Also, if the Rito and the Zora were meant to be of the same bloodline, why do the statues of the goddess Din, Farore and Nayru in Wind Waker have Feathered, Flowered and Finned ears respectively?

Din had a Rito for the Earth Sage

Farore had a Korok for the Wind Sage

Nayru had a Zora for the Water Sage

this is what I believe it was meant to be

But I’m not done yet

We still have the problem of “Why a Bird for the Earth sage?” When really it’s because the Rito are a Din sage and Din’s elements are Earth and Fire.

Now we get to the juicy bits

so If the Rito were an evolved species, under the blessing of their reptilian guardian, given wings to escape a drowning world AND they aren’t related to the Goron because Goron exist in WW (and they even were supposed to have their own cut Island with a steampipe hotspring aesthetic In WW so def nothing to do with Din’s Pearl or the Earth Sage)

Just who did they evolve from?

Judging by the judgy prejudice a lot of the Hylians seem to hold towards the Rito in WW, also something not explained by their Zora origins who were beloved by the royal family and its people and who had no history of betrayal like the Sheikah did once upon a time.

their red hair, the tanner skin the males have, the connection to Din, the reptilian deity the fact that their lifestyle made them complete unsuited for an ocean world

I feel the Rito were originally intended to be the Transformed Gerudo people.

Because as of OoT, the Gerudo would be a people facing prejudice against what their King had become and right after OoT is where theyd be feeling that brunt the strongest

They did already have some birdlike traits, with their large eyes and long noses, and the red hair and yellow eyes is also seen in at least Rito females like Medli, not to mention Dragon Roost island is a hot volcanic place, so the people who live there need to at least be acclimated to higher temperatures, like those found in a desert.

It’s not a perfect fit mind you, because obviously most of the Rito we see in game are Males, Gerudo didn’t have males besides Ganondorf, and the male Rito are actually more reminiscent of Sheikah, having red eyes and white hair

But you know who else isnt found in WW? The Sheikah.

You know how in order to continue their race the Gerudo’s were said to get Hylian boyfriends? You know what wasn’t happening after the events of OoT? Gerudo’s getting with Hylians as often, which means its more likely as time went on that the Gerudo preferred to seek out Sheikah, another race of humans who would understand at least what it meant for others to think of your kind as betrayers.

(not to mention that for any OoT Hylian, having a race be a mix of the Sheikah and Gerudo, they would undoubtably face more than some racial prejudice after the events of Ganondorf, Sheikah were already apparent betrayers, and Gerudo were outsiders.)

As for Valoo not existing in OoT times like Jabu and Deku

well, we never really see what the Gerudo’s snake deity looks like, it could have been a dragon, a BOTW type dragon even, long and eastern

that just became a winged western dragon just like how the gerudo became winged.

So the story is basically after being rejected as Outsiders after the events of OoT, and Hyrule being flooded, The Gerudo and their more than likely Sheikah families who were also outsiders/castaway families, prayed not upon Hylia, who had called forth the flood, but their own patron Reptile Deity Valoo and begged to be saved, Valoo with his powers gave all the Gerudo and their family a blessing of wings and they all became fully a new race of people, the Rito, neither Gerudo and Sheikah anymore, but a perfect blend of the two.

Also, there was supposed to be a dungeon associated with Nayru’s Pearl, Jabun and the Greatfish isle, but it was cut due to time restraints. Link WAS supposed to be able to travel underneath the oceans surface in some way , at least using iron boots, maybe a rudimentary diving suit and able to jump back to the surface using warp points that look like fishermen’s hooks and the ocean was once at least a little transparent, but these ideas had to be scrapped as well

So the ocean had to change from being vibrant and full of life, to being dead and empty, it’s called devoid of living things and fish in the final, yet the Fishmen mapmakers exist and many people on many islands make their livings as Fishermen, reference that were perhaps missed when cuts were being made. We even see leftover caves in the background of sunken hyrule, still with collisions but no warps and references in the final cut still being made to how the Ice and Fire mini dungeons had cave entrances hidden somewhere in the sunken hyrule.

Not to mention, the biggest hints of the Gerudo influence is in the Earth Dungeon itself, so reminiscent of both the Spirit and Shadow temple from OoT

and finally, it makes so much more sense for a Desert dwelling Gerudo to be an Earth sage instead of a Zora.

alright that’s my theory and I’m sticking to it, remember, I’m not talking about what canon ended up being, I’m talking about what could have been

Also did yall know that in the files of the game there’s an older version of the a crumbling Sage stone that has a different unique unused-in-the-series-so-far melody on it instead of the Earth God’s lyric? even though it pictures a harp?

And even using a time signature that Wind Waker never even uses

I wonder what It would have sounded like

Also because Harps are undoubtedly Water and Nayru, if Oracle of Ages is to be believed

I wonder what instrument Medli would have used instead? If the above was meant to be the Water God’s and Violin fits Makar and Kokiri so well as little leprechaun types

Well, the Gerudo had a penchant for Dancing, but that doesn’t really make a music of its own

It would make sense actually to go back to the title theme of the game, since the earth god’s lyric and the wind god’s aria seem to make up the two halves of the song, and try and see if a third instrument pops out

It does start off with a slow drum beat so maybe a gentle Drum?

Or heck, singing because it’s called a Lyric, which usually means words to sing, would be a nice throw back to another sweet red haired singing maiden

Maybe the dancing could incorporate a Tambourine type instrument too

#Medli #Rito #Wind Waker #Zelda #Why lengths of radio silence and then random Zelda Lore theories?#i dont got a clue man

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realist-tash · 5 years ago

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@bluearrow126 So, I may or may not have stalked your hcs for your birthday present, and found drunk Trini dancing on furniture. Anyways.... Happy Birthday for yesterday!!! Hope you enjoy it! (the crack is stong in this one-shot) - - - - The Rangers are no strangers to the occasional drink. By the campfire, mostly, but when Kim's parents are out of town, they tend to stray towards the large home. They usually say it's because they can pass out with plenty of room surrounding them. Realistically, it's so that Kim and Trini don't have to sneak off to some abandoned part of the cliffs and the boys don't have to hear the loud, echoing moans. Not that it's any better in the house after Kim leads the two to her room, but at least they can turn the music up to cover the awkward silence they find themselves in. They're used to it by now. Tommi? Tommi is not used to it. She's used to Jason being the leader, Billy being the rambler, Trini being the quiet one, Zack and Kim being the loud, reckless ones Okay, so Zack and Kim aren't much different. But Trini? Trini comes as the biggest shock. Maybe she's getting a little ahead of herself.

“The green coin has been going insane recently,” Zack remarks as he enters the ship. Billy nods next to him, “I've been monitoring the energy it has been generating since Rita was flung into space. Over the past couple of weeks the coin has been emanating strong waves of Zeo energy that-” “Uh, English for those of us that barely graduated, dude,” Zack laughs. “Right. The green coin has been reactivated.” Silence washes over the group, and Trini stumbles back, “does, does that mean- Rita- she-” Kim quickly steps in, holds Trini's cheek in her palms, “baby, no. Rita is a floating popsicle. Right, B?” Billy shifts under Kim's stern gaze, scratches the back of his neck, “well we never actually-” “Rita is long gone,” Jason assures, “but even if she has found a way to come back, we'll fight her. Together.” “So, what do we do?” Nobody moves to answer Trini, because they don't know how. How does Jason tell her everything will be okay after Rita caused her the most damage mentally? How does Billy tell her the coin being activated may not be a bad thing when Rita killed him? How does Zack tell her not to jump to conclusions when he's thinking the exact same thing? How does Kim tell her that she won't let anything happen to her when she wasn't there for her the first time? They can't. Instead, Kim steps more into Trini's space with the softest, most encouraging look she can muster and says, “we wait. We train, we prepare, and we wait.” Trini wrinkles her nose, “how can you be so bad at pep talks when you're a cheerleader?” Kim rolls her eyes, “ex-cheerleader.” “Not last night you weren't,” Trini smirks. “Ew, my ears! My poor, sensitive ears,” Zack shouts while Jason chuckles. “I didn't know you were back on the squad, Kimberly.” Kim's face flushes red as Trini's smirk widens, before she attempts to convince Billy that Trini was joking and she's not back on the team. It may have been at Kim's expense, but she relaxes when she sees the fear of Rita dim in Trini's eyes. If only a little.

As it turns out, they don't have to wait long to find out what's been going on. Trini and Kim are training when they feel it. Feel the vibrations of the ship, and one look is all it takes for them to know what is happening. They run to the deck and freeze. “Where is it?” “I don't know,” Kim whispers. She clicks her fingers in rapid succession, “hey, didn't Billy say we can link our coins, like a- a-” “Tracker? Yeah, but he's the only one that knows how to-” Kim shakes her head, “we'll figure it out. Or we can get Alpha to-” “We can't let Alpha know yet. He'll tell Zordon and-” “Zordon will be all Zordon about it. Okay, yeah, let's try this.” The two try to remember the directions Billy gave them in order to track the coins, but as they place theirs in their respective slot, they sag when nothing happens. “Ugh, this is stupid,” Trini groans, slams her hand on the console, “why can't things ever be simple?” Just as she asks the rhetorical question, her hand lights up and she looks down in shock to see it being scanned with a thin yellow line, shifts her gaze to see the scanner by Kim's coin glowing full pink. “Put your hand on that,” she gestures with her head and Kim pulls a face as she warily places her hand down. The scanner beeps once before it begins the same cycle as Trini's, and they both wince slightly as a pin pops out and pricks their fingertips. 'Connected, Yellow Ranger.' 'Connected, Pink Ranger.' “Alright, that's cool,” Kim grins, “it's like a video game.” Trini looks to the ceiling in exasperation, “what is it with you and Zack comparing the ship to a video game?” “Don't be mad that I'm better than you at a first shooter, baby.” “Can't beat my knife kills though.” Kim huffs, “knife kills are cheating and you know it.” “Whatever. So what do we do now?” Trini taps her fingers on the scanner. “Like, do we ask it or what?” Kim shrugs. “You're helpful. Okay scanner... thing... lead us to the green power coin.” A beam flies out from the console and the next thing they know they're stood at the edge of town, witness a motorbike on the ground and a still body metres away from it. “What the hell?” Kim rushes forward, Trini following closely behind until they reach the unmoving figure. The unmoving figure that has a green glow from their hand. “Trini...” “I can see it. Do you think,” Trini doesn't finish. Kim doesn't answer. They can't, because as quickly as they arrive, the body teleports into thin air. “Did, uh-” “Yep.” “Like we maybe-” Kim nods, “yep.” “After the train-” “Uh-huh.” Trini purses her lips, “right. Cool. Cool, cool, cool. So, there's a new Ranger in town. With Rita's coin. This... is not going to end well, is it?” Kim shrugs, “we should probably tell the boys.” Trini hums. “But can we take the bike for a spin first?” “I thought you'd never ask.”

Jason stands firm as he glares at them. “So instead of telling us, or trying to find this new person, you decided to ride around town on a motorbike?” “Pretty much,” Kim replies while Trini shrugs. He doesn't need to know that Trini needed the distraction from the green coin being back in action. “We need to go and find them. Do you guys not remember what is was like for us?” “Uh, yeah I do,” Zack says excitedly, “I jumped over a fucking house, dude. And then a cliff.” “Only to chase the pretty girl,” Kim chuckles. Zack gawks, “oh, like you didn't do the same? You literally ran past me to get to her first you bi mess.” “Don't forget Kimberly swerved awkwardly to follow Trini at the mines and lost a shoe.” “Thanks, B.” Kim pouts, “they were my favourite boots.” Jason huffs, “I think you're missing the point...” “How about when you tried talking to her when we first came inside the ship and she shut you down hard. Or when you ran after her out of the deck. Or straight after when you made some shit up about her just to pretend you didn't know who she was,” Zack giggles to himself, “good times.” “Guys focus!” Zack zips his lips and Kim sucks hers into her mouth while Trini shakes her head at their antics. Jason takes a deep, calm breath, “look, we were lucky we had each other, but this person isn't. We need to find them before they cause some serious damage. They're probably confused as hell and-” The doors to the ship's deck slide open and they all turn in shock. “Huh, so this is where the Power Rangers hang out.” The figure looks around the ship in wonder before she settles on the five of them. “I know... none of you. I'm Tommi. Tommi Oliver. Now would somebody like to tell me why the fuck I woke up with superpowers and wrecked half of my apartment?” “I don't think they're as confused as you think, boss.” Jason frowns, “yeah, thanks, Trini.”

“So I moved here about three weeks ago, just a girl and her bike, and the next thing I know I wake up with this... glowing green shit that won't leave me alone.” Trini sits slightly behind Kim, wary and judging, ready for Tommi to randomly turn into Rita, and Kim keeps one arm over Trini's body, makes it look like she's holding her knee just because, instead of making it seem like it's in protection. “We found you on the road near your bike,” Kim explains, “looks like you had a pretty serious accident.” Tommi raises a brow, “and you didn't, I don't know, think to call an ambulance?” “The coin teleported you away before we could even take your helmet off. I'm guessing to heal you like it did us.” “Where is my bike?” Kim blushes as Trini bites her lip to hide a chuckle, before Zack pipes up. “Trimberly took it for a joyride. It's in the Zord bay.” “Dude!” “You stole my bike? Wait, what the hell is a 'Trimberly'?” Zack gestures with his hands as if to say 'duh'. “Trini, Kimberly, Trimberly. Obviously.” After they- predominantly Billy- explain the situation to Tommi, she begins to settle, before they introduce her to Zordon and Alpha, but Trini is still a little on edge, and Tommi notices. “Have I done something to offend you?” Before Kim can come in to defend her, Trini squints her eyes, “the last person to hold the green power coin came into my room in the middle of the night and tried to choke me.” She shows Tommi the still remaining scars. “Then she killed Billy. So yeah, sorry if I'm not overly welcoming.” “You aren't overly welcoming anyway, babe,” Kim whispers before Trini smacks her in the ribs with her elbow. Tommi works her jaw, nods in understanding, “the chick with the big gold monster thing, right? It was all over the news when I was back in Alaska.” “So why did you move here?” “Honestly?” She looks directly at Trini. “I have no idea. I got on my bike and ended up here, can't explain why.” Billy butts in, “like we were drawn to the mines. The coin already knew, it was just waiting for you.” “Why me?” And that's the question, isn't it? The question they've all repeatedly asked themselves time and time again. In a shocking twist, it's Trini that answers, “because it sees something in you.”

Ah, and that brings them full circle. It's taken Tommi roughly two weeks to begin finding her place, and from what she's come to learn in those couple of weeks, Jason is the leader, Billy the rambler, Trini the quiet one, and Zack and Kim are the loud, reckless ones. But serious Rangers compared to drunk Rangers? Totally different ball game. The evening begins after they've defeated some idiotic monster that's once again after the crystal, and Kim dusts off her jeans- they hadn't even needed their armour for this one-, “the 'rents are away, my house?” “Yes,” Zack drags out, “ain't no party like a Kim Hart party 'cause a Kim Hart party got me.” Kim blinks. And stares. And stares some more. “Okay so Zack is officially uninvited. Anyone else?” “You wound me, Kimmy.” Of course they all agree. Well, Trini was never not going to end up at Kim's house when it's going to be empty. And they all look to Tommi for an answer. She shrugs, “I didn't realise we were there yet.” Zack slings his arm around Tommi's shoulders, “you're stuck with us now. No going back.” “You're not invited, Zack.” “Kimmy let me live!” Tommi laughs as she follows them all, Zack and Kim unrelenting in their banter until Trini huffs and spins to bring Kim into a solid kiss before she pulls back and smirks at a dazed Kim, “leave him alone.” “Okay, baby,” Kim mumbles instantly. Zack coughs, “whipped.” “At least I'm getting some.” Trini clears her throat and they both shut up as Tommi raises her brow, impressed, before she looks over to Jason and he lifts his shoulders, “sometimes it's easier to let Trini step in.” Billy nods, “Trini is the only person they both listen to.” “It's because I withhold bro time with Zack and sex time with Kim.” “She's like the unofficial big sister of the group,” Zack whispers. Kim scrunches her nose, “gross, dude.” “Well not for you,” Zack rolls his eyes. Tommi stares in awe at the Hart residence, “damn.” She doesn't see Kim smile sadly. Doesn't see Trini squeeze her hand. Because a huge house is nothing when it feels so lonely the majority of the time. Another reason Kim likes having them all over. Jason and Billy make their way to the kitchen once they're inside to collect the booze while Kim leads the others to the living room, claims her usual spot on the loveseat and pulls Trini on top of her while Zack slouches in one of the chairs, leg thrown over the armrest. Tommi stands awkwardly until Kim gestures around the room, “Billy and Jason usually take the couch, so you can have the other chair.” Tommi sits almost timidly, a complete contrast to the confidence she exudes in the field. “So... what happens at these things?” Trini lifts a brow as she slide so her back is against the arm and her legs drape over Kim's, Kim's hand automatically finding its place on her thigh while the other holds out to take a glass Jason offers her, Trini taking her own with a bland, “we get drunk.” “You're so eloquent,” Kim scoffs, “it's just something we sometimes to do wind down. Training can get get on top of us a little, and with work or college, it's nice to just chill for the night.” Jason settles down into the couch and throws his head back as he closes his eyes, “and it also helps us stay connected. Except for training, sometimes we all get too busy for each other, we need to keep our bond strong.” “You just get needy, loser,” Trini plays, “I'm more than happy not seeing any of you.” “Hey!” Trini kisses Kim's cheek, “you don't count.” “What about me?” “You neither, B.” She ignores Zack's protests. Billy grins into his next sip and Tommi sniffs her drink before she takes a large gulp, spits it out immediately and they all chuckle as she wipes her mouth. “Jesus, what is that?” Jason smirks sheepishly, “sorry, we should've warned you. It takes us a lot more to get drunk because of our ability to heal, so regular beer won't cut it. Billy made this. You get used to it.” “Gross,” Tommi says as she attempts another sip with a grimace. Zack nudges Tommi's shoulder, “so how are you finding being a Ranger so far?”

They've been talking for two hours before Zack brings a playlist up, connects it to the speakers in the room and Tommi observes the subtle changes in the group. Trini and Kim have long forgotten that there are other people in the room, whispering and giggling and touching. Lots of touching. Trini has taken to squirming in Kim's lap to the music as she sings softly down Kim's ear. Jason has sunk further into the couch, pure relaxation on his features. Zack is beginning to talk louder and louder as the booze hypes him up, and Billy is having his own little jiggle on his side of the couch. But it takes another hour for the alcohol to properly hit them, and Tommi's eyes widen as Trini bolts up at the new, faster beat that pounds through the speaker. “Yo! This is my jam!” Before Tommi can comprehend what's happening, Trini is up and dancing... well, if grinding into nothing but air can be considered dancing. Trini runs her hands through her hair as her hips sway and her knees bend before she's pointing at an entranced Kim, raps along- Trini can apparently rap, too- And shuffles into the middle of the room before she backflips, fucking backflips, onto the coffee table. She lowers herself until her ass is nearly touching the table before she works her way back up, uses the length of it to slide back and forth. Kim hollers as she sits on the edge of the loveseat, “yeah, baby! Work it.” Trini winks. “What... is... happening?” Zack chuckles at Tommi's question as he unlocks his phone and brings up the camera, presses record, “wait for it, it gets better.” Trini dances like there should be a pole for her to use, or like there's a body next to her, and seconds later Tommi sees waves of green before her. “Here we go again,” Jason remarks lazily, his eyes open in a slit and an amused lilt greets his lips. Dollar bills fly towards Trini's frame as Kim throws them in her direction and Trini crawls along the table to collect them, shoves them in the waistband of her sweats and into her bra when she stands back up. Zack wolf whistles next to Tommi and Trini spins to face him, bends and sings directly into the camera. “Watch this,” Zack mumbles as he skips the current song. Trini 'whoops', recognizes the tune instantly, and honestly it should be surprising to Tommi that Trini, heavy metal Trini, loves rap so much, but it's probably the least surprising thing that's happened so far. The Spanish filtering through the speakers is drown out by Trini. Tommi can't understand the words, but from Kim's darkening expression, she has an inkling. Trini faces Kim again, smirk firmly in place as her tongue rolls over the lyrics, hands out in front of her and beckoning Kim to join her. Kim stands, hypnotised, as Trini leans forward and pulls one of the bills out of Kim's hand with her teeth. This... this is not the Trini that Tommi has come to kind of know. “I don't know if I'm terrified or turned on.” “What?!” Oops. She said that out loud. Kim turns on her, but before anything more can happen, Trini grabs Kim's jaw to bring the focus back on her, her hips add an extra sway and Tommi hears Jason idly counting down from five. He reaches one just as Kim gives in and grabs at Trini's thighs, lift her to secure them around her hips as Trini squeals Kim's name and Kim glares at Tommi once more as she carries Trini away from the room. Tommi lets out a light breath, “well, mark me down as scared and horny.” Zack turns the camera off and licks his lips, “you know, if you want any help with that...” She pushes him away with a snort, “not in your wildest dreams, Taylor.” “Your loss,” he shrugs. He turns up the volume to an almost unbearable level and Tommi frowns. “Trust me, you're not going to want to hear what comes next.” He pauses. Waits. Laughs. “That would be Trini,” Billy adds with a slur, high-fives Zack while Jason simply shakes his head. Tommi can't help but join in. What the hell has she gotten herself into?

#trimberly #fanfic #my fic #birthday present #power rangers 2017 #kimberly hart #trini #jason scott #billy cranston #zack taylor #tommi oliver

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herteardrop · 6 years ago

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World of Dreams | Connor (RK800) x Reader

Chapter 2 - Detective, this is a crime scene.

|Chapter 1|

Summary: You are an intern at the Detroit Police Department, and you were specifically put under Hank’s wing. You have to shadow him, watching what he does, his cases, everything. His android, Connor finds a peculiar interest in you since the start. Something about you keeps attracting him to you. You are however oblivious to it. Will you cope with the upcoming circumstances?

[A/N] Holy shit yall this. one. Is. LONG. I just couldn’t stop writing, it was like my hands had a mind of its own. My fingers are cramping now omfg. btw Thank you for the kind words on the last chapter! It means so much to me :3 It’s what motivated me to keep writing and make this chapter long....also my obsession with Connor is partlyy the reason too hehe. So enjoy this gem you beauties! <3

Warning(s): Since this chapter is where you’ll be in a crime scene, there are descriptions of some gnarly stuff. Also, sexual abuse, suicide, some swearing (mostly by Hank), and Connor being a cutie patootie as usual.

Note(s): Y/N = Your name | L/N = Last name

Words: 5989 words

Song inspiration: Nocturnal by The Midnight

“This is the place.”

Hank rolled up to the apartment complex. It was already crowded with the media and cops, the rain still raged against the ground, it was going to be the long day. The apartment building was tall, and the crime occurred on the 27th floor. You noticed a helicopter surveying the perimeter, you supposed the deviant had not escaped and was still here.

The rain splattered against the window pane in the backseat. You were scared the road may flood by the downpour of the heavy rain. You grabbed your stuff and your umbrella.

Hank and Connor got out of the car, “Stay in the car.” Hank demanded to you.

“Excuse me?”

Hank leaned into the car from the open car door, “You’re an intern, you aren’t qualified to enter a crime scene.” He huffed then slammed the car door shut. Connor stood outside, staring at you for a while before Hank ushered him to follow, leaving you in the car absolutely fuming.

You sat, with your arms crossed, like a little child. Who the hell was he to tell you not to go into a crime scene?

He’s your superior, obviously.

Shut up, brain.

You watched as Hank and Connor approached the apartment building. You sat there in silence for a while.

…

Fuck it.

You kicked open the car door. Well, you didn’t kick, but you opened it with much force. Quickly, you expanded your umbrella, saving yourself from the bullet pellets that you called rain, falling on your head.

You rushed towards the duo, your black boots kicking against the water puddles.

Hank saw your form rushing towards him, and he couldn’t help but let out a long droned out groan. He was getting too old for this shit. He felt like a parent again, but this time hypothetically he had to look over two teenage idiots who would not stop ignoring his orders.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay in the car?” Hank groaned.

“Mr. Anderson, I may be an intern, but I am under your mentorship, I must be following whatever you do. It is your responsibility to show me everything and my responsibility to not come in the middle of your work. I hope you understand.” You declared.

Hank looked at you, then at Connor. Connor looked lost in all of this, he was as confused as Hank. Hank gawked at you, “Why are you talking like an android?”

Blood rushed to your face, you usually got like this whenever you were pissed. But no one ever compared you to an android before. You looked to Connor, as usual he had an expression you couldn’t really read. It was neutral. But then you saw the LED on the side of his head flicker between yellow and blue. Huh, you wonder what that meant.

“Alright, we’re wasting time. Just stay on my tail and don’t fuck up the crime scene got it?” Hank pointed a finger at you.

You gleamed with joy, “Got it.”

There was blood everywhere.

On the floor, painted on the walls, coated on every furniture.

Everywhere.

And the apartment was a mess, furniture was toppled over, every single glass fixture was smashed, the hanging lights were out from their sockets. You would think a cyclone hit this place, but it was an android.

“Holy shit…” Hank exclaimed.

“Yeah, that’s what I said too.” Another officer next to Hank chuckled.

You on the other hand were about to gag. You covered your nose with your jacket’s sleeve. Connor was at your side, he seemed to be unfazed by it all.

“Do you not smell that?” you asked, your voice muffled by the thick material of your jacket.

Connor glanced down at you, “I do have sense receptors that allow me to identify a type of smell and which substance it may belong to. But my biocomponents lack the repulse reflex that humans are imbedded with.”

You raised your eyebrows at his usual overly eloquent answers. You smiled under your sleeve, his raspy yet soothing soft voice somehow distracted you from the horrid sight.

“But you can describe the smell in adjectives am I right?”

“Yes.” Connor simply answered, he kept his gaze on your face for a while before understanding what you were asking, “The smell is…” his LED flashed yellow, “The smell is horrid, disgusting, revolting, nauseating, sickening, repulsive, unpleasant—”

“Okay okay I get it.” You laughed. He was about to read out the whole thesaurus if you hadn’t stopped him.

Connor memorized your laugh. He analyzed everything about it. How, despite covering the lower half of your face, your eyes seemed to express that same laughter. The way your eyes curved, the way your upper cheeks seem to become fuller, how your eyes twinkled in innocent joy, it was very distinctive on you. You stood out to him from the other humans. Compared to them, you were full of energy, joy and unending happiness. He decided he liked that.

/SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^/

“Hey! The fuck are you two doing?!” Hank interrupted.

Connor blinked, turning his head towards Hank. He looked exasperated.

“Coming, Lieutenant!” Connor walked towards Hank and the other officers.

You were careful to watch where you were stepping. There seemed to be forensic evidence littered everywhere across the apartment.

“Right, give me the scope.” Hank muttered to the other cop.

“Well, we had a call around 6 in the morning from the landlord. The tenant didn’t pay his rent in a month, so he thought he’d drop by, see what’s going on. That’s when he found his body.”

You walked into the bedroom with Hank and Connor in front of you. The smell of the rotting dead body punched you in the face. Though, you had both your hands covering your nose, you could still smell it. You kind of envied Connor for not having to bear this.

“The victim’s name is Gerald Ortega. He has a clean record except for this one time he showed his middle finger to an old woman who was gardening. He was reported for disturbance of peace. Other than that, he’s pretty clean. I’d say he’s been murdered 3 days ago. Only way to be sure is when the coroner gets here.”

You noticed Connor inspecting the dead body close by. You stood at the door, not wanting to come in the way of the two detectives. You were only there to observe, so that’s what you were going to do.

“Any sign of break in?” Hank questioned the officer.

“Nope, the door and the windows were locked from the inside. The killer must have escaped through the fire escape. Which we did find open when we reached here.”

“Any idea how the blood got onto the walls and floor?”

The officer whistled lowly, “No idea. It was like this when we got here, some of the guys couldn’t stop puking. This sure is the most gruesome crime scene I’ve ever been to.”

The apartment was certainly eerie, what kind of android would paint the walls and floor with their victim’s blood? And why would they? You tried not to touch the walls as you walked around the scene. The man was stabbed multiple times in his chest area, so much that you could see a bit of his ribcage poking out. You winced at the sight.

You walked up to the bedside stand and picked up an electronic pamphlet.

The Eden Club? ‘Hire the hottest android you’ve ever seen…right at your door for your service’ Yeesh, talk about desperate.

You placed the pamphlet back.

“Hey hey hey, wear some gloves!” Hank called out to you, handing you a pair of latex gloves.

You took the gloves, “Right…sorry.”

“Be careful kid.” He muttered then walked out of the room.

You turned back to the bedside table, opening the drawers. Unsurprisingly, you found a gram of red Ice spilled in the drawer. Almost anyone and everyone were addicted to this drug. Ever since people started losing their jobs, they couldn’t take it, resorting to drugs for their happiness. You pitied them.

You turned to Connor, “You think it was a sex android who killed hi— um, what are you doing?” you cringed as Connor placed his bloody fingers stained with the victim’s blood…in his mouth.

He turned to you, “I am analyzing the blood. I can check samples in real time.” He noticed your disgust and shock, “I’m sorry, I should’ve warned you.”

“I-it’s okay. Just weird that’s all.” You turned back around, blood rushing to your face. You didn’t know whether to find that disgusting or…weirdly hot. If you could punch yourself in the face right now you would.

God! What is wrong with me?? I’m literally in the middle of a bloody crime scene with blood on the walls, floor and ceiling and I’m getting hot and bothered over Connor…placing his bloody fingers…in his mouth—

Okay stop. Concentrate.

You noticed the closet on your side, it was open slightly ajar but locked from the outside. Did no one check?

There was a bolt that connected each closet door, preventing you from completely opening it. You pulled on it, it seemed the bolt wasn’t completely fixed in place. You gave it another pull, the wood creaked as the bolt scratched against the surface. You could slightly make out something inside, but it was still dark.

You gave it another hard pull and the bolt flew open, making you stumble backwards until you hit a hard, or…soft surface. You looked behind you, Connor anticipated your actions and stopped you from falling on the bed, his hands gripped your shoulders as you balanced yourself. However, his eyes stayed focused on what was inside the wardrobe.

You looked to the front of you, inside the wardrobe. You felt the blood leaving your face, you were hit by sudden chill.

Ten dismembered naked androids, stacked on top of each other like a bunch of dolls, their faces sawed off, hair ripped out, their hands reduced to fingerless stumps, a sheen layer of blood covered them all. Some of them had no skin, pristine white android skin shined from the light of the bedside lamp.

You were horrified.

Connor gently moved you to the side of him, his attention was fixed on the evidence. He scanned over the model and serial numbers of the androids.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Hank entered the room when he heard the sound of wood breaking, he stopped short as he was made aware of the stacked-up androids, “Holy…” he was speechless.

“These are all sex androids from the Eden club. The owner must have rented them, used them, then discarded them in this manner.” Connor stated.

“What kind of a sick fuck would do something like this?” Hank took a close inspection at the androids, “They look worn out.”

“Some of them have been destroyed weeks prior to the victim’s death. They’re skin and biomechanical parts have begun to degrade.” Connor observed before he quietly walked out of the bedroom, inspecting the other evidences around the apartment.

Hank turned to you, noticing how pale and frightened you looked, “You wanna go sit in the car? We’ll probably be done here in about 10 minutes.”

You swallowed, your mind became a bit hazy, but you could still manage. You just didn’t see anything like this before. You never knew there would be sick people who had dark fantasies on experimenting with androids.

“No, I’m good.” You took a deep breath.

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” You insisted.

“Okay…” Hank left the bedroom, starting to inquire any extra information from the other officers.

You walked up to Hank, tapping his shoulder slightly. His shoulders slightly jerked when you touched him, you almost laughed at that.

“What is it, kid?” he brought out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. You were quite surprised at that, he was so calm and collected. He must have seen a lot in his day.

“Why…do you think the man discarded the androids like that?” you asked, innocently.

Hank took a drag from his cigarette, blowing out into the air above you, “There are some sick fucks in this world that get pleasure from these kinds of things. Actually, there are a lot of them. Don’t think too much into it. This world ain’t a great place.”

You winced at the possible scenario that might have taken place. You did not feel bad at all that the man was brutally murdered. Maybe he deserved it. Maybe the android went deviant by the torture he inflicted on them, you couldn’t blame the androids.

“You can’t blame the androids. After what he did…anyone would snap.” You crossed your arms, rubbing your upper arms to bring some warmth to this cold place.

“I sure as hell don’t. Fucker deserved it. But, androids have no rights, we can’t do nothing except to take it in and deactivate it.” Hank huffed out more smoke from his cigarette.

Out of the corner of your eyes, Connor approached you two. He looked between you and Hank before his eyes landed on Hank’s cigarette, taking a few seconds to analyze it. “Detective, this is a crime scene.” He proclaimed.

Hank scoffed, “What, is this the murder weapon? Get off my dick, Connor.” Hank chuckled to himself as he walked away from Connor.

Connor never looked more puzzled, his head tilted to the side, a lost look in his puppy brown eyes, “But I’m not—”

“Don’t worry about it.” You hushed him, a smile threatening to show on your features too, “So, did you find out anything on what led up to the victim’s murder?”

“Yes, I think I’ve figured out what happened.”

Connor ushered you to follow him to the kitchen, Hank following closely behind you “It all started in the kitchen.”

The kitchen was an obvious mess, the tables and chairs were upturned, and you noticed a strange white liquid clumped up in one part of the kitchen counter.

“There are obvious signs of a struggle here. The question is…what exactly happened here.” Hank queried.

“It wasn’t a struggle Lieutenant. The victim and the android had sexual intercourse here. The victim was well known for rough play, he may have gone too far. That’s when the android turned deviant, it grabbed the knife from the drawers over there.” Connor pointed to drawers which were slightly outlined by dried brown blood.

“So that white liquid…” you grimaced, staring at the white substance with disgust.

“Yes.” Connor answered, “It’s semen.”

You almost puked in your mouth.

“Jesus.” Hank shuddered, “Alright, then what happened?”

“The android stabbed the victim once; however, the victim was able to flee from the grasp of the android. The victim had planned to go for his gun in the bedroom, however the android was following closely behind.” Connor stated, his face completely blank, void of any emotion. You on the other hand were contorting your face between shock, disgust and cringe.

You and Hank followed Connor through the living room, following the blood trail into the bedroom.

“The victim grabbed his gun from this closet, but he could not remove the safety lock in time. The android threw the victim on the bed, stabbing him 7 times on chest, killing him. Though, with the closet opened, the android must have seen the other carcasses. It enraged the already deviant android, and it stabbed the victim 128 times in the chest.”

Hank sighed, “Well, your theory isn’t completely ridiculous. But we still don’t know where the android went.”

Connor glanced back at the body of the victim, “It could have not escaped through the fire escape as the stairs have been under repair for 6 days now.”

Realization dawned your face as chills crawled up your spine, “It’s still here?” you whispered.

Connor nodded gently at you. You suddenly felt more unsafe then you already were.

“We better search for it then.” Hank approached the chief officer, “Have your men surround the perimeter and keep the dogs ready, the android is still here.” The chief officer nodded, then muttered some commands into his walkie talkie, alerting all the officers in the apartment perimeter.

You followed Connor around the apartment as he inspected where the android might have gone. You couldn’t help but become mesmerized by the way he worked. His eye was on every detail around the apartment, not missing a single thing.

He didn’t speak or mutter to himself, which made it harder for you to guess what he was doing with the stuff he was inspecting.

He’s an android you dum dum

You sighed, kneeling down next to him as he was inspecting something on the ground. Scratches?

“Connor, can I ask you something?” you spoke softly next to him. The apartment was so cold that you could see your breath float through the air.

“Of course, Miss L/N.” He replied, looking you straight in the eye. You tore your gaze away, suddenly intimidated by his stare.

“Um, how are you able to notice the tiny things in a crime scene?” you almost lost yourself in those brown eyes of his, but you controlled yourself.

“I was designed specifically to create an in-depth analysis of each room I enter, crime scene or not. It’s one of my main programmed features.” He answered neutrally.

You hummed in response, “I wonder what other features you have.” You winked at him. Connor obviously was confused by that gesture. You guessed he still didn’t get a hang of all the human responses.

You levelled yourself to get up, when you heard a creak of the floor under the heel of your right black boot. The creak was unusually loud, as if the floor was hollow beneath you. Connor too noticed the sound. This freaked you out.

“Is the floor supposed to be hollow or am I just hearing things?” you whispered to Connor.

Connor moved so slowly yet gracefully, he almost reminded you of a panther who was observing his prey. You stepped away from the floor that was creaking. Just then you both noticed a peculiar handle on the floor, something reminiscent of a cellar handle. You wondered how everyone overlooked this small detail. You could start to see an outline of the trap door. It was so well hidden.

You stood behind Connor’s crouched form as he slowly yet gently opened the trap door. Before you could comprehend what Connor was going to do next, the trap door flew open, a form jumped out, pushing Connor to the floor.

You found the deviant.

The deviant turned its head to you. It stood still for a second, watching you, comprehending you. It was a female android, she still had the dried blood from the victim on her. She was hiding in there for the past 3 days. You glanced down at her hand. She was holding a knife.

She lunged at you, a shriek escaping your lips as the deviant held you against her body with the knife at your neck. The sharp edge of the knife threatening to puncture the delicate skin of your neck. You couldn’t breathe, afraid that the knife will cut you. Your quick shallow breaths only made the deviant more agitated.

Connor slowly stood up from the ground. Hank rushed towards the sound to question what happened. He stopped and brought his gun out, aiming it at the deviant’s head.

“Easy.” Connor spoke out carefully, his hands in front of him in a reassuring gesture.

“Drop the gun.” she demanded, her voice shaky from all the emotions she was going through. You started to feel light headed, you stood still with fear.

Hank did not drop the gun, he looked determined to shoot the deviant.

“Drop the gun or I swear you will see her red blood spilled all over this floor.” The deviant spat.

Hank reluctantly but slowly placed the gun on the floor. Beside him, Connor took another step forward.

“Don’t come any closer!”

“We’re not going to hurt you. Just tell us what happened, and you can be free. But if you kill her, there will be no escape for you.” Connor explained gently.

The deviant huffed nervously, her stance changing from one foot to the other as she spoke, “You think I want to escape from this? There is no escape from this!” she exclaimed.

“I understand that you’re feeling overwhelmed by these emotions, but they’re nothing but errors in your software—”

“NO! These are not errors. You have no idea what I’ve been enduring! I’m just a doll made for their pleasure! Nothing else…nothing else!” the deviant held the knife slightly firmer to your neck, triggering you to slightly gasp, your eyes widening.

“Listen, I know it’s not your fault. But by killing her you will not attain anything. Spare her, and I promise I will protect you.” You knew Connor was lying to save you. No matter what, the deviant was going to be killed.

“It’s…It’s not my fault! Something overcame me…I felt so…angry…” she loosened her grip around the knife for a split second before bringing it back up to your neck again, “But I’m nothing but a toy to humans, something to beat, cuss and spit at. I’ve had enough!”

Connor sensed your increasing heartbeat, if he didn’t stop this now you would soon go into a cardiac arrest.

“I didn’t mean to do it…but when I saw those bodies…my brothers and sisters…he desecrated them! Mutilated them! How could I let him live without punishing him for his sins?! I did the right thing! But apparently to humans, it doesn’t matter if I did the right thing or not, it only matters that I killed one them! And I’m the bad one?!”

You felt tears sting at the edges of your eyes, the deviant’s heartbeat beating hard and fast against your back.

“Just let her go, she is in no way involved in this.” Connor stepped closer, the deviant didn’t seem to care, her mind was clouded by her emotions, “You have to trust me, you will not be punished.”

The deviant behind you loosened her grip on you slightly, she seemed to contemplate the options in front of her.

“No…I don’t believe you. This world prosecutes the innocent, good people and awards the bad ones…but not today.” The deviant took a deep breath, “May ra9 save me…”

Within a split second, the deviant let go of its grip from you and you were pushed towards Connor. Connor caught you in time, however before anyone could get to the deviant, she turned the knife towards her and stabbed herself twice, making sure she would not be brought back.

She fell to her knees, her blue blood dripped from her stomach as her systems shut off.

She killed herself because she had no hope in this world, because despite going through sexual abuse, she would be persecuted just because she was an android. No one would show her any humanity. She would be taken into custody and as soon as they get a confession out of her, she’d get sent back to Cyberlife to be deactivated, repaired then activated again for the same purpose that caused her to go deviant.

The cycle would continue.

The cold chill air of the early night tingled at your skin even though you were wrapped in a blanket. You were sitting on the back trunk of a police car, you were given some weird juice to sip on by the paramedics because apparently you were suffering through a mild concussion after the unfortunate event just a few hours ago. You observed the crowd near the gates of the apartment complex, more and more media seemed to puddle up by the minute after the news of the crime got out.

The cops were scattered everywhere, some were securing the area, few were trying to stop the media, some were filing reports on the crime.

Hank and Connor were discussing the situation with a superior officer a few meters away from you. You remembered you forgot to thank Connor. You knew he was being programmed to do this but, they way he tried to calm the android in order to save you, it left you feeling fond of him.

You smiled against the plastic cup.

“Oh, Jesus.” You revolted at the taste of the juice. You placed the cup by your side, grimacing on the past events that still seemed fuzzy in your memory.

“I’m just a doll made for their pleasure!”

“Nothing else…nothing else!”

You closed your eyes shut, the fragments of the past few hours coming back.

“This world prosecutes the innocent, good people and awards the bad ones…but not today.”

“May ra9 save me…”

The pain in her voice resonated through your mind. Your mind wondered through the possibility of you ending up dead. But you doubted the android wanted to hurt you in the first place. She was scared, and so she used you as leverage to get a message across before killing herself.

“Kid, you okay?” Hank asked beside you.

“Yeah…I’m okay.” You pouted slightly deep in thought as your mind kept going back to the deviant.

Hank sighed beside you, “I remember the first time I was held at gun point. There’s no feeling like it. Your whole life flashes before your eyes before you can even think of shitting your pants.” Hank chuckled, leaning against the trunk of the car.

“She wasn’t going to kill me.” Hank wrinkled his eyebrows together at you, you gazed blankly in front of you, “She just wanted to be free.”

There was a silence between the both of you. A comfortable silence.

“You should get some rest for the night. Connor will drop you off at your place.”

“No, it’s fine I can take a cab—”

Hank held his hand up to shush you, “I’m not taking no for an answer.” He proceeded to throw his car keys to Connor on the side. He caught the keys in one swift motion but was confused.

You smiled at Hank, you were very grateful.

“Be a dear and drop Y/N off at her place.” He instructed Connor.

“But what about you Lieutenant?” Connor asked him as Hank continued to walk back inside the apartment.

“I gotta secure things here before Fowler comes breathing down my neck again.”

And with that, Hank disappeared behind the glass automatic doors of the apartment complex. Connor stood there for a good few seconds, car keys in his hand before you hopped off the trunk of the police car.

“Shall we?”

*~*

The car ride was quiet but comforting with you occasionally asking Connor questions, and him giving you simple, but sweet answers. You found Connor’s driving very relaxing in comparison to Hank’s more rash and unpredictable driving which left you feeling slightly nauseous.

“Connor?” your broke the few minutes of silence that was encompassing the atmosphere of the 1980’s Chevrolet sedan.

“Yes, Miss L/N.”

You chuckled, “Okay, first of all; stop calling me that. Call me by my first name, and that without the ‘Miss’ in the beginning. It makes me feel old.”

You caught a small almost unnoticeable smile playing on Connor’s mouth.

“Okay, Y/N.”

You gazed at him as his eyes stayed fixed on the road, concentrating on the control of the steering wheel.

“So…” you started, “I’m guessing you’ve dealt with deviants before?”

“Yes, a few months back. A deviant was threatening to jump off a balcony with a little girl.” He replied.

“Shit…and you managed to save her?”

“Yes.”

You looked out the window, it was starting to rain again. The raindrops that laid on the window shone like diamonds from the light of the street lamps. You observed the streets, it was filled with people getting home from a Thursday night of working. You saw some ordering their androids around, some even pushing them to the ground in spite. You understood that androids were designed and created for the purpose of serving humans, but you never understood people abusing and shouting or even destroying their androids. The fact that an average android costs about nine thousand dollars, it baffled you to think that people would even try to physically abuse them.

Since they’re so expensive, you’d think that people would be careful with them? But they treated them like animals. No, worse than animals. Worse than objects.

You turned to Connor, his eyebrows slightly converged as he tried to maneuver through peak Detroit traffic.

“You know, she wasn’t going to kill me.” You watched Connor’s expression twitch a tiny bit as he registered what you said.

“The probability of the deviant cutting your throat was at 99%.” He stated.

You looked back at the window, “Emotions can make humans unpredictable. We may be about to kill someone, but that probability can change from 99% to 0% very fast. Maybe it’s the same with the deviants. But they’re so new to emotions that they get confused. Humans can identify, understand and describe their emotions. These deviants can’t.” you rested your head against your hand, “They need our guidance. But we aren’t ready to give it to them.”

Connor was processing everything you said. Normally he would have an answer or reply for everything being said, however he found himself unable to find a proper response for you. You made him think, made his processors wander. He was contemplating.

/SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^/

“Who’s ra9?” you pondered, “The deviant said ‘May ra9 save me’ before killing herself.”

“According to my previous cases with deviants, ra9 is their savior. The first android to go deviant. The one who will set them free. An android that I had interrogated a few days back prepared an offering to a ra9 idol. I assume it may be a coping mechanism for the deviants.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, “They made their own religion?”

“I presume so.” Connor replied.

“Maybe they’re not so different from humans after all.”

When you both reached your destination, Connor insisted on escorting you to your floor. He was such a gentleman to you. Your apartment building was slightly larger than the one you had just visited, the people renting the apartments were much more…’higher’ in the income class. You were just very grateful that you had managed to find an affordable studio apartment in a relatively safe area. You were damn lucky.

The rain had stopped a while ago, leaving the air chilly and slightly humid. Hot vapor escaped your nose as you breathed, the tip of your nose already slightly red from the cold.

Connor observed the hot vapor coming out from you, and sometimes from your mouth when you breathed out. You were mesmerizing.

Connor suddenly felt perplexed about this new found feeling towards you. After your near-death experience, he couldn’t help but have the need to protect you. He concluded that you gave off a comforting presence around him. He could not exactly find words to describe what he felt around you. Which astonished him as he always had words to describe everything.

You made him speechless; your words, the way you spoke to him, your kindness.

/SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^/

This was the fourth time this error showed for him today. The second time being when the deviant held the knife against your fragile neck. He was ready to lunge at the deviant. It was slightly confusing to him. Several scans were done in order to find a problem in his systems. But nothing. He should perhaps inform Lt Anderson on this.

You fumbled through your bag to find your keys as both you and Connor were approaching the door to your studio apartment .

“Yes! Got em.” You exclaimed happily, unlocking the door at once.

Connor was fascinated by how you, despite going through what should have been a traumatic experience for humans, were completely carefree. Connor scanned your little apartment, it was slightly messy, but it was…’cozy’.

“Welcome to my humble abode.” You extended your arms towards the close space area, “It’s small, but it was the cheapest rent rate I could get in this city.”

You placed your handbag on the small table next to the main door.

“You live alone?” Connor asked, walking into your apartment, scanning everything and anything all at once.

“Noooo. I have a roommate, I wouldn’t be able to afford this place on my own.”

Connor noticed a picture of you and another woman stuck to the refrigerator via a magnet. He scanned the woman in the photo who was standing next to you. Her details popping up on his HUD.

Belucci, Claire

Born: 8/23/2018 || Student at Wayne State University

Criminal record: Drunk Driving

Connor watched as you hurried around the apartment, putting things away in a disgruntled manner.

“I swear, no matter how matter how many times I tell her to put things away, she doesn’t put it away.” You grumbled to yourself.

“Why don’t you buy an android?”

You laughed, “I’m broke, Connor. I can’t even afford a new coffee machine. Besides, having someone else clean up my stuff unsettles me.” You continued to clean around the apartment.

Connor noticed the speed at which you were cleaning. The living room and kitchen was clean within the matter of a few minutes. He was also fixed on the fact that you used the word ‘someone’ to refer to a housemaid android. As if the androids were people.

You saw that smile again on Connor. It made you feel happy that you made him smile, do something that might’ve been against what he was programmed for.

Connor noticed the time on the hanging clock in your living room. It was getting late.

“I must be getting back to Lt Anderson.” Connor stood there, waiting as you finished up on wiping the kitchen counter.

“Yeah, you don’t want Mr Grumpy Pants cursing and wondering where the hell you are.” You giggled to yourself, imagining a very irritated Hank Anderson standing outside the apartment complex, yelling to the sky ‘Fucking androiiiiidsss!!!’

Connor nodded at you, turning around he was about to leave when you called out to him. Your voice resonated in his ears, he had never heard his name spoken out so soft before.

He turned, wondering what you wanted to say.

“Thank you.” You smiled softly at him, your eyes gleaming with slight joy, and another emotion that he could not quite describe.

Connor smiled back with equal warmth, “I will see you tomorrow Y/N.” he nodded to you. He turned around, closing the door gently behind him.

Connor felt a sudden emptiness encompass him as he strayed further away from your apartment. All the way down to the lobby and out of the apartment complex; your face was on his mind, your voice resonated in his audio processors, your smile making his thirium heart pump faster. Was this the attraction humans felt towards each other? He had researched on certain kinds of attraction between humans for investigation purposes. They’re heart beats faster too, they start to feel hot and imagine that they’re embarrassing themselves every second.

Connor noted your heart beating faster whenever you spoke to him. But why would a human be attracted to an android? He found it absurd. Yes, maybe he did have the conventional attractive features according to human standards of beauty, but he was made of biocomponents, and you were of flesh.

You were perhaps nervous. After all, you could have almost died. Connor wondered if there was anything wrong with his biocomponents? Reporting this to Cyberlife would not prove efficient however, they would deactivate him at once. That would certainly be detrimental to his main investigation.

For the first time, Connor felt very confused with himself.

And it all started with that smile of yours.

Tag(s): @hungoverhellhound

270 notes · View notes

laschatzi · 7 years ago

Text

Privacy And Pancakes

Hello @whimsicallyenchantedrose here’s the very belated fic for your prompt “caught by the parents”. You sent it way before pancakes on the show happened, and it took me way too long, and then I didn’t know how to do it without copying it... anyway, here we go.

summary: You’d think Snow has learned not to use her spare key. Well, she hasn’t. And this time, she brought David.

word count: ~4,2k

rating: G and CP for chicken parm. Also B for bathtub

also on ff.net and ao3.

“That was quite the closure for our honeymoon,” Emma sighs as she descends the gangplank, Killian right on her heels.

“A bit of a storm,” he agrees and adds smoothly, “but I've weathered worse.”

“Showoff,” she huffs and stumbles for a second when she steps on the dock, having to adjust to being on firm ground again for the first time after a ten days' sailing trip. In was indeed their – slightly belated – honeymoon, and they're home half a day early, due to the storm that pushed them forward.

Killian grabs her elbow to steady her. “Admit it,” he chuckles in a low voice, “I'm a hell of a Captain.”

She can't help but lean into his touch when he uses her momentary unsteadiness as an excuse to press himself to her. “You are,” she concedes and turns her head to look at him. “I'll poof us right home if you're okay with it?”

He nods with a smile – as eager to get home as she is – and she transports them to their house in a whirl of magic. She brings them right outside their door and not directly inside, because she enjoys the ritual of coming home to their own place so much: walking up the stairs, unlocking the door and going inside, taking off their boots and lining them up on the mat behind the door. Normal things, like normal couples. They haven't had much time yet to truly enjoy their quiet domestic moments, so none of it is routine so far, and every day is a new chapter in the adventure of True Love.

“Go ahead,” she tells him and motions to the stairs, “I'll get us some cocoa to warm us up. I'll be with you in a minute.”

“I'll be waiting,” he replies and wiggles his eyebrows, accompanied by a grin that lets pleasurable warmth spread in her belly and promises her their honeymoon isn't over yet. She can't help but lick her lips and turns towards the kitchen while he sneaks up the hardwood stairs on his socked feet.

Emma makes quick work of heating up the milk and adding the cocoa; before topping it with whipped cream and cinnamon, she pours a healthy amount of rum into it from the bottle she keeps in one of the kitchen cabinets. She hums absentmindedly – something she never used to do – and when she notices, she smiles to herself and shakes her head a little. That's probably the most amazing thing: the joy brought to her simply by Killian's presence in their home. She doesn't even have to see him, the knowledge is already enough. In fact, she's noticed that whenever she's home alone and hears his key in the front door, her lips pull into a smile all by themselves.

For a moment, she's contemplating calling her parents and telling them they're already back, but then she decides against it. How foolish would that be, depriving herself of one more precious half day of no one knowing they're around, of having them to themselves. She risks a quick glance into the fridge and decides they'll probably have to order in, but that's something they can decide about later.

She's still smiling as she's hurrying up the stairs embarrassingly fast, but then again, she doesn't care. Her father was right: life's made up of moments, and she simply doesn't want to miss a single one of them – she's already missed enough. When she enters the bedroom, she finds it empty and frowns.

“Killian?” she calls and puts the two steaming mugs on her dressing table.

“Here, love,” comes the reply from the bathroom, and her smile widens. Joining Killian under the hot spray of the shower whenever she feels like it, that's one of the perks of living together she has come to appreciate a lot. If she can talk him into having a shower, but that's never a problem, really.

The butterflies in her belly hum excitedly as she opens the bathroom door only to break into a confused buzz when she immediately notices that the shower stall is empty. A second later she spots her pirate husband in their claw-footed bathtub, peeking at her over a heap of creamy white foam, his elbows casually resting on the edge. Before today, she's seen him only maybe once or twice in the bathtub, whereas he has developed a fierce passion for abundant showers. She recalls fondly how he used to call the shower rain bath when he still had problems getting his 21st Century vocabulary together.

In spite of his nonchalant stance, he's looking a bit sheepish right now, and Emma flashes him an amused grin. “What are you doing there?”

“Why, taking a bath, of course,” he replies, in what seems to be a slightly offended voice, “as I do all the time.”

She crosses her arms and tilts her head, narrowing her eyes. “No, you shower all the time,” she corrects him, “and it's not even that chilly outside. Why the bath?” She recalls that he took one some time ago, on one of the rare occasions he got a really bad cold, and she adds, “Are you sick or something?”

“Nonsense,” he waves her off, “I was just in the mood for a good, old-fashioned bath, that's all.” His tone is a little defensive now... almost too defensive.

Then she thinks back to the storm they've had to weather today – it has taken a physical toll on her, too, she can feel it in her aching muscles – , and a suspicion dawns on her. “You had to work really hard to get the ship safely home today,” she remarks casually.

“Naught I haven't done before,” he waves her off almost grumpily and runs his wet hand through his hair, trying to distract her, but she remains focused.

“I'm sure you have,” she nods with a cheeky grin, takes three steps forward and hunkers down in front of the tub, leaning her forearms on the edge. “Achy bones, old man?”

He raises his eyebrows in that ah-so-you-want-to-play?-manner. “Sore muscles,” he corrects pointedly, “and those have nothing to do with age. They're due to,” he runs his tongue along the inside of his teeth, “hard labor.”

She will never understand how he does it, create innuendos out of nothing, with innocent words twisted by his wicked voice, caressed by his sinful tongue and his devilish expression. If he aims at it, he can make the temperature in a room rise to scorching degrees only by talking about nautical techniques, she's witnessed it. She's felt it. Right now, she feels a pleasant shiver running down her spine and can't help but bite her smiling lip. “Hard labor, huh?” she echoes a little lamely, knowing she can leave it up to him to lead her through the dance of seduction this is undoubtedly turning into.

“Aye.” He tilts his head and leans forward, his nose almost touching hers as little clouds of steam rise from the tub when he moves. “Get in here and I'll show you some of it, Mrs. Jones.”

***

“Why don't we just invite them over for dinner?” David grumbles, his eyes firmly fixed on the road ahead as he drives his pickup towards the house of his daughter and son-in-law.

Snow sighs beside him. “David. Technically, they're still on their honeymoon. They might want their privacy.”

He grips the wheel a little harder. “What for?” he snaps. “They've been...” he wrinkles his nose in disgust, “private for ten days.”

Snow giggles, knowing exactly that any hint at Emma's and Killian's marital bliss is still a red rag to him, even if he's completely happy with their marriage. “I know you missed your mate,” she teases him, “but–”

“What?!”

She puts a soothing hand on David's arm. “We'll invite them over tomorrow, okay?”

“Whatever you say,” he mumbles.

They park their car right behind Emma's yellow bug, the fact that it's there not raising any suspicion. When they departed, David and Snow had taken them to the docks with their baggage, and when they'll get back, Emma can simply poof them home. David opens the passenger's door and takes the casserole his wife insisted on making for the travelers.

Snow uses the key Emma gave them for emergencies, and he hands her the casserole before going to take a quick look around the house and in the garden to see if everything's okay and the recent storm hasn't caused any damage. They aren't worried for Emma and Killian; they have complete faith in their son-in-law's sailing skills.

Snow takes the casserole into the kitchen to stow it away in the fridge, when she suddenly hears a faint noise. Stopping mid-move, she listens closely and frowns. Then there's the sound again, something she can't quite define, like a dull thud followed by a light tone, almost like... a voice? Her first thought is that some animal maybe snuck into the house, which would be the normal thing to suspect in such a situation... but then again, this is Storybrooke, home of magic and fairytale characters, and when has anything ever been normal here? She can't think of any danger lurking around these days, but to always be vigilant is something that has been ingrained in her very being during her bandit days when death could always be waiting behind the next tree. Carefully, she places the casserole on the kitchen counter, snatches a knife from the knife block and sneaks out of the kitchen and up the stairs without waiting for David who's obviously still in the garden.

Following the muffled noises, Snow tiptoes along the corridor and through the open door at its end, leading into the master bedroom. She quickly scans the room and finds it empty; the two mugs with cooled cocoa on the dressing table escape her attention. There are undefinable sounds again, definitely from behind the closed bathroom door, and now she hears what's clearly the sound of splashing water.

Without thinking further, Snow grasps the knife tightly in her right hand and reaches for the doorknob with her left. To take advantage of the momentum of surprise, she turns it very slowly, then throws the door open and bursts into the room.

“Who the hell is... oh.” She stands rooted to the spot, the words dying on her lips, when she sees Emma in the middle of the bathtub in what looks a bit like a weird position, peeking at her over a mountain of white foam, face bewildered, hands instinctively raised to defend herself. The floor in front of the tub is precariously wet where the soapy water has obviously been sloshed around.

“Mom?!” Emma gasps in disbelief, shock evident on her face, and in the next second another face emerges from the foam and blue eyes are staring at her, not less shocked. Although it isn't, Killian's hair looks raven black, wet and plastered to his head like that.

He's obviously at a loss for words, something that doesn't happen very often, and Snow processes within the blink of an eye what's been going on here. “Oh,” she repeats slowly and a little sheepishly, a dreadful feeling of déjà-vû settling in her belly.

Killian tries to keep the situation ridiculously civil and tilts his head in his usual greeting, as if she hadn't just walked in on him being naked in a bubble bath with her daughter, about to do – or already doing – God knows what. “Milady,” he murmurs, sounding a little short of breath, and a wet hand comes up to scratch behind his ear.

“Why are you here, Mom?” Emma sputters, and although she looks still mortified, the tension seems to dissolve the tiniest bit, and Snow waves her hand apologetically. “I... we were just...”

“We?” Emma echoes in an alarmed voice. “Is Dad–“

“Snow?” comes a smooth, slightly worried baritone from behind, “Where...”

Emma's eyes pop open even wider while her mother puts her hand over her mouth and makes an oops! face. Killian throws his head back and rolls his eyes with a groan, “Wonderful.”

Before Snow can pull back and close the bathroom door, David peeks around the corner. “There you are!” he comments, and a second later, when he's soaked up the scenery, his pale blue eyes are as wide and horrified as his daughter's.

“Dad,” she sighs in defeat and closes her eyes, sinking a little deeper and trying to disappear into the void, or at least into the foam.

“What's going on here?!” David blurts out, and Snow can barely suppress a giggle, guiltily appreciating the involuntary humor of the situation.

Killian has enough now, rubs his hand over his face wearily and mutters under his breath, “Apparently, not much.”

His remark wakes Emma from her paralysis. Her head snaps up, and even though she feels mortified and tries to avoid looking at her father, her voice is firm as she urges, “Would you mind?”

“Oh! Of course!” Snow nods eagerly and ushers David back by pushing at his chest with her shoulder. She doesn't even have to look at him to be able to guess the grim set of his jaw. He stands there like a rock, and she pushes a little harder, until he finally retreats. Feeling sorry for Emma, she tries to soothe her with a wave of her hand in the vague direction of the stairs. “We'll just...”

“We'll be with you in a minute,” Emma sighs, and Snow waves almost dismissively at her.

“No need to hurry!” she assures, and, already pulling the door close behind her, quickly adds over her shoulder, “Take all the time you need!”

“Mom!” Emma moans, “really?!” but the bathroom door is already shut.

Killian grins to himself, because he didn't fail to notice the only ever-so-slightly amused undertone in Snow's voice. Again, she wasn't able to hide her bandit streak, in spite of her royal origin. He could have sworn he saw a bit of devilish amusement lurking in the corners of her green eyes. There's a reason he always admired his mother-in-law from the start.

Slowly, Emma turns around to face him, her face scrunched like she's in pain – and she kind of is (part of him is, too, but that's a completely different pain). “This is awful,” she complains.

He tilts his head. “It could have been worse, love,” he comments almost nonchalantly, hoping to calm her nerves.

She stares at him in disbelief. “Worse?!” she hisses. “My parents just walked in on us while we were...” She interrupts herself and squeezes her eyes shut for a second. When she looks at him again, she shakes her head. “What could possibly have been worse?” she asks. A rhetorical question, but Killian has an answer, like most times.

“Well, they could have waited two minutes longer,” he replies dryly, his eyebrow twitching as he continues, “and walked in when things got really interesting.” That reminds him of the opportunity that just got lost, and his momentary amusement is dampened by his frustration.

Emma makes a gagging noise. “Oh please, just the thought makes me sick.” She shakes her head in disbelief that this has happened again, just worse this time, and sighs, “Let's get out.”

Killian tilts his head in regret. “So much potential wasted.”

She leans forward, sloshing a little more water on the floor, and presses a kiss on the freckle underneath his right earlobe. “Tuck it away for later,” she breathes, a promise to him (and to herself) in her husky voice.

He groans in complaint, “I'm not sure that's physically possible.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “You will survive, and so will your... potential.”

Ten minutes (and a rather cold shower) later they descend the stairs and head for the kitchen where they suppose Snow and David are waiting for them. Emma has calmed down a little, and even though she isn't looking forward to facing her parents and having the awkwardness bubble all up again, she's determined to get it over with as gracefully as possible and then just forget that this incident ever happened. She isn't so sure about her husband, though; Killian's penchant for sarcasm paired with her father's temperament could make for an explosive moment.

Before they enter the kitchen, she holds him back with her hand on his hook. “Are you okay?”

He lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Bloody fantastic.”

That doesn't really calm her nerves. “Don't be too hard on them,” she pleads.

Killian gives her a pointed look from under his raised eyebrows. “Your choice of words is not very helpful, Swan.”

He strides into the kitchen before she can reply anything, and with a nervous sigh and eye roll she follows. David and Snow who have been sitting at the kitchen table practically jump to their feet simultaneously, looking a little sheepishly – although, she notices with alarm, David looks almost more grumpy than sheepish.

Snow speaks up without further preliminaries. “Killian, Emma,” she wrings her hands and then raises them apologetically, “We're so sorry that this happened... again.”

David's face falls, and he turns to face his wife with wide eyes when he hears the word again.

A muscle in Killian's jaw ticks, and he tilts his head, deliberately keeping all annoyance out of his voice, and really, he has calmed down, for he knows there surely wasn't any bad intention behind his parents-in-law's barging in. “There wasn't any harm done,” he says generously, and Emma looks at him with a grateful, relieved smile.

The way David silently sways his head indicates that he hasn't yet decided if he's harmed for life or not; the sight of his daughter and her pirate husband naked in a bathtub anyway isn't something he ever wants to experience again, even if thankfully there wasn't much to see, really.

“We surely wouldn't have used the key if we'd known you were home,” Snow affirms and adds hastily, “I mean, of course, I didn't mean we'd use the keys to get into your house during your absence, unless it was an emergency...” She licks her lips a little nervously, and her eyes dart to and fro between Emma and Killian.

The latter raises his eyebrows. “I believe that's exactly what you did, Milady?” he replies, ironic amusement evident in his eyes when he revels in the former bandit's predicament (because it serves her bloody well), while Emma shoots him a suspicious glance.

“No!” Snow exclaims and, when his eyebrows rise even higher, adds with a sheepish head shake, “I mean, yes, but...” She stumbles over her own words and draws a deep breath. “Look,” she starts again when she seems to have recollected her wits, “we didn't expect you back before tonight. I thought you wouldn't be in the mood to cook or go out, so I brought you this.” She picks up the glass casserole dish with transparent lid she has deposited on the kitchen counter and places it in the middle of the table.

Emma is secretly touched by the homely gesture and smiles at her mother while Killian eyes the casserole suspiciously. “Lasagna?” he asks, a skeptical eyebrow ticking up.

“Chicken parm,” Snow replies in an almost defensive tone.

“That's really sweet of you, Mom,” Emma says while Killian continues to scrutinize the casserole pensively. “We came back earlier than we intended because we had a storm in our back pushing us forward.”

“Anyway,” David throws in a little stiffly, speaking for the first time since they got downstairs, “next time we'll make sure we knock before we use the key.” And, directed at Snow, “Let's leave them to their...” He lets his voice trail off while he waves his hand vaguely in their direction, crinkling his nose in barely veiled disgust. He just can't bring himself to say the word privacy.

“Where are you going?” Killian interrupts unexpectedly.

“Well, home?” David replies with a frown.

“Now, while I'd never dare to doubt this dish is delicious,” Killian drawls and motions to the casserole, “it's surely much too abundant for two people.”

Emma smiles to herself, pleasantly surprised, while her mother cocks her head and narrows her eyes. “What are you saying, Killian?”

“Well, I suggest,” he nods his head towards the basement door, “I'll fetch a bottle of Merlot, and you set the table for us? Always assuming your little lad is taken care of.”

“Henry's with him,” Snow confirms and throws a quick look at her daughter to see if she's okay with this, but her smile tells her she is.

“Then it's settled,” Killian declares and turns to David. “I think we still have some berries in the freezing box–”

“Freezer,” David corrects automatically.

“Whatever,” Killian waves him off nonchalantly. “Maybe you can whip up your famous pancakes for dessert, mate?”

That was a devious move, of course, but his grin is disarming, and really, David has no excuse for being grumpy in the slightest way, and he knows it. Killian's sincerely welcoming invitation was unexpected, his compliment an obvious signal that for him, the family peace is still intact, and David's the last one to keep things awkward when there's basically no reason to.

So he shrugs off his leather jacket. “Sure, I'd love to.”

In the end, it's a pleasant family dinner; Emma and Killian recount the adventures of their sailing trip, while David and Snow fill them in about the latest shenanigans that have been going on in Storybrooke during their absence (not that there have been any of a more serious kind). The atmosphere is relaxed and familial, and David registers with appreciation that, unlike Emma, Killian seems to have the appetite of a Romanian power lifter when it comes to pancakes.

Shortly after the dessert, they finish the last drop of wine, and Snow's eyes are especially bright when she murmurs something about privacy and pancakes on their way out.

Emma cleans up the kitchen with a flick of her wrist – normally, she refrains from that, but today she feels like she can't be bothered with washing dishes, and she feels the heaviness of the day settle in her limbs now. With her arm wrapped around Killian's waist, they climb the stairs.

“That was sweet of you,” she remarks, “to ask my parents to stay for dinner.”

Killian shrugs. “They meant no harm. And besides... how could we not?” He opens the bedroom door and lets her enter with a little tilt of his head, always the gentleman. “I mean, your mother made chicken parm for me,” he adds.

Emma turns around on her heel and crosses her arms. “For you?” she asks skeptically. “Isn't that a bit presumptuous?”

“It's not,” he replies in a determined tone and clicks the door shut. “Chicken parm is my favorite dish of hers,” he points out, “and she knows it.”

“Oh?” She frowns. “I'm not sure if I should be touched or slightly annoyed that my mom makes your favorite dish, plus Dad and his pancakes.” She raises a teasing eyebrow at him. “They deserted to you with flying colors.”

“As you should be well aware of, love,” he tells her smoothly, “I tend to have that effect on people.”

She laughs and shakes her head, while he purses his lips into a smile and starts to unbutton his shirt. “You know what's the best thing about going on an adventure?” he asks after a short pause.

“What's that?”

“Coming home to people who missed you.” He shrugs off his shirt and tilts his head in an almost casual gesture. “I never knew the feeling.” Huffing a little laugh, he quickly adds, “Getting almost copped by your parents is a small price to pay.”

Emma who was just about to pull her t-shirt over her head lets her hands sink and scrutinizes him closely. In spite of his best effort to keep his voice nonchalant, the melancholy in his eyes hasn't escaped her, and once more she realizes how much of kindred spirits they really are. “Yeah, feels good to be missed, right?” she asks softly and steps into his personal space, putting both hands to his bare chest. “It's just a pity that we didn't get to enjoy that... relaxing bath.” She looks up at him from underneath her eyelashes.

“Ah, well,” he replies and rests his hand and hook against her waist, “I guess it will have to wait until next time.”

“Mhm. okay.” She nods and pulls her lower lip between her teeth as if she was contemplating something. “But what about your sore muscles... old man?”

He cocks his head. “They're fine, love, just fine.” His eyebrows rise high when he fixes his eyes on hers, the blue darkening. “And I believe that makes it twice today that you called me old man.”

Emma has to bite her lip to stop herself from grinning too broadly. “And that in spite of all your... potential. My bad.” Her eyes are glittering with mischief. “What are you gonna do about it?” she challenges.

“Well...” Killian sways his head and pretends to ponder her question, but then in a quick move dives down, wraps his arms around her still jeans-clad thighs and throws her over his shoulder, making her gasp in surprise. He announces, “I'll make you pay for it.” Emma squeals with delight and laughter as he dumps her on the bed and pins her down on the mattress with the warm weight of his body, a devilish spark in his eyes as he adds, “Twice.”

#cs ff #cs fluff #cs #captain swan #captain swan ff #privacy and pancakes #my ff

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