#because they actually lived amongst the people for a while each time to vet a better grasp at how to figure out the Unkillable Fucks part

[mor-and-more]

A sudden Original Universe post for no fucking reason amidst the general FF madness but

I was reading a post full of anger at Fantasy Geography That Doesn't Make Sense, and ucychxyvyc

It's definitely a problem that's present in the worlds of the Sphere

Because Creators are responsible for making the worlds

And not all of them are good at it

And only one or two of those had the good sense to concentrate on living creatures only

But for those who went ahead with creating world's, there's a reason why their worlds fucken DIE after the Creators are spent, the Keepers of Chaos/Darkness dissipate and the flow of divine power making these shitshows appear normal, ceases

This is how the Khrum home world (where they were dropped by their Only Good At Creatures And Knew It Creator) is now half hot and sandy desert, half glacial desert with a belt of mountains in the middle, where only feral dragons could survive, out of all the original population. This poor world got tidal locked to its own fucken star, and there are so many magic devices involved in making it appear that Stuahr has a fucken night. Everything just went to shit the moment equilibrium got out of wack with the Creator's disappearance

Yes they are there, yes they are the reason big complicated shit exists, yes they are in a constant cycle of birth-active creation-death and return to the pool of power. But sometimes they are just BAD at it

The need to create is purely instinctual

As well as the knowledge of what components are needed for the worlds' smooth operation - there's zero need for conscious effort

And those who can't actually make worlds for shit, just slap something together, smother it in Pretend You Are Normal duct tape equivalent, and gleefully get straight to what they care about - Creature Time!

And then there are the opposites: Creator who care deeply about the WORLDS' wellbeing. They are the ones caring about the tectonics, planet's axis angle and rotation speed, optimal distances to stars and satellites, the way geography works and how the world's natural resources sustain themselves... And as a result, even after the Creator's death, after a short period of natural disasters caused by unbalanced powers, the natural equilibrium gets restored and the worlds go on existing and providing for their inhabitants. And it's one of such worlds where El's people were dropped! Because unlike the Survival Machines that are the Khrum, the Sky People are regular ass elves who are soft and squishy in nature and require comfortable environment

[lilislegacy]

I actually have my own little head cannons about percy and annabeth's own family, and I'm gonna share them for no reason other than being annoying <3

Percy and Annabeth have lived in unstable homes throughout their childhood; I truly believe that they got married in their early twenties after college

Annabeth hyphenated her last name! She becomes "Annabeth Chase-Jackson" because she loves the Jacksons and is a part of their family while also keeping her last name because she's THE Annabeth chase and it's iconic

I think that they always wanted kids together, but it was always a thought for the future, even when they got married and were busy with their careers

So yes, their first kid was a total surprise, but a very happy one

They were the first of the hoo group to have a kid

Their first kid's a boy (ik unpopular opinion), with blonde hair and green eyes.

I always imagined they'd named their kids something both unique and greek, with maybe a middle name after a lost hero? Giving the first name of a lost hero sounds painful, and also defeats the whole purpose of Sally naming Percy after the only greek hero with a happy ending. An example I like is Amycus Charlie Jackson. idk tho, something more normal makes sense too.

Amycus would probably be a stereotypical angel first child tbh

Because they had their first kid so early on, I think their second would be a couple years later, I think around 4.

They'd have a girl next, Daphne Zoe Jackson, with Percy's raven hair and Annabeth's gray eyes. She'd be a little more troublesome lol, but in a loving way!

I honestly think 2 kids are good enough but my heart says they'd have 3. He'd be a surprise baby, and on the younger end of the hoo group's kids (if not the youngest). I haven't thought of much characterization for him yet, but he'd get Sally's blue eyes for sure.

And they live a great life in New York, I'm sorry but they aren't moving to New Rome! Especially Percy, he's a New Yorker through and through

Annabeth works from home from time to time as an architect, mostly to spend more time with her kids, especially when they're babies.

Percy has a pretty chill job doing something in marine biology or marine vet, so he's there for the kids plenty too

Sally babysits the few times both of them are busy

Ya that's their perfect domestic life in my head hehehe >:)

thanks for the ask @littlesillyfilly!

i love all of these!!! super cute! i shall go through each one

1. same! some people think they don’t get married, but i hate the reasons why most people think that. as demigods, percy and annabeth didn’t grow up in a stable family setting. i think they would want that stability, and to do normal stereotypical couple things, because they crave as much normalcy as they can get.

2. another vote for the hyphenated name! that seems to be people’s favorite option

3. yes absolutely. they always have wanted kids. it’s not even a question in my mind

4. i agree, for some reason i’ve always had the hc that their first kid is either a total shock, or it takes a really really long time for them get pregnant. it’s one or the other 😂

5. completed agreed. honestly? i dont even know if many of their friends would have kids. i mean, frank and hazel, together or not, probably would i think, albeit much later than percy and annabeth. but i don’t know if i see anyone else having kids. i think its not super common amongst demigods, especially greek ones

6. absolutely 1000% agreed. i have always thought and said that their first is a boy with curly blonde hair and sea green eyes.

7. agreed! i like them doing a mix of things when it comes to names. and this is so funny because i always have liked the name charlie (after beckendorf) for one of their kids! it’s in my percabeth baby names list LOL. so i think i like their second son being named charlie, and then i have a girl name for their daughter that i love.

8. oh absolutely. first babies seem to always be so precious and sweet and easy. that’s how they get you. then the second one comes and all hell breaks loose

9. i agree that their second kid would come a few years later. they would need a hot minute to adjust. having kids as a demigod would be hard i think, but once they get the hang of it, they want more!

10. i absolutely agree that their next kid has percy’s black hair and annabeth’s grey eyes! personally, i always imagined it being another boy though. he is their charlie in my mind.

11. yeah, i think they would originally plan on 2 kids, but end up having three (if not 4🤭). and in my mind, number 3 is their girl! i’ve always imagined her with wavy blonde hair and blue eyes with a bit of green in them.

12. you are team percabeth living in new york? ok ok i like it. idk personally i feel like they would start out in new rome, for safety reasons. also having a community of demigod friends and family would probably be very comforting for them. but i definitely see them ending up in new york again! percy is absolutely a new yorker through and through!

13. aww annabeth being able to work sometimes at home would be cute. i can see that!

14. can i just say im so glad people are getting on board with percy becoming an aquatic/marine vet?? i’ve always been so alone in that thought, so seeing other people like it and agree with it makes me so happy!! he’d be sooo good at it! but yes, it’s a chill job so he can be around for the kids a lot.

15. sally and paul would love babysitting. 100%

i loved all of these so much and agree with nearly everything!! thank you for these!!

[bokettochild]

Day 4 - Trust Fall

Went with the prompt 'taken hostage' for this one, and I'm quite pleased. I might follow it up from another prompt on the list, but I quite like how it ended.

Suffer :)

There are many people who hate the Hero of Warriors.

It was a well-known fact, and something that had haunted him since the ends of the war, but he couldn’t exactly blame the folks who did. After all, it was for lust of the hero that Cia had killed so many, and there were families all across Hyrule who had lost loved ones because the hero had refused the affections of one lonely, corrupted woman.

Zelda had tried to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but that changed nothing; people had still died because of Cia’s lust, and still more had died because of his own over-confidence. So, when he walked the streets of Castletown and the people who wanted to thank him faded to the background as a single soul would stand and spit insults loaded with venom more poisonous than a deku baba, he would take their words and let them speak, never once challenging them, even when his men would protest and beg for permission to reprimand his attacker. Zelda had pleaded for him to stop, claiming that he lowered the moral of the army by not carrying himself strongly and with honor, but how could he rob someone of their voice when he’d already robbed them of everything else?

There was one upside to it all though; when Warriors met Legend, there was nothing the younger hero could say that could truly hurt him. Legend would huff and complain and tease and jab, but his insults were a gentle nudge in comparison to the hearty shoves into boiling lava that he’d seen from his own people, and he welcomed the verbal sparring with the other hero. It was nice to be able to speak back without having guilt rise in his chest, and he enjoyed getting to tease and bother the veteran hero in return.

In that manner, an unlikely friendship had formed between a hero who hated soldiers and a soldier who hated being a hero.

He was close to all of the others of course; Sky, Wild and himself would spend hours discussing their worlds and the systems of knights and training and the like. Time and Wind, his boys and the pride of his heart, would mess around with him and it warmed him body and soul to offer them advice or comfort after a long day (and having the two of them cuddle up when they thought no one was looking was an extra warm bonus on multiple fronts).

Four was- well, there was no words for the relationship he shared with the smithy. It was a relationship of exchanged looks and mutual silence. One of two brothers who knew each other as well as if they’d actually been born to the same mother, and who could read the others actions as if they were reading their thoughts. It was them flopping over each other and Four climbing onto his shoulders to reach things, it was him throwing the smithy bodily up towards high places and leaning on the top of his head when he was drained or feeling playful.

Wild and Hyrule were his baby brothers, the chaotic ones who he was helping to bring up right, the boys who needed a guiding hand and a firm voice to push them and guide them, but who reveled in warm hugs and teasing or encouraging words.

And Twilight? Twilight was his sparring partner, his closest brother and the one he’d probably end up socking in the face one day. There was enough said on that front. Legend very nearly made the same rank, except...

Except Legend was, truth be told, as much a kid as the others and despite their verbal battles, he didn’t think he could actually ever hit the kid for real, no matter how often he cuffed the pink head or pushed the short vet over in jest, he didn’t think he could ever cause the younger hero harm. Yeah, yeah, so maybe it was the big brother and father in him that said he wouldn’t live with himself if he hurt the kid, but it was also the soldier and captain that saw a reflection of every cocky recruit he’d ever trained and a certain mask wearing child in the vet’s painfully rare smiles and much more common snarky comments.

And he just couldn’t bring himself to hurt a kid in the first place.

No matter how much of an ass they were being.

“Seriously though, how have you not died?” Legend was scoffing, but the vet’s arms were wrapped tight around himself as the kid rolled his eyes. “I mean, one bokoblin? How is that the first time an enemy has ever grabbed your scarf?”

Warriors would have laughed it off with a tease about the vet’s lack of leg protection, but he could see the worry shining in violet hues and feel the tender bruising that wrapped around his own neck. He hardly remembered the last battle, adrenalin and the concussion had seen to that, but legend had been weirdly snappish with him since, yet simultaneously clingy in a way that was painfully uncharacteristic of their salty veteran. “Most monsters are just dumb.” He’d shrugged off at last, but Legend hardly looked contented, picking at his tunic and scowling at his boots as if there was something more he wanted to complain about or say, but he lacked the words to say it.

Oh goddesses, the vet really was like Mask, wasn’t he? All bashful worry and fussing disguised as insults and annoyance, but underneath just a kid who desperately needed the assurance that the people around him weren’t seconds away from death.

“I’ll be fine, you grouchy little bumblebee.” He scoffed, tugging at one of the vet’s long ears, just as he did with Time when the now older hero was getting to wrapped up in his head. “We’re in my world anyway and the monsters here are dumber than rocks.” Usually he’d just say ‘dumb as rocks’ but they’d met a talus in Wild’s Hyrule and he couldn’t honestly think of that phrase the same way since.

“Black blood makes them smarter.” Legend huffed, batting his hands away with a scowl, nose wrinkling up in an almost adorable manner as he sidestepped a swipe at his hair. “And I just fixed that thing for you, I don’t want to have to do that again.”

So much like Time had been, did the vet see it? Just like his middle kid and it was messing with his brain in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. How upset would Sky be if he gathered Legend in amongst his boys as well? The Skyloftian wasn’t particularly possessive of his descendants and he might not mind sharing responsibility over the vet. He’d have to ask, but only once he was sure Legend was out of earshot, the kid was barely tolerant of Sky coddling him, and even then, usually only when he was sleepy or scared shitless.

“Are you listening, Captain? I’m not mending that scarf again this week, you ass.” Legend flicked his ears, irritation at being ignored coloring his face with a scowl that quickly faded into surprise as a blue heap of fabric settled over his head and shoulders. Of course, the surprise disappeared too once Legend’s face was covered with the tail end of the scarf, and he had to grab the back of the vet’s tunic to stop him from tumbling to the ground as he tripped over the rocky path.

“What the heck, Wars?!” The teen squeaked, fumbling with the fabric as the captain let a laugh rumble up through his chest into his throat.

“You keep fussing about the scarf, yeah? Well,” He reached out to tug the loose end down, chest thrumming with warmth as the pout on Legend’s face beneath the scarf and a fierce blush. “So how about you keep it safe for me, just for a bit.” He shifted the fabric again, arranging it to lay better around the veteran’s thin shoulders. “You can give it back after the next battle, yeah? Then you’ll know it’s not damaged.”

The pink-haired hero rolled his eyes at that comment, but Wars didn’t miss how the kid nestled in amidst the blue fabric with a soft hum.

Oh yeah, despite all the teasing, it was clear Legend liked the scarf as much as his other boys. He hoped Sun and Sky didn’t mind sharing too much, because there was no going back now.

“Dramatic arse.” Legend huffed, but despite the vet tugging the scarf up over his nose and mouth he still saw the grin the lay beneath.

Somewhere behind him, he could hear Time and Wind exchanging whispers while Twilight grumbled something exceedingly rude and fond all at once.

“Should we split up to find supplies then?” Sky asked, pointedly ignoring Twilight’s comment as he addressed the group as a whole, earning a thoughtful nod from Time.

“Probably best.” The man hummed out. “Groups of three, Hyrule and Wind, you’re with the vet, Four and Sky, you’re with Wars, Cub, Pup, I want you two with me, if something happens I want a responsible adult on every team, as well as someone who knows this Castletown well.”

Agreement thrummed over them as they split up, Wind catching his party members by their hands and pulling them off towards the tailor and apothecary shops so Legend could restock on thread and fabric and Hyrule could gather more healing supplies. Time’s group turned the opposite way, heading off into the main market square so Wild could restock on food stuffs and a new haversack for the traveler as Hyrule’s had had a hole worn in the corner that even Four doubted he could fix. Warriors himself led his team towards the fletchers and the forge, with the intent of buying more arrows and getting Four permission to repair a few of their weapons.

The chatter of the town was cheerier than usual, and to his surprise, not a single person spoke to him beyond the occasional inquiry about directions or an apology or insult after bumping into them. It was like he was invisible, or very nearly, and even those who made a point of calling out thanks or insults only waved cheerily to him as if he was just another passing soldier.

At the smithy, the Master Smithy, Gaepak, blinked in surprise for a good minute when Wars had approached to ask for use of the workroom. “Gen’ral? Is ‘at yew?”

He cocked a brow at the question. ���Yes? Is there a problem?”

Gaepak boomed a nervous laugh, motioning to his own short neck with a faint flush on his face as his ears twitched lightly. “’Ard to tell you apart from yer men wit’out that scaaf of yers.” The man apologized, and the apprentice at the blacksmith’s side nodded nervously.

He couldn’t help back slip into a disarming smile (although he had to fight not to slip into their heavy accent as well when he spoke). “Quite alright, gentlemen. I’ve just let it out to one of-”

“Yer boys.” the smith nodded knowingly, earning a snigger from their own short-statured smithy and a light chuckle from Sky.

Warriors flushed slightly. Really, the people of Castletown knew him too well. “Yes, one of my boys.”

“An’ a moighty fine father ye are.” Gaepak drawled with a grin. “Use the forge ta yer ‘eart’s content.” The smith added, moving back to his own workstation with a cheery wink. “Jist moind ye clean it up when ya done.”

Four had shouted something of a reassurance before moving to the offered work station with shining hazel eyes and fingers already flitting over the available tools to familiarize himself with them. In the meantime, Sky had shot him a knowing smile, eyes twinkling as the captain had flushed softly.

Four was deep into his work and the two of them had already finished a lengthily talk and a trip to the fletchers when Wind and Hyrule had burst in, heavy breaths heaving through the two and a healthy flush over two sets of rounded cheeks as wild eyes had turned to the two adults.

“Wind, you can’t bust into a forge! Four shouted over the clang of metal. “It’s dang-”

“Legend was kidnapped.” Wind blurted out, voice strained and barely holding onto the collected and controlled report method Warriors had drilled into all of his soldiers during the war.   Four’s hammer froze mid-air as the three had whipped around to face the two younger heroes, both knights stiffening instinctively as all laughter left their faces.

“What happened.” Warriors demanded, stepping forwards, jaw set and eyes hard as he met the sailor’s wavering gaze.

The aura of peace faded in instants, and soldier met the eyes of soldier as Wind snapped a neat salute. Unnecessary, yes, but trained into the kid by the other soldiers and probably a comforting sort of habit to revert to in the moment (Warriors felt the same about standing at parade rest as he listened to the kid’s report). “We were just entering the apothecary when a couple of folks approached Legend outside the door. He waved us inside to do our business while they talked, and Hyrule and I did as he asked. We gathered the needed supplies- that doesn’t matter though- the point is, when we were at the counter ringing up-”

“There was shouting outside!” Hyrule interrupted, fingering the strap of his faded satchel. “We thought it was just Legend being Legend, you know how he is but-”

“But then there was something of a scuffle and some bangin-”

“- and when we finished at the counter, because the man wouldn’t hurry up and refused to let us leave ‘till we’d been rung up-”

“Legend was gone!” Wind exploded, eyes shining with near panic as they met his own.

“Where were you exactly?” Wars demanded, mind already flitting across the list of people who were likely to have taken the vet. There weren’t many people the kid would have interacted with here, especially not alone, and saving the soldiers he’d accidentally embarrassed a couple of switches back (kid needed to wear some pants if he didn’t want to mistook for a girl) there wasn’t anyone he could really think of that would have cause to try anything. Sure, Legend’s winning personality might earn him a blow to the face from some of the rowdier townsfolk, but at worst he’d be left on the street on in an alley with a bruised face and a fractured rib or two, not taken away entirely.

As he considered, Four was already tidying up behind him only to have Gaepak wave them off with a worried look. “Moi boys will see to this ‘ere mess, don’t botha. Yew got a kid missin’ you go fetch ‘im, goodness knows Gen’ral that yew don’t need to be suff’rin’ that again.”

It was a bitter reminder, but he’d nodded his thanks all the same and grabbed ahold of Wind’s hand as he led the charge back into the street, Hyrule and Sky tagging along as Four made arrangements to come back later for the still cooling weapons before scampering out after them.

Searching Castletown’s streets would take hours, but after they’d run into one of his men, Bav, he’d filled the soldier in on the situation, and hardly had the words ‘my kid’ been out of his mouth before the other was nodding and agreeing to get the rest of the squadron to search the town. They’d found the others not long after, and the trio had dropped everything (even Wild’s slate for a hot second) to come rushing after them, their now two groups weaving in and out of alleyways and streets.

“Your wife?” A painfully familiar farm-wife had tutted. “First your poor daughter and now your poor wife. I’m sorry, luv, but I haven’t seen a thing.” Wind had crooked a smile at the groan Warriors had barely stifled as he led their group away, Sky and Hyrule both staring at the duo in confusion as they pressed further into the crowd.

Continued asking had brought up nothing, and after hours of trotting through the streets in a growing panic, Sky at his side and Hyrule nearly fluttering along with them, they’d finally been pulled aside by one of the soldiers and made to sit down in a guard-station long enough to drink some water and be caught up on the soldiers’ findings.

“Nothing yet, General Link, but we’ll keep looking. Until then, you should take a rest-” He’d moved to protest only to be cut off by a frown from one of his mates. “You’ll be run ragged by the time we hear word, and if the scamps intend harm of any sort, you’ll be in no state to help.”

He’d had to agree after that, but it hadn’t stopped him pacing while Sky held the other two close, rocking them softly and humming soft reassurances to the two smaller heroes that he’d bundled in his cape. The other four joined shortly after, Time demanding that Bav tell him what was happening and Twilight bundling over to grab Hyrule from Sky and curl up around him, the rancher’s nose buried in Hyrule’s curls as Four had settled between him and Sky, the smithies callused hands gently rubbing both their arms as he murmured soft reassurances to the others.

It was Wild that pulled him down to rest, flinty blue eyes sparking dangerously as the kid pulled him down to the ground and thrust something edible into his hands. Vaguely, he processed eating it, but his mind was too lost in spinning to take note if it was hot or cold or even what it tasted like.

When word finally came, it was with Bav’s face drawn and the entire guard having had to leave the post in wake of the nervous energy that flowed out from the exhausted heroes.

“Well?” He’d snapped to his feet, jostling Wild on accident as he did so and making the kid nearly toppled over with his sudden movement.

“An ultimatum, General.” Bav replied, clipped and carefully emotionless, even if there was pain in his eyes. “It’s addressed to General Impa, but-”

The note was snatched from waiting fingers before the other soldier had a chance to finish, and he was already breaking the seal as the man stepped back with a shake of his head and a murmured ‘poor man’.

The text that stared up at him stank, copper assaulting his senses as looping crimson script stared mockingly up at him. “General Impa,” The note read. “We have in our possession your branded puppet; the ‘hero’ of the war. We write to you now with a warning; should Hyrule and her queen not repay the debt owed to those fallen and forgotten, he will not be the first to pay the price.

“Repay that which is due, and release the prisoners who you hold unjustly under the claim of treachery. If this is done, your ‘hero’ will meet a kinder fate, and we may even allow you access to the corpse.”

The note was left unsigned, save a spattering of blood over where the signature ought to have been.

“A threat.” He choked, furrowing his brow and shaking his head. “It’s only a threat.”

“I wish, sir.” Bav’s eyes were downcast. “But they sent this as well.” A bundle, already unwrapped by the soldiers was offered to him. “But based on your description, that kid- I'm sorry, Sir.”

Trembling fingers tore aside the stained brown paper as he stared at the contents within.

A blood-soaked blue scarf stared back up at him.

[archangeldraws]

Coming Home

A King Ghidorah fanfiction

Doraut AU

This is the story of how three little Dorats find their forever home and the bond they shared with a special human child

(Eva is my OC)

Soft light shines through the curtains and into the dim room. The sun is just starting to rise, but the owner of the room is still in bed, covered by a soft blanket, her chest slowly rising and falling.

She doesn't even notice when the door quietly opens and two figures step inside, approaching the small bed. One of the intruders opens the curtains, letting the warm glow of the sunshine in. The man smiles as his gaze falls upon the sleeping figure of his little daughter, still nestled into her pastel colored blanket, happily dreaming. His wife sits down at the foot of the bed, gently rubbing her daughter's side to wake her from her slumber. “Wake up Eva. Good morning darling.” They wait, carefully nudging the girl and smiling as she opens her eyes, yawns and stretches her little arms. “Happy birthday, darling!” They cheer, holding up a breakfast muffing with a candle.

Eva's face lights up, a big grin forming on her chubby cheeks as her parents sing her the Birthday song and she gets to blow out the candle. “Today is a very special day, sweetheart. You're 5 years old now!” Her father smiles. “Yes, indeed. You're a big girl now”, her mother agrees. “And we got something very special planned for you.” Eva jumps out of bed, already excited. “What is it? What is it??” “You'll see soon enough. But first, let's have breakfast.”

Quickly, the family makes it to the kitchen, where Eva's mother had already prepared breakfast. Not just a simple breakfast, but all the things Eva likes. Breakfast muffins, waffles with whipped cream and fresh strawberries, onigiri filled with sweet red bean filling and fresh veggies in a side bowl. After such a filling breakfast, her father pulls her aside. “Now, for your first gift, I need you to get dressed. Because we're going to go somewhere special.” “Where are we going, daddy?” “That's a surprise. Now quickly, get dressed and we'll go!”

Only 10 minutes later, the two of them were in the car and making their way through the city of Tokyo. It almost seems like forever, as Eva watched the huge buildings pass her by. Once they stopped, her father tells her to close her eyes and wraps a bandana around her eyes, as he carries her to their destination. “Alright, you can look now.” Clumsily, Eva pulls off the bandana and looks around the place, as her eyes grow big and light up. “Dorats!!” she exclaims excitedly. There they stood, in front of a big window, separating them from a group of Dorats in their enclosure. There were quite a few Dorat cubs, playing with each other and flapping around. “Yes Eva, Dorats. Your mother and I have been thinking long and hard about this. And since you've been such a good girl this year, we decided that you can have your own Dorat. Choose whichever one you like.” She smiles as a woman, who had been standing with them opens a door, leading her into the play room of the Dorats. “Take your time. You can play with them a little if you want, get to know them.” She smiles as Eva carefully steps into the play area of the pen, looking at all the little Dorat cubs. They watch her as they mew and trill, sniffing the air before approaching. Like every child, they're happy to see a new playmate. “I'm sure you'll find the right partner amongst them. Dorats know which human would be best for them. Let them approach you.”, the breeder explains.

There were so many of them. And they were all just so cute! Dorats, as Eva can see, come in different colors. There were brown ones, ginger, white, some had spots, some had stripes. Even a tri-colored one was there. And golden ones too! Eva laughs as she gets to pet them all and play with them. So adorable. And so small. Like a puppy. One of the golden ones inches closer, curious who this new human is. They all try to communicate with her, not yet able to build a strong mental link. All Eva can pick up are their emotions and single words. “Happy! Play! Pet me!” The little golden one was sniffing her hand, licking her fingers. She giggles and reaches out, running her hand trough it's fluffy head and back fur. The Dorat purrs and trills happily, asking for more scratches. “It seems this one really likes you.” Eva's father and the breeder watch her play and cuddle the little cub. “I like him too!” “Do you want this one?” “Yes, daddy!” She grins, picking the cub up and hugging it. It licks her face, purring and tail wagging. Then it looks back, grunting. It was calling. Eva follows it's gaze, spotting two other golden cubs. They were watching her, one slowly approaching her, the other sitting on a cat tree, looking down on her. “Come here little guy!” She stretches out her hand, letting the second Dorat sniff her hand. The one in her arm jumps down, circling the other golden one and grooming it, urging it closer to the girl. This cub seems weary of her, not daring to come much closer. She wonders if this cub was scared of her? So she thinks.... And then puts her hands into her pockets, pulling out a fist of crumbled fish crackers, holding them out for the Dorats. “Do you want some? They are my favorites!” The cubs sniff her hand again before licking the crumbs off her fingertips. Now the second Dorat seems to have lost it's weariness of her and purrs happily as well. The third one, still watching, spreads it's wings and glides down towards her. This cub seems to be good at flying already. It gives her the side eye, eyeing her up and down before it too, eats some of the crackers she offered them. Eva giggles, their little tongues tickling her and she pets the third Dorat, surprising it. But it doesn't shy away as they look each other in the eyes. She reaches out mentally, asking for a connection. Dorats, at this age, are still developing their psychic abilities, so complex thoughts aren't possible yet. And building up and holding a telepathic link with a human wasn't easy, as their capabilities weren't as strong as a Dorat's. Still, she tries to get in contact with the cub, letting it know she means to harm.

The breeder and Eva's father watch, as the girl communicates with three Dorats at once. “This is interesting.”, the woman says. “What is?” “These cubs there. They're brothers. They always stick together, but usually, when people come, only one of them tries to interact with humans. The other two aren't interested in contact, normally. So seeing them approach your daughter like this and not running off is special. I was a little worried that they might not get adopted if that keeps up.” “I see. But if that one is so friendly, how come it's still here?” “There were some that wanted to take him, but whenever I tried to give him over he would fly away and huddle up with the other two. And then no one could touch them again and all three would hiss and bite... So, if you want that one, you would have to take all three of them.” “All three?! But we only wanted one!” “Then you have to choose another one. I'm sorry, but these are a package deal. They do not want to be separated.” Eva's father ponders, looking back at his child, playing with the cubs. “Honey, come over here please. I want to ask you something.”, he beckons her over. She leaves the rest of her crackers with the cubs and skips over to her father.

“Yes, daddy?” “Sweetheart... Have you chosen a Dorat yet?” “Hmmm....” she thinks for a while. “I like these!” she points to the golden siblings. “Honey... I'm sorry, but you can only have one. Your mother and I agreed to one Dorat, but three? That's a lot of work! I don't know if we can handle three. Why don't you pick another one?” “But daddy!”. Eva looks at him, then back at the cubs. “I like them. We talked! And they're so cute!” “I know Eva, but-...” “Sir, if I may?” The woman looks at him. “I know it's not my place to say this, but... A bond between a human and a Dorat like this... This is special. As you know, while Dorats can link with anyone, the bonds they share with that one human are much stronger. And while we like to believe we choose the Dorat we want, it's actually the other way around. They, choose their human.” She smiles, but leaves out the part that, if they don't get adopted soon, the chance of finding a home for them would be slim to none, if they don't bond with a human. And then... She could still keep them for the breeding program to father a new generation, but if their cubs are like that as well, they don't have a chance. And Dorats that don't bond aren't wanted and don't live very long...

“Please daddy! They will be sad if we only take one!” “How do you know that, Eva?” “I could feel it. They want to stay together!”

At home, Eva's mother had decorated the living room and was getting everything ready for the family, once their relatives arrive for the party. She smiles as she heard the front door open and her daughter hastily taking off her shoes to storm inside. “So, how did it go? Did you find a friend?” “Yes mommy, thank you! This is the best day ever!” She smiles as her husband carries a transport box into the room. “Alright, this is your new home!” He opens the door and, waiting for a minute, a little golden Dorat steps out, looking around and sniffing the air. And then another one... And a third.... “What-.... What is this? Three Dorats! Dear! We agreed on one Dorat!” “I'm sorry! But you should have seen it! I just couldn't say no to her. And look, she's so happy!” His wife sighs, shaking her head. “Can we even take care of three Dorats? It'll be too much work. And the costs for food, the vet bills, the toys!” “I know...” he grins, shrinking back a little. Eva doesn't care. She is now a happy little owner of her own Dorats and already busy showing them around and talking about everything all the while. Her parents watch, following them as the cubs looks around and sniff everything, following their daughter. “So.... Do you have names for them yet?”, her mother asks, hoping a bit that she doesn't and isn't as attached as she thinks she is. Maybe they can give two back? “Hmmm... Not yet.” The girl thinks... and thinks.... Before pulling out the three collars they had picked up on their way from a pet shop and all the other things they need. She takes the blue collar, putting it on the quiet cub. “Your name is now..... Ichi! Ok? You're Ichi!” she grins and the cub, now dubbed Ichi looks at her, seemingly nodding and accepting his name. Then, she puts a red collar on the second one. “And you.... You are Ni!” the now named Ni pulls at the collar, not used to having something around his neck and eventually gives up once he realized it won't come off and just huffs. The last collar, the green one, goes on the third. And it seems pretty happy with it. “And your name is San!”

Behind her, her parents laugh. Their daughter, in her creativity, just named them One, Two and Three! The rest of the day seems to go by in a blur. Eva doesn't even notice when her aunts and uncles and cousins arrive and spends most of the time getting to know her new friends. And at the end of the day, her parents tuck her into bed, happy but exhausted. And next to the child, three little Dorats snore away in the same bed.

They are now home.

(If you enjoyed this little story, please give me some feedback. I don’t usually write, so please bear with me ^^)

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Safety In Numbers (SpicyHoneyMustard, lemon)

Summary:  Red knows how to play the game. The only problem is, not everyone gets out unscathed.

Tags: SpicyHoneyMustard, Fontcest, Fellcest, Sibling Incest, Threesome, Background Kustard, Established Relationship, Possessive Behavior, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, LEMONY GOODNESS!!, Unhealthy Relationship, Unnamed Ship

Sequel to:

Showtime

Secret Garden

A Judicious Amount of Effort

Musically Inclined

Lest You Be Judged

Solo Act 

Appealing To Better Judgment

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Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

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Refuge.

That was what Toriel named the protected Monster settlement that rose up at the base of the mountain, for all the Monsters who either couldn’t or wouldn’t live in Ebott.

Red supposed if there was nothing else, they could all thank her for sparing them from whatever dumb shit Ass-gore would’ve called it, like New New Home.

Despite all the treaties and negotiations, there were plenty of Monsters still living there. Some found that once they set their feet on the grass, they were about as far away from the mountain as they cared to get. Some were plain afraid to live out amongst the Humans. And a fair few simply weren’t allowed to leave, their little laminated ID cards didn’t grant them clearance through the front gate. Monsters with LV, Monsters with an appearance that might be considered disturbing. Any Monster likely to hit a ten on the Human freak-o-meter wasn’t allowed out not yet, anyway. Made sense, really. If they scared the shit out of the Humies by going too fast, they’d be lucky if they only ended up chased back beneath the mountain and not used as potting soil.

Try telling that to the dumbfucks, though. Red kept an ear hole close to the ground for any incoming gossip and from what was coming down the line it looked like the Assholes of Asgore were using it as a recruiting point. Red suspected that they didn’t have only have the interest of one or two disgruntled folks.

Anyone with half a lick of sense should see through their bullshit, but if Red was supposed to count on any of the dipshits he knew underground having common sense, he might as well shove a bone through his own soul now and spare anyone else the trouble of dusting him.

Their real goal was to start the bloody war Asgore promised them all and if they managed it, well, it was gonna be a pretty damn short one. Magic was handy dandy, all right, but the Humans kinda outnumbered them a million to one. Hell, while they’d been down below twiddling their thumbs, the Humans figured out their own version of magic, one that was a fuckton more explosive than anything Monsters had on tap. If Red was a betting man, and he was, thanks, he knew which odds he was putting down on.

Red looked out the tinted window of the car driving him through the newly paved streets of Refuge, watching the scenery pass by. Much as he hated being chauffeured around, these days he didn’t have a whole lot of choice. Back when he was training in the guard, there was still some opportunity to skulk around. Strip away his uniform and its delta rune crest, and he was only another Monster with a shitty attitude wandering into Grillby’s for a drink.

Being Chosen took away any chance he had of wandering around unnoticed. Even if Red slipped away from Rus, his face was too well-known now and probably rated a solid six on the Humies freak-o-meter.

If he thought the chucklefucks throwing themselves at Rus’s feet begging for blessings were annoying, it was a damn sight worse when they tried that shit on him. As if he had any say in the way the Universe trundled on down the road. He wasn’t the one second in the queue to chat with the Angel, thanks, and none of the Divine had seen fit to give him their direct line.

Shame Edge didn’t let him fuck with them; a few broken fingers and a bruise or two might give them all a little peace, but eh, his bro was a spoilsport that way. His own fault for leaving the kid on his own years ago while he skulked off to join the guard, instead of sticking around to teach him what’s what. Edge’s code of morals didn’t line up so much with Red’s anymore and wasn’t that a bitch.

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and shook one out, ignoring the sour look the driver gave him in the rearview mirror. They didn’t say a peep, though, kept whatever words they wanted to say locked up tight behind their tusks. Being Chosen did have a few perks other than risking his life and getting to spend plenty of quality time communing with Rus’s pussy.

Red lit the cigarette with a harsh rasp of his lighter, took a long drag of smoke and breathed it out as he leaned his skull against the cool window glass, watching the blurred landscape. The streets were lined with cheaply made carbon-copy houses, but there wasn’t a whole lotta room to complain about that. The first few months most of ‘em spent huddled in patched-up tents given to them by the reluctant Human government, miserable in the spring rain and mud that tried to suck off your shoes with every step. Far as Red was concerned, all Monsters should be damned grateful for a house to call their own and if someone wanted their place shaped like a fucking fish, they were gonna have to wait their turn.

Yeah, lots of Monsters struggled when they hit sunshine, trying to wrap their minds around everything that happened. Red wasn’t one of them. He’d been Chosen only days after his boots hit the ground, but he’d spent some time out in the mudholes, searching out threats against his freshly appointed Judge. He’d learned a few useful tricks before putting on a uniform and they sure did come in handy from time to time.

These days, Red didn’t get out as much anymore. Maybe if Rus had more Chosen than only him and Edge, he could’ve kept up with it, but it hadn’t worked out that way. The kid needed him, all of him, and that was that.

Inconvenient, yeah, but probably just as well. Kept him from having to hold the lid down on his boiling need to shiv anyone who fucking dared touch what was his. He played nice enough when it came to all the unity mumbo jumbo bullshit, the Judge was an avatar of the Angel, the Judge belonged to the people, yeah, sure, he’d toe the party line.

But when it came to laying hands on his boy there was only one other Monster with the right. He was as much Red’s as Rus was and that’d be true until the day Red shivered to dust.

So, yeah, he couldn’t do the footwork himself anymore, eh, sucks to suck. Instead, he was forced to rely on other Monsters to keep him rolling in that sweet, sweet info. He’d vetted all of them himself, checked into every detail of their lives all the way back to the day they dropped from their mama’s cooch. Every single one of them was loyal as fuck to the Angel and as willing to spy on each other as they were anyone else, and that right there helped weed out most of the trouble. Wasn’t a perfect method, but it usually worked pretty well and let Red keep his fingers hooked into a few pies. That was, whenever he could pull 'em out of Rus's desserts.

Right now, all his people were working overtime, trying to dig up some dirt on how those fuckers managed to get into the cafeteria to take a pot shot at Rus. When they finally got something concrete, Red planned to deal with it personally, and if Rus ended up giving him a Judging look over it, he didn’t much give a shit. He was Chosen for the Judge, to protect them in every way possible and if the Angel was having second thoughts about it, She could stop by and deal with it herself.

None of that had shit to do with what he was up to today.

The house his car pulled up in front of was as unremarkable as the rest, a cookie-cutter copy with different curtains and a doormat. The driveway was empty but that didn’t mean shit. He already knew they were home, had to be, because they never damn well left.

“stay here,” Red ordered the driver. He nodded silently, sodium-yellow eyes meeting Red’s in the rear-view mirror. Red got out, hopping down to the ground from the high seat with a silent grumble. He took a last drag of his cigarette and flicked the butt into the gutter. Straightening his uniform shirt was an automatic to him these days as taking his next breath. Didn’t make Red hate the fucking thing any less and he forced his hands back down as he trudged up the walkway.

He didn’t knock on the front door. Instead, he went around to the back of the house where he already knew what he would find. A turn of the corner an expansive garden was spread out before him, filled with neat rows of greenery already creeping their way out of the rich dirt.

There was a garden in every backyard in Refuge, every one of ‘em planted at the Queen’s command. Part of her plan was making sure that eventually Monsters would be as self-sufficient as possible. Couldn’t depend on the Humies to keep them in clover forever and sure they had some tech deals getting hammered out, but if there was one truth all Monsters knew, it was that G wasn’t food.

True, it wasn’t a perfect plan; some of those mandatory gardens were pretty fucking sad, brown straggly plants that might cough up a tomato or two before they kacked it. This one, though, was pristine. Red didn’t care about growing shit that couldn’t be rolled up into a blunt and knew even less about it, but even he could see the way all the plants were evenly spaced and that there wasn’t a single weed growing anywhere. Not a stray piece of grass or a single thistle dared peek out of the soil in this garden.

A Monster was kneeling in one of the plots, dressed in overalls and a funny little straw hat, a wagon next to him heaped with tools and paper bags, a small pile weeds who ignored the warning signs.

Red didn’t actually know Blue real well. When Rus talked about Blue, it was always with a wealth of fondness in his soft voice, often whispering his memories in the darkness of their bedroom whenever insomnia haunted him.

Whatever sweetness Rus remember in Blue, it was long since eroded away, torn out of him, and whether it was being Chosen, his past Judgement, or Asgore who did it didn’t much matter to the outcome.

He was one of Sans’s early Chosen, back before Red even joined the guard and the few times he’d seen Blue were when he came to assemblies to watch the trainees before they were instated as full guards. Red remembered seeing him those days; dressed to the nines in his uniform, boots polished until a person could see their reflection in them from ten steps away, every crease straight, every button fastened. Seen him a few times from a distance, too, with Sans, always a nice, respectful two steps behind him and looking as if butter wouldn’t melt between his knees. Couldn’t even picture the bastard ever getting bent over a sofa getting fucked by a desperate Judge.

(Sans was more likely to flop back and take a fucking, way back when, all sly smiles and slick pussy, knees spread wide in invitation. Whatever becoming the Judge did to him must’ve given his preferences a good topsy-turvy, ‘cause gossip in the barracks warned all the guards to be prepared for spending plenty of time on their knees)

They’d talked a few more times since then and not a single one of those chats endeared Blue to Red any more than the first.

These days Blue was pretty fucking hard to look at. His skull looked like it’d been busted apart and put back together by hands that didn’t care if the puzzle pieces didn’t fit right, parts of the bone still discolored with char. The empty left sleeve of his shirt was pinned up neatly to his shoulder and the cane leaning against his little wagon wasn’t for show. He’d survived the coup, but not by much, the only one of Sans’s chosen who didn’t die along with him, and there was a memory that Red didn’t like to take out and play with too often.

His team came in far too late, after it was all over but the vacuuming. Breaking through the barred door and walking into the leftovers of a massacre, a mass Judging, no one who’d been in the throne room came out unscathed. Blue the only one still breathing right and Sans…yeah.

Probably a wonder Blue hadn’t offed himself yet.

All that aside, it was a shame that the stick in his pelvis didn’t get yanked out along with his arm. The eye light that lit his less damaged socket was blazing sharp, and he was struggling to his feet the second Red started walking across the yard, snatching up his cane and brandishing it like a sword.

“What are you doing out here?” Blue demanded loudly. He stormed out of his garden, tracking mud across the carefully shorn grass. “You should be with Rus, he needs to be protected!”

“well, hello to you, too,” Red drawled. He stuck his hands in his pockets carelessly, rocking on his heels. “kid is fine, edge is with him.”

Blue’s dismissive scoff raked across Red’s nerves like the tines of a fork on a cheese grater. “Oh, certainly, with Edge, that’s surely impenetrable protection! Edge wasn’t even a full guard when he was Chosen!”

"might be so, but edge is the one in charge these days. you think i want out there handling that shit?" Either Blue wasn’t keeping up with the times or he was just being a prick. Either was possible, but the fact of the matter was that in public, Edge was the boss. His word was law when it came to Rus and it had a lotta spillover onto Toriel. To insinuate that he wasn’t capable of protecting the Judge was an insult about the level of hocking a juicy loogie into Red’s face and if it was anyone else, Red wouldn’t be fussed about getting the dust out of his shoelaces before he headed home. Blue caught the barest hint of a break, for Rus, but he was already fucking pushing it. Still, Red kept his voice carelessly easy, “you sound kinda worried about your bro.”

Blue shed the glove on his remaining hand and pulled a tidy bandanna out of his back pocket, mopping at the sheen of sweat on his shattered skull. “I heard about the attack, of course. Everyone has.”

“yeah?” Red raised a brow bone, reluctantly interested. “hear any useful gossip about it?”

“If I had, you would already know about it,” Blue retorted. He sighed and gestured for Red to follow him, making his staggering way up to the back porch. It was surrounded by flowering bushes, heady perfume overwhelmingly filling the air while bees flee drunkenly from blossom to blossom. Sitting on a little patio table was a carafe of lemonade, lemon slices floating amongst the ice.

Blue poured two large glasses, pushing one over to Red. He took a long drink, the tartness blotting out the nauseatingly thick reek of the flowers.

Blue took a sip from his glass, ice cubes rattling, and he dabbed away the thin stream that ran out of his cracked jaw with the bandanna. “I don’t hear most of the gossip, I’m afraid, not anymore. I’m a failed guard, the neighbors don’t exactly stop by for visits and chats.”

“You didn’t fail at shit,” Red retorted sharply. Bullshit was all that was, all because Blue managed to not die.

Red wasn’t fond of Blue, but fuck, he’d had nine toes in the dustpan when they managed to tow him back into the land of the living. He’d fucking well tried and if anyone wanted to toss in their opinion on whether they thought Blue didn’t try hard enough, they were welcome to give Red’s fat one a good ol’ suck.

Blue only let out a humorless laugh. Once, his eye lights had been a starry yellow-blue, showcasing his traits. Patience and justice, pretty good draw for a Chosen companion to the Judge. The one eye light he still had was pale and colorless now, reminiscent of Rus’s, only Blue’s was dull, doughy-blank, showing none of Rus’s vibrancy. Hard to believe anymore that these two were even brothers.

Curious that Rus’s Choosing gave him a pair of brothers with a matching trait of Determination. Made a person wonder exactly why, but neither the Angel nor the Judge were telling.

The glass in Blue’s hand rattled against his trembling fingers, the bones still yellowed and scorched. “Tell that to Sans.”

“tell him yourself,” Red lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. The cunning little device in his pocket would’ve warned Red if there was any active listening devices around, but Red hadn’t survived as long as he had without harsh lessons in watching his mouth, “i told you before, i can get you up to our rooms, no one’d ever know.”

Blue’s mouth twisted disgustedly. The movement from his jaw pulled the gaping crack over his dead socket grotesquely wider as the first real emotion winking in and out of his eye light in a flash. "And I told you, there is a reason that former Chosen aren’t allowed near the new Judge,” Blue slammed down his glass, a wave of lemonade slopping over his damaged fingers. “There's no telling how he'd react if he saw me! If he recalled I was once Chosen, he might--ugh!” Blue hunched over with a shudder of revulsion, “It's bad enough that you and your brother are servicing him."

“you questioning the judge’s choice?” Red said coolly, just this side of waspish. He didn't really give a good shit what Blue thought of it, especially considering Red’s reasons for being here to begin with, but he did wonder what Blue would think if he knew Sans popped out for a recent visit. Whispered a coupla sweet nothings while he jammed Rus’s prick East bejesus up Red’s cunt. The memory made a slick of wetness form at Red’s crotch and he shoved the memory back. Not the time and he stuffed that little reminiscence back where the one of his brother’s cock in his mouth lived, the knowledge of how it felt, soft and slick with his own come and Rus’s, carefully tucked into the furthest corner of his mind.

That tart question struck the dartboard in a bullseye. Blue faltered like he’d been jabbed right in the tailbone, sputtering out, “No, of course not, but—" He recovered, straightening his spine and that cool soldier’s expression dropped over his face, the stick in his ass jammed straight. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is the damage it could cause my brother to see me, so you can stop asking, the answer is no, it’ll always be no.”

“whatever you say,” Red shrugged, ‘cause he didn’t care, not really. Except for how desperately Rus wanted to see his fucking brother, just once, one last time. The brother he’d missed out saying goodbye to between Blue’s unconsciousness and him being Chosen. Any other Judge at least got a chance to say fare thee well and the fact that Rus lost the opportunity was just one more bar in Rus’s prison, caged in, body and soul.

Blue’s answer was about what he’d expected though, and that was fine. Another useless attempt to get him to the Embassy wasn’t Red’s real reason for coming.

“not really here about you anyway, pipsqueak,” Red said, letting the words fall lightly. “i heard papyrus is staying here with you these days.”

That little tidbit of gossip came through the vine in the wee hours last night, Red checking his phone with Rus sleeping peacefully beside him, Edge on the far side. He’d spent the rest of the night lying awake, cold fury thrumming in his soul and that was the real reason Red came all the fucking way out here for a little face to face chat. “shacking up with sans’s little brother, huh, that sure must be something.”

Papyrus was only a kid when Sans was chosen as Judge, still in striped shirts and missing his two front teeth. Biggest difference between him and Edge was the Crown gave a stipend to the families of Chosen to make up for the loss of income. Papyrus probably never had a hungry day in his life and certainly not after Sans put on the robes. His bro never had to worry if the shit wage he was earning in the guard was gonna be enough to keep a roof over his kid brother’s head or keep him in clothes when he started growing like a weed. Sans didn’t have to set aside enough for a bribe to make sure that whatever G he made actually found its way to his brother and didn’t end up lining the pocket of some greedy deliveryman.

None of that was Papyrus’s fault and sucking on a silver teat didn’t make him miss his brother any less. Kid tried the join the guard a few times and always washed out, only got to try more than once because of who his brother was. Red wondered morbidly what Blue’s stuck up, sanctimonious ass would’ve thought if Papyrus had gotten into the guard and Sans Chose him.

Now it was looking like that stick in Blue’s ass didn’t keep him from inviting Papyrus between the sheets.

Whatever color was in Blue’s skull leached away, the bone dulling to chalky white, and taking with it any hope that Blue wasn’t using that kid as a dim replacement. His gaze skittered away, hunted, skipping around the yard, looking for fuck knew what. For Sans to step out of the void with shrieking admonishments, for a stray bolt of lightning to finally strike him down and send Blue after those who went before him. There was nothing, only Red standing here holding half a glass of decent lemonade in the sunshine so many died to get.

There was nowhere else for that look to go, no escape, and finally Blue reluctantly looked at Red again. He said, raw and stiffly, “There’s nothing against the code about that.”

“no, there ain’t,” Red agreed, softly. He only met Blue’s solitary eye light evenly. Red couldn’t see into Blue’s soul but he fucking well hoped Blue felt his sins crawling their leisurely way up his spine.

Red set his lemonade down carefully before he gave into the urge to toss it glass and all right into Blue’s broken face. He turned away and started back around the house, barely off the patio when Blue called his name.

“Red?” Blue struggled for words finally asked, plaintively. “Is he happy?”

Almost Red wanted to tell Blue that they kept Rus well fucked. That his little bro looked good stuffed with cock on both ends, that he sucked dick with the expertise of a thousand G whore.

But he wasn’t about to talk about Rus like that, not even to get one up on his shitheel brother. “i like to think so. he’s a real sweetheart.”

Red made no mention of the almost desperate adoration that rose up in his soul that came from only thinking about Rus. That wasn’t for sharing time.

“Yes,” Blue said. His hoarse voice was low, subdued, “he always was. take good care of him?”

Better than you could, Red did not say. “want me to give him a message or anything?”

Blue’s melancholy faded and he shook his head immediately, "Judges are forbidden from any contact by a former Chosen or family, and I’m both. You know this.” He sounded like he was reading straight from the guard manual.

If Rus hadn’t been Chosen, he’d be here right now taking care of his piece of shit brother. Standing back helplessly while Blue fucked the old Judge’s kid brother and pretended he was someone else, and Red was a selfish enough bastard to be glad he wasn’t. “you’re right, i do. so is there?”

Blue only lifted his chin and it was a damn good thing he wasn’t a Judge, because his single eye light was loaded with resentful judgement. “No. There’s nothing I could tell him that he wouldn’t already know.”

Yeah, just as well Rus was Chosen. Blue didn’t fucking deserve to have his brother here with him.

Wasn’t a fucking thing Red could do about Papyrus; he was out of stripes and kid was gonna have to make his own bad decisions and what was Red gonna do about it anyway? Take him back home like a stray puppy he found on the streets? Tell him that he didn’t have to settle for Sans’s leftovers, remind him that it wasn’t Sans’s idea to leave any of them? That he didn’t need to live here, the two of them burying themselves into a dusty tomb that Sans wasn’t even in.

He wondered what Papyrus was getting out of it. If he was closing his sockets and played his own version of pretend.

He wondered why he even cared. Why had he come out here to Refuge, really?

“tell paps i said hi,” Red said finally, “ain’t nothing against that in the code, either.”

“I will.”

Red turned on his heel and headed back to the car before he said something he wouldn’t regret, but would hurt Rus if he ever heard about it. He lit a cigarette before they’d even pulled away from the curb and by the time they got back to the Embassy, he’d smoked his way through the entire pack.

~~*~~

When Red got back to their quarters, he was too fucking tired for the early hour of the day and faintly nauseous from too much nicotine. He closed the door carefully behind him, resetting all the alarms. His joints ached like all his frustrations seeped out of his soul and settled into them.

In their living area, Rus and Edge were sitting on opposite sofas, playing some kind of stupid card game. Rus was choosing to stay home for a few days, barring a Judgement, and that was the only reason Red felt comfortable enough to leave the two of them alone, anyway.

Kid didn’t want to endanger anyone else, perfectly reasonable response to what happened, but they couldn’t hide away in here forever. Rus needed fresh air and sunshine. He needed his meditation gardens, not the weedy looking herbs Edge grew on the narrow windowsill for his cooking.

That meant Red needed to go over the intel his contacts were sending along. Search for reoccurring names, patterns, anything that’d lead him to the end of this snake so he could chop off the head.

Needed to, yeah, but it’d have to wait. Right now, his head wasn’t exactly in the game. He’d left too much of his mind behind in Refuge, turning that chat over and over, trying to find a chink, a solution that didn’t exist.

Probably better to get settled so he didn’t miss a trick, yeah, that was the ticket. All Red wanted right now was some manufactured forgetfulness and he wanted to get started making it right now.

“welcome back,” Rus called cheerily. He only glanced at Red, pale eye lights filled with warm greeting, before turning back to the cards in his hand with a little frown.

That gave Red a chance to discreetly run a mental inventory of his honey. Rus was looking good today. There was some color back into his bones, his pristine skull glossy with health. His magic was leveling out to its normal slower upward trickle. Hell, at a glance he was damn right perky, and that made it hard not to appreciate how fucking pretty he was. His long robes were discarded in favor of a pair of soft, loose pants and a t-shirt to match, bare feet tucked under his knees and a hint of his clavicles peeking tantalizingly over the neckline, begging for a mouth to give ‘em a taste.

Just seeing Rus like that leached some of the aching tension out of Red’s soul, trading it out for relief.

It was tempting to step up right then, but Red hung back, waiting for them to finish their game. When Rus wasn't giving Judgments, what he was mostly was bored. There was only so much meditating and bonding with the spirits or whatever the shit that anyone could do. Protecting the Judge was the focus of their job, the most important thing, but it wasn’t the only one. The other part of their bit was plain taking care of Rus and that included entertainment.

Sex might be an easy way to knock out two birds with one dick, but it couldn’t be the only thing.

Their living room was lined with shelves filled to the brim with books and blu-rays, video game consoles and board games, anything to help Rus pass the day and hopefully forget that the sunshine his brother nearly died to get for their people couldn’t really be his.

“What were you off doing anyway?” Rus asked absently. His attention was mostly on the game, sockets narrowed, and across from him, Edge only waited patiently, the slightest hint of a smirk curving his mouth. Rus didn’t seem too worried about Red taking a field trip, it did happen from time to time.

His brother was probably less than pleased that Red took off without a word as to where he was going other than a hastily scrawled note of ‘back soon’, but eh, Red could take that medicine when he had to.

There was a split-second choice to be made here, whether to tell Rus the truth of where he’d gone or not. With only a couple words, Red could make sure Rus never wanted to see his brother again…and taint every past memory he clung to in the process. Almost did it anyway; Red was an old hand at cleaning up all kinds of messes, he could handle one more. The only thing that held his tongue was thinking of Rus’s grief, the choking tears streaming down his pretty face, and his memory of his brother would end up just one more thing he’d lost.

Only this time it would be Red doing the taking.

Fuck it, if the Angel wanted Rus to know about it, She could do the dirty work.

“nothing important, darlin’,” Red said smoothly, and that was true enough.

Rus didn’t notice anything amiss, but Edge gave him a narrow, suspicious look. Eh, he’d catch his bro up on things soon enough. Now wasn’t the time. For once, Edge wasn’t buttoned from his clavicles to his toes in his uniform, instead dressed in soft pants and a sweatshirt that was a hair too tight, probably from Rus’s side of the closet. Probably meant they’d spent some cuddle time on the sofa before starting up on the game or at least Red hoped so. He might watch the cameras later. Just to make sure.

His wandering thoughts were coagulating, coming back together in his skull and Red was already wondering what kind of distraction he could come up with to tug their attention from the cards when he heard it. Faintly, the familiar, hollow sound of a constant buzzing against bone.

Well, now, this was getting interesting, now wasn’t it.

“care to fill me in on the rules to this game?” Red drawled. He leaned against the sofa arm and treated himself to a more in-depth perusal of them both. Nothing unusual leapt out at him, not yet.

“it’s pretty simple,” Rus said. His cards were fanned out messily in his slim hands, a disorderly array of suits. “whoever loses a round has to wear a vibrator in the next round. winner gets to put the vibrator wherever they want.”

Huh. Rus sounded a little more disgruntled than that called for. Kid was an ace at counting cards, it was a little surprising he’d even persuaded Edge to play. “sounds fun.”

“i thought so too,” Rus said, shooting Edge a sulky look. “only edge doesn’t even work up a sweat, no matter where i put it. i’ve tried it behind his sternum, his sacrum, pubic arch. i'm about ready to toss it into his eye socket and let it rattle around in his skull for a while, see if that shakes him up.”

Edge laid the queen of spades on top of the card pile and said placidly, “My apologies for my self-control being so boring.”

Boring, huh. Red looked his brother up and down calculatingly. The little details were there if a person knew how to look. Eye lights barely hazed, the slightest hitch to his too-even breathing. He was a little worked up, but Rus wasn't lying, he still looked like an ice cube wouldn't melt in his shorts.

Meanwhile, Rus was pouting unhappily, his pretty smile turned upside down, and that just couldn’t be allowed, now could it. An idea perked up in the back of Red’s mind, ripe with possibilities, and Rus would go for it no question. Whether Edge would was dependent on how happy he wanted to make Rus, which usually fell under ‘a lot’. The odds were good, and Red never shied from a good bet.

Red leaned in and settled a wandering hand on Rus’s knee, sliding lightly up his inner thigh and snagging his attention. "how about we play another kind of game, honey."

Rus immediately looked wary, but Red wasn't offended. Couldn't blame him; Rus'd played Red’s games before, good on him for taking the lesson to heart.

"what game?" Rus asked suspiciously.

"Doesn’t anyone want to know if I want to play a new game?" Edge asked no one in particular. They ignored him.

Red rose up on his toes and laid a soft kiss on Rus’s mouth, lingering a little too long over that sweetness before he reluctantly drew back. “lemme get changed first then we'll talk. you go on ahead and finish that round.”

He strolled off, whistling cheerfully. The day was already looking up.

In their shared bedroom Red stripped out of his uniform, carelessly dropping it to the floor for Edge to bitch over later. A pair of well-worn shorts and a t-shirt was a decent match to the wardrobe choices of two brats out there, and made for easier access and cleanup. Ready Freddy, except for one thing.

Red knelt down and dug out a small box hidden underneath their bed, grabbed a little something that might come in handy right soon. He tucked it into his pocket, shoving it deep enough not to arouse (heh) suspicions.

Edge was picking up the cards when Red came back out, tucking them back into the box. The previously unseen vibrator was sitting innocently on the coffee table as if Red couldn’t see the faint traces of crimson that’d been hastily wiped away.

Red crawled up on the sofa next to Rus and held out an arm, pretended that his soul didn’t give a solid throb as Rus immediately snuggled in against him happily. The kid rolled over on his back, his skull in Red’s lap, looking up at him with bright curiosity in those pale eye lights as he said, “c’mon, red, tell me!”

That pout was back and Red took a moment to lean down and quickly kiss it away, allowing only a brief flicker of their tongues together before he pulled back. He stroked the smooth bone of Rus’s forehead lightly, soothingly, “all right, honey love, here’s the game. you got five minutes to get edge to come, however you can. if you don’t get it done in the allotted time, i get five minutes to make him come. winner gets the prize.”

As he’d guessed, Rus’s eye lights immediately blew wide, briefly tinging golden in an abrupt surge of desire. It faded quick enough, Rus struggling to hold it back, but the cat was out of the bag now, wasn’t it.

Across the way, Edge barely stifled a sharp, startled sound, but if he had an opinion about Red’s little suggestion, he kept it to himself.

The rest of Red’s words seemed to have wormed their way past that first thoughtless rush and Rus was frowning again, “that's not fair. if i lose, he'll already be all worked up for you.”

Red leaned down and gave him a light kiss in reward for figuring that out. “ah, but see, difference is, i don't get to touch him. no bone on bone for me, sweetheart, i promise.”

Mollified, Rus settled back. “what do i get if i win?”

“you get to ask a favor of me, anything at all.”

Poor kid was gonna get whiplash the way he kept flipflopping from interest to disappointment. “i can already do that.”

“yeah, but you don’t.” Red pointed out, “you never do. this one you’d earn fair and square, might make it easier if you’re spending your own dime rather than the inheritance.”

Rus nodded slowly, understanding coupled with intrigue lighting his face, “and if you win?”

“same deal, i get to ask one thing from you. anything i want.” That win or lose Rus was gonna enjoy himself thoroughly was heavily implied.

“anything,” Rus murmured, rolling the word around in his mouth, giving it a good taste, but before he could decide if he liked the flavor, another bargainer stepped up to the table.

“I have a question,” Edge said, coolly. Red glanced at his brother meaningfully, met crimson eye lights that were a match his own. Edge was sitting on the opposite sofa, his arms crossed over his chest. The line of his jaw was tense, teeth gritted together, but that wasn’t distaste or reluctance on his face, not one fucking bit. He waited to see if his bro would beg off or outright refuse. They’d teeter-tottered around into a little touchy feely a long time ago, didn’t matter so long as it helped get Rus off. They'd been ramping it up lately, but this was a horse of a different color, deliberate red on red without a buffer of honeyed gold between them.

He was counting on his brother not to disappoint.

“what’s that, bro?” Red asked.

Edge’s crimson tongue flicked out over his teeth, an almost imperceptible hint at nervousness. "What do I get if neither of you get me to come?"

Oh yeah, that was his bro.

"ah, that’s easy,” Red said lightly, “favor is all yours, little brother. from both of us."

Red looked back down at Rus and he could about see the gears turning in his mind. He was a smart kid, even smarter when you took into account all the Judges in creation playing house in the back of his mind. He was trying to work out what kind of monkey's paw bullshit Red wove into the bargain, but looked like he wasn't finding anything cause all he said was, decisively, "deal.”

“Deal,” Edge agreed softly. He stood and turned on his heel, walking out. Came back only a minute later with a couple towels over one arm, fucking neat freak. He spread them out on the sofa then shed his clothes, folding each piece neatly as he stripped it off. Edge wasn’t anywhere near as pretty as Rus, his bones were thicker with none of the delicacy that was laced into their lover’s, pocked with scars from the years before he was in the guard and the training alike. Strong bone that could take a beating and had, bearing the marks of a survivor and warm pride flowed over Red like syrup, like the honey he so often named Rus.

Edge’s joints were already lit with mana, either from the earlier vibrator or the recent chat, and a cloud of it filled his pelvic cradle, a thunderstorm of brimming desire. He settled back on the sofa, long legs stretched out, and said, mockingly sweet, “Ready when you are.”

A hasty search found lube where it was thoughtful stowed under one of the cushions and Rus drizzled it over his slim hands, rubbing them together until the slender bones were glossy and slick. “summon your cock first, give me something to work with.”

Edge tutted in disappointment, shaking his head, “Asking for a concession already?”

“everyone knows you don’t start a game without setting up the pieces first,” Rus countered, waggling his slippery fingers teasingly.

“he’s got you there, bro,” Red chuckled, amusement mingled with a peculiar sort of relief. All the nastiness of the day was flowing away, dirty water down the drain, simply by being around these two sassy shits. “don’t you think he deserves a little head start?”

Nice to see that Red wasn’t the only one who weakened under a pair of wide, pleading eye lights. Edge softened like sweet butter left on the stovetop. The swirl of his magic solidified, his cock formed between his femurs, already heavy and hard, a formidable piece of equipment that Edge usually put to good use. Rus reached out with dripping hands, only waiting when Red called out.

“hold up.” Red pulled out his phone, setting the timer, “okay, rus…go!”

Red settled back into the throw pillows to watch the show, one hand slithering down the front of his shorts, hard phalanges idle against his pubic crest where his magic was settling humidly. Wasn’t any part of the bet against him coming and Red was all ready to hit the concession stand.

Rus didn’t waste any time, both hands already curled around Edge’s shaft, spreading the slippery lube until the scarlet ectoflesh was glistening wetly. The rhythmic sound was wickedly obscene, startlingly loud over Rus’s satisfied hum.

There was no reaction at all from Edge, his eye lights barely flickered as Rus stroked him. Even when Rus frowned determinedly, kneeling between Edge’s spread legs, tongue already eagerly extended. He lapped softly at the little jewel of scarlet fluid beading at the head of Edge’s cock before sucking the length of it down with a messy slurp.

“that’s it. little brother,” Red called, smirking as Edge only hissed out a breath, keeping stubbornly still, “don’t make it too easy for him.”

It was a helluva show, to put it mildly, worth it even if by some random chance Red lost the game. Rus was pulling out all the stops, using every dirty, wicked trick he’d been taught between them about giving head and a couple made up on the spot. The long, flexible length of his tongue wrapped around the shaft, a thumb and forefinger surrounding the base, following the tight rhythm of Rus’s head. Mouth sloppy wet, golden spit sliding down his chin and wetting his hand as Rus sucked Edge in deep, his formed throat bobbing as he swallowed, formed muscles massaging the hard length. His free hand wandered wherever it could reach, seeking out places he knew were sensitive. Rus had mapped out their bodies with those shy, nimble fingers of his too many times to count, committing their every twitch to memory, and now he was tweaking cartilage, fondling up the length of Edge’s spine, teasing at his floating ribs.

All the little details put together a fine picture; Rus’s ass in the air, his clothed pelvis wriggling enticingly as he worked. Muffled whimpers were spilling into the air from him around the cock filling his mouth, garbled pleading, and Edge sure as fuck wasn’t unaffected now.

Sweat decorated his skull like glittery sequins as Edge breathed hard through his nasal cavity, his tongue caught between his jagged teeth hard enough that a thin rill of crimson was spilling down his chin. His knees jerked slightly with each bob of Rus’s head, bones clattering softly. A raw groan escaped Edge, hinting at desperation at the exact moment the timer buzzed, shifting to a pained gasp as Rus pulled off with slow deliberation, giving the head a last teasing suck.

Rus sighed in mock disappointment, wiping at his mouth fruitlessly with the back of his hand and only succeeding in smearing the mingled gold and crimson fluids. “damn it, guess i lost.”

“guess you did,” Red slid down to the floor with less grace than he would’ve liked, knees wobbly and his own arousal settled heavily into his pelvis. “have a seat, honey, watch the master at work.”

Mischief flittered over Rus’s face, far too quick for anything but a warning. He caught hold of the front of Red’s shirt and yanked him in, forcing his sex-tainted tongue down Red’s throat. The taste was one he knew all too well, honey sweetness mellowed with spice, rich and addictive.

A last delicate swipe of his tongue and Rus sashayed away, snagging one of the pillows to curl around while he settled in for his turn to watch.

Red licked the back of his teeth, catching the last of that tang before it faded completely. Yeah, Rus was gonna pay for that.

Or maybe Red needed to thank him, because Edge was watching them hotly with a riveted gaze, a thread of crimson fluid leaking from the tip of his cock to stain the towel.

He didn’t quite flinch as Red crawled up on the cushions, keeping a careful distance from his brother’s bare bones. There was a certain fraught quality to Edge’s expression, a feral wildness like he might bolt away.

“close your sockets, bro,” Red told him, gently. Which mean of course that Edge did no such thing, contrary bastard.

“Why?” Edge said suspiciously. His gaze flicked down Red’s body helplessly to where his dick was pushing out the front of his shorts, then away, then back to Red’s face, the color blooming his cheekbones lovelier than any flower in Refuge.

Thoughts like that weren’t gonna help Red win the game and he shoved it aside, adding it to his growing collection of ‘ain’t thinking about it’.

“because i fucking told you to,” Red retorted, “that’s why. now play the game right.”

“I don’t recall following orders being in the rules,” Edge grumbled, but this time he did as he was told.

Red waited until he was sure those sockets were closed tight, not the faintest hint of crimson showing. Then he reached into his pocket for his special toy surprise.

This particular prize wasn't from their normal toybox since Rus didn't have a lot of interest in his cock. That might be changing, he'd give it a thought some other time. The toy was made of a gelatinous material was only slightly softer than ectoflesh, formed into a hollow sheath that was lined with small bumps and curving grooves designed stimulate, drag out every drop of pleasure possible, willingly or otherwise.

The expected cries of cheating didn’t come and Red flicked a glance at Rus to find him watching with wide, rapturous sockets, face flushed golden bright. One arm was wrapped so tightly around the pillow the fabric threatened to burst and his other hand pressed between his legs overtop his pants, fingers digging in helplessly as if he could stop his cunt from forming by sheer, physical will.

The audience was waiting, the timer was set. Time to get this game started. Red scooped up the depleted bottle of lube and squirted a dollop into the sheath and with one motion, deftly slid it down on his brother’s dick.

The reaction was gratifying. Edge’s hips lurched up wildly, his sockets flying open, hands curled into claws that very nearly latched onto Red’s skull before they abruptly diverted and clenched into the sofa cushions.

"You said no touching!" Edge hissed, crimson eye lights flashing as he trembled with outrage. His sharpened fingertips dug into the cushions, tearing through the fabric down to the memory foam.

“i ain't touching you a bit, baby brother,” Red crooned, and tightened his fist around the sheath, giving it a quick, vigorous stroke. Those bumps had to be digging in, massaging their way up and down with each rub.

Edge gasped wetly, squeezing his sockets shut, "Don't call me that!"

The other sofa creaked and Red slanted a glance at Rus who was halfway to his feet, reaching out weakly and conflicting emotions tangled across his face. “red, stop," Rus said, trembling but firm. "not if he doesn't want it."

Red only chuckled darkly, dragging his clenched fist down achingly slow, then up abruptly again, "oh, don’t you worry, honey, he wants it. don't you?"

Edge said nothing, his breath coming in harsh gasps as he struggled to keep his pelvis still while Red jerked him off through the thin barrier of the sheath. Looked like the trap might need a little more bait.

Red leaned in closer, careful not to so much as graze his brother’s strong, scarred bones, and whispered, low and harsh, "you remember the first time you fucked him? the way he was spread out under you, begging you to take him?”

This time his brother’s breath creaked out like the hinge of an old door as Red kept it up, murmuring breathily close to his auditory canal, “remember pushing your cock into that pretty virgin pussy? how it was already dripping with my come, how tight he was around your cock? kinda like this, yeah, remember him cryin' cause he needed it so much? how scared he was, showing us his soul? sweet thing all dripping wet, he needed it so bad, the mess he made, oh, that honey magic and silver, practically squirting over himself the second you touched his clit, remember that? you remember how he looked when he came?"

He kept up the relentless pace with every low word, letting the memory warm him. There was a certain charm to clumsy eagerness, inexperienced hands searching unknowingly for all the places that felt best. Not that Red missed it exactly, but he sure didn’t mind bringing that memory out to play with from time to time.

Edge was struggling, heaving, his eye lights narrowed to pinpricks as he stared blindly up at the ceiling.

Almost there, almost, and Red leaned in close enough for Edge to feel the heat of his breath, a bare whisper too low for Rus to possibly hear him, "member the first time he said he loved us?"

That did the trick. Edge let out a wretched sound like a sob, bones rattling as he came, filling the sheath to overflowing with his seed. Red could feel the surging heat of it through the thin plastic, smelled the rich spice even as the blare of the alarm came from his phone.

Game, set, match.

Red pulled off, tossing the dripping sheath to the coffee table to join the vibrator already there. Edge only lay weakly in his defeat, pelvis smeared with come, the rest of his bones dabbled with sweat. Red left him there to wallow in his filth, prowling over to Rus.

Who scrabbled back into the corner of the sofa, his sockets so wide it looked like his eye lights were gonna pop loose and fizzle out on the carpet. He fumbled for the phone gracelessly, somehow managing to turn off the warbling timer without dropping it on the floor even as Red raked a look over him. Taking in the heated glow of his joints, the honey-tint to his eye lights, the wet patch seeping through his pants, leaving a darkened stain that clung visibly to his pussy lips.

Yeah, Red had his number now. Looked like their honey had a lil' voyeurism kink going on. That was a new toy Red was looking forward to playing with, fuck yes. But for now, he had a problem of his own going on in his pants and Rus’s magic was crackling hotly in the air, searing lightning searching for the ground

"lay back, sugar," Red slipped off his shorts, briefly fisting his own cock, groaning at the feel of his own hard fingers.

Rus did it instantly, squirming as he worked his pants down his legs and kicked them off even as he asked doubtfully, "this is what you want as a favor?"

"nope, this is mine by right.” Red jerked Rus down until his pelvis was at the edge of the sofa, long legs dangling to the floor. He shuffled forward, lining his cock up with Rus’s eagerly clenching entrance, smearing his cock with golden wetness. “i'll let you know about the favor."

Then he shoved into that wet pussy, groaning at the soaking, tight heat around him as Rus’s wail filled the room.

So fucking gorgeous, watching Rus whimper and flail as Red fucked him. Pretty as Rus was on his knees, Red liked him better on his back. Liked watching that lovely face scrunch up every time Red fucked into him, honeyed tears welling up, streaming down the rounded curves of his cheekbones as that sassy mouth dropped open and his tongue curled behind his teeth.

In the down under, he got to watch his dick moving in the soft, golden magic that filled Rus's pelvis. His cunt was a slippery, plush delight, that first thrust inside always bordered on too tight until his walls loosened up a little, Rus whimpering out little cries as Red forced his cock in, past the rippling clench to fill him up.

And fuck him for how hot that was. Red knew Rus could take a fist all the way up to the elbow into his pussy, a cock wasn't no big thing, (heh), but the feel of it, fuck, like taking his virginity all over again. Red braced his heels against the coffee table and pumped harder, watched the length of his shaft slide in, pussy lips spreading wide around it, parting to give him a nice look at Rus's swollen clit. Red reached down to trace around it teasingly with a careful, sharp-tipped finger and Rus let out a frantic whine.

"you want somethin’, sweetheart?" Red panted out.

"i want to come!" Sweet desperation poured from him, fuck, talk about no stamina. Then again, Rus was like a little energizer bunny of orgasms, he could keep going and going, popping off one after another. Wasn’t no reason to hold him back now.

One hard drag of Red’s thumb over his clit and Rus was arching, his legs going tight around Red’s hips, holding him in deep as he convulsed. A fresh rush of wetness flooding his pussy, smoothing out the ride.

Rus sagged back against the cushions, hiccoughing soft little cries as Red kept it up. His own orgasm was swelling in him, tantalizingly close. Next to him, the sofa suddenly dipped with added weight and maybe Red couldn’t lean up high enough to give Rus’s pleading mouth a kiss, but that was fine, cause Edge was there to do it for him, his brother’s crimson tongue moving sinuously against Rus's golden one, fuck, yeah.

"come on down here, bro,” Red growled, flicking his thumb over Rus’s swollen clit again, “got something better for you to work with."

His brother shifted downward instantly, tilting his head in to lick at that sensitive nub. His crimson tongue was long, prehensile, dipping in between Rus’s femurs. Not his normal one, either, this one forked at the tip, all the better to work against Rus's clit, circling it from both sides, yeah, his fucking clever brother. Sometimes it wandered too low, one of the tips occasionally grazed against Red's cock, slyly pushing into Rus’s cunt and catching Red off-guard with a brief firework of sensation.

Red could taste his own sweat, sharp and faintly bitter, tried not to jerk as that tongue lashed against him again. He didn’t want Edge the same way he did Rus, he didn’t, but oh, you kid—

Fuck it, he couldn’t hold out anymore.

Red let go with a groan, pulling out to come in hot streaks over Rus's pelvis, and, oh, yeah, his bro's face. Edge flinched, closing his sockets and didn't stop, licking Rus through another orgasm even as a glossy spurt of come striped across his tongue, the fluid a shade of crimson darker than the ectoflesh.

With a deeply satisfied sigh, Red shuffled over enough to flop on the sofa even as Rus trembled and writhed through his shuddering ecstasy. He watched through narrowed sockets as Edge sat up, blinking too fast and his tremulous expression was loaded with conflicting signals. Almost, Red reached out, his sense still blurrily pleased, struck with the idea of rubbing his come in, smearing it across his brother’s scarred bones, marking him—

He reeled back, snorting aloud at his own stupidity. Yeah, yeah, his brother and no one else’s. He’d lived that schtick his whole life, no reason to complicate it now.

Looking at it sideways, the mess of his come was dripping down Edge’s skull in a way that made Red think hilariously of strawberry syrup on cheesecake.

Well, it could be a sweet treat for someone to eat, now couldn’t it.

"whoopsie, looks like i messed him up," Red drawled, elbowing Rus lightly. "you gonna clean him up, sugar skull?"

Rus stirred at the pet name, sockets fluttering open, then going wide as he took in the sights. He swallowed audibly, husking out, "yeah i can…i can do that if…if you want?"

Like Edge was even capable of turning that down. A short, sharp nod and Edge sat obediently still, let Rus lave at his face, greedily licking up the spatters while Red watched the crimson smearing the deeper gold of his tongue avidly. The sudden flood of fresh arousal was startling, almost unwelcome.

Almost.

The way he figured it, Edge would only stand that for so long before he hauled them all off to their massive shower. The three of them standing together beneath the generous spray, the water pouring down on them about two degrees lower than the temperature of lava, exactly how Rus liked it. The probability of blowjobs or fucking was high and so was the chance of a nap afterword, Rus snuggled up against him blissfully well-fucked, his brother on the other side. A preciously rare gift from the Angel to make up for the slagging shithole of Red’s life before.

He'd guarantee that Rus would mumble out a sleepy ‘I love you’ for them both before drifting off and right about then, Red wanted that more than anything in the fucking world. Those three words, Rus, and Edge.

His, all his in a way no one’d ever been his entire life. Not even Sans.

Red didn’t have a fucking clue what game they were playing anymore. Didn’t matter, either. All he knew was that the fates were sore losers and that he didn’t give a shit.

He was playing to win.

-fin

Next Chapter

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

Day 3 Hobbit Plot Bunnies

Title: Second Chance at a Happy Ending

Summary:  Modern Reincarnation AU. Thorin is the CEO of Erebor Industries and Bilbo is a reclusive paralegal. Two people who have no business existing in the same universe as each other, and yet they dream of each other from the time of The Hobbit. So when Gandalf offers Bilbo’s services in regards to a legal problem in Erebor, well it’s a second chance neither of them thought they would be lucky enough to receive.

Possible Trigger Warnings: Thorin struggles with PTSD

POV: Switches between Bilbo and Thorin

It was happening again. The dreams. It wasn’t every night. In fact, sometimes Bilbo would go months, even years, without having one. However, every single one of them was as vivid as the last and seemed to haunt him for the rest of the day.

“You! What were you doing?” The injured dwarf commanded relying on the help of his kin to regain his footing.

“You nearly got yourself killed!” He continued taking a step closer. “Did I not say that you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the wild? That you had no place amongst us.”

At this point he was mere inches away. Close enough that Bilbo could feel the warmth radiating off of him and the glare burning into him. Not that he was able to raise his eyes higher than the dwarf’s booted feet.

“I have never been so wrong in all my life.” The dwarf sighed in relief before enveloping Bilbo in a tight hug.

Bilbo stiffened completely unprepared for the embrace, and he was certain his jaw was dropped in surprise. Being in his arms though...a smile split his face as he hugged back just as tightly amidst the cheers of the remaining company. Too soon, the dwarf stepped away looking him over as if to double check that he was alright.

“I am sorry I doubted you.” He stated, his eyes full of guilt.

Bilbo shook his head, his chest burning under that look.

“No, I would have doubted me too.” He answered. “I’m not a hero or a warrior...or even a burglar.”

Never once did the dwarf’s sky eyes waver. Never once did his soft smile wane. Bilbo would have done anything to always have that smile on him. However, the sounds of eagles screeching seemed to drag both of their gazes away, and when Bilbo looked back the dwarf was staring over the top of his head, his mouth agape. As he walked ahead, Bilbo spun around as well only to see a single mountain rising out of the expanse as if trying to reach out to the rising sun.

“Is that what I think it is?” Bilbo questioned following the dwarf to the edge of the ledge they were standing on.

“Ere.... The Lonely Mountain. The last of the great dwarf kingdoms of Middle Earth.” A familiar voice answered.

“Our home.” The dwarf breathed reverently.

Bilbo stared at him with a smile appreciating his strong profile as his eyes stayed glued on the mountain. Somewhere behind them there was something about a bird.

“We’ll take it as a sign.” The dwarf grinned looking over at Bilbo fondly. “A good omen.”

Bilbo felt his chest puff up in pride as he nodded along. He turned back towards the mountain as if it held all the answers to his problems.

“You’re right. I do believe the worst is behind us.”

Bilbo truly believed it too. And then there was a giant golden eye glaring at him.

Bilbo gasped, his hand reaching for his ring finger, yanking at something that wasn’t there. When he finally had his wits about him again, he fell back against the pillow rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He glanced over at his alarm clock with a groan. It was still too early to get up.

He fiddled with the lamp on his side table before reaching for the notebook in his first drawer. His mother had taught him to keep a dream journal back when he finally decided to confess them to her. The beat-up twenty year old spiral was full of torn and stained pages that contained detailed accounts of the odd encounters with the dwarf king he had taken to nicknaming Oak. 

Once he wrote down what he remembered of the dream, he flipped to the back where he had been working towards a sketch of Oak. The problem was, as clear as he could see him while dreaming, the image always tended to flicker away from his consciousness the moment he woke up. All he had so far was a very detailed set of eyes with a rather striking nose. When Bilbo finished eking out every last moment he could remember, he carefully put the notebook back in the drawer and hopped up to make a pot of coffee before starting his day.

Not that long ago, his morning would consist of fighting his way into a suit to get out the door with plenty of time to fight the Tube’s morning commute to one of the top law firms in London. However, the death of his mother three years ago had him re-evaluating his priorities. So he said goodbye to the spacious apartment, goodbye to the hustle and bustle of Zone Two, and retreated north to Lancashire. He would have quit his job as a paralegal completely, but Gandalf Grey, one of five partners at Maiar Law, refused to accept his resignation.

So here Bilbo was, receiving his workload via email, and going outside only for groceries and to mess around in the garden in order to preserve his image from total and complete hermit. Not exactly where he pictured himself at thirty-four that was for certain. He was in the process of seeing what exactly Gandalf had in store for him today knowing he still needed to finish putting together the information on the Proudfoot case only to narrow his eyes at the strange email in his inbox.

As he opened it and scanned the contents, he immediately had his phone in hand and Gandalf’s name highlighted before he even stopped to think of whether it was a good idea or not. Especially considering it was 6:30 in the morning.

“Bilbo! My dear fellow, how are you on this glorious morning?” Gandalf’s voice answered.

It was almost obnoxious how cheery he was.

“Do you at all remember our conversation last week?” He demanded, skipping the pleasantries.

“Of course.” Gandalf returned.

“You came all the way down to my house and said there was a job for me in London if I wanted it, and I told you I was fine where I was.” Bilbo prompted further.

“I dare say my memory hasn’t failed me quite yet.” Gandalf huffed. “I recall the conversation.”

“So then why in the world do I have an email from Erebor Industries confirming my 2pm appointment with someone named Thorin Durin?!”

“Because I thought your argument was a load of poppycock.” Gandalf scoffed. “So I took the liberty of accepting for you.”

If the man was standing before him, Bilbo would throttle him. He swears he would.

“No, absolutely not. I won’t do it.” Bilbo snarked, rubbing a hand down his face.

“Can you give me one good reason why you shouldn’t?” Gandalf pestered.

“How about the fact that I only stayed with the firm because you allowed a work from home clause to my contract? How about the fact that I’m woefully underprepared to meet with one of the richest CEOs in the UK? Oh and if those aren’t good enough, let’s bring up the fact that I’M NOT ACTUALLY A LAWYER!” 

There was silence on the line for a long moment. Long enough for the anger to slowly dissipate out of Bilbo.

“Bilbo, what you’re doing right now isn’t living. It’s existing. The world isn’t there in your little cottage amongst your books and garden. It’s out here. Come back to us. Besides, all I need you to do is gather information on what Mr. Durin needs our services for. You’re not to advise him in any way, and he’s well aware of this fact. Just this one small favor, and I’ll leave you to your precious Shire.”

Something ugly and painful welled up in Bilbo’s chest at Gandalf’s words. What did he know anyways? Bilbo was perfectly content here in his mother’s house. Perfectly content.

“I’m sorry Gandalf, but you have the wrong person for the job.” He murmured softly.

“Well…” Gandalf’s disappointment rolled through the phone in waves. “I don’t believe that is true. But if this is what you wish, I won’t press the matter. Take care of yourself, Bilbo Baggins.”

With that, he ended the call, and Bilbo numbly set his phone down on the countertop. Well that was that. He decided to pitter about the kitchen and start on something for breakfast. Probably just eggs and toast. He pretended the silence of the house wasn’t oppressive in the least.

He took a shower, dressed in something sensible, and settled himself into his study again with a nice cuppa. He fished a pair of reading glasses out of the pocket on his jumper, staring at the documents to do with Mr. Proudfoot’s case. However, he couldn’t take in the words. His mind was elsewhere. He felt relatively guilty for his behavior towards Gandalf. Maybe he could just put together some information about Erebor Industries that could help whoever was going to take his place.

He opened up a search tab on his computer and started reading through the google listings. He knew the company for it’s massive steel mill, but he had no idea they had a jewelry chain, and that they made weaponry for the military. That seemed rather ominous until he read further and found out that Thorin Durin was a war vet. Medically discharged eight years prior for a shot in the chest that nearly collapsed his lung. Bilbo winced, rubbing his own chest in sympathy.

His search switched gears at that point, and he clicked on a page dedicated to the relatively young CEO. Forty-two, only surviving family was his sister and two nephews. Seemed to be a relatively private person. He found it odd that there were no scandals surrounding him or the company. It was odd for someone seeking legal counsel outside of his own company. Then, there at the bottom of the page, was a photo of Thorin Durin, and Bilbo swore his heart forgot how to beat. 

It was him. It was Oak, the dwarf king. Bilbo would recognize the face from his dreams anywhere. How though? How was this possible? Bilbo’s fingers traced Thorin’s haunted eyes and humorless face so unlike the soft smile from his dream this morning. In that moment, Bilbo wanted to do whatever he could to relieve this man of even a fraction of his worries.

Bilbo jolted. The meeting. He had to be there. No way was he missing out now. He checked his phone. He had time. He ran into his bedroom turning on the iron as he searched the closet for one of his good suits stuffed in the back. Twenty minutes later, he was all but flying to his car. It was going to be a long drive into London. He paused to send Gandalf a quick text before peeling out of the drive like his house was on fire. He had an appointment with destiny he was not about to be late for.

[allthefilmsiveseenforfree]

Sonic the Hedgehog

I never played Super Mario Bros. until I was in college - we were a Sega household or we were nothing. While my friends were busy rescuing Princess Peach and throwing barrels as Donkey Kong (is that how that game works? I have no idea), I was zipping along collecting rings and fighting a mad...robot...doctor? Not really sure what Dr. Robotnik’s whole deal was, but the point is I was a Sonic girl through and through. In spite of feeling a little silly, that means I was genuinely excited about the movie adaptation, which is frankly ridiculous as video game movies couldn’t be less of a cursed movie genre. Even amongst horrifying character redesigns (why the TEETH??) I kept my optimism intact. 

I loved Sonic so much as a child that, as an adult 20 years later, I adopted a pet hedgehog named Hamish. Those of you who know me well have probably met Hamish or have seen his pictures on the internet in his annual Halloween costumes (tiny hats are key). He was most people’s first hedgehog friend in real life, and I delighted in learning as much about hedgehogs as I could so that I could teach people fun hedgehog facts. Despite normally living 1-3 years in the wild and 2-4 years in captivity, Hamish kept right on trucking, running miles and miles every night in his wheel and eating dried grubs out of my hand as a treat for almost 7 years. He got sick a couple weeks ago - stopped eating and drinking, and when I took him to the vet he got some meds and supplies for syringe feeding and it seemed like he might be able to recover. It had been a really stressful few days, and I was constantly worried about Hamish, so I wanted a little bit of escapism - a fun, probably forgettable family movie sounded perfect. And after I got back from seeing Sonic the Hedgehog, I gave Hamish his medicine and food and held him in my hand for the last time. He passed away that night while I was asleep. I’m not usually the type to ascribe significance to coincidences like that, but it felt like there was a reason I saw this movie on the day I did. Was my faith misplaced? Was this a mere trifle or a fitting tribute to Hamish’s memory? Well...

I think the things that I loved about the movie are many of the same things that I loved about Hamish - a playfulness, a sense of humor, and in spite of a silly-looking exterior, a beating heart full of affection and comfort. I was all primed for disappointment - I had high expectations, the studio went through that costly redesign, and I was already in a pretty emotionally tangled up place. Not the best circumstances going in, which makes it all the more impressive that Sonic is one of my favorite films I’ve seen this year by far. 

The basic plot is simple - Sonic (voiced by Ben Schwartz) is an alien who had to leave his home planet in a hurry, and uses magical golden rings to travel portal-like to other planets where he will be safe from any enemies who want to harness his powers. So he’s been hanging on Earth for awhile, hiding out in a teeny town in Montana. Sonic is kinda obsessed with the town sheriff, Tom (James Marsden) and his wife Maddie (Tika Sumpter), who are a nice, normal, kind couple who love each other and their town - all Sonic wants is to be friends with them because he’s so lonely. One night, that loneliness manifests in a big way through his superspeed powers - enough to garner the attention of Dr. Robotnik (Jim Carrey, returning to the rubberfaced comedy that made him famous). In his efforts to escape Dr. Robotnik, two things happen: Tom discovers Sonic’s existence and subsequently makes Sonic lose his magical rings. So you know what that means - oddball buddy road trip movie time as they go on a quest to get the rings back!

Some thoughts:

Ben Schwartz is amazing in this role. It’s perfect casting, and a great voice performance as he injects so much joy and wonder into every moment. You really feel Sonic’s outsider status, his loneliness, his yearning, and his ceaseless joy at every new experience he has. 

There is a Very Good Dog in multiple scenes of the movie! He is doing the best job!!

Such a fantastic surprise to see Adam Pally in a supporting role as a deeply earnest and clueless deputy. 

And is there any more reliably affable actor than James Marsden? I have never NOT liked him in anything I’ve seen, and he seems like just a general good-natured stand-up guy. His chemistry with Sonic is really great, which is always impressive when you imagine him acting next to a tennis ball or otherwise strange CGI stand-in. 

One of my favorite things about the film is Tom and Maddie’s marriage. Even though Tom is one half of the madcap buddy duo that makes up the bulk of the film, Maddie is his equal partner. They are shown to genuinely like each other, and she is never depicted as the nag or the lame wife who is trying to stifle his adventures or act as the Voice of Reason who is demanding he come back for his safety. She supports this crazy ride because Sonic is in danger and she has a big heart and wants to help him too. I’m particularly glad they didn’t shove her into a subservient nonexistent wife role, or an Angry Black Woman role. I just think it’s so good for kids to see this married couple who are working together to help someone and who love AND like each other.

The biggest highlight is obviously seeing Jim Carrey return to his form as a sort of evil, power-hungry Ace Ventura. He’s over-the-top, his whole body is made of rubber, and he’s having the time of his life. Case in point - he has a dance sequence in the middle of the film that made me grin so hard my face hurt. He’s cartoonishly evil in the best way, and it works because Dr. Robotnik is one of those villains that wants to fuck shit up just cause. That’s difficult to buy into, but Carrey’s madcap performance and his absolute commitment to being the smartest person in any room and hating everyone else for it really makes it work.  

I was so delighted by how tight Patrick Casey and Josh Miller’s script is from start to finish. There’s an actual good reason Tom and Sonic are stuck together. Sonic loves watching action movies (from the bushes outside Tom’s house) so the movie is full of fun classic action movie homages and lines that keep things light and fun even in the midst of some peril. And there’s real emotional and physical stakes here as Sonic tries to find a friend and a place he can call home where he won’t have to worry about running from his enemies. 

Did I Cry? I teared up a little near the end at some very tender friend talk!

There are two extra scenes during the credits - don’t miss them, particularly if you are a fan of the whole Sonic mythos in general!

This movie is sweet, fun, genuinely funny, and just as quick as its namesake. I went into it just for a little escapism, and came out with a movie that will forever be tied to my memories of one of the best friends I’ve ever had. I think Hamish would be proud, Sonic, and I’m glad I got to have the time with both of you that I did. 

If you liked this review, please consider reblogging or subscribing to my Patreon! For as low as $1, you can access bonus content and movie reviews, or even request that I review any movie of your choice.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Lost one sibling, gained four more; Queen x teen reader pt.2

*Author’s note*

Okay so here we go w/pt.2 now here is where we get to majority of the angst towards the middle and the end of the story. So I hope you all got your handkerchiefs out cause you’ll need them for this part. I’m sorry in advance for any heartbreak that I’ll cause but it ends with fluff, don’t worry. Enjoy my lovelies

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@ixchel-9275

@waddles03

@geek-and-proud

@platawnic

@queendeakyy

@coolcxt

_________________________________________________________

"(Y/n). (Y/n)~ wake up sleeping beauty." I moaned and groggily opened my eyes to see Deacy smiling down at me. I felt his hand stroking my hair and I let out a soft yawn.

"Are we there yet?"

"We're just about to turn into the driveway right now." I heard Roger say. I got off Deacy's shoulder and as we finally arrived up at the studio I was surprised to see it was more like a barn than a recording studio. "This is it?" Roger asked.

"This is it boys and girl. Welcome to your new home for the next several weeks." Our driver parked the car and we all got out. I raised my arms stretching them out trying to wake myself up and all around me I saw nothing but miles of greenery, some animals out and about like cattle and chickens.

"It's pleasant. I think it'll do good." I said to myself.

"Oi intern! Make yourself useful and grab some of these bags." I heard Paul's nastily voice snap at me.

"Watch it Prenter. Less you wanna be thrown over the barn." Roger threatened him.

We were then given our rooms. Freddie of course got the biggest one, Rog's was quite comfortable looking, Brian had the rickety old bed, poor John was shoved down the basement in probably the smallest room in the whole house, then just before Paul could stick me down in the middle of the living room, Roger came down and said.

"Hang on, there's a spare room jointed with Freddie's. I think (y/n) should take that room."

"That won't do any good Roger, I've already called that room." Paul said.

"You sure you want that room Prenter? Because I just went in it and I saw this big, nasty, hairy spider about the size of a dinner plate. Not to mention the rat burrows I found in the drawers." At hearing Roger's tale, Paul's eyes widened and he said.

"Better yet, why don't you take that room lass?"

"Thanks you for understanding Prenter." Said Rog as he came over and wrapped an arm around me and brought me back upstairs.

"Please tell me there's no spider or rats." I whispered to him.

"Of course there's not. I just said that to jerk him off. You didn't really think I'd let you sleep in a room like that, did you?" He then opened the door to my room and it was fairly big in itself.

A beautiful wooden wardrobe with carvings of horses designed along the frame, a Victorian style dresser, a pretty big bed maybe a queen sized mattress and a joint bathroom.

"Plus I figured you deserve your own bathroom than having to share it amongst us men. Leave the fighting to us, no need to drag you into our morning squabbles of who gets the first morning shower." I set my stuff down and said.

"Thanks Rog."

"No need to thank me at all love, just hope you can handle Fred as a roommate."

"I managed while we were in Japan, didn't I?"

"That you did, well I'll leave you to unpack your things. Breakfast will be made in about an hour. Deacy's cooking today." I moaned already thinking of the delicious meal Deacy was going to prep for us. After unpacking my stuff, I lay down on the bed to test it and already I felt like I was on a heavenly cloud.

"Oh my god this bed is so comfortable." I turned towards the window and looked out to the green paradise that reached our far beyond the horizon. "God Kay, you should really see this view." I then grabbed my journal and did a quick sketch of the outside. The sky, clouds and even rays of sunlight peeking out. As I kept working, I soon heard Deacy's voice proclaim.

"Breakfast is ready!" I smiled and set my journal down and raced downstairs. "Well first one down, first one to be served. And also given something a little extra."

"Thanks Deacy." I thanked as he gave me extra cheese on toast and eggs.

"How come she gets extras?" exclaimed Paul. Deacy and I turned towards him and he said.

"I only give extras to first arrivals. And (y/n) here deserves every ounce of extra food because she alone appreciates my cooking."

"What are you talking about I appreciate your cooking Deacy darling!" Freddie proclaimed.

"Just last week you said my toast was too crispy for your liking."

"I was recovering from a hangover and I needed flavor, not dried up ash."

"Exactly my point Fred. Now everyone else come make your plate." We all then gathered around the table with me sitting between Brian and Freddie and Roger sitting across from me.

As the day went on, the boys went immediately to work after breakfast and tested out the recording studio across from the main house. They were all scattered around currently trying to come up with song ideas.

I was walking along outside to get some fresh air when I saw Roger bothering some of the chickens.

"I thought you were supposed to be working? Not bothering the livestock." He jolted before turning towards me and he said.

"I am working. In fact I've poured my heart and soul into this song."

"Oh really? And what song have you poured your very being into?"

"Come into the studio with me and I'll show you." He then guided me to the studio and went over to his drumkit and began playing his song to which he named "I'm in love with my car."

After he played it, I'll admit I was intrigued. It definitely had a good drum feel to it, because this was a song where the drums really got to shine and I haven't heard a song do that yet.

"How was that?" he asked me.

"It's......" I tried to find the right words on how I really felt.

"Please tell me you don't hate it. Cause I swear if you do I'll lock you in here till you say you love it."

"No, no Rog I don't hate it. I love the fact that it has a good drum feel to it. They really shine more than anything I've ever heard of from any rock and roller. It's just the lyrics.....Please tell me you don't actually want to have—"

"No! It's a metaphor (n/n). In fact Johnathan is inspiration to this."

"Wait Johnathan Harris, one of the roadies?"

"Yeah. He says that the current love of his life is his Triumph F4. So as appreciate for what he's done for us on the road, this song is for him."

"Ahh I see."

"So you—do like the song?" he asked almost insecurely. He stared at me with nervous baby blue eyes that made him look like a nervous puppy about to go to the vet. How could one say no to his face?

"I like it." A proud smile spread wide across his face as he came up and picked me up and spun me around.

"Oh thank you lovie. Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!"

The next morning I woke up to the sound of an argument downstairs. I stood up and walked down the stairs to see Roger throw a few strips of bacon right at Brian.

"Is that strong enough?!" he then cleared the entire counter. Food, plates, the vase with some flowers and water all slammed right on the ground and broke into a million pieces. "What about that!?" he then reached for the coffee machine and was ready to smash it when Brian and Deacy exclaimed.

"NOT THE COFFEE MACHINE!!!"

"What is going on here!?" I snapped. The three of them turned towards me and that's when they all began talking over each other. I rubbed my fingers to my temples immediately regretting even saying anything. "SHUT IT!!!" at that point they all went quiet.

"(Y/n), please tell me you didn't actually agree to a song like 'I'm in love with my car'." Brian pleaded with me.

"I did. I think the song has some potential. I mean yeah the lyrics are a little iffy but it's catchy." At that point John and Brian groaned out while Roger gave me a wink and a thumbs up.

"And to think I was gonna make you Veronica's special apple pie. But now I take that back." Deacy said.

"I thought you had good taste in music (y/n)."

"And she does. At least it's better than calling someone sweet like they're cheese."

As the day went on, we were now recording Freddie's song to which he's titled "Bohemian Rhapsody." I'll admit the lyrics made absolutely no sense whatsoever, but Freddie had a vision for the song and just hearing him sing and play the piano of how he wanted this song to be, made me begin to really like this song.

Right now Brian who had just had an idea for a guitar solo for this song, was in the studio recording what he had in mind. I'll admit it this'll probably be the first time a guitar solo is sung, and when people finally get a taste of this song, they'll probably be singing this for decades to come.

Weeks continued to pass by and we were still focused on Fred's song. But what was really going through my mind was that I hadn't heard from my mum since the second day we came here. I know I've been busy with the guys but I would've thought Paul being the message keeper, he would've at least told me if my mum had called.

But then again you should never trust a snake with secrets.

It was currently 2:30am when I kept tossing and turning in my sleep. I kept whimpering out as my breathing went ragged and heavy.

"No. No.....no Kay don't.....don't leave me."

"(Y/n). (Y/n) dear. Darling wake up!" I suddenly opened my eyes someone reached for my lamp and when the light came on, Freddie stood hovering over me. "It's okay, it's okay darling, you're okay."

"Freddie wha—what time is it?"

"2:30 darling, I could hear you whimpering from my room."

"Ahh shit I'm so sorry Fred I—I didn't mean to wake you up."

"No, no it's fine dear. Are you okay? It sounded like a pretty bad dream." He said as he stroked some hair out of my face. I sighed heavily.

"It's been over 3 weeks since I've talked to my mum. And just the last few times that I have called I got no answer from the house phone. Freddie I'm—I'm worried something's happened to Kay. What if—what if she's....."

"Hey, hey, hey no don't think like that darling. Come here." He sat down beside me and pulled me close so that my ear was pressed over his heart. "Don't automatically assume the worst dear."

"Then why haven't I gotten word from my mum yet?"

"I'll sort it out with Paul in the morning. For now try to get back to sleep, yeah?" I sniffled and nodded. I lowered myself back into bed and Freddie helped tucked me back in. "There we go darling. Snug as a cute bug in a rug." I hummed a chuckle and he smiled at me. "Stay here for a minute."

He then left my room for half a second before finally coming back in with a candle in one hand and his lighter in another. He set the candle by the nightstand and flicked his lighter on before lighting it up. He turned my light off, letting the candle be my only source of light.

"What is this Fred?"

"Something I used to do with Kash when she was a little girl before I went off to boarding school. While this candle is a light, they are the eyes that a brother leaves behind to guard his sister while she dreams at night. No nightmares would dare enter while this candle is lite."

"You promise?"

"I swear it." He smiled and brushed my bangs out of the way before placing a gentle and loving kiss at the center of my forehead. "Goodnight my little kitten."

"Night Freddie." He smiled and gave me one final kiss to each of my cheeks before walking out smiling softly and shutting the door. I kept my eyes on the candle as it flickered on an invisible breeze. I soon felt my eyes grow heavy as I fell back asleep.

Early the next morning, we were starting the Operatic section of Bohemian Rhapsody. Roger being the high range singer that he is, recorded his bits for the Galileo parts.

"How was that?" he asked.

"Freddie?" Deacy spoke trying to get Fred's attention as he stared at the meters.

"Higher." Freddie said. Roy rewind the tape as Deacy said to Roger.

"Can you go a bit higher?"

"If I go any higher, only dogs will hear me."

"Try." Said Fred.

"Freddie's note, sorry." Said Deacy.

"Go on, roll the tape." Sighed Roger. Then on take 24 Rog tried the Galileo's again, this time they were higher as he did grand arm gestures to help make his voice go higher. "How was that? Better?"

"Higher." Freddie bluntly demanded. Brian pointed up to the sky with his pen and Roger growled out.

"Jesus, how many more Galileo's do you want?"

"Freddie wants to do a few more overdubs." Deacy stated.

"Do we even have any tape left?" asked Roger.

"I do have to say the tape is wearing out. It can't take much more."

"Yeah we can't afford much more. What are we three weeks overscheduled?" questioned Brian as he wrote down some notes while I was drawing Roger in the studio.

Soon enough one more take turned into 9-10 takes before Fred was finally satisfied. The operatic session continued with the next line, Freddie who was pacing around said with a grin.

"That's it." After Roger was done singing Freddie continued, "It's beautiful. Love it!" with a clap of his hands, they continued on.

Now all four of them were in the booth going back and forth from the low ranges to the high for the Bismillah section.

The guys got into it so much especially at the final vocalization that by the time the rock out section came on, they were all bouncing up and down so much that they actually made the flats collapse backwards, barely missing some of their stuff.

Freddie and John came falling to the ground, while Rog and Bri were the ones responsible for knocking the two flats behind them down. I couldn't help but laugh myself as I knew this song was gonna change Queen's life forever.

"How was it (y/n) darling?" asked Freddie.

"I love it guys. It's perfect! This is gonna change the world forever." I said into the microphone and the guys all cheered.

Whoo what a rush! I thought we'd never get the song done. Guess being a perfectionist finally paid off, because as I've said repeatedly I truly believe "Bohemian Rhapsody" is gonna change the way of music forever.

Now with the song finally done and the guys taking a break for a bit, I decided to try and call my mum again to see how Kaylee is doing.

I typed in my home phone number and I heard it ring three times before my mum's voice said.

'Hello?'

"Hey mummy."

'(Y/n)?'

"Yeah who'd you think it was Debbie Reynolds? I've......"

'(Y/n) I've been trying to call you repeatedly for weeks hadn't you gotten any of my messages?' her voice was frantic and cracking with sorrow.

"Whoa, whoa mum slow down. What's happened?"

'I've been calling you repeatedly nonstop. This man who answered said he'd relay my messages to you. But you never called me back, why didn't you call me back?!' Paul. Goddamn you Prenter!

"Mum I didn't get any messages. What's happened?"

'(Y/n)......it's Kaylee.'

"What about Kaylee is she alright?!"

'Oh sweetheart I'm so sorry......it just happened so suddenly, the doctors tried so hard to revive her but she—she died a week ago.' At this point I just froze.

No she—she couldn't have. Not Kaylee, not my best friend. She can't be dead, she can't be!

"(Y/n) dear! Come on out and party with us! We—darling?" I saw all four of the guys come in from outside and they must've seen the horrified shock on my face.

I could hear the faint sounds of my mum trying to get my attention but all I did was drop the phone and race upstairs. I slammed the door shut and leaned up against it.

My chest felt like it was being squished by a car as I could barely get a breath of air out. Then I guess I must've blacked out because all I could faintly hear was the sound of crashing, the faint feeling of my fist beating against a wall and just screaming. I don't know how long I was doing this but it wasn't until I felt the familiar arms of Roger wrap around me trying to get me to stop.

I ended up crying and screaming as I just collapsed into Roger's lap and wept hard and long.

I was now back in London ready to bid a final farewell to my sister at her funeral. I only just wish I could've said goodbye to her before she passed away. Since it was an open casket, my mum and I stood side by side of each other as we stared down at Kaylee before we would bury her.

"She loved you (y/n). I hope you realize that." Said my mum.

"I wish I got to say goodbye to her though."

"I know." She wrapped an arm around me and kissed the top of my head and rubbed my arm and back. She then left me alone with my sister. I stared down at her and it was like she was asleep, like our favorite Disney Princess Aurora. However I knew that not even true love's kiss would wake her up, because unlike Aurora my sister is actually dead and no spell can reverse it to make it a sleeping curse.

I didn't even know what to say. My throat was choking up as it felt dry, my stomach was in tight knots, and I felt like crying but my tears were all spent. I felt sick and just wanted to curl up and disappear, maybe even die myself so that I could be reunited with my sister. I leaned down and pressed my forehead against hers and whispered.

"Goodbye Kay." I kissed her forehead and began to realize just how cold she was. I backed away from her casket and lowered my head as I felt sobs coming out of me once more. I felt a presence behind me and that's when I heard Roger's voice say.

"We're so sorry (y/n)." I whimpered and immediately nuzzled myself into his chest as my voice trembled.

"Thank you Queen." Roger wrapped his arms around me and placed his head on top of mine and kept hugging me.

It was surprising that the boys wanted to come to the funeral to pay their respects to Kaylee, and it was also surprising that from some of the profit they've already made from their previous records, as well as payment for this album to help pay for this whole funeral.

I soon was passed over to Brian who gave me a soft but assuring bear hug.

"We're truly sorry for your loss (y/n). Kaylee didn't deserve to be taken away so young. But she'll always watching over you from the stars."

"And we're always here for you precious darling." Freddie stated. He came over and cupped each side of my face and he said as he wiped away my tears, "Paul's out. After finding out he kept these messages from you, we fired him. We wish we had found out sooner, you know we'd stop the recording and drive you back home to say a final goodbye. You know that right?" I nodded and I felt him kiss a tear away.

Deacy soon came up and he held his arms out for me. I instantly went to him and clung onto him. And even when he refused to say a word, this was the best comfort I could ask for.

I didn't need all this sympathy talk, or the repetitive 'she's always watching over you' or 'she's never really gone. She's up in heaven with the Lord watching over you.' Or whatever religious BS people have to say.

He just held me and pet my hair, and that's all I needed.

After that I—I couldn't go back to work for the guys. I had no motivation anymore, just due to the fact that I needed to be with my mother now. She had just lost her first born child and I can't imagine what she's going through right now. I need to be there for her, no matter what to let her know I'm still her. Even if it means letting go of my dreams.

2 years later; I was working a 9-5 shift at a shopping center. I basically did what Mary used to do at Biba. Along with that, my mum's forced us to go to therapy sessions to try and talk about our feelings after Kaylee's death.

Since I was now done with work, I had to go to my independent weekly session. I was sitting on the couch with my therapist Dr. Lockwood sitting at his desk.

"So how have you been handling all this so far?"

"I mean—I get by day by day. Some days are hard, some are easy." I answered.

"Have you entered into Ealing art college yet? You said you wanted to be an artist."

"I decided not to go. So I just work at the shopping center a few miles away from here. Sorta near Biba."

"Why did you decide to give up your dream? I thought being an artist was your dream?"

"Yeah well dreams change." I sneered.

"Okay, okay I can understand that. So do you like this job better than your old one?" I remained silent. "Your mother said that you worked alongside Queen. They've got good music, my daughter's bought every one of their records."

"Yeah they're.....they're talented guys." I muttered.

"So about your previous job? Was it better than your current one?"

"I mean.....I don't have as much fun as I used to but....." I trailed off and couldn't bring myself to answer.

"Do you think your sister would've wanted you to give up your job with them?" I turned to look at him and I snapped.

"Why must you assume what my sister would want of me!? You're not her! You don't know what it's like to lose your best friend! You're just trying to make me feel guilty, that's all you've ever done!"

"I'm not making you feel guilty. Your mum told me that your sister was thrilled that you were working with both of yours favorite band. She knew you were special and just what Queen needed."

"I just......"

"(Y/n), I bet the boys of Queen miss you just as much as you miss them. I know why you had to leave, it was your way of handling your grief, and to be there for your mum. But the boys had helped you throughout your internship, as well as during the funeral. No rock band would do that willingly." I leaned back against the couch and sighed heavily. "I believe your sister wouldn't want you to push them away as you have been."

"They—well Roger mostly has tried to reach out a few times for the past couple months. I never did call him back though."

"I think you should go see them. Aren't they going to perform in Houston in a couple days?"

"What if they don't want to see me since I've been avoiding them?"

"If they truly loved you, I doubt they would turn you aside."

So I took Dr. Lockwood's advice and got a ticket and went on the next flight to Houston, Texas for their concert. As usual the boys performed magnificently on stage, especially with their new album News of the World out. I also took notice that Rog, Freddie and Deacy had shorter hair than I last remembered.

But they still were awesome up there, hell I thought they looked even better with the shorter hair. They continued to work the audience with each song and seeing the crowd react bigger and more energetic than ever before it made me happy to know the guys were finally reaching the popularity they always wanted to have.

When the show was over, I stayed behind and somehow managed to sneak backstage. I walked along the underground hallways that lead to the dressing rooms when I was stopped by a security guard.

"Excuse me do you have a backstage pass miss?"

"No but I know the band."

"Uh-huh you and every other young teenage girl that pulls this move." He stated as he gripped hold of my arms and began to take me outside.

"No, no let go I'm not kidding! I used to be their lawyer's assistant!"

"Young lady I gave you fair warning, now please leave or else I'll have you arrested."

"What is going on out—(y/n)?" I turned and gaped.

"Phoebe?" It was Freddie's assistant Peter or as Freddie like to call him, Phoebe.

"Oh my god you—you actually came." He said with a wide smile.

"Yeah I—I was hoping to also maybe......talk to the guys."

"Yes of course ohh you have no idea how happy they'll be to see you again."

"But....." the security guard tried to butt in and that's when Phoebe slammed him.

"Oi back off pal, this young lady here is Queen's personal assistant. She's just been on personal leave for a while. So if you don't let her through, you'll have to face the wrath of the four Queens." With no other words from the security guard, he let me go and Phoebe extended his arm out towards me and I followed behind him. As we walked along the corridors he asked me, "So how have things been for you (y/n)?"

"It's.....been rough."

"I know what you mean. When my mum died I didn't know what to do."

"Are—are they upset with me?" I asked nervously.

"Of course not darling. Not once have they talked about you in anger or resentment. If anyone did, Roger and Fred were the first to pop those bastards in the face." I nodded. Soon we reached the dressing room and he said, "here we are love. They should be decent by now. Go on in."

"Thanks Peter." He smiled and patted my shoulder before leaving to check out to see if the roadies had finally cleared the stage and packed everything up. I stared at the door and took a deep breath in before exhaling softly and slowly opened up the door.

"He threw my best fucking pair of maracas away the first day. Great sounding maracas and I mean....it took me hours to steal them." I softly smiled as I heard Roger's voice for the first time in 2 years. I could hear the sounds of laughter before Freddie spoke up.

"Now they know I'm gonna throw those things...."

"And he just goes..."

"Actually they were wonderful I must say, I'm sorry."

"One in a million maracas and I'm never gonna get them back." Roger whined. I slowly stepped further in the dressing room to see Fred sitting down in his green and gold robe getting unwind from the performance while Roger continued to pace around muttering about his maracas while Brian and John were adjusting the sleeves on their normal clothes.

Freddie continued to talk about the maracas and that's when I picked up on Brian saying.

"You can throw me in the audience." Freddie stood up and he said.

"You don't...you don't rattle as good." That's when he looked over and he must've seen me because his eyes went wide briefly and his face turned solemn. Brian then turned around and he saw me as well hiding in the corner.

"(Y/n)?" everyone soon turned their attention towards me.

"Hey guys, long—time no see, ehh?". Knowing of my story, the assistants, makeup people and roadies all left the dressing room leaving me alone with Queen.

The four men stood before me and neither of us spoke until I finally broke the ice.

"I—I'm really sorry I just left guys I.....I was stupid, selfish, and you guys didn't deserve me at all. I just—I was lost and I know that's no excuse but—you guys didn't deserve to have a broken girl hanging off you just as you were finally about to rise to fame. And now look at you all, famous on pretty much every country, our own home country finally recognizing your talents. If I had stayed I would've just dragged you four down and—" I trailed off as Deacy was the first to stand before me.

Mr. King of the one liners, I've witnessed firsthand of him breaking people with just one phrase or sentence. I could only imagine what he was going to say to me after all this time. You get on John Deacon's bad side and he'll make you know it, for life.

But I was shocked when he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into a comforting hug. I was frozen but it wasn't until I heard him say.

"You are anything but what you just called yourself poppet." I slowly began to relax as I buried my face into Deacy's chest and wrap my arms around him. I felt him pet down my head much like he did at the funeral and allowed me to let out a couple of tears.

"We understand you needed to process your grief (y/n). We're not mad at you for leaving us." Said Brian. I looked up towards the spaceman guitarist and that's when Roger spoke up.

"But we are disappointed of the way you shut us out for two years." His tone wasn't anger filled or upset, but it did have that disappointing tonality. I lowered my head in shame and I muttered.

"I know."

"We were willing to be there for you in any way you needed. Even if it was just to sit there in silence. We wouldn't have hounded you darling because you didn't need that. It would've been nice to hear your voice again, just to see that you were okay." Said Freddie.

"I'm really sorry guys. I—I came to ask if you'd forgive me." They remained silent and deliberated with each other just by looking at each other and that's when Brian came up and cupped each side of my face.

"There's nothing to forgive love." I felt my lip tremble and I choked out a sob. Soon enough I was once again for the first time in two years, in the middle of a Queen group hug.

I'm glad I chose to come here. I guess in a way it was my sister telling me that even though she was gone, she knew that I would be looked after by four amazing and loving big brothers to look after me for the rest of my days until the day comes when I pass on and be reunited with my best friend once again.

[grahamparrish]

Cat Spray For Mice Fabulous Useful Tips

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Amazon Cat Spray

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Cat Has Not Peed In 2 Days

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[femalechibiblogger]

Poyo Satou Character Bio (Poyopoyo Kansatsu Nikki)

Age: Unknown

Gender: Male

Family: Moe Satou (adoptive mother/owner), Hide Satou (adoptive brother/owner), Shigeru Satou (adoptive grandfather/owner)

Likes: Food, sleeping, Moe, Kuro, protecting the weak, sleeping on top of Hide at night, playing with Shigeru, scratching Hide’s stuff, catching small animals and insects...and also eating them.

Dislikes: Bullies, Hide messing with him, Moe being away, going to the vet, getting wet, food being stolen by other cats, hot weather.

Voice Actor: Ikue Otani

Description

Poyo is a mysterious, round cat who was found by a young woman named Moe Satou. Poyo is mysterious not only because of his round shape, but also because he is very agile and athletic despite his size. His past before living with the Satou Family is unknown, but he appeared to be a stray who lived in a sketchy part of the city. He lives on the Satou Family farm in the countryside of Japan.

Personality

Poyo is a chivalrous feline. Despite being a cat, he does not act like one most of the time. Poyo is very kind, caring, and protective towards both humans and animals. He is able to understand the people around him, showing just how intelligent he really is. Poyo is usually a serious cat, but he does have moments of being a prankster. He likes to mess with his other owner, Hide, and tends to get into fights with him from time-to-time. Poyo loves being spoiled by Moe, but does become annoyed whenever she compares other round things to Poyo. Poyo is admired and respected by both animals and humans, and is seen as a big brother/boss character. Despite his usually calm behavior, Poyo is afraid of lightning and the vet. 

Relationships

Moe Satou: Moe is a 22 year old woman who becomes Poyo’s owner. One night, after getting drunk at a party, Moe drunkenly walked through town and came across Poyo. She then fell asleep on him, as she had mistaken him for a pillow in her drunken state. The next morning, she woke-up and became enamored by Poyo’s, and decided to take him home with her. Moe-chan loves Poyo very much, which has lead to her to be obsessed with anything round. Poyo loves Moe-chan dearly, but he does become annoyed when she ignores him or keeps comparing other round things to him.

Hide Satou: Hide is Moe’s younger brother who is a 17 year old high school student. Poyo often treats Hide like his minion, causing him trouble whenever he has a chance. Hide and Poyo often fight each other for whatever reason. Despite this, the two do act like brothers...though Hide denies it out of embarrassment. Poyo likes to sleep on top of Hide at night, much to the latter’s dismay. Hide finds Poyo to be very mysterious, and often takes notes on this.

Shigeru Satou: Shigeru is the father of Moe and Hide. Shigeru is a strong, manly farmer whose strength has made him legendary amongst the countryside. Despite his tough and gruff demeanor, Shigeru has a soft spot for Poyo due to his cuteness. Shigeru loves his children greatly. He puts Hide through hard labor to make him tough, while he dotes on Moe and fears that she will get married someday. Shigeru loves to spoil and dote on Poyo.

Hana Sugita: Sugita is an elderly woman who is the Satou Family’s neighbor. Sugita is a very kind woman who gets along with the Satou Family very well. Sugita is the owner of a cat named Kuro, who is a little younger than Poyo. Sugita thinks that Poyo is a girl because her cat Kuro, who is a male, tries to mate with Poyo...who is also male. No one corrects her because of her innocent and naive nature. Sugita gets along well with Poyo and views him as a member of the Satou Family.

Kuro: Kuro is a cat who lives with Hana Sugita, the neighbor of the Satou Family. Kuro and Poyo met when Kuro was a kitten, after he was found and adopted by Sugita. After becoming an adult, it became clear that Kuro liked boys and viewed Poyo as his mate. Kuro often humps Poyo and tries to mate with him, though Poyo doesn’t seem to mind. Kuro becomes jealous if any female cats take interest in Poyo, and will not hesitate to intimidate his romantic rivals. It is unknown if Poyo actually feels the same way that Kuro does, but Poyo does seem to care about him, and is always there to protect him from bullies.

Maki Yamashita: Maki is a 17 year old girl who is one of Hide’s best friends. Maki is often hanging out with Hide and their other friend, Kouta. Maki sees Poyo as a cute cat and gets along with him well. Maki has a huge crush on Hide, which he is unaware of, and often uses walking her dog as an excuse to see him. There are hints that Hide may also have feelings for Maki, but is too shy to say anything. Maki has three older brothers, and her family owns a bakery.

Kouta Suzuki: Kouta is a 17 year old boy who is one of Hide’s best friends. Kouta does not interact out with Poyo as much, but he does give advice on photographing Poyo. Kouta has a crush on Moe, and often helps out at the Satou Family farm. Kouta has a hamster whom he loves dearly.

Yuka Tanaka: Yuka is a young woman who moved to the countryside alongside her husband, and became the Satou Family’s new neighbor. Yuka is a very kind woman who loves gardening, but she has a fear of animals and runs away at the sight of them...though her husband loves animals. After encountering Poyo in her garden, she thought he was a tsuchinoko (a mythical, round snake), and then she thought that he was going to evolve into a bird. Poyo is the first animal that she takes a liking to, which helps her get over her fear of animals. Poyo is bewildered by the fact that she thought he was a round snake.

Eri-chan: Eri-chan is an elegant cat whom Poyo saved from falling out a tree. When she first met Poyo, she slapped him in the face. But after he saved her life, Eri-chan developed romantic feelings for Poyo, and became Kuro’s rival. Eri-chan’s owners spoil her and call her a ‘princess’.

Gallery

Gifs

[itsfemaleengineermanagertip-blog]

Female engineer manager tips

It became obvious from the primary event when I took a PC programming magnificence in secondary school that it changed into one in every of most effective a handful couple of topics that truly energized me. At first, it become only an opportunity I become giving it a shot, yet I before long found out that designing turned into what I needed to study and are looking for after for my deep rooted vocation. The factor I cherish most approximately constructing is that there are boundless chances to do vital work and usually study. Here are a few female engineer manager tips.

There are in every case new advancements and styles with which to acclimate your self, just as better processes to manufacture some thing better. Toward the day's end, it's inconceivably satisfying seeing a notion trade into some thing full-size, certainly one of a kind and innovative.

After that underlying class in secondary faculty, I proceeded to get my Bachelor's certificates in Computer Engineering from the University of Mumbai and a Master's qualification in Computer Science from USC. I at that factor labored at a group of tech businesses, including, IBM, a beginning period journey startup as soon as within the past referred to as Triptrotting (currently Wist) and Myspace. In the lower back at the leading edge of my mind, be that as it may, the startup area become calling me — it become something about the success of shape, turning and downsizing that was example me.

I moved to San Francisco and joined YouNoodle, a SaaS degree for startup rivalries, as one of the early specialists. Following three years of in-your-face designing, that's the element that I needed to are trying to find after as my deep rooted vocation, I moved to item the board. I presently lead the object and designing organization. Despite the truth that I don't get the hazard to code like an architect does, I am immediately there with my institution, offering course and information.

To the volume analyzing software program engineering and filling in as a specialist are concerned, anyone realizes that the male to woman percentage is extremely slanted. The functions behind this have been ascribed to the whole thing from undeniable sexism and industry generalizations to the manner that the lack of girls is detaching in itself.

In spite of the truth that I haven't confronted direct segregation (thump on wooden) as a lady professional, there were unobtrusive things I've visible whilst running in past employments. Most pretty these included occasions in which I'd be not to mention for the "young guys membership." But as lengthy because it wasn't planned or had a bad effect expertly, I accredited of it … to some extent.

Get beyond the stereotyping and position yourself for an effective career in PC programming and building.

Moreover, and unfortunately, over and over I actually have encountered the now-basic response from a part of my companions. It's the equivalent incredible remark with out fail: "Gracious, no question about it?!" I might experience that being in Silicon Valley, wherein there are many female designers, my glad decree could not evoke this sort of response any further. Shockingly, and lamentably, regardless it does.

My answer to this has changed from outrage to perplexity, and now I'm in reality diverted. Nobody accepts that I'm a clothier, generally in mild of the reality that I am a female. Now, I recognize incredible people with truth about my calling and am glad to interrupt freed from their imprudent suppositions.

So what do you have to do to get past the stereotyping and function your self for a fruitful profession in PC programming and designing? Here are my pinnacle bits of know-how for the ones young girls obtainable who are hoping to assemble and hold a vocation in any STEM calling.

Concentrate On What You Love Doing. Regardless of whether or not it is shape gadgets, composing code, seeing things paintings or helping individuals, you ought to dependably progress inside the direction of what you're lively about (prosaic as that sounds, it is extremely legitimate). Disregard considering the assumptions of what someone in tech ought to resemble and resemble, in this kind of case that you cherish doing it, you'll probably do it nicely.

Be eager! Snatch every open door that comes your path. In Silicon Valley, and around the world, there are boundless open doors from tech how-tos and organizing occasions to notion rivalries and mentorship applications.

Discover A Workplace That Facilitates Growth For Women And Emphasizes Work/Life Balance. Vet an company even as meeting; pose inquiries, as an instance, who are the women inside the board? How does the building group examine and produce? You do not have to paintings simply with ladies to sense good. It's the business enterprise's way of existence and convictions that problem extra. My quick group is for the most component men, however YouNoodle by using and big advances and cultivates the improvement of women, so I feel extensively all round put. A tremendous deal of businesses of overdue are focusing on assorted range — earnings through that.

Discover A Mentor … Or Two Or Three. Having a teach goes far in supporting you make feel of what you need, a way to method undertaking your targets, the way to defeat problems and the sky is the limit from there. Tutors may be every person from individuals you regard and admire on your calling, to collaborators, cherished ones. I've seen that there's a actual bond among girls in this space, and that likens to a ton of assist and encouraging of improvement.

Step Away From The Built-In Imposter Syndrome. Act obviously. The sham sickness is energized by means of various matters — the well-known pay hollow, the sheer difference in numbers amongst male and girl companions in a similar field and a distinction in ranges of reality. I used to peer that my male partners could be regularly wonderful approximately popular while contrasted with my female friends, no matter the fact that their aptitudes and capacities were of a similar level.

I myself have felt the fraud disease kick in on unique activities, each whilst concentrating just as running. It took me some time to take a shot at my truth levels; but I did, and it has really helped me pass far.

Last, however positively not least, on the off risk that someone is treating you amateurishly (man or female), trade the circumstance. Persuade them to be accountable, or get out and into a advanced condition whilst you may. There will dependably be exclusive possibilities, and you merit the exceptional.

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[purple-urself]

Wild At Heart - A Kiribaku Zoo AU

So this is a tiny bit late, but I’m so proud to post my fic for the @takemyhandzine! This was such a great experience for me, thank you to everyone who took part in creating such an amazing project!

Title: Wild At Heart Rating: General Audiences Warnings: None Summary: "Technically, Eijirou isn’t actually supposed to be back here. It’s mainly reserved for keepers, vets, and sometimes security. But since him and Bakugou have been growing closer, Bakugou had for some reason decided Eijirou was trustworthy enough to accompany him. A terrible decision really, but one Eijirou appreciates nonetheless."

Or,

The one were Bakugou shows his caring side and Kiri swoons lol

READ IT ON A03

“And that concludes our Elephant talk for today!” Eijirou announces to the crowds of people gathered around the huge enclosure. “Thank you so much for listening! I’ll be hanging around for the next half an hour, if anyone has any further questions about the Hi Way herd, please don’t hesitate to ask. My next talk will be in the jaguar house at 3:30pm, so if that’s something you’re interested in I’ll see you there!”

Eijirou finishes his speech with a wave, stepping down from the podium and immediately turning off his head mic.

The crowd begins to chatter amongst themselves, and Eijirou takes the time to gaze across the desert terrain towards the creatures that lived within.

The Hi Way family were a herd of 7 Asian elephants, the youngest being only three weeks old. Little Anjan was trotting around in the sunshine, never straying far from his mother. Having a new baby at the zoo always boosted visitor numbers, and Eijirou couldn’t help but smile as he sees a man lift a little girl onto his shoulders for a better view of the calf.

“Excuse me.” The voice comes from his left, and Eijirou turns to find a boy, around the age of 12, with what seems to be his parents close behind.

“Hey!” Eijirou says enthusiastically, “Did you have a question for me?”

The boy glances back to his parents, who nod at him encouragingly. Eijirou smiles at him, and waits patiently.

“Well, um. I was just wondering, how much food they actually eat? ‘Cos they’re huge y’know?”

The boy holds his arms wide, as if imitating the size of an elephant, and Eijirou chuckles.

“It’s a really good question, and to be honest i’m not sure of the exact answer.” Eijirou tells the kid thoughtfully. “But what I do know is that they spend most of their time eating. Because they’re so big, they have to eat a lot of food so they get enough energy.”

The boy nods, as if agreeing with him.

“That makes sense I guess.”

“Was there anything else you wanted to ask?” Eijirou glances towards the parents questioningly.

“No, that was it.” The boy replies, going to grab his father’s arm to pull him towards the next animal.

“What do you say to him, Kouta?” The woman asks before the boy could run off.

“Thanks!” He shouts hastily before running off, parents trailing behind.

Eijirou smiles as he watches them go, before his attention is caught by another visitor, eager to learn more about the Hi Way herd.

Eijirou gets to the jaguar house a few minutes early, just in time to meet his favorite keeper at the back gate.

Bakugou doesn’t seem to notice him approach, instead focusing on the two big plastic containers he’s trying to balance in his arms.

“Dude!” Eijirou calls out, trying to get Bakugou’s attention. He succeeds, causing Bakugou to startle and fumble with the containers. Eijirou dashes forwards, catching them before they can fall.

“Dumbass, why would you shout me like that?” Bakugou growls at him, snatching his containers back from Eijirou.

“I was gonna offer to help! My huge manly muscles would finally be put to good use.” Eijirou flexes dramatically, and Bakugou rolls his eyes, cheeks turning slightly pink.

“I don’t need your muscles, just open the gate.”

Eijirou does, following Bakugou to the staff entrance of the building.

Technically, Eijirou isn’t actually supposed to be back here. It’s mainly reserved for keepers, vets, and sometimes security. But since him and Bakugou have been growing closer, Bakugou had for some reason decided Eijirou was trustworthy enough to accompany him. A terrible decision really, but one Eijirou appreciated nonetheless.

Bakugou puts both containers down on the stainless steel work surface, snapping on some latex gloves before going to open the lids.

“Please don’t tell me there’s something dead in those boxes.” Eijirou says in trepidation. Bakugou ignores him, reaching inside on if the containers and bringing out a whole dead chicken, feathers and all.

Eijirou wrinkles up his nose, looking away from the gorey sight.

“You’re the one who chooses to come in here, hair-for-brains.” Bakugou tells him. “I’m just doing my job.”

“I guess I’ll go and hang with Midoriya in the Education Center for ten minutes then.” Eijirou says innocently, turning on his heel to head for the door.

“I’ll be done in a minute, for fucks sake!”

Eijirou hides his grin.

With Bakugou still fiddling around with the dead chicken, Eijirou wonders into the next room, where there are two monitors showing grainy footage of the inside of the enclosure.

A closer look reveals Napo, their 11 year old golden-coated Jaguar, asleep on his favorite rock. Every once in a while his tail flicks outwards, but other than that he’s completely still.

Eijirou moves forward to flick through the 12 different camera feeds stationed around various sections of the enclosure. He finds Goshi after a good few minutes of searching. She’s always harder to spot owing to her pitch black fur, but eventually he sees her tucked away underneath a rock, overhanging a small stream that runs through the outdoor section of the enclosure.

She’s always been the shy one of the two, but it’s become more prominent since falling pregnant.

Or so Eijirou was told, he’d only started working for the zoo three months ago, which was around the time Bakugou and the vets guess that she might have gotten pregnant. She was due any day now, which seemed to be making Bakugou nearly as illusive as Goshi herself.

The keeper had been spending most of his time with the jaguars over the past week, Eijirou had noted. He also had the zoo vets on call, ready to help out with the birth at a moments notice.

His phone started to beep at him, signalling the alarm he’d set two minutes before his show was to start. He goes back into the main room, Bakugou wiping down the counters with the prepared food inside each of the tubs again.

“I’ve gotta go.” Eijirou tells him, gesturing towards the door. “But I’ll see you after?”

“Yeah,” Bakugou mumbles before looking up. “I’ll be feeding them separately again, Goshi inside and Napo outside.”

Eijirou nods at the info, knowing he’ll need it for his talk later.

“Awesome, see you later.”

Eijirou waves a quick goodbye before heading to the front of the enclosure.

There’s a barrier surrounding the enclosure looking across a small revine, on the other side of which is a forested area, complete with a running stream. There are a few small trees dotted around, and a huge wooden tree trunk, which was basically a glorified scratching post.

There’s already a small crowd gathered around the enclosure, but it doesn’t seem like any of them has spotted Goshi in the shadows.

As if hearing his thoughts, Goshi emerges from her hiding spot beneath the rocks, which causes quite a stir amongst the onlookers. There’s a flurry of camera snaps before she disappears inside. He can hear some of the visitors complain about how quickly she disappears, which makes Eijirou roll his eyes. Some people that visit the zoo don’t really understand that the animals actually have a choice whether they want to be seen or not. This isn’t some circus that forces them to perform. It’s a place to keep endangered animals safe, and to help increase populations of at-risk species.

Eijirou quickly steps up to the small podium to the side of the viewing area, putting on his head mic, and flicking it on.

“Not to worry folks, that’s not the last jaguar you’re going to see today!” He starts, trying to appease the grumbling crowd. “My Name is Kirishima Eijirou and I’m going to be telling you some fascinating facts about our jaguars today!”

Eijirou goes through his basic introduction for the jaguars, spouting off facts about their habitat and biology, keeping a close eye on the enclosure for any sign of movement.

He spots Bakugou not long after, striding into the enclosure, bringing with him the dead chicken from earlier carried on top of a long pole.

“And as you can see here, not a jaguar but just as scary, our keeper Bakugou Katsuki will be feeding Napo some lovely raw chicken.” He gets a few chuckles from the audience. “Keeper Bakugou will be putting the chicken right at the top of our 20ft scratch post.”

Bakugou does as Eijirou describes, using the pole to hook the chicken right at the top of the trunk.

“You might think this is a little cruel of the keepers, putting the food so out of reach from our Jaguar, but as you’ll see in a moment, getting the food down from that height will be no problem for him.”

Bakugou retreats from the enclosure, and Eijirou begins to tell the crowd about their two Jaguars.

“Napo, the Jaguar being fed here today, is our male jaguar. He’s 11 years old, and has the classic gold fur colouring with black rosettes. Goshi is our female jaguar, slightly younger than Napo at 10 years old. Some of you may have caught a glimpse of her just before my talk began. She has a black coat, though if you were to look really close, you’d still be able to see the black rosettes along her fur. Goshi is also expecting some cubs, so she’s going to be fed separately to make sure she gets enough to eat.”

Eijirou can see some of the crowd's attention being shifted from him back towards the enclosure, and sure enough, he looks over to find Napo slinking into view. He allows the crowd to chat amongst themselves for a moment .

“So here’s Napo, and as you can see, he’s opening his mouth and scrunching his nose slightly, which is, believe it or not, how he scents the air. He’s sniffing around, and he can already tell there’s food somewhere inside the enclosure.”

Napo slowly creeps towards the tree trunk, keeping an eye on the chicken at the top.

“He won’t run up and grab the food right away, like a house cat, he’ll look around for any danger or competition, and get ready to pounce when he feels like the time is right.”

As if on cue, Napo bounds towards the trunk at top speed, using his claws to drag himself up the bark. The crowd gasp at the display, camera shutters going off wildly.

The jaguar grips the chicken by the teeth, pulling it free, then leaping gracefully back to the ground. The crowd applaud, which Eijirou never understands because it only causes the animals to spook, but Napo seems to ignore them.

He settles down with his meal, ripping off chucks of meat clutched between his paws.

Eijirou finishes off the talk with some key facts about jaguar conservation, and how the audience could help with saving the planet, one recycled plastic bottle at a time.

After answering questions on the jaguars, Eijirou makes his way to the back rooms again, finding Bakugou hovering over the security footage, watching Goshi tear apart her own chicken.

“How’s she doing?” Eijirou asks when Bakugou doesn’t acknowledge his presence.

“She’s eating fine.” He says, not looking away, “Which is good. She seems comfortable, so I don’t think it’ll be today.”

“How will you be able to tell?” Eijirou enquires curiously.

“She’ll become restless, start pacing. She might even get aggressive with Napo, though they’ve been together for so long I don’t think that’ll happen.”

Eijirou nods to himself, not commenting, content on watching the jaguar consume her ‘prey’.

Bakugou lets Napo back inside once she’s done, and they both seem to settle down together, laying on a heated rock right next to the visitor viewing area. This gets quite a reaction from the crowd gathered in front of the glass, Kirishima can see camera flashes going off through the security feed.

“Are you staying?” Bakugou asks him, making his way to the small staffroom out back.

“I have a few minutes.” Eijirou replies, checking his phone. He trails after Bakugou, taking a seat at the tiny table in the corner of the room, whilst Bakugou makes them both coffee. Eijirou takes the mug gratefully, blowing on it before taking a sip.

Bakugou settles in the seat opposite, grabbing about 10 packets of sugar and dumping them all in his mug. Eijirou watches him wearily.

“That can’t be good for you.”

“Does it look like I give a shit?” Bakugou mumbles, stirring in the monstrous amounts of sugar.

“It kinda does.” Eijirou laughs. Bakugou frowns at him, so he continues, “No one looks as good as you do without caring about their health.”

Bakugou’s eyes widen slightly, and Eijirou can feel himself beginning to blush.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Eijirou scrambles for an explanation. “J-Just that you’re super buff!” He flexes a bicep as an example. “There’s no way those muscles of yours are natural.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes, but Eijirou can tell he’s trying not to grin.

“I go to the gym, yeah.” He admits, “So that means I can have 10 sugars in my coffee and you’re not allowed to judge me for it.”

“I’m still judging you.” Eijirou tells him, trying not to let out a smile.

Bakugou snorts derisively. He opens his mouth to retort, but is interrupted by Eijirou’s phone.

“Ah, shit.” Eijirou plucks his phone out of his pocket, swiping the alarm off. “Five minutes until the penguin talk, I gotta run!”

Bakugou nods in understanding, and Eijirou swigs the rest of his coffee as he gets to his feet.

“I’ll see you at lunch tomorrow?” Bakugou asks him, frowning at his half-empty mug.

“Yep, usual time and place!” Eijirou confirms. He puts his empty mug in the sink, then rushes out of the room with a backwards wave, “See ya tomorrow!”

The next day starts as normal, a team briefing in the morning, followed by assignments. Eijirou has a Meerkat talk first thing, which is always great because the kids really get a kick out of them. Next is the Komodo dragon, then the Chimpanzees. By the time he answers all the questions the audience has for him, Eijirou realises he’s running late for his lunch with Bakugou.

He makes it to the staff cafeteria 5 minutes late, glancing around, trying to spot the familiar spiky blond hair and annoyed scowl. He doesn’t see Bakugou anywhere, and after a few more minutes of searching, he realises Bakugou isn’t even there.

Maybe he’s running late, like Eijirou had been? It’s uncommon, but not unheard of. He knows Bakugou gets caught up in work, and tends not to notice irrelevant things like ‘time’.

He decides the grab a sandwich, taking a seat close to the window so he’d be able to see Bakugou approach.

He starts eating by himself, scrolling through his phone as he does so. He’s finished his sandwich when he glances at the time again. Bakugou is now 20 minutes late.

Eijirou bites his lip, wondering if he’d done anything to offend Bakugou, or if he was just late. Or maybe he’d arrived on time, and couldn’t be bothered to wait for Eijirou to show up. The thought makes him frown, hoping that wasn’t actually the case.

He opens the messenger app on his phone, shooting off a text to Bakugou asking if he was held up. Eijirou hopes there’s nothing seriously wrong.

As soon as Eijirou turns up to the Jaguar talk, he realises why Bakugou had stood him up.

There’s a sign just outside the Jaguar house, directing visitors away, due to ‘unforeseen circumstances’.

Goshi must have had her cubs.

Eijirou grins at the thought, full of excitement over the new arrivals. He contemplates going through the back door, wanting to see for himself, be he knows that it’s a bad idea. There’s probably other keepers and vets hanging around, and he doesn’t want to get in the way. He decides he’ll wait to hear from Bakugou before attempting to visit.

Eijirou plucks his radio from his belt, informing his supervisor of the situation. Aizawa tells him to go help out in the education centre for an hour before resuming his planned talks.

When Eijirou comes into work the next day, he isn’t sure what to expect.

He’d gotten home just after sunset the day before, calling his moms as he made dinner for himself. They were the same as usual, asking about the animals and his friends in and out of work. He’d moved cities specifically for this job, so he really missed being able to see both of his moms everyday.

He answered their questions, staying on the line even as he was eating his dinner. After hanging up, he had a quick shower before heading to bed.

It was when he was checking his phone right before falling asleep that he finally heard back from Bakugou.

“Sorry for not replying sooner. Goshi had the cubs.”

Attached to the message was a picture of Goshi, curled into a ball, fast asleep. He was able to make out tiny ears and paws poking out of Goshi’s larger frame. Eijirou felt his heart melt at the image, wanting to meet the cubs desperately.

“Congratulations!!” he types out, “You’re going to be an amazing Father ;)”

It only took a few moments for Bakugou to reply.

“I was going to let you meet them tomorrow, but now I’m not sure you deserve it.”

Eijirou gripped his phone tighter and grinned at the snarky response.

“Haa, that’s mean Bakugou! I’m gonna be a great mom to those cubs, just you wait.”

“First of all, you’re not actually allowed to take care of them, that’s my job.”

Eijirou snorted, but didn’t reply, waiting for Bakugou to finish typing.

“Second, they already have a mom, idiot.”

Eijirou maked a face, typing out his response.

“I have two moms, and I turned out just great :P”

“Damn fine, you can meet them tomorrow.”

Eijirou smiles at the thought of being able to meet the Jaguar cubs today. He heads to the staff briefing, arranging with his supervisor to change his break time so it coincides with when the Jaguar talk was meant to happen. Aizawa stares at him when he makes the request, but ends up shrugging his shoulders and telling him to “do what you want, as long as you work the proper hours,” which is fine with Eijirou.

He gets through his animal talks, replacing his usual lunch break with a session about their herd of black rhinos. He is gets more and more antsy as the day goes on, quietly admitting to himself that maybe it wasn’t just the cubs he was excited to see.

As soon as Eijirou’s lunch break arrives, he practically sprints to the cafeteria, grabbing himself and Bakugou a sandwich. He has no idea when the last time Bakugou ate was, but knowing him, he’d likely sacrifice his break time in order to look after the cubs.

Eijirou gets to the Jag house, opening the back gate and knocking impatiently at the door. He waits for a couple of minutes, about to call Bakugou, but the door eventually swings open to reveal the man himself.

Bakugou looks as if he hadn’t slept in days, with dark circles under his eyes and hair more of a mess than usual. He’s smiling though, which is a rare sight, and Eijirou can’t help but smile back.

“Mama’s here to see his children.” He tells Bakugou, who rolls his eyes, beckoning him inside.

The kitchen area is a bit of a mess, with feeding equipment littered across the work space. Bakugou ignores the mess, leading him towards the security feed.

Eijirou gasps at the image; two tiny balls of yellow fluff in amongst a mountain of hey. They’re not moving, apart from a slight flick of the ears every minute or so.

“Have they got names yet?” He asks in a hushed voice, though he’s pretty sure the sleeping cubs can’t actually hear him.

“Not yet,” Bakugou tells him lowly, “Haven’t had much time to think about it.”

Eijirou nods, making a mental note to annoy Bakugou with texts of different names until he actually decides on two.

“Why aren’t they with their Goshi?” He asks curiously.

“They just got done with the vets. Weighed them and stuff.” Bakugou rubs the stubble just begging to grow at his jaw, “They seem healthy enough, but Goshi is refusing to let them feed.” Eijirou frowns but Bakugou continues before he can ask, “It’s pretty common with animals bred in captivity. We’re trying to get her to let them feed, but in the meantime they’ll be bottle fed.”

Eijirou nods in understanding, watching the two new arrivals for a couple more moments.

“Speaking of feeding, when was the last time you ate?”

Bakugou frowns, and Eijirou can tell he’s trying to remember if he forgot to eat lunch.

“I guess this morning?”

Eijirou shakes his head, glad he had the forethought to buy some food for Bakugou as well as himself.

“You’re lucky to have such a great friend like me taking care of you.” He tells Bakugou jokingly, leading him out of the security office and towards the staffroom. This time it’s Eijirou making them both a coffee, whilst Bakugou rips open the sandwich and begins to eat. Eijirou dumps ten sugar packs in Bakugou’s coffee, placing it down in front of him.

“Black coffee, with enough sugar to make even you turn sweet.” Eijirou winks and Bakugou flips him off, mouth too full to verbally cuss him out.

Eijirou laughs at his response, sitting down to dig in to his own food. Bakugou tells him about the day before, coming into work to find Goshi in labour but not yet given birth. He had called the vet just incase of any complications, but leaving Goshi alone was the best thing to do.

“Got home late, and I couldn’t really sleep anyway.” Bakugou ruffles the hair at the back of his neck awkwardly. “Ended up getting here at six this morning, just to check on them.”

Eijirou’s eyes flicker down to the empty mug in front of Bakugou. “You want a refill?” he asks, gesturing to it with a grin.

“I’ve had… more than I care to admit already.” Bakugou grimaces and Eijirou bites his lip hesitantly.

“You need to look after yourself better dude.” He says seriously. Bakugou waves him off, and Eijirou drops the subject. He knows that this is a stressful time for Bakugou, and as much as he jokes about it, Bakugou does kind of exude the aura of a new father, complete with wrinkled clothes and too much coffee.

They clear up their lunch, heading back to the main room, Bakugou fiddling around with the milk bottles before handing one over to Eijirou. He stares at it for a second, taking it slowly from Bakugou’s grip.

“Are you serious?” He asks astonished.

“If you ever tell anyone I let you feed them, I’ll kill you.”

“I promise! It’ll be our secret.” Eijirou pretends to zip his mouth shut and throw away the key.

“Oh good, finally some peace and quiet around here.”

Eijirou mock gasps, slapping Bakugou lightly in retaliation.

They both wash their hands and snap on a pair of rubber gloves, before Bakugou leads him towards the other room, and Eijirou feels a slight wave of nervousness. He’s never actually been inside the enclosure before. Or any enclose for that matter.

“Are you sure the Napo and Goshi are locked outside?” He asks as Bakugou opens to first door, closing it straight after them.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Bakugou opens the second door, allowing Eijirou to slip inside and locking it behind them.

From here, Eijirou can see the tiny balls of fluff beginning to stir. He steps closer, watching them roll around, tiny paws flailing in the air.

“Oh my God.” He says softly, not being able to express in words how adorable they were.

“Yeah.” He glances at Bakugou, who is looking at the cubs with an expression Eijirou had never seen before. He felt his heart rate speed up at the soft expression on Bakugou’s face. “Come on, they’re probably hungry.”

Bakugou sweeps them both into his arms, and one of them lets out a tiny squeak. Eijirou has to cover his mouth to keep from gasping out loud at how cute that was.

Bakugou settles down in amongst the leaves and foliage of the enclosure, gesturing for Eijirou to join him.

“It’s not that much different from holding a house cat.” Bakugou tells him, placing the tiny cub in his lab, “For now, anyway.”

Eijirou nods, putting down the milk bottle he was still carrying to pick the little guy up. He couldn’t really feel the fur underneath the rubber gloves, but he could tell it was soft and fluffy. The cub waves his paws in the air, mewling softly.

“I’m gonna call you Katsuki.” He decides and Bakugou huffs beside him.

“That’s not going to be his name.” He says, but Eijirou just shrugs.

They start feeding the cubs, who drink the milk out of the bottle with ease. Bakugou tells him it’s important for them to drink it all to stay as healthy as possible, so Eijirou makes sure his cub has every last drop.

“They’re so precious.” Eijirou says as he pets the cub, who is trying to grab at his gloves. He glances over at Bakugou, who is trying to coax his own fluff-ball out from under his legs. He manages to get ahold of her, laying her gently on his forearm so he can pet her against his chest.

Eijirou can feel his heart stop at the sight. Bakugou being so gently and caring apparently makes him go a little crazy.

“You should- I mean we should.” Eijirou tries to get out his words whilst he has the courage. “We should like. Do something after work.”

Bakugou looks up from the cub, quirking an eyebrow at him. “Do something.”

Eijirou feels his cheeks flood we heat, and quickly amends himself.

“Like a movie or food or something.”

“A date?” Bakugou is staring at him now, and Eijirou can feel his confident evaporating by the second.

“Yeah. You know, if you want. Or something.”

Bakugou looks back at the cub in his arms, and Eijirou can feel the rejection coming, except he notices the slight flush on Bakugou’s cheeks, and the small smile tugging at his lips.

[witchfall]

the silver lining still remains: ch. 8

what hides in ephemera

SUMMARY: He looks at her and he understands, all at once, why Markus paints.

A Connor x F!OC fanfic. Read on AO3. master post.

((sorry mobiles…there IS a read more!))

---

Emma is bundled in a black car with two UN officers and Simon. Connor watches as they drive away down the idyllic cobblestone driveway in the back of the house, hand up in farewell, mouth pressed into a line. He swears he can see Emma watching him through the back window, her brown eyes like two points of warmth, until the car is far down the road. But perhaps it is wishful thinking. A useless process. A dangerous one.

[MISSION FAILURE] [MISSION FAILURE] [MISSION FAILURE]

Markus…

She’s under our protection now. We don’t have a choice.

Don’t make me leave her alone.

She won’t be alone. But we’re going to need you. And you can’t put that on her.

[MISSION ACCEPTED: REDIRECT EFFORTS TOWARD INVESTIGATION]

[MISSION ACC*&$&^^????/////]

[INTERFERENCE DETECTED.]

                        Emma is not an interference.

Your people are depending on you.

Don’t you remember? The nothing you feared...once so long ago on a winter’s night...it was there. It was in that android’s eyes.

[MOVE.]

He remembers beginning to walk. He does not recall the journey. He is suddenly at the conference table in House Manfred mid-conversation, Markus standing before the group, talking of press statements and political strategy, silhouetted by the rising sun.

Abel is close to getting what he wants and all you can do is watch her leave.

“We arrange an op,” North says, as if that settles everything.

“We’re under extreme scrutiny right now,” Josh counters. “We can’t afford to do anything under the table.”

Connor can’t stop parts of his body from moving. His leg bounces in his chair. His fingers twist and twist and twist together...

“What are we supposed to do?” North’s voice, pitching higher. “We can’t wait. He’s already made his first move. He’ll just keep making everything worse !”

Markus raises his hands in conciliation. Connor nearly jolts out of his chair when he realizes Markus has been watching him this whole time.

“What does he want?” he asks Connor. “Does he just hate us? I mean, what’s the apparent leverage here?”

“Ms. Cho believed it may have had something to do with Emma’s parents and their knowledge of Genesis Biotech,” he says as if by rote. “A Project Nazirite that may or may not exist.”

Something triggers his lie detector -- it’s the closest process that makes any sense. Hank would perhaps call it a hunch. Because Emma’s made it clear that she knows next to nothing about what her parents would have done, and nothing about her life screams “hoarding secrets” other than the itinerant life she inherited. Can Abel truly afford to risk everything for a daughter that may know nothing at all?

That can’t be it, can it?

That can’t be the only reason he’d inflict this horrorshow on everyone?

“Well, that doesn’t...help us,” Markus admits. “We need more information before we act. Josh, what’s the schedule?”

Josh lists appearances on television networks, interviews with approved press outlets and the potential delaying of the Remembrance Ceremony. The to-do list is long. The day has barely begun -- or perhaps it’s never ended, still tripping over yesterday’s track, skipping like one of Hank’s old tape decks, over and over and over.

Carisa’s autopsy. Examining their cyber defenses. Triple vetting Emma’s new UN guards. Calling Kamski about the androids…

He thinks of the darkness in their gazes, the nothingness, the disappearance of who they might have been, and fear rips his processors apart.

It sounds like Carisa’s dying shrieks. It sounds like Emma, screaming no.

---

The guards, somewhat obvious in white and dark blue, hover just outside Valerie’s office at the old Detroit municipal center, small but white-bright and warm, lined with thin windows -- a hold over from an older era. Colorful cross stitch patterns peek over the shelves behind the desk, spouting various ironic phrases, including one framed with tulips that said “When life shuts a door, open it again, that’s how doors work.”

Valerie watches, a perfectly manicured hand tapping her dark-tawny cheek, as anger simmers around Emma like exhaust fumes.

Everything is all wrong, now, but no one expects her to do anything except...wait. Answers feel just out of her reach. Her group, her Corps , is completely thrown under the bus by some freak, likely the same freak who stole Raina’s life away and prompted Carisa’s brain to melt out of her skull, and she’s left to muddle through it, wordless and tired, without Connor.

And now...

“So all that work I did was for nothing, after all,” Emma mutters. Her frustration strains the edge of her voice.

“I said the ceremony is delayed, not cancelled.” Valerie’s thin gold bracelets chime as she gestures to a chair in front of her desk for the third time. Emma shakes her head. Valerie casts an unreadable look to Simon, who hangs by the window.

“It’s on the same day as Veteran’s Day, anyway, so we’d been talking of choosing a different date to prevent...battle with other emotional displays of patriotism,” Simon says, voice dry.

“That’s not why,” Emma says flatly, unable to look at either of them. “You’re letting him win.”

Valerie narrows her eyes. “Sweetheart, sit down before I write you up.”

Emma glares at the floor but she complies, flopping into the plush magenta chair before Valerie’s desk. She has at least enough sense not to put her job in jeopardy because she was feeling flighty. But only just enough. “We can’t just do nothing.”

“We’re not doing nothing,” Valerie says. Her tone is pointed, even for her city-born sharpness. “But we can’t do something half-baked. Don’t be stupid with me, honey.”

Emma crosses her arms to hold it all in, thinking of the chaos. And though she feels the same pressing desperation filling her lungs that she’s felt for weeks on weeks on weeks, the same strange desolation from being shunted off for her own supposed safety, she pushes her tongue to the top of her mouth and says nothing at all. She can’t stop hearing Carisa screaming in her head.

“What we need is a more immediate and individual way to signal our unity,” Simon says, as ever seeking the common ground. “And that may mean we just keep working hard. Setting up a good foundation.”

“That won’t keep the kids’ morale up,” Valerie admits, pulling a tablet to her desktop. “We gotta spin it better than that. And that still leaves Emma with nothing to do.”

“What about the HAIT?” Emma says. Her unlicensed dalliances with the HAIT are fodder for jokes amongst the Corps, but Valerie doesn’t even crack a smile and Emma doesn’t feel much like joking, anyway.

“What about it?” Valerie asks, eyes still on her tablet.

Emma taps the arm of the chair. “We’ve not really done as much as we could with it.”

“We haven’t had much time to experiment with it,” Simon says, tone neutral.

Humans and androids. What do they offer each other?

What does she do for Connor?

“And the name...I mean, it’s all there. Human-Android interfacing,” she says into the quiet. “I could help with that. I’m already approved--”

Valerie sets the tablet down suddenly and turns her gaze, dark as mahogany, on Emma. “Do you really think you are in a state to use the damn HAIT, Emma?”

Emma leans back in her chair. “What? Yeah--”

“You’ve barely been sleeping, I can see it in your face.” Valerie’s expression is hard as tiger’s eye. “You really wanna take on everyone else’s problems on top of that?”

Something inside her starts shivering. “It’s easier when it’s not me,” she says, shocked into truth by Valerie’s blunt nature. “And you know I understand it. I’m not a counselor but--”

“Exactly, and that’s reason enough I should say no,” Valerie snaps. She sighs, perhaps noticing the crack that forms in Emma’s facade. “...you haven’t had a thorough psych check by one of our own, for starters...”

“We have a number of androids who specialized in psychological evaluation looking for work,” Simon volunteers. “It may be good for you to speak with one, anyway, Emma.”

Emma sinks further into her chair when he says her name, finding it impossible to look into those giant icy eyes. They see everything. “If I do this,” Emma says, hardly able to believe her own words as they come out of her mouth, “and I go to a counselor, can I at least help test the HAIT?”

Valerie looks at her over tortoiseshell glasses. She’s silent for so long that Emma is sure she is about to point toward her office door. But then she relents.

“Something’s eatin’ you, honey,” she says, voice dangerously kind. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. But,” she says, lifting a hand to stop Emma, mouth open in protest, “I’ll keep it on the docket. For now. If you see someone.”

--

True to his word, Simon arranges Emma a meeting with a counselor. Same day.

She tries to drown her fear with determination. If she has to be treated like a bomb waiting to trigger, maybe, finally, she can do something useful while time ticks down.

The counselor is a lovely android woman named Natalie, with warm hazel eyes and blonde hair set in a soft wave. Her smile is perfectly charming and her voice utterly disarming. Her LED spins yellow a moment as she overlooks Emma’s Corps profile.

Emma presses her body firmly into the burgundy, itchy sofa, looking intently at the scraggly carpet of the back office of a Corps-established medical center. She plants her feet on the floor and thinks, pointedly, of her toes.

“I’m glad to see you, Emma,” Natalie says, with a tone of warm sincerity Emma can’t help but take seriously in turn. “Everything you say will be confidential. I’ll simply provide an answer to Corps regarding whether or not you are capable of using the HAIT devices.”

The questions start, and she’s struck by their familiarity. Where were you born? Somewhere not far from Detroit, actually. Where did you live? All over the map. How would you describe yourself? Hard-working, reliable, busy as fuck, honestly a little over this not-being-able-to-help situation, kind of helpless right now, generally, if we’re being real. Which I guess we are. Do you have any siblings? Not that I know of.

What was your relationship with your parents like? They were...my rock. Yes, they’re dead now. I was 18 when it happened. Yes, I still think about it… Do you have any living family? My aunt and uncle, but I’m not allowed to talk to them just yet. You know about all that, right? My whole...situation?

Natalie just nodded sweetly at that.

Tell me about your past experience with psychotherapy. Well...I had a grief counselor for a while after my parents died. And...when I was really young I had a therapist after I was adopted. I don’t remember a lot from it, though.

Suddenly, the questions stop. Natalie looks down at her tablet for a long moment. Emma clutches her knees at this unusual pause. It stretches, on and on.

“Emma, can you tell me your very first memory?”

Emma blinks, face burning, but she clears her throat and dives in: She’s six years old, “helping” bring groceries inside, when she drops the single thing she is carrying -- a goldenrod gallon of milk -- on the floor. It breaks instantly, splattering all over the linoleum in the kitchen. The bright trill of anxiety still rings as clear today as it did then: her abject fear that mom and dad would send her away forever for a simple mistake, like she had to prove her worth. She remembers her dad’s startled laugh at the sight, in fact. Little bug, it’s okay. Why are you crying over spilled milk?

Natalie nods down at her tablet a moment. “You know what is very interesting, Emma, is that that’s the same memory you told your counselors when you were seven years old.”

Emma’s blood turns to ice, even if the importance of that doesn’t slot in properly. “What’s interesting about that? How do you know that?”

“I found your old files from your last counselor. It took me a little searching.” Natalie leans back, face betraying no emotion, even as Emma feels the world stutter to a stop. “Memory loss from time is natural. It’s how human brains sort through information. So it would make sense that, at 26, that would be your clearest original memory. But at 7...one would expect you’d remember something from your time as a three-year-old, perhaps. But you never have.”

Her foot begins to tap against the floor. “Well, I was adopted. Mom and dad always said it was probably because of...foster care experiences or whatever. I was in therapy pretty much from when I can remember until about nine years old…”

Natalie nods, confirming this on her tablet. Her brow crinkles, the only emotional tell on her face. “Tell me about your experience with that.”

A memory comes shaking out of the dirt. “I, uh, used to have night terrors as a kid. And...a lot of phobias.” Lightning, crashing, screaming into a pillow, everything hurts. “And then I didn’t. I honestly...” She thinks back, as far as she can go, but it’s like trying to wipe tar off a window. “I don’t remember much of it. Just that it was.”

Natalie’s hazel eyes rest on Emma in a way that makes her lean into her chair, like she could see far back into her head -- all the way back, as far as the film will go. “There are notes in your record that point to hypnotherapy. Did you know about that?”

Emma gulps down the stilted air of the room and for a long moment, finds herself unable to speak.

“No. What’s it for?”

“It’s...controversial, but it has been historically used to help patients with various anxiety disorders walk through traumas that may underpin some of their worst anxious impulses. Some scholars in the field...though there are few...believe it could also be used to change your perception of an impulse, such as pain. But keep in mind that not all scholars agree that it does what it says it does.”

Emma settles back in her chair as the weight of this hits her. “Are you...sure?”

“Unless your record through the blockchain is lying, I am sure, yes. And if it is a lie, it’s a strange one.”

“But I don’t remember it.”

Natalie adjusts her legs, pinned together in a pencil skirt. “I know,” she says softly. “And that’s the part that confuses me the most. You’re supposed to be taught tools in hypnotherapy you can apply in your daily life. You’re supposed to remember it.”

“Maybe it’s just...one of those kid things,” Emma says, half-hearted, and her face falls when she sees Natalie’s pained, subtle frown.

“Maybe,” Natalie says.

The events of the past few days click by in her head. Electricity. Fire. The shadow of the company is long. They didn’t have friends. Two bright stars.

How much would remain outside her reach forever? What didn’t her parents want her to know?

“Can I get those memories back?”

Natalie’s LED spins a bright, solid yellow for a good 10 seconds. “I am trained in hypnotherapy, but there would be no guarantees whatsoever.”

“Let’s do it,” Emma says, not giving herself time to think.

“Hold on. It’s very important to consider, Emma…” Natalie extends a conciliatory hand outward. “There might be nothing there. Or maybe you forgot for a reason. Sometimes the brain does this to protect you, and there’s nothing to be gained from opening old wounds. You might just find pain.”

Emma shrugs. She’d been toeing the deep end of the pool of things she didn’t like ever since she got shot. “It’s better than the nothing I have.”

Natalie smiles so sadly that it sends chills through her spine. “It might not be.”

--

The cold settles on Connor’s sensors, just like before, snow sharpening the silhouette of the house like before. There is a human saying about this feeling, this unease settling in the pit of his abdomen, on the back of his neck -- it all makes one hairs stand on end.

Elijah Kamski’s smirk (holding out a gun like so, the Kamski test, he says, like it means something to Connor) is an etching out of ash -- the dark remains of a flashbomb on his memory cores that comes from a center point: this geometric block of obsidian etched into the lakeside landscape that Kamski calls a home.

[&^&^*INSTABILITY]

An important distinction separates this visit from the last: Elijah called them to him.

No offense, Connor, but do you think DPD’s Cybercrime Division has the best encryption protection money can buy? On the city’s dime? Doubtful.

“Our maker lives here, huh,” Josh says. He holds his limbs close to his body despite not feeling the cold. “It looks like a bunker for the end of the world.”

But Kamski’s facilities for technological study, tucked into an underground laboratory lit by diffused blue light, are indeed top of the line. Kamski gestures toward the set up, allowing Josh access to the various haptic panels connected to a clear tube. Empty glass tubes of various sizes, all the way to something that could fit something the size of an android, line the wall.

Josh shuts up. Connor’s doubts intensify.

Carisa’s brain implant sits in the attached tube -- clear of blood and brain matter, but still caked with a strange kind of rust. Charring? A vague resistance repulses his programming from scanning it directly.

Twilight had barely set in and somehow Kamski had pulled enough strings to prompt an expedited autopsy and forward that evidence directly to his home -- with Connor’s express approval, of course, but…

It all sits wrong, like puzzle pieces jumbling in a plastic bag.

Kamski’s interest could be explicitly business. The situation with the blue blood patent would be aggravating for any sharp-eyed inventor. But Kamski, who is usually never without his advantage, takes a strange tack these days. Showing up in public. Taking at least a feigned interest in android welfare. This…

“What do you get out of this?” Connor asks the man. Kamski, understated in a maroon v-neck and dark jeans, stands to the side, arms crossed in front of his chest. He looks askance to Connor. Something deeply dark flickers there.

“Well, Detective, ” he says, spitting out Connor’s role, pushing him back with formality, “I’ve been doing some searching of my own. Some remembering.”

Connor raises an eyebrow. “Explain.”

Kamski looks away, far off into elsewhere. “In 2022, we were looking to expand...and one company in dire straits came to me. I was 20 years old and thought I knew everything. Even more than I do now.” A snort. “We took them all in. Hired them for their biotech expertise, took their warehouse and started developing androids for mass production right here in Detroit…”

[CONSTRUCTING...]

[PROFILE COMPLETE.]

Connor takes a step toward Kamski. “Genesis Biotech.”

“They were calling themselves something else, then,” Kamski says. “Jubilee Technologies, I think. But I asked Josh to look into it for me and my suspicion was right. They shared many of the same executives, one of which is still on the Cyberlife board, today. Even with the state it’s in.”

Josh continues to work on the computer interface.

“Either someone turned on me and pulled one of the longest cons of recent memory to create a poor reconstruction of my thirium recipe,” Kamski continues. “Or I sheltered something else.” A pointed look at the implant, stained with human effluence.

Connor struggles to reconcile this man with the one who was willing to risk Chloe’s death -- the same Chloe he kindly asked to remain upstairs. “What if it has nothing to do with you?” Connor asks, sharper than he expects. “You left Cyberlife.”

Another snort from Kamski. But then he frowns, like he’s watching a memory tinged with blue -- like a ghost is waiting when he shuts his eyes. “Everything with androids has something to do with me.” His frown turns into a dark smirk, and that flash of melancholy is gone.

“Holy shit,” Josh says -- the first exclamation from him since he began his work. “I’m finally in.”

Connor and Kamski both gather around his navy dark interface as white code begins to cross the screen. “Holy shit…” Josh says again, but his tone shifts downward -- from excited curiosity to horror in an instant.

Kamski blinks a few times, brows furrowing in annoyance. “I’m not sure what you’re seeing here.”

“Are those old firewall scripts?” Connor asks.

“Yes...okay. You might want to be sitting down for this one, Connor,” Josh says, but Connor finds this notion ridiculous and does not move. Luckily, it appears to be only an expression. “She had access to all of our data at some point...I’m trying to work backward on access logs.”

All of our data?

“Including everything on Emma’s case? On all the disappearances?” Connor presses. All of their careful investigations into the fake companies, all of their studies on the taken androids, all of their notes on Emma’s status and where she is living...

“Yes. I...oh god.” Josh steps back from the computer a moment, and Connor feels a deep, instantaneous thrum of red-hot energy sweep his systems. What? What? Kamski, too, leans inward, looking like an iceberg 2.3 seconds away from angrily snapping apart.

“From what I can tell,” Josh continues, “Carisa had figured out we were doing some intel on her through some base trolling of our datastreams, so she dug deeper. That’s why I was seeing more data sweeps. That’s why she approached Emma. I think she knew we were onto her, and she knew her...business partner wanted Emma for some reason, so she decided to act on her own accord. To find a better deal.”

“A solid analysis.” Connor does his best to keep his impatience out of his tone.

Josh points to his lines of code. “So at some point she goes back and does some reconnaissance of her own on Genesis Biotech, pulling up all sorts of old files. Old addresses, personnel…”

“That must have been when she summoned the information on the tablet,” Connor says, unsure where he’s going with this.

“But when she did that--” Josh points to a particularly angry line of code that makes both Connor and Kamski recoil slightly. Clear signs of firewall breakage. “Someone got the message and started hacking back, using that connection she’d formed with the data streams to take info from her, instead. All of what Carisa saw on our stuff.” Josh puts a hand up. “I cannot say enough how impressive this hacking is. It’s insanely good. Nigh impossible access to wetware and almost at an instant. Someone that knew about her and likely had warning triggers on that information. Even top of the line hackers couldn’t get this far without that insight.”

The reconstruction sequence begins in his head. Blocks form, fast-forwarding through time, space, backward, forward...

“Abel,” Connor breathes.

“But why didn’t he just do that before?” Kamski presses, cool and logical. “Why wait, in that case? He clearly had the androids trailing her.”

“The announcement,” Connor says. “He saw an opportunity to sow resentment. But why wait until the moment of truth?”

“Wetware interfaces are banned for a reason,” Kamski explains. “They’re hard to hack because bizarre organic connections start forming that literally no one can explain or predict properly. But any hacking that does break through can threaten the entire organic function.”

Josh points to where the coding abruptly ends. “A dump began here, like a hard reset, but it didn't complete. That action plus the android electrocuting her must have literally overloaded her system.” A horrified pause. “Melted her brain.”

“That’s what the autopsy confirms,” Kamski mutters.

“He literally threw her away!” Josh says, aghast. “Just to make a point?”

Kamksi shrugs, a put-upon act of nonchalance that his widened eyes betrays. “That's business for you.”

But Connor can say nothing else. He feels a realization wrapping tightly around his throat.

Abel knows.

He doesn’t just know Carisa betrayed him. He knows they’re on his trail. He knows everything they know about the investigation. He knows where Emma is being kept.

He knows everything.

--

I don't want to leave my friend, momma.

I know, baby, I know. But you want to go on an adventure, right? We’re going to see the whole world.

Her mother's hands are soft and warm against her cheeks, thumbs rubbing her cheekbones. Sterile white light shines just beyond her mother's round face, her big brown eyes, her smile that makes Emma’s whole heart yearn for the sun. For a hug. She reaches her small arms outward.

Only if Momma and Dadda are there.

Momma picks her up off the ground and squeezes her so tightly she forgets to breathe. Forgets the fear squeezing all of her insides. Forgets everything that's ever hurt her, if only for a moment.

I love you so much, baby girl.

Love you more, Emma says, certain.

Momma pokes Emma’s nose. Let's go find Dadda. Remember our secret?

Emma.

Emma!

Emma!

She gasps into consciousness, head lulling on cold tile. Someone's hands are tight around her upper arms. She blinks hard, twice, to clear the fuzz in her vision before she realizes who is leaning over her.

Connor, back-lit by Hank’s yellow kitchen lighting, looks down upon her like she’s fallen down from somewhere.

Her body floods with such intense warmth that she smiles against her will. Relief.

He's finally here…the mold of some angel, sculpted from the sky…

“Why are you on the floor?” he asks, shaken. Her smile falters.

She leans up on her elbows, and for a moment their faces are close enough that their noses nearly touch. The world still spins with the thickness of sleep. The relief coursing through her system pulses to the rhythm of one of Hank's old jazz songs playing from the living room. But why does he look so afraid?

“Hank said you'd probably come here first...but he went to bed...”

And I had to see you after the day I had.

She swallows those words back, swallows down the slow heat building everywhere in her body, the old fears, the new ones.

He finally leans away far enough that she can sit upright.

“You were thrashing,” he says, voice flat. “I thought something happened…”

“I was just asleep,” she says. Her eyes finally fall on the cardboard box of items next to her, labeled FRAGILE. The real world outside this moment of time, this moment alone in the kitchen with the person she'd been waiting for, comes rushing back. A pause. “You really think someone somehow snuck in past both the UN guards and Sumo?”

He doesn't smile at all, and neither does she. His hands are still around her arms. Something amorphous and shadowy chases the light in the back of his eyes.

He finally breaks away and looks into the box. His mouth twitches downward, but his voice is soft. “What are all these?”

She'd cajoled Hank into taking her to her apartment through a mix of tears and frustration so she could find it. Photographs, old art projects, dumb tchotchkes her dad would buy for them both in every airport he visited…

“I went to a counselor,” Emma says.

Connor falls back into an actual sitting position, expression unreadable. He watches her carefully.

“It’s so I can use the HAIT,” she says, a little faster than she intends, emotion suddenly rising up like water reaching a boil. He tilts his head, eyes squinting, and she keeps talking before he can interrupt. “Someone did hypnotherapy on me once upon a time and I don't remember any of it, like I'm in some fucking movie. And she tried to put me under and I…”

Facing a field of soybeans, swinging on a swing on a rickety old playground. Swinging and swinging and swinging…

Just stay here, little bug. Her dad's voice. Isn't it nice here?

“...there was nothing.”

I can't do this therapy with you, Emma. I've never seen someone twitch so much during a trance. Like you were in pain.

I wasn't. I didn't feel anything.

I'm sorry, Emma. But no.

“There was nothing,” she says, “and maybe there will always be nothing.”

He watches her. Maybe he doesn't understand. Maybe he could never understand what it was like, to be a person built on a foundation smothered in shadow.

He lays his hand next to hers. “What did you want to find?”

That question shakes her. Proof? Something that signaled her parents weren’t the kind of people that would get involved in something like all this?

“Anything, I guess,” she says. “A sign that I didn’t remember a lie.”

He taps the top of her hand, pausing a moment in thought. The contact is so small, but a thrum of blue energy sweeps her whole body anyway -- a keen reminder of all the things she doesn’t have.

“It’s just one android’s opinion,” he says, “but I don’t think anyone can take their love from you.”

Maybe.

She looks away.

“You should go back to the Speaker's house,” he says quietly. “I'd feel better if you slept there.”

“Will you be coming with?”

He doesn't answer right away. Another moment passes and he doesn't answer at all. Panic builds in her chest. Panic and a kind of pain, like her heart tearing. Disappointment, heavy as rain, presses out all logical sense, pressing and pressing and pressing until she can feel tears hiding behind her eyes.

“Okay, well,” she says, voice barely bridging the gap forming in her throat, “consider. Maybe I don’t want to do that.”

She grabs the box and stands up fast enough that she's lightheaded for a second. She sets the box on the table and leans against it, letting the world spin. He lingers close by as if ready to catch her, which makes the tsunami build and build.

“Maybe I don’t want to be followed around by two people I don’t know.”

“Emma…”

“Don’t Emma me. Just stop it.” Her fingers wrap around the edges of the cardboard, softened with time and abuse. “I missed you.” She tries to sound annoyed but her voice breaks. She can’t look at him. “It was just one stupid day. But I...”

I felt so alone.

A new song comes on over the sound system, one of her favorites on this disc, and she starts moving her shoulders to it, slowly, like she's working out some kinks in her body. She closes her eyes a moment.

“...Emma?”

Heat blooms on her cheeks. She turns around, slowly, afraid to see what he's asking after -- and he’s moving his shoulders, too, copying her.

Oh no.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“What are you doing?”

He continues his jerky movements and doesn’t answer, watching her ever so carefully.

“...are you trying to dance?”

“I am just following your lead,” he says.

A chalky laugh bubbles just under her heart, despite everything. “Really?”

Something in his expression softens as he looks down upon her, leaning down just slightly. “I know you like this song,” he says. “It feels...boppy, as you said.”

A sound like a water droplet plinking into a sink. A realization. A funny one. “You don’t know how to dance.”

“It is not among my social protocol programs.”

“No. You don’t say.”

“I have looked a few things up.”

She smiles, despite herself.

And then, as if she'd just given him permission, his movements get worse. Wider and wider, more expressionist, face still even as his arms swing wide. He looks like he’s competing for the World’s Best Shuffler award. It’s awful. It’s perfect.

“Stop it! You're embarrassing me,” she says, laugh finally bursting free. “Watch this.”

She closes her eyes a moment, moving to the music, following its mismatched beats, the jumble of random shit that works in spite of music’s laws. Her legs jam, her hips shake with a flow that an android can’t replicate.

Connor then does an approximation of what can only be the ancient and persisting Robot, looking dumb as hell and beautiful as the dawn. She laughs again.

“Please don’t stop,” he says, soft enough she nearly misses it. “I’ve missed your laugh.”

So she laughs more and more, and they dance like fools for a while.

And then, after too little time has passed, the song changes. It’s slow and silky and winding. Her heart skips a beat.

Her body betrays her (just as the music does, just as the universe seems willing to do) and she reaches out, hands on his shoulders. “That doesn’t fit this song anymore,” she says of his robot dance, her jamming. “We have to do something else.”

So she pulls him into a sway, slow and circular. They’re spinning in a choppy circle for a few moments, her palms on his shoulders, his legs locking in confusion.

“Work with me,” she whispers.

He looks down upon her, mystified, as she pulls one of his hands to her waist, where it is supposed to go. His legs finally loosen as he seems to understand, his LED settling between yellow and blue. They spin and he pulls her ever so slightly closer -- but not close enough that, from an outsider’s perspective, they couldn’t be spotted at a high school dance. The thought makes her smile again.

“This is called slow dancing,” she says, letting her gaze linger on his lapel. He was busy today. No sweaters when detective work calls.

“I remember,” he says softly. “From movies.”

Her face burns but God does it feel right. They spin on in relative silence, the music softly sweeping the room. She tries to absorb the entirety of him through her fingertips -- his shocking warmth, the careful ways he holds himself, whatever pushes him on through the day so that she can try to remember it for tomorrow. She spreads her fingers across his chest and allows herself this moment of weakness.

"I have to tell you something," he says.

Her heart rises in her throat. All of a sudden the music stops. He stops. Their toes nearly touch. His hands rest on her waist. His LED spins yellow and red, too close for her not to watch it, and her ears go fuzzy…

It feels something like hope.

“Did you just wifi my music--”

“I'm going to be going on a mission tonight,” he says softly.

Her chest hollows out in an instant. Hope sputters and dies.

“I don't want you to worry. But that's why I want you to stay at the Speaker's house.”

“The op?” Her voice feels tinny, far away. “I thought Markus didn't want any sudden moves.”

He blinks a few times. Something is off in how long it takes for him to answer, like he's pressing through a block in his programming. “New variables have moved the timetable up. It's all right,” he adds, moving a hand to her shoulder, as if anticipating the bile churning in her gut.

“I don’t like this,” she says. “I don't like this sneaking off into the night bullshit.” I don't like you being gone. I don't like this new arrangement at all. I don't like my new guards. They don't even talk to me. I want the old arrangement back. I liked my old one. I loved the old one, despite everything it represented, I loved…

I love…

“This is my job,” he says, so soft and so sad. She's going dizzy. No. No. She can't be thinking about this right now. This timing is terrible. This is out of the wrong movie. This isn't right.

“Yeah,” she says, “I get that. But are you sure about this?”

His jaw twitches and he leans forward, just a touch. “Very.”

She takes in a sharp breath. “But what if…”

What if it all goes wrong? What if the universe strikes, like it always does, eventually?

What if every limitation between human-android interfacing becomes extraordinarily, undoubtedly clear in a flash of a single instant, a single sentence that breaks everything they've built?

What if she's in love with him and she wants him to stay?

What if he couldn't understand?

“Nothing will happen,” he says.

His hand brushes her hair out of her face a moment. Her whole body, alight with new understanding, nearly vibrates as his fingers reach her bare skin.

“I don't fail,” he says. “It’s not in my programming.”

--

She doesn't argue when he insists she take a sleeping pill.

She needed the sleep. And Connor…

[MISSION FAILED MISSION FAILED MISSION FAILED]

He needed her to sleep because he couldn't watch the wavering light in her eyes as he decided, then and there, to take matters into his own hands. He couldn't stand her asking after him, couldn't stand the fact that he is the one who will make her cry again after these awful days, couldn't stand any more deception in his life or hers even as he perpetrates it.

And a small part, a part of his programming that he's ashamed of, a part that he wants to press away away away because of how selfish it is, wanted to see her like this once more before he dove into the dark.

He never should have gone to Hank’s, like it was a normal day. He should have just gone. Because now...

Her mouth is partly open in deep sleep, chest rising slowly. Her hair is a halo, spread across the silky pillow Markus found in a linen closet. Her face is struck through with a beam of moonlight, casting her freckles in a shimmering glow akin to the stars he imagines them to be.

He looks at her and he understands, all at once, why Markus paints.  

Why artists try to capture beauty in a moment. Why it matters at all, to try and save the ephemera, the passing, the few. Why Emma’s memory bothers her so much. Why slow dancing exists.

Something itches in the back of his mind, processes of an unknowable sort lurching to life in the ruins of that old red wall, and he reaches out a careful hand.

He lays the backs of his fingers against her cheek, where the moonlight touches. He runs his fingers across the light, across her skin, soft as bedsheets.

Her warmth sends hot electricity up his arm, through his core and into his head. Thoughts scatter and then solidify in an instant. She's so breakable. Everything about her fragile, like the word on the box -- dirty and ephemeral and painfully organic -- even as she proves him wrong, even as she pushes through the day to day with a strength that he can’t fathom. She dances to music and laughs at his jokes and glares at her guards and flips everyone off.

He wants so badly to see that every day.

He wants this, a painting in motion.

He wants.

So he has calculated the odds.

In every calculation, they are against him; there is only a 43% chance of success for his current plan. If he does nothing at all, Emma’s chance of death or total disappearance hovers near 30% -- an unacceptable range, as is anything above near-0. He cannot be the one who makes her laugh to keep her safe this time, and the thought whirs like a drill to his right eye.

[*&^%PAIN]

Even so. His processors cycle with cold certainty.

If he doesn't move -- if he doesn't become the hunter, the weapon -- all of this will shatter. He’ll never get to explore why he likes to rest his hands on her waist, never get to sway in time to a rhythm, never hear her voice again.

She will be taken. From him.

He hopes she will be able to forgive him for the lies. This one and all the rest, all his attempts to become someone who isn’t this version of himself. He knows who he has to be. Doesn't that matter more than who he could be?

[MISSION: FIND ABEL]

[CONFLICTING PRIORITY. SPEAKER MARKUS DID NOT GIVE THIS ORDER.]

[PRIORITY SELECTED.]

[FIND ABEL NOW.]

He leaves in the night, guns holstered under his shoulder. He tells no one, not even North. The odds she will turn him in to Markus are too high.

His eyes burn from tears unshed.

He wishes he was wrong.

[littlev1234]

The Young Build Homes - Chapter 3

Fandom: Yowamushi Pedal

Warnings: mentioned past animal abuse (not done by any of the characters)

Words: 2,386

AO3 Version: The Young Build Homes

Other Chapters: [First] [Previous]

                                                       Naruko

Muffled curses floated up to Naruko and Onoda’s ears as they walked on the road beside the river.

They stopped and shared a confused glance. In order to reach the actual riverbank, one would have to use the vertical drop beside the road, and on this side there was no easy slope to climb back up.

“Did an idiot jump down there?” Naruko questioned.

“Maybe there was something down there they needed?” Onoda suggested. “Let’s see if they need help.”

“All right. But if it’s any bullies we know, then I’m leaving ‘em there.”

The bespectacled boy flashed him a small, knowing smile as they walked over to the edge of the drop. “No you wouldn’t.”

Naruko returned the grin. “You’re right. I’m too awesome to leave a damsel in distress.”

Crouching down, they peered over the fifteen foot dirt cliff.

At the bottom a scowling male cursed again and plunged his fingers into the hard soil. However, because he used only one arm, he couldn’t gain enough leverage to climb. His other arm held a bunched up jacket against his torso. His black hair and clothes were plastered to his skin, and he blinked away a stray droplet that fell down his brow. He hadn’t noticed them yet; his attention flicked between the jacket and the wall of soil in front of him.

A junior, Arakita. Naruko knew a little bit about him. Known for his frequent fights and quick fuse, Arakita avoided anyone except those who dared to throw insults or start a brawl.

Onoda inhaled sharply and pointed to a wet plastic bag near the struggling boy. Then Naruko noticed a tiny lump of unmoving drenched fur sticking out of it, and his shock swiftly burned into anger.

“What kind of fucking sicko would drown kittens?” the redhead loudly seethed.

Arakita craned his head up and clenched his jaw. “Goddamn, does everyone think I would do this? Stop blaming me and look!”

He shifted the jacket until they could see damp black fur. Naruko’s ire simmered down as he realized what it was.

“You’re trying to save one!” Relief and acclaim were palpable in Onoda’s voice.

Arakita rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Thank God someone finally noticed.”

Had others passed by and refused to help? Naruko harshly clicked his tongue. Whatever Arakita’s deal was, he was trying to save a kitten now. He couldn’t imagine walking away.

“Hold on, we’ll get you out!” The redhead laid down on his stomach and reached his hand down.

Arakita shot him an unimpressed look. “I appreciate the attempt, but both of you are way too short for me to reach your hands.”

Growling under his breath, Naruko couldn’t deny it. His crimson gaze darted around the slow-moving river, the bank, and the road behind them, but he spotted nothing that could help. They could try using their shirts like ropes, but there was a chance of them ripping—especially since Naruko’s had a few holes in it already.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed three people walking down the road. His mouth opened to call out, but when he recognized the trio, his mouth clamped shut in aggravation.

Midousuji, Mizuta, and Doubashi. No way in hell would those guys help.

Yet Onoda shot up and stepped toward them. Naruko scrambled to his feet and dashed to Onoda’s side.

“W-We really need your help!” Onoda’s voice shook, but his resolute gaze never left the trio.

Mizuta scoffed while Doubashi cast them a bored look. However, they did slow to a stop. Behind them Midousuji peered at the ones who dared to call out to them, and his eyes narrowed into slits.

“As if. Why would we want to help you?” Mizuta sneered.

Onoda’s shoulders hunched inward, and his eyes dropped to the ground.

There was nothing they could offer them that they’d want. Naruko placed a hand on Onoda’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go back. We’ll figure something else out without these pricks—”

“Please!” Onoda spouted out. Hands clasped tightly together, he met their gazes once more. “Doubashi and Midousuji, you two are tall and strong so maybe—”

Teeth clicking together with far more force than should be possible interrupted him. White teeth bared, Midousuji straightened his spindly torso and tilted his head just a little too much for comfort. The veins in his thin neck stood out amongst his pale skin.

What the fuck. Naruko threw an arm in front of Onoda.

“You heard him.” Midousuji drawled, and as he spoke he dragged slim fingers down his own cheek. “We have no interest in insects…unless you have something to offer.”

Mizuta’s braces gleamed when he grinned. Doubashi crossed his arms with an amused smirk.

Naruko gritted his teeth, and a bead of sweat ran down his temple. Neither he nor Onoda spoke.

Midousuji tugged mercilessly at the skin on his jawline. “As expected. The squashed red bean can’t even afford to eat lunch every day, and the frightened mouse has only a mother who meanders through bills by taking tedious jobs and child support. Your combined status is equivalent to a crippled house fly.”

Rage burned away Naruko’s wariness.

“Shut the hell up,” Naruko growled. “Where do you get off shit-talking us about money?!”

“Not money. Resources,” he hissed.

“Give it up. You’re not going to get anywhere,” Doubashi advised, amused. “What do you want us for anyway?”

“Arakita is stuck by the river,” Onoda tentatively explained.

Doubashi glowered. “Leave the bastard. If you hang around him, you’ll get sucked into more fights.”

“Time?” Midousuji interjected. His head whipped toward Mizuta.

Mizuta jumped at the sudden order, and then he fumbled for his phone. “Uh…5:47.”

Midousuji muttered something before walking away. The other two trailed after him.

“Screw you guys. You could have just said no!” Naruko shouted after them.

Onoda released a shaky sigh. “It could have been worse, I guess.”

“Whatever,” Naruko dismissed, but he swore that next time Midousuji’s gang talked like that he’d punch in someone’s face. They returned to the edge of the drop.

“Was that Doubashi?” Arakita called up.

“Yeah,” the redhead confirmed.

“He’s probably still pissy that I knocked his tooth out last month.” Arakita glanced down at the bundle in his arm, and his sharp features softened with concern.

“Maybe I can go get a rope from somewhere,” Naruko suggested.

Onoda’s eyes lit up. “Wait! Didn’t Imaizumi say he lives in the neighborhood near here?”

“That rich neighborhood? Yeah, I think so.”

“I’ll text him. He’ll know what to do.”

Luckily Imaizumi texted back immediately, and soon he arrived in a sleek black car. Roll of rope in hand, he slid out of the backseat and hurried toward them. The driver drove off to find the nearest parking lot.

“We had some in the garage,” Imaizumi said as they led him to the spot. He let down one end of the rope and instructed Arakita to tie it around his waist.

“Naruko, help me pull him up. Onoda, get ready to take the kitten.”

“I never said I was taking orders from you,” Naruko grumbled, but he wrapped his arms around Imaizumi anyway.

Arakita managed to find a few shallow footholds along the way, and they managed to get him to the top. He handed Onoda the kitten so he could drag himself over the edge.

“Thanks,” Arakita said, and his eyes darted back to the small feline. Blue eyes wide and body shivering, it mewled weakly and tried to move its limbs. The cloth surrounding it prevented it from squirming away.

“We should take it to a vet,” Onoda insisted.

“It’s Saturday. None are open today,” Naruko reminded.

“My house is close. It can stay there, and I’ll ask my driver to pick up some things for it,” Imaizumi decided.

Onoda beamed. “Thank you so much, Imaizumi! I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“He’s right,” Naruko begrudgingly admitted. His and Imaizumi’s attitudes contrasted like oil and water, and due to that they argued often. But Naruko would never deny that Imaizumi was a good guy, as well as a good friend.

Imaizumi glanced away and cleared his throat.

“I’m gonna go back down there and check around some more. I didn’t see any other kittens, but might as well look.” Arakita swept drying bangs off his forehead.

“We can look,” Naruko offered, and he smiled at Onoda’s approving glance. “I bet hotshot doesn’t know the first thing about animals, and you need a change of clothes anyway. Go with him.”

“Hah?”

“We’ll go on the opposite side of the river where there’s a place to get back up,” Onoda added.

“And we’ll figure everything else out from there,” Naruko finished.

Arakita looked between them, stupefied. When Onoda handed the kitten back to him, he snapped out of it, and his expression returned to his usual, if softer, frown.

“Fine. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Imaizumi released a huff of amusement. “Naruko can’t promise that.”

“Hey!” Grinning, Naruko crossed his arms. “Can it and go. I won’t forgive you if your slowness makes the cat worse.”

As Imaizumi and Arakita left, Naruko and Onoda jogged down the road, over a bridge, and found a slight slope on the riverbank. Their gazes roamed the river and grass with each quick step they took.

Finding nothing but empty soda cans and a burger wrapper, they walked far down the river until they reached the fence. The road had veered away from the water for some time, so no sounds other than the quiet gurgle of water and birds was heard. A sign reading “WARNING: Unstable Ground Beyond This Point” hung on the fence.

Naruko rested his hand against the metal wire barrier. “This is as far as we can go. We should head back.”

“Yeah,” Onoda agreed.

Naruko turned, and then he spotted a plastic bag sitting half in the river. Its handle was caught on a smooth rock, and the bag swayed as the current threatened to pull it downstream.

“Was that there before?” Naruko questioned.

“I didn’t notice it either. I guess we missed it?”

On the off chance it held another creature, the redhead went over to it and crouched beside it. He pinched one side of it, lifted it, and peered inside.

The ground collapsed below his feet.

Water engulfed him. It rushed into his nostrils and mouth and burned against his eyes. Panic seized his body, screeching SWIM SWIM SWIM. The surface was right there, he could see it, he could make it—

Something latched onto his ankle. Lungs burning, he blindly kicked below him, and then he realized the water’s dropping temperature. A film of ice crawled across the surface.

Cold, so cold. Unfettered fear exploded in his mind.

Worst ice storm in decades. Dad sick, brothers young. Have to get food.

His fingertips were mere inches away from the surface. But his flailing limbs were losing energy, and the corners of his vision darkened.

Walk and walk and walk. Flurry of blinding snow, end up lost. So, so cold.

He was vaguely aware of his ankle being released. Yellowed fangs suddenly appeared extremely close to his right. The sight paled in comparison to the consuming chill leaking into his bones.

Nothing but blinding white in sight. Fingers won’t move. Face, legs, everything numb. Feet impossibly cumbersome. Please move, body, please please keep moving—

A hand plunged through the paper thin sheet of ice and grasped his wrist.

Warm. The fingers were warm.

As if granted a last spark of strength, Naruko forced his free limbs to move one more time.

Gasping and choking, he was half-dragged onto solid ground. Onoda was talking, but he couldn’t focus on the words. Naruko somehow managed to raise himself slightly on one shaking arm before retching water.

Reassuring heat rested on his back—Onoda’s hand. Never more grateful for it, the drenched boy lay there for several minutes coughing. The humid outside air provided relief to his chilled skin. His frame violently shuddered all the while; residual terror lingered with far more intensity than the freezing water.

Onoda’s hand left. Then soft fabric scrubbed his soaked locks before rubbing down his arms.

“Ono…da?” Naruko panted, voice hoarse.

“Oh thank god you’re talking, y-you need to get warm, I think tha’s what I’m supposed to dowhere did the icecomefrom?” The syllables bunched and slurred together as he feverishly wiped the water off his right arm with a now near-soaked shirt.

“I’m…okay.” He squeezed his eyes shut. God it hurt to talk. …wait, shirt?

When he opened his eyes and looked up at the other, he realized Onoda wasn’t wearing a shirt; he was using it to dry him off.

Despite the tremors shaking him, the corner of his lip tugged upward. “Making you worry…it’s pretty lame of me.”

“No no no, don’t say that. I’m just so happy that you…you…” Tears slid down his cheeks.

After a few moments, Naruko shifted into a sitting position and flashed a toothy grin. “I’m fine! I’d be pretty pathetic if I went down that easy.”

Sniffling, Onoda swiped a hand across his eyes and gave a shaky, relieved smile.

Naruko glanced back at the river. The water moved as calmly as ever. Sunlight gleamed off something miniscule, and at first he wondered if it was ice, but it slipped through the fence and left his sight before he could be sure.

Then he remembered the teeth. The lack of oxygen must have conjured that up; he had heard of people hallucinating right before they’re about to die. For a split second there he’d even relived that awful winter where he almost froze to death.

But then there was also the question of what had grabbed his ankle. Definitely not debris or fish. It felt like a humanoid hand.

He shook his head. His heart was still racing, and working himself up would do no good. He stood and pulled off his dripping shirt.

They headed back to the road and walked to Imaizumi’s house. His shivers lessened by the time they reached the building, and he plastered on a smile to combat the weariness tugging at his mind. Onoda’s eyes were still red.

Imaizumi and Arakita ushered them inside and demanded to know what happened.