#im acutally impressed with how well it looks??

[jujutsubaby]

after hours (part 5)

☆ pairing: satoru gojo x afab!reader ☆ summary: after your wild night with toji, you're forced to return back to reality. and by reality, you mean geto and gojo's house party. you're so tired, but nothing a few shots won't fix :) wait, hold on, who's that girl gojo is all over? wait, are you...jealous? ☆ warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! implications of sex, moderate to heavy drinking, partying, jealousy, sexting, over the shirt action, kissing, y/n and other characters get high/drunk/crossed and horny lol ☆ tags: modernAU, academiaAU ☆ a/n: HAPPY VDAY BABES xx 💜🖤💜🖤 sorry it's been a while since i updated this series (i got my period and then had lots of werk to do but im BACK). hope u guys enjoy some gojo and reader sexual tension >:) also to the anon who sent the passive aggressive msg about me not updating after hours...hope ur happy now 😒 🖤🤍 series masterlist 🤍🖤

“morning, riko!” you greet the raven haired barista sleepily, “iced cappuccino with soy milk, please.”

“what…are you sure?” riko says, her face surprised. you always order your signature iced matcha latte with oat milk, unsweetened of course. riko knows it, every one knows it. 

“yeahhh, i know. i just had a late night and then an early morning…” you groan. you won’t lie — you feel like you just got hit by a thousand trucks and your eyes are stinging (and probably red from the lack of sleep). “i’m bad at time management,” you confess sheepishly.

riko giggles. “not as bad as your friend trying to order a latte and pretending he likes it”. you sneak a glance at geto, who’s taking a sip of his americano and grimacing at the taste, which makes you smile at his lovesick gesture. “does he know we have other beverages?”

“ehh, i think he does but…he’s just trying to impress a very pretty girl who works here,” you say, trying your best to be obvious…but not too obvious that geto would be upset.

“oh my god, y/n! you know kuroi is happily engaged!” riko jokes, laughing lightly. 

“oh darn, i have to break the bad news to suguru…he’s gonna be sooo upset,” you say sadly, pretending to wipe away a false tear dramatically, as riko rings you up for your order. just then, you think of something awful that suguru would definitely kill you for, but you’re already pretty bold for wearing the same outfit from last night that you got fucked in and showing up 30 minutes late to meet your friends, so fuck it. 

“speaking of which, riko…are you doing anything tonight?”

“besides closing up…nope.” she answers. 

“well, a bunch of us are going to the new barcade that opened up downtown this evening. i’m thinking around 9, think you can make it? you can tell suguru himself to lay off kuroi,” you joke jovially. 

riko laughs heartily. “i’ll see you guys there”, she says, handing you your receipt, as you wave goodbye and head to your friends in the corner table. you try not to act flummoxed as you approach your friends, suddenly acutely aware of the how your hair was all over the place (why doesn’t toji own a hairbrush?) and that your jumpsuit was clearly wrinkled and that you hadn’t been able to take a shower yet. god, this was not your sexiest look. 

“do they usually allow walk of shames in this cafe? i thought it this was a safe space?” satoru grins, already thinking of 30 ways to roast you for showing your face here after being 30 minutes late. he’s trying to push away any thoughts of you getting fucked by toji out of his head. 

“shut up! i…i didn’t bring any extra clothes and i woke up late, okay!” you say, defending yourself earnestly. 

“leave her alone, satoru,” suguru chastises, as he scoots down a chair to make room for you. “anyway, why were you talking to riko for such a long time? did she…say anything? it’s my haircut isn’t it? i just wanted to trim the bangs a little bit but they went sooo overboard and now-“

“oh my god suguru, chill!” shoko says, rolling her eyes. “he hasn’t been able to shut the fuck about riko and it’s so annoying that me and satoru are thinking of just asking her out on his behalf, at this point.” suguru tries hard to hide a blush before trying to deflect, but you interrupt them both. 

“no need,” you say, turning to face suguru, “you can ask her yourself what we talked about…tonight. at the barcade.” you smile wide with your teeth and give suguru pleading eyes, hoping he won’t get upset with you for taking the liberty to speed run his first date with riko. 

his face immediately is unreadable, and satoru elbows his ribs hard and hits his back. “congrats, pal! you finally have something to look forward to tonight that isn’t on your nintendo switch.”

“yeah. i mean…i d-don’t care. at all. i mean…good for her for coming. i don’t know if i’ll even be there but if i see her then i see her. no big deal…” suguru says, mostly to himself. 

everyone at the table laughs, and you find your initial weariness of your extended walk of shame slowly melt away. you take a sip of your cappuccino, as utahime complains about how tired she is from playing animal crossing with shoko all night. you feel soft thinking about how utahime probably stayed up later than her usual early bedtime for shoko, knowing full well she has to wake up at 7am the next morning for both getting coffee and teaching her 1st period homeroom at the local high school. shoko has been recently trying to fix her sleep schedule from her night float rotation all junior residents had to do at the hospital their third year. 

“also, before i forget, pre-game at ours at 7. we’re inviting nanami and haibara and some other people,” satoru says absentmindedly, his eyes focused on responding to a text on his phone before turning and facing you. “you’re still good on giving me a ride to lab today, right y/n?” 

oh shit. “oh, umm, yeah, definitely still good with that.” you say quickly. you don’t exactly remember when you offered to give satoru a ride, but you assume it was one of the many times you tuned him out when he spoke. who’s satoru texting? the intrusive thought came out of nowhere, but you push the newfound irritation back where it came from. 

satoru and you walk back to your car while you both lament about how awful this week’s lab has been. “i mean, why even give us a lab when we have a final in like less than a week?” you say exasperatedly, as you search for the keys to your cream white mini cooper and unlock it. 

“speak for yourself, i finished that lab last week.” satoru boasts, grinning at your when you give him a confused look. “i’m only going to help the cute girls in class with their work.” he shrugs. what a slag. 

“you’re a whore,” you scoff, slightly annoyed at satoru. so he has time to help some random cute girl in class but not his best friend. you buckle in, and take pleasure in watching satoru struggle to situate his legs inside your tiny cramped car. his knees are bent at awkward angles, and his head practically touches the roof of the car. 

satoru groans loudly and dramatically. “you have the smallest fucking car in the world, y/n, y'know that?” 

“fits me perfectly,” you say nonchalantly, as you back up and drive out to campus. 

“well it baaareeelyyyy fits me,” he pouts, the sun visor bumping his head while he pulls it down. 

“it’s not even that tight,” you assure him.. 

“it’s very tight, y/n. i can feel the walls squeezing me.”

“get over it.” 

“oh, so it’s okay if toji says that to you but when i say it, it’s a fuckin’ problem?” 

you practically choke on your saliva and swerve into the other lane upon hearing satoru’s comment. “h-how did you know…he said that to me?” you say incredulously. there’s no way he like…hacked your phone or something right? maybe you accidentally butt dialed shoko last night and they all heard you moan god knows what. the storm of thoughts in your head is interrupted by satoru’s laughter. 

“i didn’t know he said that but now i do.” oh, god. you fell for it like a fucking idiot, y/n. you try to retort something back but you’re left speechless. actually you’re a bit impressed — satoru got that out of you masterfully, and you have to appreciate the tact (or perhaps lack thereof) he had. you try to be angry towards him, but it’s futile as you both start laughing. 

“i hate you — stop making me laugh it’s not funny i need to focus on the road, idiot,” you say in between giggles. your eyes stay fixed on the road as you playfully flick satoru’s head (he lets you — your laughter makes his heart beat faster and he ignores it). satoru grabs your hand with his and starts rubbing your fingers together in an effort to warm them up. 

“you’re hands are so cold all the time…” he murmurs. to him, it feels so natural to play with your hands, and you let him (his touch brings an undetectable heat to your face…and other parts of your body). you look steal quick glance over at him, and are overcome with a sudden and foreign shyness that instinctually forces you to retract your hand back to the wheel almost immediately. you clear your throat, before announcing to satoru that he was here. 

satoru’s knees and joints crack as they are finally released from the prison of your mini cooper, and he dramatically lets out a sigh of relief. he gets out of the car and makes a show of stretching his long legs and arms. his collegiate basketball crewneck slides up, and you catch a glimpse of his toned abs and happy trail. you hope he doesn’t hear your breath hitch before snapping out of the trance and rolling your eyes. “have fun harassing the cute girls in your class!” you say sarcastically, as he flips you off before heading to class. 

during your drive back home, you don’t want to process the familiar feeling you felt last night when satoru texted you before you had sex with toji. the thoughts you had of him choking you and kissing your while toji played with your titties. oh god, you’re thinking about it again! stop it!

your neck aches from staring at your laptop screen for the last two hours as you try to make going out tonight worth it by studying extra for your final exam next week. your neck cracks loudly in all the right places and you head straight for a quick hot shower. you practically moan when the hot water hits your scalp, and allow the water to wash away all the stickiness of your complicated relationship with toji and satoru. tonight’s just for having fun and not doting on the future, you tell yourself, but not before taking a look at your soapy chest and thinking this is just the perfect picture for toji to see. you quickly snap a pic, promising yourself you won’t be one of those desperate girls toji always brings over to his house. 

y/n: [1 Photo] hi :)

okay, you know you had just sent the photo to toji, but it did kind of break your heart that he didn’t immediately respond. okay, sure he’s a single dad so he might be busy…or he’s fucking some other girl. your heart drops slightly at the thought of him blowing some other unsuspecting girl’s back out, and the sadness quickly turns to annoyance. you’re better than this, y/n. who cares anyway — no one sucks dick like you do. you smirk. you definitely aren’t the type of girl who would hook up with anyone, but you know how to not sell your skills short. if toji was busy with his own life, well, so were you. 

you hop out of the shower, checking your phone once again to see if toji had responded, only to be met with a text from satoru in the group chat:

satoru: [1 Photo] got the goods 😛

you open the photo to see him with a couple packs of white claws, and suguru in the background looking intently at two wine bottles in his hands. no way is satoru’s lightweight ass is gonna make through even one can before getting sloshed, you think to yourself. 

shoko: what’s sugu doing?

satoru: deciding on what wine to get for riko lmfao 

you can’t help but smile at how cute suguru was, being so nervous for something that wasn’t even a formal first date. 

y/n: awww 🥹 get the rosé bby 

shoko: y/n if ur ass isn’t ready in 10 mins i s2g i’m gonna leave without u

you scrunch your nose and throw your phone on the bed — if you really hurry you could easily be out your door in fifteen. after thinking for five minutes, you decide on a classic little black skirt with a slit on the side paired with a lace cropped bralette (that honestly really did wonders to your boobs). you wore an oversized leather button down shirt, sheer black tights, and a pair of black gogo boots. you quickly fixed up your hair, figuring that “wet” look was already trendy anyway. after applying your makeup at the speed of light (you went for a subtle yet sultry neutral look), you grab your little purse and sprint out your room, and see that shoko was staying true to her word, as she was just about to head out the door. she sees you, stops, and grins. 

“you barely made it,” she teases, as she holds the door open for you. 

“you bitch.” you respond, rolling your eyes. “is utahime meeting us there?”

“yes she’s already there,” shoko says, not looking up from her phone as she calls an uber. so that’s why she’s been dying to get out of the house so impatiently. 

as both of you get into the uber, shoko pulls out two gummies from her purse and offers one to you. “pregame the pregame?” she says, and you both start giggling as you pop the gummy in your mouth. it’s probably not going to hit for a while, which leaves you plenty of time to get there and say your greetings to nanami and haibara before you get extremely crossed. you check your phone one last time, only to be met with no texts from toji. 

“thanks for the ride!”, shoko yells out as the uber driver speeds away. 

“umm, i’ve never been to oovoo javer…”, you say through giggles uncontrollably. oh, fuck. this must’ve been one of those fast acting gummies. shoko must have been feeling the effects too because she starts laughing noiselessly and you both are doubling over outside of satoru and suguru’s apartment, grabbing each other for support so you both don’t fall from how much you both are laughing.

the door of the boys’ apartment flies open and it’s some couple open mouth kissing each other, stumbling their way out of the confines of the living room rager that lied ahead for both of you. you and shoko both bit back another giggling fit before stepping in. suddenly, two arms engulfed both of you in a strong yet familiar bear hug. 

“himeee~” you hear shoko greet cheerfully. 

utahime hiccups, already a bit tipsy. she pouts jokingly before shoko kisses her cheek and you squeeze her torso back in another bear hug. “you bitches are awful for leaving me with dumb and dumber…” she says, punctuating her words with hiccups. 

“i’m sorry, 'hime. let’s grab a drink. i also packed you a joint,” shoko apologizes before utahime drags the both of you to the kitchen for a drink. in the kitchen, you find nanami slouching against the fridge, looking annoyed as ever, and haibara animatedly talking to some lower class men. haibara locks eyes with you and immediately turns and embraces you in a warm hug, while nanami manages a shoddy wave. 

"ahhh my favorite little babiessss~" you squeal, pulling both guys closers to you and giving them a strong hug. you always get very touchy and sentimental when under the influence. "i haven't seen you guys in sooooo long!"

"please let go, y/n." nanami says calmly, but not before briefly squeezing you back for what felt like half a second. wait a minute -- what the hell is nanami doing here? he never comes to these things.

"wait why are you he-"

"save it," nanami interrupts, running his fingers through his hair. "i'm only here because i wanted a referral to the lab gojo works at, and he said yes but that i needed to come over this evening so he could ask me some questions regarding the referral application."

"oh, yeah! what questions did he want to ask you?" haibara asks quizzically.

nanami takes an even deeper sigh. "i showed up and he asked if i wanted to take a shot and when i sad 'no just ask me what you need for the referral', he was like 'that's the question, do you want a shot?' and that's how i got fucking tricked into coming to this godforsaken rager." nanami seems truly miserable having fallen for satoru's scheme so easily. "anyway...given the circumstances, i did take a shot..." he groans, slowly sliding down the fridge onto the kitchen floor.

you and haibara laugh, and utahime hands you a white claw. you open the chilled can, and take a sip, your hazy state of mind helping you not feel the slight burning in the back of your throat.

"speaking of that idiot, where is he?" you ask, your eyes scanning the room for his bright white hair. you frown not seeing him anywhere, but your face quickly relaxes when you see suguru and riko heading to you and your friends. oh nice, suguru finally managed to ask riko to come to the pregame, too.

"hey riko!" shoko greets, "didn't expect to see you here..." she teases.

riko giggles and take a sip of her wine. "i couldn't say no to seeing my favorite customers!" she steals a quick glance up at suguru and you swear you see him blush. "also, this wine suguru picked out is amazing! how did you know i love rosé?"

you bite back a smile, making quick eye contact with suguru. "oh...lucky guess..." he shrugs, playing it off nonchalantly.

"oh by the way, i got a joint for us to share," shoko says, pulling it out of her bag. "anyone interested in puff puff passing?" she asks, already holding utahime's hand and heading to the balcony. suguru and riko follow suit, and you quickly bid nanami and haibara farewell.

as you turn around, you bump into the man you've been looking for, wearing the same basketball collegiate crewneck, white hair disheveled, and a drunken flush to his face.

you don't even get to say hello to satoru as he lifts you up in a giant hug that encompasses you and spins you around, making you squeal. you can't help but wrap your legs around him, knowing full well you probably shouldn't since your skirt was not long enough for it, but you needed to feel the warmth and comfort of his body around yours. you always got a bit too touchy feely when you were under the influence...

"eeep satoru~ put me down!"

"nope, missed ya", he mumbes into your hair. oh, he's definitely drunk right now. sober satoru would never openly admit something like that and it makes you giggle.

"please~ my skirt is too short for this ahh~" you plead, unwrapping your legs from his torso, all of sudden feeling embarrassed through the warm haze engulfing your body. satoru finally puts you down and shamelessly eyes you up and down while taking large sips of his beer.

"that skirt can definitely be shorter," he says cheekily, his blue eyes filled with drunken mischief. you roll your eyes dramatically and also take a sip of your claw.

"you're drunk, satoru..."

"and you need to get drunker!" he yells, already grabbing you a shot glass and pouring some of rankest shit you've ever smelled. the music starts pounding louder, and you need to raise your voice even higher to make sure he hears you.

"aren't you gonna take one with me?" you shout.

"y'know i'm a fuckin' lightweight, baby~" he frowns, handing you the shot, a little bit spilling with his sloppy actions.

you scrunch your nose at the strong stench. "i'm a bit stoned though so only one, okay?" you say to him. you close your eyes, hold your breath, and down it. your eyes water and you have to prevent yourself from dry heaving as you immediately grab the nearest can of cola on the table and chug it as a chaser.

"wooow, you're such a baby," satoru jeers, thinking about how you've always needed a non-alcoholic drink to wash down your alcohol. you're not a heavy drinker by any means -- not even a moderate drinker. as as a social drinker, you always feel the need to try to at least sort of keep up with your friends when they drink the rankest and cheapest liquor. thank god satoru has always been a lightweight.

"shut up~" you say, rolling your eyes. you grab satoru's arm and pull him closer to the balcony where all your friends are. he slides his arm down so that you're holding his hands. your heart beats faster, knowing full well your vices always made you...hornier than usual. you're trying really hard to not look back at satoru, but you steal a glance anyway. his flush face and tired eyes are all of a sudden looking really attractive to you. your eyes slide down and look at his hands, the shape of his long calloused fingers gripping your hand and you can't help but imagine how they would feel pumping inside you. oh god, was he always this attractive? ugh! why can't toji just message you back so you can just go over to his place instead of having to lust over your best friend?!

you both enter the balcony, and the cool yet humid evening air hits your face, allowing you to finally breath something that wasn't beer and sweat. that is, until the stench of weed hits your nose.

"ugh, this shit's gross! i dunno how you guys can fuckin' stand the smell," satoru complains, dramatically making a gagging face.

"and you call me a baby?!" you snort, still trying to not be obnoxiously flirtatious throughout the night to satoru. you cannot let the horniness win tonight. god, what's gotten in you? you're never this...desperate? it's satoru's fault because he's looking so good tonight, you tell yourself. you pass on the joint, and try to focus on the conversation at hand, but it's hard when satoru puts his arms around you and pulls your closer to his chest.

almost instinctively, you melt into his chest, allowing yourself to feel his warmth and focus on his breathing chest. you smell the beer from his mouth as he laughs at something suguru said and you giggle too so people can know you're sort of paying attention.

you're a perfect mix of drunk and high, and you're feeling blissful being out on this balcony with your best friends, albeit minus the thoughts of how good satoru was looking tonight. is it even that wrong to think that your friend looks hot? you're not being delusional right?

"suguru is definitely being a comedian tonight for riko, isn't he?" you tiptoe up to satoru and whipser into his ear, thinking you're being subtle. unfortunately for you (and suguru), the loud music isn't being carried out to the balcony, and everyone hears you, and starts laughing. oh shit. you immediately pan over to suguru and see him pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

"oh my god, suguru i- riko, i'm obviously joking!" you say really fast, slurring through your words as the shot finally is taking effect into your body. "obviously, suguru is the funniest person i know!"

"second funniest but i'm letting suguru tell all the jokes tonight. he needs this more than i do." satoru smiles brightly, looking at his best mate and making a kissy face at him.

"okay, riko, we are actually. um. we are leaving. and going to my room or the living room or literally anywhere else but here," suguru says, abruptly standing and helping riko up.

"wait what no, i wanna hear more about this-" she starts to tease, but ends up laughing.

"you're taking her to your room?!" shoko teases, raising her eyebrows comically. utahime chokes on the joint and starts laughing coughing and you do too, before you immediately stop. you cannot get on suguru's nerves tonight, as you know that'll make him too in his head to actually focus on having a fun time with riko.

you lift your body weight off of satoru and make way for suguru to leave. satoru side steps in front of suguru and pulls him into a hug, to which he scowls and tries to break free of. "mate, we LOVE you. i love you. and y/n loves you. and i'm going to absolutely obliterate you at street fighter at the barcade tonight." satoru slurs through his words and you almost feel bad for riko for having to deal with you and your friends.

you give a sympathetic look to riko as she trails behind suguru, patting his back softly and giggling. you're about to whisper a quick sorry to her, but she takes you by surprise by whispering "i hope i get obliterated by him tonight."

your jaw drops and you could almost cry laughing at what riko just said. i mean, okay, yeah it makes sense, and good for her but oh my god? i didn't know she had that in her?, you think to yourself.

"queen, i hope it happens. i'm for real manifesting this for you," you whisper back quickly and she sips her wine and giggles and follows suguru out of the balcony.

you turn around incredulously to shoko and utahime and look up satoru, all of them completely in shock at what they heard. there's a moment of silence to process before the intrusive thoughts win in your head. "honestly, i hope i get obliterated tonight, too."

shoko groans. "shut the fuck. up! you literally got obliterated last night! can you be normal about physical touch for just one night?"

"i can't, shoko, you know i get horny when i'm crossed~" you whine, your doe eyes getting wider in desperation. oh cool, you're off the deep end now. you're just fully horny and admitting it in front of satoru who will, at the very least, use this as incriminating evidence tomorrow.

"i can help with that," satoru flirts brazenly through the alcohol in his system, bringing you closer to him and holding you tight.

"desperation is such a turn off," utahime says almost immediately.

you giggle as you melt into satoru's chest once more. "what's going on, toji not treatin' ya right?"

your body almost instantaneously goes rigid upon hearing his name, and your senses almost clear up. you whip your phone of your purse, completely ignoring satoru's question and check your messages to see if you got a notification from toji, only to see nothing. you groan and rub your temples in stress. "okay guys, gather around. this is an emergency," you say as everyone huddles closer to you.

"it's not an emergency, FYI", shoko clarifies, already having heard this story in the uber ride here.

you explain to utahime and satoru about how toji had not responded to your explicit picture since this afternoon, and how you're feeling stupid and insecure about it. "i mean, is there something wrong with me? did i cross a line? how can you ignore the same titties you sucked on less than 24 hours ago?" you say frustratingly, the alcohol once again allowing you to give way more detail than you normally would.

"you see, it's a bit hard for me to, like, understand exactly what the situation is. i think i need to see the picture you sent him to really understand and help you out, y/n." satoru says with dead seriousness as he locks his eyes with you.

"oh yeah of course!" you say as you unlock your phone and are about to show him before shoko grabs your phone away and utahime flicks his forehead.

"you nasty disgusting pervert..." she mumbles, shaking her head.

"she was literally about to show me~" he whines. "i was asking as a friend, a homie."

"okay, listen y/n. he's probably busy. he's literally a single dad, and maybe he's busy with megumi. maybe he's trying to find a real job besides being a gigolo, we don't know but it's lame to dwell on it. let's just finish up this joint and head to the barcade soon, okay?" shoko assures, holding your hand as utahime puts your phone back in your purse. god, you love them so much it hurts.

you nod your head rapidly, as satoru gets a chime on his phone.

"ohhh, shit!" he exclaims, "this girl i helped today during lab is here. and she might actually show me her titties unlike you guys, so...i'm gonna leave."

you roll your eyes in even more annoyance. great, now satoru is gonna be hanging out some random airhead while you're left to your own vices for the rest of the night? you really don't want to spend the night waiting for toji to text, and you don't care to particularly ask satoru for help. but it does make you even more desperate knowing that you're still pretty drunk and everyone in your friend group seems to be getting laid tonight except for you. maybe you can find someone cute in the barcade?

as you all bid satoru goodbye, you continue to enjoy a couple more minutes with shoko and utahime while they finish smoking the joint. once it's finished, you all are ready to head out.

"okay, you get satoru, and we'll get suguru and riko," utahime instructs. that's so high school teacher of her, you think and bite back a smile.

"who's gonna kick everyone out of this...pregame house party thing?" you ask, gesturing to the 20 or so people getting progressively more drunk and sweaty in the boys' living room and kitchen.

"suguru will handle it, not our problem," utahime says, lighting out the joint into the nearest succulent pot in the balcony. she grabs shoko's hand and leads her out of the balcony, and you follow suit.

your nose is once again met with the stench of beer and sweat, and you make a face. your eyes scan the room full of party goers for satoru, as it shouldn't be hard to find the tallest person in the room with the brightest hair, but with no luck. ugh, he's probably somewhere in the rest of the apartment with that girl, you think, not looking forward to meeting some random slag satoru was probably going to sleep with.

as you made your way through the living room to the hallway to the boys' room and bathroom, trying your best to avoid the damp sweaty skins of people and sticky floors, you realize you need to pee really badly. you shove your way to the empty hallway and quickly down the rest of your white claw before beelining to the restroom at the end of the hallway.

as you're nearing the corner turn, you hear...oh god, are you hearing? moans? of course, someone is bound to hook up at this trashy party and make you feel even worse for being so drunk and horny and having no one tonight. that's okay though, you have a plan: you'll do your best not to make eye contact to the couple just turn right into the bathroom. just as you're about to execute this plan and turn the corner, you hear them moan, "o-oh satoru~" and your head immediately whips to the direction of the person who made the offensive noise.

you're not sure what you feel and you think you feel many things, including but not limited to: disgust, hostility, annoyance and...jealousy? wait, no, that can't be right.

your eyes widen and your jaw drops and you scoff as you see satoru french kissing some floozy outside his room, his hands up her shirt feeling her titties. wait, are you jealous or turned on? wait, what's happening?

satoru hears your scoff and rapidly removes his hands from the girl's shirt and stops kissing her to look at your bewildered and exasperated face. you give him a look that says "are you serious?" before you chuck your empty white claw can at him (he deftly dodges it) and shout, "get a room! but also get ready, you horndog, we're leaving to the barcade!"

you don't wait to hear an answer as you immediately slip into the bathroom and lock the door. god what was that? okay, let's break this down, you think to yourself, desperately scrambling to get your intoxicated thoughts in order. your head is slightly spinning and you lean on the bathroom sink for support as you try to sort out why you're feeling your chest drop in what you can only identify as jealousy. no, you're not jealous because you're in love with satoru, you're jealous because it just doesn't make sense.

if satoru is gonna fuck around with anyone tonight, it might as well be you, right? it's just rude, like as a friend, to kiss someone else who's not your friend when your friend is really horny, right? god, are your inebriated thoughts even making sense?

you try to snap out of delirium by turning on the faucet and drinking some water, trying to sober yourself down. or maybe you actually need to just get another drink? maybe you just need to find some cute guy to buy you a drink at the bar later and you'll snap out of it.

actually, maybe toji should just fucking text you back so you can go crawling to him at the end of the night so he can obliterate your pussy. you fish your phone out of your purse only to be met with no notifications from toji. you click on the message between you and toji, and start to draft out some lewd and lecherous texts to him. you thankfully, you don't have time to contemplate your actions or hit send before you hear the music die and people groaning.

you hear suguru yelling at everyone to get the fuck out and either go home or to the barcade, and you hear satoru start singing closing time, slurring the lyrics. this is the guy you're jealous about? this is the fella you want to lowkey fuck?

you pray that either a) toji messages you back or b) you find a nice non-creepy guy at the bar who's willing to at least make out with you, or 3) you instantly get sober after peeing.

only time will tell.

[sshadowritestoriess]

HELLOOOO im in love with the way you write our beloved rama 😭

i just wanted to know ur hcs about him beginning to realize he feels more about the reader than just friendship and/or how he deals with the first buds of sinful thoughts about their dear human friend? 👀

HI tysm!! Ramattra definitely has my attention hahaha. Sorry this is so long!! I just like writing 😂

Ramattra realizing his feelings

Earning his friendship was a hard enough task on his own. He never made that easy for you, or for anyone of flesh and blood

As much hatred as he has for humanity, he doesn’t outright assume all humans are evil. He understands there is still good in its kind, it’s just a matter of knowing who he is safe to drop his guard around when having more acute interactions

And this is a process he has the utmost forbearance for. As long as a person can express patience with him, then he is more than willing to allow himself to be understood by a human peer

You were probably one of the most respectful humans he had personally interacted with. Your kindness made for a strong first impression, especially in the way you had greeted him as any other person, looked upon him with no surprise in your eyes as if he had just been anyone else. Not a killer. Not a terrorist.

Still, for the ongoing weeks he kept his distance the more he had found himself in the same room as you, assuming his same process of determining whether your behavior was a front or not.

He was as kind to you as you were to him, which made things a little confusing on your end. You weren’t oblivious— you know who he is, and such a name as Ramattra came with a complex reputation. He’s certain he began addressing you as a ‘friend’ the moment you’d inquired why people thought him as ‘cold’

“You’ve been real nice to me,” you’d said, mirth in your tone, “I’m not just getting special treatment, am I?”

It wasn’t the first lighthearted joke you’d made in his presence, but it was the first he’d laughed at. He knew it wasn’t a question that needed answering, and so he didn’t. You were smart enough to assume the reason for rumor

Quickly, you both became close. (Well, ‘quick’ being you set the record for “fastest human to earn Ramattra’s trust”. It took fourteen weeks, but neither of you were counting.)

He was content to admit he admired you, respect drastically outweighing his contempt for what you were. It felt nice, to see you through blurred lines— he felt he finally understood, for just a moment, the bond that his brothers back at the monastery were trying to protect

But the more Ramattra grew to know you, the more he shared about himself. Which, tends to be a normal exchange between friends, certainly. Of the others he would dare call ‘friends’ before you, this wasn’t out of the ordinary

Yet when he would speak too much about himself with you, he felt shame. Embarrassment. He would wonder to himself at times if he should have shared certain things, and worried of your opinion

It made him pull back for a while, and was relieved you remained as patient as you’d always been. You made sure he was fine and he’d kindly dismissed you, to which you respectfully backed off and simply told him you were here if he needed

But… then when he was given the space he asked for, he became somewhat angry with himself. Now he just missed you, but felt so under pressure to be in your presence. It was frustrating.

You knew whatever problem he was facing had to be because of you, since he had told you just a few days ago that he preferred a little distance for now— but here he sat across the room from you, scrolling through lists of weaponry concepts to decide on what to work on next, inquiring your opinion of colors, of all things.

There came a day that Ramattra had a run in with a particularly violent human gang, of whom he’d shown little mercy for after they dealt the first strike— he should have swung the moment one of the strangers drawled about wearing his face as a trophy, “-after I reduce ya to nuts-n-bolts,” they’d said. A pitiful drop of confidence quickly lost into the newly reddened asphalt of the nearest alley

You caught him marching down a corridor, and it finally hit Ramattra like a truck when you’d approached him to make sure he was fine

He didn’t bleed red, you knew this. And something in him clicked when you immediately assumed him the victim, placing careful hands on his chest as you observed him for damage

Oh, he liked you. A lot. Had any other person of flesh approached him, he would have demanded solitude with a killing accusatory tone, a wordless threat of violence if his needs were not met.

But you had came to him, and he was more than relieved that you had. Just seeing you again, he realized why he hadn’t hit his attackers first.

“Are you attempting to domesticate me?” He had blurted, watching you curl your hand into the hem of your shirt and wipe the blood from his fingers. He takes in your baffled expression with a hidden affection- and yet again, feeling awkward for such a poor joke with little context. He fought himself on whether to explain, but decided better of it.

Understanding then why he felt so drawn to you, he felt somewhat justified in why he additionally felt like such a fool in your presence.

He hadn’t intended to feel this way about you, it couldn’t be helped. You hit many marks that he found objectively attractive.

He would spend the next few days observing you to thoroughly analyze his feelings toward you— to which you felt like a specimen being studied with how he kept tossing prolonged stares in your direction

He didn’t mean to appear like a creep, and he ended up feeling so much worse when you finally confronted his “quiet ogling”

“I— I was not,” he’d say defensively, and relaxed quickly when you laughed. “You are merely a fascinating subject to observe, is it so offensive that I watch?”

“Are you calling me pretty?”

“No.” He quickly bites, then immediately froze as he regretting saying it so harshly. He doubles back, “But, I do not mean—“ a pause, “You are fine as you are. But that is not what I was saying.”

Ogling. He was ashamed to find himself doing just that so soon after the amused accusation

The way you smirk before telling a joke, he’d mishear your jest when he was so focused on the way your mouth moved, and imagined running his thumb over your lips

When he’d find you closer to morning, he loved to catch you stretching your arms above your head. Your shirt would ride upward and reveal a bit of your navel while your upper half trembled into the stretch. He wanted to put his hands there, too.

He stole an opportunity to knead at your shoulder once when you complained about being sore from a prior activity, everting inside him lurching with humiliation when you settled comfortably into his lap.

An innocent gesture, sat between his legs while you accepted his kindness— though a deceptive offer, for he had just wanted a reason to have you this close.

He stared hard at your neck, gaze dropping to peer beneath your collar. It was dreadful. But he wouldn’t restrain himself, entirely glad he had a stationary face.

He’d pull at the cables of his mane when he was by himself, shaking his head and his fists at himself for this unrighteous behavior. Being away from you was worse, left alone with unrestrained thoughts of the things he could do to you

And oh, the things he wanted to do to you.

But you were a friend. A human. He was an omnic, and certainly not one built for… that kind of activity.

But then again, he was not made with life in mind, either. As far as he saw it, he could do whatever he wanted with the privilege of having agency

And that has resulted in relieving himself of these indecent thoughts when he shut himself into his quarters, blessed with the ability to create vivid images of what you would look like beneath him.

These solemn hours of the night should be reserved for meditation, and pondering his next move. But now he’s been reduced to touching himself with you in mind, pulling at delicate wires that were not meant to be tempered with.

Imagining you there. Evoking hypothetical risk by trusting you with his body.

But he hadn’t even made his feelings known to you yet. Hell, he couldn’t imagine a situation where he would without it complicating everything, or making you distant.

He knew he was the least likely candidate to end up in a cross-species relationship. So for now, he’d just relish in your friendship

And if ever you hint at wanting to take things a step further, you would find Ramattra quite eager to advance.

[phonkscribes]

Hi hi I just wanted to dump a more "bleh" idea here (because I sadly do not have any DMC friends to talk about my ideas too,,, I'm lonely :c) but im having brain rot about Dante and Vergil having a S/O that wants them to devil trigger because they love to draw their demon form and just gently trace all of their details- the scales on their hands, the structure of their wings, their face, horns, all of it. Like, to S/O, they just find this form fascinating :D (ofc they still like Vergil and Dante in their normal form, it's just they have the thought of "omg dragon looking form!!! Must,,, draw/touch!")

Hello anon! I would be happy to discuss ideas and DMC with you if you'd like , thanks for sharing this idea!!!!

I think that this is so very real!!

I feel like Dante would be a little worried to show them his Devil Trigger at first if they're not involved in the devil hunting biz like he is, because what if it freaks them out? He doesn't want to scare them away with something that's a huge part of him, and when he finds out that his S/O actually likes and wants him to show it off it makes him so happy. Of course, it's not something he'd ever outwardly admit, because he'd much rather laugh it off as he does with all of his other worries and problems.

He'd hold out his wings for them to touch and feel, while he watches the adoration expand on their face. He finds it to be pretty damn cute and does his best to pose and hold still while they draw him. Dante's impressed with how well his S/O's able to capture his likeness. I think he'd also be pretty affectionate while in that form, more so than he normally he is, wanting to give them kissies while they hold his face and feel the roughness of his scales and what not.

Vergil on the other hand would be hesitant to let his S/O come near his Devil Trigger at all. He's weary because he's acutely aware of how much more stronger he is in that state and doesn't want to hurt them at all. Every part of his body is dangerous and made to be sharp, from his open horns that expel blue flames, to his arms. Vergil probably worries about scratching them by accident while they touch along his body while in that form. Although he can't help but squirm a little from how ticklish it feels along his carapace. Of course, he doesn't mind, since he's proud of his heritage and is eager to see how his S/O will capture him.

Their interest is endearing to him, and Vergil adores that they seem to love it so. He'd carefully guide their hands to his side, where it's safest to touch and ask them what they think, as he's more curious to know rather than worried if they'd dislike it or anything like that. It's a point of pride for the eldest son of Sparda, and hearing his S/O fawn over his devil trigger like that makes him feel pretty happy.

[solitudesbestfriend]

Ode To Us

A/N: So im starting an Aizawa x OC slow burn series. Lmk how yall like it or if you hate it. This series will feature sexual themes, violence, drug and alcohol abuse in the future so this is an 18+ series. Thank you for reading and uhh bear with me guys

Chapter 1/? of Ode To Us Series

Word Count: 1.k

Pairing: Shouta Aizawa x OC

Warnings: a single swear word, Toshinori feature, no Shouta :'(

Summary: A top ten United States Pro Hero moves back to Japan after 10 years when her best friend, All Might, gets her a job at the most prestigeous hero school in all of Japan, U.A.

The brunette stands outside the door of the office that the principal of  U.A.’s resides in, fiddling with the golden bracelet on her wrist, sunglasses ontop of her nose. If she were being honest, the woman is not entirely sure how she ended up here, about to officialize her professional teaching position at a hero school without any formal teaching experience. Sure, she mentored young aspiring heroes back in the states, but this was different…more surreal. In just about six days, she will be entrusted with the lives of about 2 dozen kids. At this point, the pro hero is thinking she must've gone insane, she's cracked, and something is wrong in her brain. She can barely take care of herself. At this suddenly very prominent thought, she curses the man who originally got her into this mess.

The woman was removed from her mind when the office door swung open, a disheveled man adorned in baggy professional attire and familiar blond hair stood in the doorway. Speak of the devil and he shall appear. A scoff from the woman was thrown the man’s way as his expression brightened considerably. “Akari Nakamura, a pleasant surprise!” The woman rolls her eyes at the man, though she knows her eyes are unseeable due to her professional-grade sunglasses.

“Surprise my ass,” A laugh escaped from the man. Regardless of her attitude, Yagi was always giddy to see his old friend. The two of them go way back. To when things were simpler, kind of. Nothing is ever positively simple. “Remind me again why I agreed to this?”

“As a favor to your best friend?” Yagi offered, only to be met with silence. Akari rubbed her eyes, her glasses shifted as she did so. “Look, I know I'm asking you for a lot, but there is no one else I trust enough.” An exasperated sigh sounded from the brunette woman. A few seconds of silence wafted between them until Akari nods. 

“I know…” Her hand finds her bracelet once more as she contemplated what to say next. Akari has been tasked with not one but two major responsibilities. Don’t get it wrong, she's not one to back away from a fight, she only hopes the conflicting burdens don't wear her paper thin. “I do anything you’d ask, Yagi. You know that.” Akari settled for sweet and simple. A honey-filled smile grew on top of his face, one Akari isn’t sure is genuine but she doesn’t acknowledge it. The man layed his skinny hand atop her shoulder, and gave it a small squeeze. 

“Am I interrupting?” The small, and frankly adorable, U.A. Principle interjects. A small ‘No’ and a shake of the woman’s head was thrown his way. “Perfect, then Miss Nakamura, would you care to step inside my office?” The formerly mentioned woman nods and walks into the room before her, not bothering to spare Yagi Toshinori a goodbye. 

The pair get settled into their respective chairs across the neat desk. The woman goes to take off her sunglasses out of politeness, but the bear (?) dismisses her act of consideration. “I’ve read up on your quirk, Nakamura, no need. I admit, it was hard to access relevant information on you.” The brunette threw him a minuscule fleeting smile, not exactly sure what to say in response. “Quite impressive this day and age, to be ranked the number 8 hero in the United States and have scarce accurate information published.” The well-spoken mouse, maybe, admitted. It was something Akari was acutely aware of, considering she is the one who made her team back in the U.S. keep her motions on the down low. Akari rarely did press or went to charity events. The Japan native wasn’t exactly sure how she was ranked so high, but she didn't dare question it. 

“Well, I suppose it’s fate,” The woman shrugged, not attempting to address the topic. “If you’re into that sorta thing.” She quickly added. The Principle hums in acknowledgment and pulled out paperwork, no doubt needing to be signed and initialed by the woman. 

“Do you believe in fate?” Safe to say, Akari was taken aback the the little man’s question. The black sunglasses sink further onto her face as she looks at the ceiling to ponder the question. Does she believe in fate? The brunette would like to believe she did, but realistically, if someone other than her future boss man asked her the same question, she’d probably laugh in their face. Even if fate did exist, Akari doubted it as righteous as most thought it to be.

After a minute of silence, Akari spoke, “No, to be transparent. Seems like something fed to us to make ourselves feel better about all the bad things we go through” Her lips purse, surprised at her own honesty. She must be exhausted from her flight. “Do you? Believe in fate I mean.”

“I do,” The creature’s small smile never leaving his lips. The woman frowns, now regret being honest. God, Akari needed to sleep in some sunlight. “But, I do enjoy hearing your perspective.” The school administrator attempts to make Akari feel less embarrassed. The pro hero smiles at the creature’s kindness. 

“I’d like to go over some formal rules and policies U.A. has and then we can make your teaching position official.” The dog-like creature addressed and Nakamura took that as a sign to zone out. Her mind ran a mile a minute, mulling over things as little as what she was going to eat for dinner to more enticing things, like what kind of creature her future employer is. Is he a mouse? A dog? A bear? Truly fascinating stuff. She’d be lying if she said anything the man spoke about was interesting enough to break her train of thought. When she needed to sign a document, she did so mindlessly. As grateful as Akari was for this… inopportune opportunity, she wanted to relax in her new, albeit empty, apartment. 

After what seemed to be the 1800th document that needed initializing, the duo shook hands, or hand and paw, and went about their own respective business after the small bow Akari gave Principle Nezu. While Akari’s thoughts still lingered on what kind of creature her boss was, she absent-mindedly made her way to her apartment, dreading the day her mouth inevitably betrayed her and begged the creature to give her the gospel truth of what he exactly was.

[marcholasmoth]

OSRR: 3030

god i'm tired.

i didn't take a nap today! and i didn't get a ton of sleep last night, either. but i made it through the day conscious and i even got to see and spend time with joel.

also.

i told my mom today that i'm autistic.

after the "no you're not" "no, you're not!" and the "who said you were?!" commentary, i showed her a picture of allistic and autistic synapses and something must've clicked for her. because after she spent some time in the drug store looking for mucinex, she came out with stuff and asked me how to phrase a three-part instruction so it would make sense to me and not make her angry.

which, yknow.

is a big deal for linda.

so i was pretty impressed.

and then i got the opportunity to show her exactly how my brain works in action at the craft store. she was freaking out over something but i said "i got this" and i took over and solved the problem eloquently. so having first-hand examples of it are helpful for her because she can't picture things in her head. i didn't really imagine that it could've affected her thought processes.

it was sparked because she said something in the line at starbucks about me running over to rite aid to grab the mucinex and i said "can we at least pick up the starbucks first?" and she said, "well yeah, i didn't expect you to jump out of the car and go over now" to which i replied, "that's what it sounded like." she said "dad would say that too," and i was like it's now or never babey so i settled for now and i'm honestly really surprised. so that's good.

this is the same woman who asked me yesterday why i couldn't help her if i could lay down and read. she is wildly off the mark on some things but somehow gets close to others? on this one at least, she gets this:

yeah.

also i went to see wakanda forever tonight and it was really really good! the good news is i only cried for like a sixth of the movie. the bad news is that still equates to about half an hour.

but it was good. it felt like it kinda dragged in a few places, but grief tends to be like that.

two of its major themes are grief and loss, so it may be acutely painful for those who have lost a loved one recently. it was hard for me.

but it's good. it's like. it's really good.

anyway, im exhausted and i need to sleep.

[just-a-mod]

y’ever just test something and just

stare

why is he so hot got danngit

[cornerstorebitch]

please answer separately if you don't mind

when men check you out do you think it's a stronger position to pull a face expressing disgust or simply ignore it

what if the woman in question has the desire and will to express overt disapprobation but the curled lip or stony eye does not consistently have a deterrent effect (especially when it comes to someone with an effaced sense of shame, eg very unattractive or unhygienic man) --i.e., have you ever found a way to put men off that sort of broadly works without reading them as individuals

if i feel an acute sense of dislike when men that i don't know look at me for more than a cursory glance is this abnormal? if there's no way to make them stop then am i healthier entertaining vicious thoughts of castration and digging out eyes with spoons or just trying to pretend they don't exist? the latter feels like accepting defeat but the former tempts one to confrontations which could be unwise, although danger is certainly context dependent; for instance i always get away with comments like 'so sorry youve never learnt manners', but tbh most people don't have either sufficient depth or mental alertness to hear an insult in that statement

do you think it gives a prey-impression if a person does not enjoy making eye contact and avoids it in every context but manages to be argumentative and at least a bit assertive in other ways

(less important, but how comical do you think a belated response looks if it's sufficiently eloquent?)

about eye contact again, what if it isn't a matter of timidity but simple (although strong) disinclination to look at mob faces which hold too much individual data, these with few exceptions not being particularly relevant to one's life

i know this is a lot to answer, especially from the library; seems a distracting environment. i'd appreciate anything you can do though.

thanks always for your lucidity of thought and hope you're doing really well

dont take this as some sorta what would jesus do thing but i think the key to most of these questions is simply asking yourself what a man would do in the same situation. if some dude was getting actively stared down absolutely nobody would think it was out of line for him to ask that person what the fuck their problem is. thats all it takes in most situations lol its literally an expression of furry mammal instincts to not want something with forward facing eyes giving you the death stare. nobody likes it. you have to treat crazy people like theyre crazy or they dont ever stop acting like freaks in public. 

lack of eye contact almost always gives a prey impression on a subconscious level i would wager. like if you were to scan peoples brains or whatever. (how you would measure for that i dont know im not a doctor im just rewatching house) but most people are so profoundly conflict avoidant that just disagreeing or being assertive like you said is enough to get their hackles up. 

i think belated verbal responses are always jarring to people pretty much, which reads as comedy usually, but i guess it depends on the context. in any situation other than a verbal conversation it wouldnt make a difference

hope you are doing well too hi from the public library 

[e-vasong]

asdsjk your song remains the same au is so good i love love love that the remaining umbrella kids stay tethered together through vanya. could you share a bit about ben and his relationship with five? is he relieved to be away from the academy? grateful? a little bit angry? thank youuuu for sharing!!

this literally so sweet im crying.  and YES!

I don’t want to say that Five and Ben are closer in this AU than any other sibling combo, because I love literally every sibling duo/combo TUA has to offer and they are all special in their own ways.  What I will say is that Ben and Five in this AU know each other really well.  Ben in particular is really, really good at figuring on what’s going on in Five’s head at any given time.  It drives Five up the wall, because I think he tries his best to seem disaffected at all times, because he’s surrounded by people who are searching for any sign of weakness.  And he can fool all of them.  But Ben has a read on him that he can’t shake.

And in contrast, Five is very good at reading Ben for signs of physical discomfort (which is impressive because Ben has a very high pain tolerance) as well as emotional distress.  Literally anything else though?  Five cannot tell.

Five is ridiculously overprotective of all his siblings in this AU, in no small part because he’d been trying to plan a way to get them out from their father’s thumb when he was 15 and instead....accidentally yeeted himself and Ben into his siblings’ thirties.

If that wasn’t bad enough, his paranoia about his siblings’ wellbeing is aggravated by the fact that he’s spent the last two or three years constantly checking in on Ben’s health, monitoring him, trying to keep him safe from the circling sharks that are the Commission’s corrections and science divisions.

My point is that Five is on high alert all the time and was in a situation where he needed to be because the smallest thing could be an indication that things were about to go real sideways for him, and his meter is still a little skewed

Someone: [gives Ben a funny look]

Five, who is accustomed to ‘Ben getting funny looks’ being a precursor to ‘taking Ben apart like a science project’: I’m gonna stab them  🔪

Diego: NO

I’m not sure if Ben exactly feels relieved, because going from the Umbrella Academy to the Commission is very much a situation in which they have leapt from the frying pan into the fire.  But.  He makes many more friends than Five, because Five is stand-offish and defensive.  Ben makes friendly with Hazel, Lila, and some of the local paper-pushers, so while Five is off taking names, kicking ass, and playing psychological three-dimensional chess with Commission management, Ben has inadvertently become the people-person of the team.  And so while it’s awful, Ben can’t honestly say that nothing good ever came from it.

Ben really goes through it in this verse, but despite Five’s best efforts, Ben is very aware of how acutely Five is suffering.  A point of tension between them is that Ben keeps trying to help, and Five is very intent on turning down any assistance from Ben.  This pisses Ben off to no end.

And once they get away from the Commission, Ben quickly learns that he can get Five to take a break from hyperfixating on the impending Apocalypse/the hunt they’re facing from the Commission by looking sad and talking about how he’s spent the last three years in a lab.  And neither of those things are lies.  Ben likes to think of it as selectively leveraging the truth for his brother’s benefit.

Five: no fun.  only work.

Ben: [sighing heavily] its been so long since I had waffles :/ i just kinda want to go to a diner with all of you and eat junk food, like we used to sneak out and do when we were small

Five: ...some fun. then work.

[loyally-unfaithful]

—; i’m bad behaviour but i do it in the best way

word count: 6320

pairing: connor | rk800/gender-neutral!reader

genre: fluff; kinda crack treated seriously

summary: « as a wise man once said: “you haven’t lived until you’ve committed at least one blue collar crime” – wh-i… literally no one said that! he sputtered in bewilderment. – i just did… you said as you stomped on your cigarette. or are you calling me unwise? – yes! that’s exactly what i’m calling you! he exclaimed. you chuckled. – oh come on… live a little. it’s not even that bad. you consoled. »

the android before you was conflicted. you could tell from his yellow led, which kept flickering and spinning. the guy was seriously debating this. he’s intrigued. he wants to try it out, you just have to egg him on.

« i won’t tell if you don’t? you offered. »

you’re sure you had a harder time persuading others compared to this detective model android...

a/n: the time has come. i have inspiration. i have motivation. i managed to unblock myself. i think it’s because of stress? i couldn’t write because of stress lmfao or maybe it’s cuz of that oc x canon snippet i did idk.

both.

and uh, the story went out of hand and evolved by itself.

ping. a small popup in the top right corner of his hud caught his attention as he rearranged his folders, neatly putting them in his bag.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[ 1 ᴺᴱᵂ ᴹᴱˢˢᴬᴳᴱ: Love ]

> hey im outside waiting for u xx Noted. <

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

he quickly replied and picked up the pace, securing his beanie and wrapping his scarf. grabbing his bag, he excused himself: « see you tomorrow, lieutenant. – wait! connor! the younger man stopped in his tracks, and turned to face the lieutenant. – just… you know how i feel about [ y/n ]... the android patiently waited for him to elaborate. – if you don’t feel comfortable doing what they want you to do, just... know that you don’t have to. he instructed. and if they force you, or hu— – hank. he gently interrupted. the older man stopped his tirade, a mix of emotions on his face: surprise. concern. annoyance. mostly concern. – hank, he restarted. i’ll be fine. he reassured him. i know you don’t trust them, and i can’t force you to, but have a little faith. “in me” in that last sentence unspoken. – i… fuck, i know… but- he grumbled. just, if you don’t feel safe, call me. ok? – of course. he answered. »

before stepping out of the building, the android looked back at his father figure, « take care, see you in the morning. », he did a small wave and threw his best pacifying smile. acute scans heard the older man’s resigned sigh and the twinkle of lingering concern in his features.

once out of the building, his sensors noted the drastic drop in temperature, the warmth and ambient brightness of within was replaced by the cold and windy dullness. it was a rather chilly night, clocking in at 14 degrees celsius, wind blowing rather harshly. wrapping his coat tighter around himself, he heads for where you normally park: take a right from the precinct, a few blocks away. when he reached you, you were leaning on your motorbike, preoccupied with something on your phone, and only noticing the android through his footsteps. looking up, you smirked, and stuffed your mobile into your pocket: « glad to see that they freed you, you said, flicking a cigarette butt away. – yes… i hope i didn’t make you wait too long? he greeted back. – nah, it’s fine. »

you chucked the spare helmet you brought towards him—which he caught effortlessly—« come on, i wanna show you something. »

the ride to the destination was uneventful: it was the usual fare. you sped through the traffic, weaving through the different vehicles at a speed connor was sure was much over the speed limit (he has since given up on informing you as you seemed to ignore him, not keen on slowing down anytime soon).

this location seemed to be some distance outside of the city, as the street grew narrower and darker. the sounds of other vehicles no longer accompanying them. all he could hear was the air that you were blazing through and the humming of the motorcycle underneath you. the cold wind blew from the direction you were heading, and he could feel the rush of air against his body, a sensation that, he figured, would feel chilly and unpleasant if he could “feel” cold. still, he instinctively clung tighter to your body to preserve body heat. he watched the scenery change, sights buzzing by; the dark sky grew clearer and clearer, until a few bright stars were visible unlike back in the heart of the city.

the motorcycle slowed down to a halt, and he dismounted the vehicle. « here we are, you struck out a hand to dramatically gesture at the building. my usual haunt. »—the android squinted as he scrutinised the place, but before he could get a good look, his sight abruptly turned to black, his eyes not yet caught up with the sudden change in lighting. it was as if someone turned off the light switch, the world suddenly plunged into darkness. and apparently somebody did: you finally joined him after turning off the bike, killing the only light source. nudging him to alert him of your presence, you pulled out a flashlight from your bag and flicked it on, illuminating the area once more. you headed towards the building, and twirled to face him. « tada! my happy place, where i usually come to relax after weeks of finals. you announced pridefully. »

[ ᴬᴺᴬᴸᵞˢᴵᴺᴳ ]

he regarded the place apprehensively. to say that it was what he expected it to be would be lie: what he expected to be a warm and rustic cottage, one that exudes cosiness, turned out to be the old remains of an unfinished construction, merely the skeleton of what would be commonhold. it was dark and dreary, shadows covering the empty spaces and the walls. some of the surface were left unfinished, making the “building” perforated, cold and unfriendly. brutal, even. It was clearly dirty, not taken care of, with rubble littering the floors. he analysed the building and was concerned over its structural integrity. it didn’t seem that stable… surely you wouldn’t…?

you noticed your boyfriend’s souring impression and quickly tried to redeem the monument in his eyes: « that look on you face… you hate this... don’t you? you winced. your question caught him off guard, causing him to fumble for a recovery. – i-uh… no! it… has a unique charm. – you’re allowed to be honest, you know? you sighed. – it’s … certainly not what i had in mind, he winced. you bit your lip in a nervous smile. it’s far from prim and proper for straight laced connor, but you hope that this doesn’t end in a disastrous date. – give it a chance, let me show you up there… you’ll love it! you grinned, trying to lighten the mood. »

entering the structure almost felt like entering a different reality: the white noises of the outside world, the hooting of owls, the chirping and buzzing of insects and the howl of the wind were dampened as soon as he followed you in. it was a different realm, where shade crawled about and reigned, the silence deafening and oppressive. « mind the step. you alerted him. » the murk did not deter you one bit, and, knowing the layout of the structure by heart, you led him through different twist and turns, avoiding what he deduced would be multiple deadends. only the light of the flashlight illuminating the way. he followed you obediently, not straying too far away from you, at the risk of becoming lost in this labyrinth. he observed the environment, perturbed. the area contained so many potential hazards, and the thought that you frequented this place often distressed him slightly: though he did not doubt your ability to take care of yourself, he didn’t like the idea that you could’ve potentially hurt yourself every time you went here. he snapped out of his musing millimetres away from colliding with you and directed his attention to what you were currently preoccupied by: a ledge that led to the second floor. « hey babe… how much do you weigh? he took a few moments to answer, but you quickly rephrased. – sorry, you chuckled, that turned out more personal that i thought. can you give me a leg up? you nodded at the protruding wall. the stairs that lead to the upper floors are blocked by rubble so i’m afraid this is our only way up. »

he simply nodded, you securing your light on your belt as he put himself in position against the wall to boost you up. the climb went through easily, and you quickly turned around to pull him up after his running jump. you both quickly stood up, the android dusting himself, ridding his clothes of soot and dust, before you start your trek once more.

« i was wondering—assuming you usually frequent this place on your own—how do you get over that wall by yourself? he asked. – with great difficulty, you answered truthfully. the android rolled his eyes. – obviously, he says, in that lilt that never fails to make you chuckle. – yeah? well i hope you’re not too tired today, ‘cause we have a bit more scaling to do. don’t want you slowing me down, you teased. – as if. he scoffed. »

once on the highest floor, you led him towards an open chamber whose floor was largely intact but had a large gaping hole on one side—one that helped ventilate the room who, compared to the rest of the building, was properly aerated, the air much cleaner and safer to breathe than the musty and stale odor down below. the opening allowed the moonlight to bathe the room in a soft glow, illuminating the occupants with an ethereal white. a second source of light caught his attention: a small fire that you ignited inside a metal drum, a flame whose heat was a pleasant contrast to the cold, an ember that highlighted the place with a stark, warm, orange glow against the satellite’s smooth, cold, bluish-white light.

you sat down unceremoniously on a worn out and unfinished windowsill—resembling more like a vaguely rectangular opening—the android joining you on the opposite side. lighting a cigarette, you took a deep breath and sighed, leaning back and gazing into the sable sky decorated by a plethora of stars. the man facing you mimicked your movements and gazed at the celestial bodies, little lights twinkling in the dark, innocent and brilliant. able to take his time to view the heavens, he noted that it resembles an elysian painting, tinted an aegean blue. accompanying the sight was the rumbles of a rock song he wasn’t familiar with, probably from a rock concert a few kilometres away—making a note to find out and identify the venue. he could feel the deep thrumming of the bass and vaguely hear the melody, and though the dampened music made it slightly harder for him to pin it down, he managed to identify it: a hit song from a local indie band. he turned to face you, your form peacefully resting against the wall behind you, eyes closed; features relaxed. breathing deeply, you blew puffs of smoke with a lazy, yet content, smile.

« so? what d’you think? your eyes were directly on him now. i know you had your reservations about this place...  »

there was a small twitch in your smile, a tell he caught that told him of your nervousness. despite his previous opinion of this place, he could see why you liked it, and considered it your happy place: it was a distance away from the big city, the air pollution and the noise. it was quieter and calmer here, without any of the loud colours and chatter that never seemed to cease. the location also provided a good view of the woods around it and the elegant skies above, along with ambient music. one that certainly fit your tastes, but at a distance that didn’t make the atmosphere overbearing. it was a good place to recharge; to rest and to think, away from the cumbersome responsibilities, if only for a little while.

« i like it... it has a unique charm. he found himself repeating himself. it’s a good place to escape. – do you? as if a switch was flicked, your uncertain demeanour was replaced with a cheeky grin. i’m glad this place grew on you! you stood up and placed yourself closer to the android, sinking back on him. – i... like places like these and exploring them… just glad i didn’t bore you away. »

you sighed as you settled comfortably against his chest, his arms quickly wrapping around your waist to cradle your form in a tight embrace. he replied with a hum of approval. placing a hand on yours, he brings it up and presses a kiss on your palm. you gently caressed his cheek as he did. « i’m never bored when i get to spend time with you, my love. he says softly, earnestly. – you’re not half bad yourself, babe. you replied. »

he smacked your arm in faux disdain as you placed a kiss on his jaw, and the conversation ended after that. It was quiet, but it wasn’t an awkward silence; no, it was a comfortable one. no other words uttered. just the two of you, the crackle of the flame, your thoughts and the heavens. connor is tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand, resting his head on the top of yours—his focus switching from the galaxy above and you—while you simply relish on the warmth of his presence and hum along to the song playing in the background. though you knew he meant what he said, you notice him start to fidget and become restless. you’re never sure if it was due to the fact that he was a tireless android or if it was simply a tic of his, but he’s unable to simply sit and be. he’s already analysed all that could be analysed in this place, and you know it’s something he can’t help but do. he had a constant need to be up and about, doing something or preoccupying his mind with something.

« beautiful night, tonight, isn’t it? you started, catching his attention. there was a few moments of silence before he answered. – but certainly not as charming as you. – ha. smooth one, anderson. » the flame in the drum is dying, the heat it brought fading away: an attestation of the time that has passed. it’s been that long huh? the band has changed to a different song, though it shows no signs of finishing anytime soon. you decided it was time to put connor out of his misery and do something else.

snapping up unto your feet—startling the android slightly—you offer a hand and pulled him up: « i got an idea. and it’s probably going to sound like a terrible, inane idea… – how foolish are we talking? he asked, unfazed after going through with multiple of your “dates”; including, but not limited to, urban exploration, base jumping, and graffiti (he still doesn’t know why he agreed… he remembers you saying « rebel against the humans! ») – i mean… it’s pretty tame considering the stuff i proposed before. you shrugged. he raised a brow in suspicion. – you... might be charged with criminal trespass… you admit and he looks horrified. but! but! you continued. that’s only if you get caught! which you wouldn’t be if you’re with me! you reassured him. – what are you planning to do, exactly? – i was thinking about sneaking in the concert and just bask in the energy. head for the moshpit or something. you’re bouncing off your ideas, hoping it might interest him. have fun, enjoy the music. – i’ve researched that venue, it’s a private property! do you know the charges that’ll be pressed against you? he asked, perplexed. – duh! it’s a misdemeanour trespass, as is stated in the michigan penal code: county jail for 30 days and/or a fine. section 750.552.. you answered nonchalantly. it don’t really matter! as i said: we won’t get caught. – how are so calm about breaking these laws? he questioned, perplexed. for a law student, you seem so adamant to break them… – look, con. i’m not gonna force you to do this. i love you, and i understand that you have a reputation to uphold, being a detective and all. you assured him. i don’t want you to feel that i’m peer pressuring you into this. – i… i don’t.. you notice how his eyes shift, looking to the far left, unable to make  eye contact. you notice that he’s conflicted, that he wants to do this, but doesn’t. you sigh. – look, we can walk back to the bike while you think about it, and you can tell me your decision once we’re there. alright? »

he doesn’t answer, but you know he heard you, so you start to make your way back down, the android following you wordlessly. once down by your bike, you lean on it—rather similarly to how he met you earlier today—and nod at him: « so? what’s you’re decision? – this sounds like a bad idea… still disagreeing, but not outright denying it. you meant what you said: you don’t want to make him do what he doesn’t want to do, but a partner in crime doesn’t sound half bad. you huff. – connor anderson. the connor anderson himself, who snuck into jericho. the same one who infiltrated cyberlife tower in what seemed to be a suicide mission. is scared of a little trespassing? you teased. live a little! – i don’t see how me committing a crime would contributes to my satisfaction with life. – haven’t you heard? as a wise man once said: “you haven’t lived until you’ve committed at least one blue collar crime” – wh-i… literally no one said that! he sputtered in bewilderment. – i just did… you said as you stomped on your cigarette. or are you calling me unwise? – yes! that’s exactly what i’m calling you! he exclaimed. you chuckled. – oh come on… live a little. it’s not even that bad. you consoled. »

the android before you was conflicted. you could tell from his yellow led, which kept flickering and spinning. the guy was seriously debating this. he’s intrigued. he wants to try it out, you just have to say the right things. problem with the rk800 models: they were much too curious for their own good.

« i won’t tell if you don’t? you offered. »

you seat yourself on your bike and turn back to face him: « so, are you in? a moment of silence. the android seemed to have a renewed confidence. – as a law enforcement officer, what’s stopping me from arresting you right now? his eyes held a newfound determination. you smirked lazily. – absolutely nothing. »

he swears to god, or ra9, or whatever higher power there is, that you will be the death of him.

« get off. your ordered. he followed the command without a word. – we’re gonna walk the rest of the way. you added. »

the concert venue was now at a reasonable distance away, and it was within eyeshot. however, that also meant that everything was much louder. he could now feel the boom of the loud music, and make out the lyrics.

« so i’ve stalked this place before, and i know an entry. here’s the plan: we’re gonna immediately go to the right side. the fence that side is less guarded, since there’s a ditch that leads there; we can hide in there. however there was a drone, just one, and a cctv camera—and we also need to look out for guards—alors fais gaffe1 ok? this far along and he still seemed hesitant, so you give one final push. – too late to back out now buddy. you’ll be fine though. just follow my lead and disable that camera. – wait! you glanced back at him. once inside, what do we do? – just act natural and have fun. you grinned. » and with that, you took off, making your way to the future crime scene. he sighed, still unsure on how you managed to coerce him into this, but jogged to catch up to you.

you hopped down in the ditch, connor not too far behind, and you quickly mentioned, while pointing at a sign that said “no androids allowed”: « by the way, you might want to keep that led of yours hidden. i’ve got some bobby pins if you need ‘em. you motioned to the beanie that he was currently adjusting. »

once he seemed satisfied with his changes, you asked him if he could tamper with the camera, which he swiftly disabled. you come out of your little hiding space and start climbing up the chain link fence, telling connor to keep an eye out for the security drone currently patrolling. what you forgot to tell him was the part where you were going to take it out, catching the android off guard as you throw yourself off the top part of the fence you were clinging on onto the passing drone. your swinging and flailing, combined with your weight pulling it down, caused the contraption to crash and the android—who seemed to have snapped out of his stupor—grabbed a metal pipe lying near the barrier and proceeded to smash the machine. chucking the object to the side, he went to help you up on you feet: « are you alright? – i’m fine. you looked at the metallic junk that was once a drone. we make a pretty good team, don’t you think? he looked back at the destroyed drone. – i don’t want to keep thinking about it… – destruction of property. you clicked your tongue. i’m proud of you con. you pretended to wipe a tear off your eyes. – let’s just go. he turned away , and you follow him up the fence with a chuckle. – cheer up con. you hopped over the chain. it’s okay… you’ve done worse. »

he was about to retort, when a figure seemed to head your way, and you both managed to duck out into a corner before being discovered by the flashlight. when it was clear, you snuck out of the hiding spot and proceeded to join the masses. it was different. he’s never been to a concert before. sure, he was a fan of rock, often listening to it with hank, but experiencing it live was so very different. he knew it would be loud, deafening, but he didn’t expect the surge of excitement and vivacity. it was exhilarating, a completely different world: the bright colours, the loud ambiance, the energy of the music. the android couldn’t help, but let himself get a bit excited. he was glad he decided to come though he’d never admit it to you.

you both floated around the edge of the crowd, the venue being full. it wasn’t a particularly big place, but there were quite a lot of people there, you mused out loud. must be a pretty popular band, their song being catchy enough. at some point or another, you both cheered along with the crowd (though he was much meeker in his cries), and for some reason, decided to try and wade through the people to get closer to the front—the moshpit—this time, the android seemed to play along with your plan without complaint.

he sort of wished he had now. you don’t really know when it happened, whether it was when you rummaged through the people or during a collision while moshing, lost in the intensity of the crowd—every member in state of ecstatic delirium. the beanie came off. when he realised, he quickly hid his led, which was a disturbed yellow, and notified you. you didn’t have to hear what he said to know what was happening. you quickly led him towards the “exit”, the immediate crowd—who saw the black sheep—parting like the red sea as you crossed, but as your neared the edge of the venue security finally reached and cornered you. you quickly placed yourself besides connor, sending across a relaxed body language. you discreetly grabbed his hand, and whispered « play along » which he wouldn’t have heard if he were human.

« how may we help you sir? you asked, flashing your friendliest smile. – i’m concerned about this friend of yours… his eyes glanced at your boyfriend, but you keep your eyes on him. connor was unfazed. perhaps because he trusted your ability in getting yourselves out of this mess—awww, you’re flattered—or that his model are used to high stress environment—most likely, but you certainly hope it was also because of the former. this was a darker area of the place, so it would obscure most of your features, and the band was still playing in the background—ignorant to the revelation—which would somewhat hide your voices. – what about him? curt and indignant. – androids are not allowed in this area. he pointed to the anti-android post outside the fence. the fence that led to freedom. i’m going to have to bring him in for trespass, and you for smuggling him in. androids were recognised as their own sentient species, but laws protecting them have yet to be passed: android-free zones were still legal. most places in the city removed their anti-android signs, but people from the periphery seemed more resistant to change. fuck. – oh that old thing? the led? that don’t prove nothing. you shrugged. be cool [y/n]. it’s just a temporary tattoo. motherfucker lost a bet. you thank whatever gods above that the rk800 models could somewhat control their led colour, so that his remained blue. – is that so? he turned to connor. you seemed adamant on hiding that led of yours. the asshat must have a grudge against androids, huh? You wished he’d just kick you out. make life easier for both parties. – it’s a fake tattoo. he played along. and it’s a bad one at that—i don’t want to be associated with those plastics… he grumbled. you cackled. – well, maybe you shouldn’t have lost that bet, michael. the guard in front of you grunted, displeased. he really wanted to bring in an android huh? prove something to someone? or just pure malice? you never really paid attention in psych class. – if that’s the case, since you’re both humans, i’d like to see your ticket.  »

you went rigid. clenching your jaw you planned your next course of action. you have your phone in your pocket, but there was nothing. you could surrender it, and run away as he was distracted, but he could then trace it back to you and press charges… you could fight? the both of you could easily overpower him, outrunning him wouldn’t be a problem either. but you’ll never hear the end of it if you decided to hurt someone when you had a more pacifist option, so you chose to run. it was abrupt. you were in a standoff, one party waiting for the other to make their move. and all of the sudden you make a break for it and dash off for the fence, your partner running for it too. there was a bit of a scuffle but you managed to fend him off long enough for you to scramble up the fence. the man quickly caught up and yanked your leg—alarming you—though a well placed kick from the other freed you long enough to jump off into the other side, ready to make a dash for your life as you land.

the two of you ran until you reached your bike, which was quite a distance away (thank fuck for that, at least he won’t follow you that far—unless he’s really fucking persistent), where you collapsed on the spot and panted slightly. the android himself was looking slightly weary. heavy breathing turned into wheezing laughter as the absurdity of what just transpired settled into your mind.

« i can’t believe that actually happened! you exclaimed between laughs. – we barely got out of there! he chided. we were almost arrested! – but we weren’t. told ya’ con. should’a believed me. you tsk-ed, having calmed down from the giggles. i’m insulted to be quite honest. you exploded into another fit of laughter. – i don’t know how i managed to get you to do this with me! you howled. – never again. he stated, a finality in his tone. – oh come on, you loved it. you rolled your eyes. he stared at you in silence, unimpressed. it was true, but you’ll never hear that from him. – i hate you, he frowned. – love you too babe, you responded, running a hand through your hair. »

he sighed and let himself fall beside you. taking out your backpack once more, you rummaged through and handed him an item: an inconspicuous water bottle. when asked what it was, you answered « thirium. that’s what you guys drink right? » as you opened your own water bottle, gulping down its content. he informed you that androids don’t need to constantly replenish the thirium in his body like humans did with water—only drinking them when they have lost a significant amount—but that he appreciated the gesture. “it’s the thought that counts”.

you huffed, slightly bashful, going into a tirade about how you can’t keep up with the constantly evolving technology. « you’re starting to sound like hank now. » he chuckled and you grimaced and pretended to vomit in response, though you joined him in his laughter. you both spent time sitting there. just breathing. coming down from your adrenaline rush.

« wanna crash at my place? you offered. – i’d be more than happy to, he obliged. »

that night, you both slept like a rock. well, you did. you completely conked out. connor peacefully entered stasis as he usually did. you arrived at your flat sometime in the morning and passed out. barely managing to blearily have a “shower”—dousing yourself in water—before passing out.

come later in the morning—when the light shone softly and the white noise of the city: ambient sound of traffic, chatter, chirping of pigeons—you were sleeping peacefully when you felt someone shift beside you, rousing you slightly from your slumber. you groaned as your head gains enough coherence to remember about university and the brunt of the waking world. think you’re gonna play hooky today. maybe kenneth can take notes for you… you made a note to ask him later...

unwrapping himself from you, your partner stood up to get ready to go to work—going off to change into neater clothings that he stored in your house and getting decent—and went off to prepare a pot of coffee for you and stick bread in the toaster. feeling the sudden loss of heat as he went away, your sleep heavy mind blindly felt the portion of the bed that he usually slept on—the right—patting it, looking for the missing presence. this went on for a few minutes and your limb felt heavy as your tired body fell back asleep. you resigned to simply poke your arm from under the cover, hoping it’d catch someone. you were half asleep when the reaching hand finally found something, as it was held and gently guided to another’s cheek, yet another kiss pressed on your palm. you felt your heart melt, and hummed approvingly. « stay. you mumbled. he smiled at your naïve request. – i have to go to work. – skip work… f… ight the government… you yawned. – you know i can’t do that, my love. – i… order you... you sleep riddled mind was struggling to keep up as you slowly dozed again. to… – i’ll see you again this evening, i’ll be right back. oh yeah it’s saturday, you reminded yourself. no classes. you mentally cheered. – okk… you were going to pass out again. »

his warmth left you, and you find yourself yearning for it again. before he left, he glanced back towards you—practically buried under the duvet, only visible as a lump under the blanket and the hand poking through the right side. « i love you, [y/n] »

you were too gone to reply, but regardless, he left for work with a small smile.

work went on as usual. filling reports was boring, but it had to be done. at least he could finish them in record time, built to be more efficient at it than your typical human officer. being a detective assigned to the anti-android crimes taskforce, it was rather quiet right now, and though he was grateful that androids weren’t being harmed, it was terribly boring. though colin, who had to start all the way back at the beginning as a beat cop, seemed to be enjoying a peaceful break. he sighed for the umpteenth time as he fidgeted and fiddled with his coin, having already abused the fun out of his multiple pens and pencils. he missed spending time with you; at least it was exciting and unpredictable (getting to be with you is an enjoyable bonus). he stared blankly at his coin and sighed again. his father figure gave him a look across the desk—“did anything happen?”. he shook his head.—“no nothing bad or dangerous happened while i was with [y/n].”. the android then asked if he fancied a cup of coffee from the coffee shop across the road. the old man simply grunted.

« you can just take a walk, you don’t need to use me as a fucking excuse. – alright. he answered placidly. »

the android thought about walking to stretch his legs. maybe go to that bakery that you fancied so much. you did like the strawberry shortcake a crazy amount. but as he would find out, the slow and easy moments shouldn’t be taken for granted: a very disgruntled man, who stormed in to file a police report, happened to run in with the android, still somewhat deep in his musings. oh boy was he in for a rude awakening.

they both promptly apologise, however, once they saw each other they instantly recognised each other—though the detective kept his face neutral. « you! you’re the fucking android that trespassed into a restricted area! he accused. straight faced, he replied calmly. – i am indeed an android, but i believe you may have accused the wrong one. there often many iterations of the same model. he cursed his stars and the fates that put him in this situation. one that meant he was, as hank would put it, in deep shit. »

he was glad most people didn’t know there were only 2 rk800 currently in circulation: him and his brother, colin, whom he was trying to contact. as connor continued trying to placate the angry man, and deny his involvement in anything, he heard his brother’s voice come through.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[ ᵂᴴᴬᵀ'ˢ ᵁᴾ? ] > [ ᵀᴴᴱᴿᴱ ᴵˢ ᴬ ᴹᴬᴺ ᴼᵁᵀ ᴴᴱᴿᴱ, ᶜᴸᴱᴬᴿᴸᵞ ᵛᴱᴿᵞ ᶜᴿᴼˢˢᴱᴰ, ᵂᴴᴼ ᵂᴼᵁᴸᴰ ᴸᴵᴷᴱ ᵀᴼ ᶠᴵᴸᴱ ᴬ ᴾᴼᴸᴵᶜᴱ ᴿᴱᴾᴼᴿᵀ. ] he decided to give him a clear picture.

[ SENDING AUDIO-VISUAL FEED TO RK800 #313 248 317-60—COLIN ] [ LINK ESTABLISHED. WAITING PERMISSION… ] [ ACCEPTED. ]

> [ ᴬ ᵀᴿᴱˢᴾᴬˢˢ ᴼᴺ ᴾᴿᴵᵛᴬᵀᴱ ᴾᴿᴼᴾᴱᴿᵀᵞ ᴮᵞ ᴬ ᴰᴱᵛᴵᴬᴺᵀ ] there was a moment of silence before his brother replied. [ ᵂᴴᴬᵀ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴴᴱᴸᴸ ᴰᴵᴰ ᵞᴼᵁ ᵀᵂᴼ ᴳᴱᵀ ᴵᴺᵀᴼ ᴸᴬˢᵀ ᴺᴵᴳᴴᵀ? ] > [ ᴵ ᴬᴾᴾᴿᴱᶜᴵᴬᵀᴱ ᴴᴼᵂ ᵞᴼᵁ ᴵᴹᴹᴱᴰᴵᴬᵀᴱᴸᵞ ᴬˢˢᵁᴹᴱᴰ ᴵᵀ ᵂᴬˢ ᵁˢ. ] connor replied, sarcastic but devoid of humour. [ ᵂᴱᴸᴸ? ᵂᴬˢ ᴵᵀ ᴿᴱᴬᴸᴸᵞ ᵞᴼᵁ ᵀᵂᴼ? ] the android, who somehow felt a migraine develop—even though that shouldn’t be possible—sighed. > [ ᴸᴼᴺᴳ ˢᵀᴼᴿᵞ ˢᴴᴼᴿᵀ, ᵂᴱ ᵀᴿᴱˢᴾᴬˢˢᴱᴰ ᴵᴺᵀᴼ ᴬᴺ ᴬᴿᴱᴬ ᵂᵂ ˢᴴᴼᵁᴸᴰ'ᵛᴱ ᴬᵛᴼᴵᴰᴱᴰ. ] > [ˢᴱᴺᴰ ᴴᴱᴸᴾ? ] [ ᵞᴼᵁ? ᶜᴼᴹᴹᴵᵀᴱᴰ ᴬ ᶜᴿᴵᴹᴱ ᴼᴺ ᵞᴼᵁᴿ ᴼᵂᴺ ᵛᴼᴸᴵᵀᴵᴼᴺ? ]

the android could hear his brother cackle at his misery. though outside of earshot, the sound echoes in his mind as the link was not yet severed.

[ ᴺᴬᴴ, ᵞᴼᵁ'ᴿᴱ ᴼᴺ ᵞᴼᵁᴿ ᴼᵂᴺ ᴼᴺ ᵀᴴᴵˢ ᴼᴺᴱ ] [ ᴳᴼᴼᴰ ᴸᵁᶜᴷ ᵀᴴᴼᵁᴳᴴ. ] [ ᴴᴬᴺᴷ'ˢ ᴳᴼᴺᴺᴬ ᴮᴱ ᴾᴵˢˢᴱᴰ ] and with that, his brother abandoned him.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the man was absolutely irate, convinced that he was the one who trespassed in the venue—he wasn’t wrong—be he kept accusing someone of the same profile as him, but named “michael”. you really did him a favour on that one. it seemed like salvation had come however, as hank intercept the confrontation—the man calmed down after seeing a human officer. his brother must’ve informed the lieutenant (connor wants to thank him, but not), knowing how the appearance of two rk800s would only aggravate the situation. through a stroke of luck, the man didn’t have enough evidence to successfully file a report—against an rk800 named “michael”... who didn’t exist.

but to say that hank was pissed was an understatement. thus begins the walk of shame as hank demanded to « talk in private ». at the end of a severe tongue-lashing, decorated with many “fuck”s and “shit”s, he was in a sour mood and positively fuming. forget the shortcake. he was absolutely going to get back at you for this.

you were snoozing peacefully, off in dreamworld, when you woke up to the buzzing of your phone. groggy, you ran you hand under the pillows and felt for the object until you found it. checking it revealed that you 27 missed calls from an unknown number and a few message from them:

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

unknown number [ two missed message ]

> what the fuck did you get connor into? > ???????

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

bzz. bzz. a new message?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

unknown number [ 1 new message ]

> i know you saw the messages, fuckibg answer

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you also had a new message from connor, though his message didn’t bode well for you either:

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

connard2 anderson <3 [ 1 missed message ]

> we need to talk. > ):<

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the use of the emoji made you chuckle, but you were scared of what the future brought for you. oh boy… you were in deep shit weren’t you…

e͟p͟i͟l͟o͟g͟u͟e͟:

you lived to see another day. hank gave you an even more brutal scolding than what connor received, and you swore that if this were a shitty choice-that-matters game you’d see a metre for his friendship go down. not that there was much there in the first place.

connor gave an even more punishing sanction: he gave you the absolute silent treatment for a month. no talking, no hugs nor cuddles, and only the odd texts once in a blue moon. an absolutely miserable 31 days for you, spent by sulking. safe to say this was a punishment you’ll never forget, and one that will discourage you from ever trying that kind of stunt ever again.

or at least when connor’s around. it’s free game when it’s just you by yourself. connor knows this and simply sighs in resignation and just hopes you don’t get yourself in potentially future career ruining situation...

f͟o͟o͟t͟n͟o͟t͟e͟s

1. french expression that i was too lazy to translate, essentially means “watch out/stay alert”,,, somewhere along those lines, but informal. 2. connard is a french word pronounced almost like connor, but it means shithead. reader i have a strange sense of humour.

like my work? consider buying me a coffee // checking out my masterlist | links can be found on my desc

[normal-thoughts-official]

Tb to when someone brought up Magnus and Alec picking up each others habits and Matt said Alec wouldn't wear makeup and stuff. Sir, if Magnus asked him to he absolutely would, even if it's only a little. He can't say no to the most beautiful man in existence, he's not that strong. Also the idea of Alec wearing subtly pretty things because Magnus thinks he'd look nice and it makes him happy is cute. And maybe I associate pretty things with being happy. Idk where I'm going with this, sorry :/

dont apologize!! i actually love this ask, and it made me thing of pretty things being, like, lowkey a form of love language for magnus?

like look we all know about how magnus uses pretty things to armor up, be it his clothing, his tasteful apartment, even his fancy dates - he surrounds himself with this air of refinement and taste, and it makes him feel in control, and safe, and he can both hind behind it and draw strength/inspiration from it, to keep his front running, you know what i mean? it makes him feel safe, and grounded

there's plenty of on the nose examples about this (the way he struggled to keep himself pretty when he lost his magic, look at me, can you honestly say you like this?, a tiger has stripes, i have eyeliner, etc) but a more subtle example that i only recently noticed is when Lorenzo gives him his magic transfusion. the first thing he does is to change his clothes/style, and like he could have gone for anything to make sure it was working, but he chose to change his clothes, because this was not just about checking that it worked, but proving to himself that it was real, that he was safe now, and what better way to do that than completely change his outfit? immediately he feels more calm, in control, its his first instinct and i think that says a lot

so like in a way making the people he loves pretty, sometimes, feels like he's doing something to protect them too? like you look at raphael's outfits and there's a lot of stuff that looks suspiciously like Magnus' stuff, and obviously Raphael doesn't bother with fashion as much as Magnus (doesn't wear accessories, etc) and also when he went to Detroit he was always wearing jeans and t-shirts so like. i get the distinct impression that all his vests and nice fitting pants and all that stuff were gifts from Magnus. and they all have the same vibe, dark, covering most of his body, very serious and edgy-looking, just like Magnus' clothes on s2 and s3, when things were the hardest for him. so what if he bought/gave Raphael these clothes because he felt like he was helping protect him?

or when alec was like "id rather have my own clothes" magnus' instant reaction was to go and summon them, and while yes that obviously has to do with his overeager to help/make others comfortable thing, i think it also speaks to the simple fact that this matters to him

(sidenote: with him being trans this makes even more sense, because Magnus is acutely aware of how important it is to present himself the way you want/mean to, how it can quite literally be life-saving, how it can make such a difference to your comfort and well being. so yeah)

and so it would make sense that sometimes he expressed love/care through stuff like this, like helping Alec with his suit before a particularly important clave (or even family) meeting, adding in small accessories to help him feel more confident, etc; or when theyre going to pandemonium, sometimes doing his eyeliner, or undoing the buttons of his shirt, or just generally trying to make him look more club-ready so he feels more comfortable? or when Madzie hits a particularly important milestone he gets her new clothes, etc. and he likes taking Alec on fancy dates around the world, showing him the riches all around, because obviously he loves it, loves the different cultures and aesthetics and tastes, but also just as a way to sooth both of their nerves and have them both feel a little grounded. like just using these small details as a way to ensure that the people he loves are protected, and ready, and taken care of. and they all see what he's doing, and let him, and treasure it, because if it matters to Magnus it matters to them. and in return, they also give Magnus stuff like hoodies and sweatpants and comforters to remind him that he doesn't need to be in full armor all the time, that he also gets to relax and that he deserves to feel safe and not like he needs to have his arsenal at the ready, and wow im weirdly emo about this didndkjdndodm

[solace-sun]

Not The Typical Way You Meet a Soulmate Chapter Two (Solangelo)

Over the years, Nico had become best friends with Gatorade, Pedialyte, and Ibuprofen, especially after nights like last. Nico used these like shields against his hangovers, but every so often he'd find himself in a drought of Gatorade, or maybe he would get too drunk to remember to hydrate himself. Either way, he always had to face the headache of a hangover once in a while; it was the price he had to pay for his fun.

He regained consciousness on his twin size mattress, with a dim and blurry recollection of the night before. Highlighted in his memory, however, remained Will's impression, his blonde locks, and careful blue eyes. The image made Nico's stomach do flips, but then again, that could just be his hangover.

Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he became acutely aware of the piercing pain through his skull, the shakes that came in waves from his core, and the faint sense of nausea rising from his throat. He still wore last night's clothes, which now hung awkwardly off his frame; too tight in all the wrong areas and too loose in others.

He felt like shit.

The more awake he was, the more conscious he grew, the grosser he felt. Wrapping an arm around himself, he pretended to be anywhere but the present, wishing he was somewhere other than his besides his shoddy apartment, but the hammering pain in his head made it hard to focus. He ended up closing his eyes and wishing, praying, he could go back to sleep.

Maybe Nico enjoyed the drunken buzz he'd get at parties, but he never came to welcome the pounding hangover that followed. He never learned to embrace the feeling of a twisted gut or headaches like sledgehammers in his skull.

Unfortunately for Nico, last night's wrath didn't stop with a hangover, he wasn't that lucky. Last night's vengeance was about to enter for round two through the door of Nico's room, in the form of a very unhappy Hazel Levesque.

The door flew open, slamming against the wall behind it.

"Nico!" She shouted, "What the fuck man?"

Well, shit. She's mad about something.

Nico rubbed a sleepy eye awake, "Hazel... Please be quiet. My head hurts," He groaned.

"It's because you're hungover, isn't it?" She accused, "Whatever, that doesn't even matter right now. You got in a fight with someone at the party last night?"

"Who told you?" Nico asked, coercing himself to raise up.

"My friend who hosted the damn party, dipshit!"

"Hazel, I didn't even touch the dude. I would hardly call it a fight. Could you please leave me alone?"

"My friend has a hole in his drywall now! You can't keep starting shit at parties or pissing off people, or getting so drunk you can't remember what happened."

"I remember last night. I didn't blackout," Nico reasoned.

"That's a first. How long has it been since that last happened?" Hazel chided, pinching the bridge of her nose "Actually, no. Don't answer that. I'm gonna be late for class. I'll talk to you when I get home."

She spun out of the room and gathered her things. Before leaving, she called to him from the front door.

"I'm still mad at you still, but I love you!" Her tone was detesting, but Nico could appreciate the sentiment. He laid back, boring holes into the ceiling until his interest became fatigued.

After the ceiling had lost its appeal, he decided that maybe it was time to face the day. He rolled over to check his phone, stretching to reach it where it lay charging.

A text from Will was left in his notifications.

Will: Glad you made it home okay :)

Nico couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face. He began to type out a response.

Nico: hey i just wanted to say thanks for walking me home last night

Nico: oh and also for not letting my shit get kicked in by a lacrosse player who was a foot taller than me

Will: Lol it was no problem, just returning the favor

Will: How's ur day been so far?

Nico: i mean i just woke up hungover, so not all that great :/

Will: I'm sorry to hear that dude! You know, they say a good breakfast is the best hangover cure

Nico: well thats unfortunate, all i have at my house for breakfast is pop tarts

Will: Are you serious?

Will: Let me take you to breakfast, I'll buy

Will: Call it the final pay back for everything that you did for me yesterday

Nico: i thought walking me home yesterday was payback? not saying im gonna refuse a free breakfast tho

Will: Walking you home was for the party, breakfast can be for the groceries

Nico: will you don't have to do that

Will: I know! I just wanted to show my appreciation :)

Will: There's a cafe I was thinking of. It's usually pretty quiet, and won't be too noisy. I can send you the address and meet you there in 35 minutes?

Nico: alright, see you there

Nico peeled himself from the hold of his twin-sized mattress. He shuffled to a pile of clothes that resided on the floor, scouring for something that wasn't yesterday's clothes to wear. He slipped on a sweatshirt and pulled the hood on; it was a hood-up kind of day. Before he left he swiped a pair of sunglasses laying on his nightstand, his last hope to buffer his headache from the sober world.

He came to find that it didn't help much.

His groggy walk brought him to the cafe doors earlier than he had anticipated, leaving him to anticipate Will's arrival. He stood idly at the cafe entrance with his hands stuffed in his pockets and his shoulders hunched. His head still pounded, and the talking of strangers passing by became sirens in his head. He had to remind himself this was all worth it for free breakfast.

Just before his waiting turned to worry, Will approached from down the street. The grasp around Nico's anxious heart subsided as he saw the familiar face.

"How are things going man!" He asked as he pulled the cafe door open with his good arm.

Nico couldn't ignore the headache piercing his skull, "Things could be better," he shrugged.

"Hey, once we get a little bit of breakfast, I'm sure things will get much better."

The inside of the cafe treated Nico's hangover much better than the outside had. The cool air and quiet atmosphere were exactly what he needed that morning. He silently thanked Will for being kind of a genius.

As soon as the two settled into their seats, Nico let his head lay on the table. Will gave him a sympathetic smile.

"That bad, huh?" He asked. Nico only nodded in response.

"Let me order for you. I know exactly what will help you out, dude."

"I will do anything, as long as it gets rid of this headache," Nico groaned as he propped himself up, resting his head on his hands, "Thanks for offering me breakfast."

"Thanks for carrying my groceries for me," Will grinned.

Before long, a waitress sauntered over, placing a pitcher of ice water and two cheap plastic cups in front of the two. She asked for their orders, of which Will ordered for the two of them.

Nico tuned their conversation out, getting lost in the scene outside their window. He watched the cars pass by, his eyes hidden by his sunglasses.

Will pushed a cup of water towards him to reel him back into the present.

"You need to rehydrate," he prompted. Nico did as he was told, and took small sips from the cup.

"How's your day been so far?" Nico asked.

"Pretty good. Though, I feel bad saying that to your face," Will joked. Nico shot him a look Will could see even through the dark glasses.

Will chuckled, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He put his hands up in defeat.

"How was the rest of the party?" Nico asked.

"Honestly? I didn't stay much longer after you went home. I checked in with my friends to make sure they were fine then called it a night. Guess it was just kinda boring without you there, starting fights and all."

Nico covered his face with his hands, "God, don't remind me about that," he grumbled.

"What? I thought it was sweet," Will responded.

"Yeah, I don't know," Nico started, "Drunk me thought I was doing something great, but my sister totally chewed me out for it this morning."

"Why?"

"I guess she's friends with the guy who hosted the party... And he's not too thrilled to have a hole in his wall, which could technically be my fault? I don't know," He explained.

"Oh, does your sister go to school?" Will asked.

"Yeah, she's a freshman, studies early education."

"Oh, that's cool," Will engaged. Then his eyebrows furrowed, and his expression became confused, "Can I ask a question?"

"That depends. What's the question?" Nico's tone was apprehensive.

"How come you don't go to school?"

Before Nico had the chance to respond, the waitress had returned and plates were being unloaded on the table in front of him. He looked down at the mystery meal Will had ordered for him.

"What the fuck is this?" Nico exclaimed, "Is this spinach in my breakfast?"

"Oh my god," Will rolled his eyes, "You know, everything on that plate is what they recommend you eat to get rid of a hangover."

"Okay, you know what? Fine. I'll eat your weird healthy breakfast, only because it's gonna make me not feel like my brain is trying to rot inside my skull."

He grabbed at a fork and stabbed his omelette with it, and took a bite.

"Oh shit," He spoke behind a mouthful of food.

"What?" Will gave a concerned look, glancing up from his own breakfast.

"This is actually really good," Nico admitted why a shy smile.

"See? It's not that bad. And it's good for you."

"Will," Nico began, "I want you to look at me in the eyes, and recall everything you know about me, which, granted, isn't a lot," He paused to take another bite of food, "And ask yourself if I really seem like the type of person who cares about which foods are good for me or not."

Will raised his eyebrows. For a second, Nico thought he had offended him, but Will erupted into that contagious laughter of his. Nico joined in, giving in to the pull of the laughter.

Will shook his head, his chuckles slowing to a stop, "Man, I guess you're right."

Will looked at Nico and smiled. Nico glanced back, if only for a second, and reciprocated the grin.

Then he felt the phone in his pocket buzzing. He reached down into his pocket and gave a quick 'sorry give me a second' to Will before answering.

"Hello?"

"Nico! Are you gonna show up for your shift? I've told you before man, you gotta give me notice if you're gonna be late."

Shit.

It was his manager.

"I wasn't on the schedule for today, I thought," Nico defended. Will looked up from his plate and gave a concerned look.

"Should have double-checked, I needed you here thirty minutes ago."

Shiiiiiit.

"Okay. I'll be there as soon as possible,"

"How long is that going to be?" His manager's voice rang through the phone.

"I don't know... I'm not at home right now, and I'm walking so... It could be twenty-five minutes. I'm so sorry, I didn't know I had a shift today."

"Do whatever you can to get here, I need your ass down here now. We're having a rush and we're understaffed."

"Right, okay. See you in a few," Nico responded, and ended the call.

"Do you gotta go?" Will asked, disappointment hidden in his tone.

Nico pursed his lips, "I'm so sorry. I had no idea I was on the schedule, but I gotta go now or I am so fucking fired."

"Do you need a ride?"

"Will, no, I can't ask you to do that. You're already paying for my meal," Nico explained.

"Nico, it's totally fine! I don't mind at all," Will insured, "I picked up my car from the shop yesterday, so we're good to go!"

Nico's brows furrowed while he contemplated the offer. After a moment, he agreed.

"I'm only accepting because I needed to be there, like, 30 minutes ago," Nico said, as he began to pack his things and leave. Will left a pile of cash that would cover the bill plus tip, and the two hurried out of the restaurant, and towards Will's beat up SUV.

When Nico walked through the back door of his restaurant job, he was met with several pissed coworkers and his manager.

"He finally shows up!" his coworker, Jason, exclaimed.

"About fuckin' time!" another employee called out. Nico ignored his coworkers teasing, and snatched his uniform from his locker, and threw it on, trying to smooth the wrinkles out while tugging on the sleeve. He clocked in, and rushed to the front of the house, to take his position.

As he sped to his spot, he bumped into his manager, whose only words were a muttered 'glad you could make it.' Nico gave a shy smile and grabbed a handful of menus before settling at his stand.

Working at a five-star restaurant was kind of like maintaining a well oiled machine -- if well oiled machines could be a dysfunctional team that somehow maintained the image of perfection on the surface. It was a stressful job, but it paid decently, all things considered, and sometimes Nico even liked his coworkers. In the very least, they were usually tolerable.

But today, Nico was up against the edge, still half hungover, and in the middle of a rush, he wished he could still be enjoying Will's company. Something about Will made his heart feel still.

Despite his longing to be elsewhere, Nico was, unfortunately, stuck at his job, taking the orders of people who didn't know mediocre, overpriced food if it hit them in the face. His least favorite part of the job was the customers, but then again, Nico was fairly sure if you asked any food service worker, they would say the same thing.

This rang especially true today. He was getting a headache  (And no, it wasn't just the remnant of his hangover) listening to an older woman complain about her food. He had tried to tune her out maybe five minutes into the lecture about why her food sucked, and why she deserved a refund with a complimentary meal, but he could still hear the echo of her nasally voice through his dissociative state. After the lady finished her spiel, Nico resumed his customer service voice and assured her she would be satisfied with a new meal, per company policy, and left the table.

He walked into the kitchen, ready to announce that he was going on break when his coworker slammed into him. Now, if his coworker had been empty handed, maybe everything would have been fine. But she wasn't, instead, she had been carrying out a meal, which was now plastered all over Nico's white, formal uniform.

Are you fucking kidding me?

"Oh my god! I am so sorry!" She exclaimed. Nico could feel the frustration and annoyance bubbling in his chest, rising up his throat. He shut his eyes, and inhaled, reopening his eyes as he exhaled.

"I am going on break," He spoke in monotone, attempting to disguise any anger in his voice. He dragged himself out back, and slumped onto a crate to sit on. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

Today's shift fucking sucked.

He pulled out his phone. In his notifications was a text from Will. The anger and frustration that held Nico's heart began to loosen its grasp.

Will: How's work? Hope you haven't been fired yet lol

Nico: not fired yet, just got angry looks from my coworkers for being 40 minutes late during a rush

Nico: maybe it's deserved though, it'd be pretty mad if i were them

Will: I mean, in your defense you didn't know about your shift, and you seemed like you genuinely felt bad so I wouldn't beat yourself up too badly :)

Nico: thanks, haha

Will: Quick question, do you have a ride home?

Nico: no i usually just walk home

Will: Do you want a ride? I'd feel bad if I just dropped you off with no way to get back home

Nico: you can't keep doing favors for me like this

Nico: I get off late anyway, you probably wouldn't want to drive around by the time I get off

Will: What time is your shift over?

Nico: uh

Nico: seven

Will: That's not even late

Nico: i don't need a ride, i'll be fine, i promise

Nico: thanks for the offer tho

Will: I will take it as a personal offense if you don't accept this offer, Nico

Nico: dont tell me that

Nico: like seriously though, i can't let you do this

Will: I feel bad just dropping you off like that!

Nico: i walk home all the time, its okay! i promise

Will: How often do you walk home hungover?

Nico: i mean, im not even hungover anymore so

Nico: but now that you've offered, it would be nice not to walk home for once

Nico: im only agreeing because you're practically begging me at this point

Will: I'll be waiting out back at 6:50 ;)

Nico shook his head and smiled, replacing the phone in his pocket.

As he smiled to himself, the back door swung open. Jason peered his head from around the door. He gave Nico a funny look.

"I don't think I've seen you smile before," He paused to think, "Ever."

"Oh, come on," Nico protested, "That's not fair."

"What's got you so happy? Surely not work, not after the shift you're having," Jason commented.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Nico taunted Jason.

"Don't be like that," Jason chastised, "Anyhow, boss wanted me to tell you that he wants you back inside, it's starting to get busy again."

"Tell him I'll be back out there in five minutes. Also, do you have a spare shirt I can borrow?" Nico asked, gesturing down to the mess that was now staining his shirt.

"I was just about to offer you my spare shirt. It's in my locker, let me go get it," Jason replied, holding the door open for Nico. He followed Jason inside as the heavy door slammed behind the two.

The rest of Nico's shift didn't improve by much, but at least he had something to look forward to. By the end of his shift, he never felt so welcomed by his hoodie and casual clothes, that hung loosely off his frame rather than the suffocating hug his work uniform gave him.

Clocking out was the best part of his day.

He walked out back, shoving the door out of the way and giving a curt goodbye to his coworkers. Will's car idled in the back alley behind the restaurant, awaiting his arrival. Will waved when he saw Nico emerge from the building.

"Hey, Nico!" Will exclaimed as Nico pulled the car door open.

"Hey Will," Nico started, "Thanks again for picking me up. I know I resisted at first, but like, I'm actually so glad I agreed. Would have been pissed if I were walking home right now."

"Man I don't know how you do it, walking every day" Will agreed.

"I mean you get used to it, but after some shifts I definitely wish I knew how to drive."

"So what, you never learned?"

"I mean, I never really felt the need to? Like some days I'm like 'yeah a car would be nice,' but most days I'm perfectly fine without."

"Have you ever thought about learning?" Will asked, glancing at Nico from the side of his eye as he drove.

"I don't know... I've always told myself I'd learn at some point, but I keep putting it off. Why?"

"I could teach you now, if you'd like," Will gave Nico a smile that meant trouble.

"What? No, Will, I'll total your car."

"It'll be fun! There's an empty parking lot we'll pass on the way back to your place, we can stop there and I can just show you the basics."

"What if I hit something?"

"Nico, dude, this car is worth at very most a total of 500 dollars. I wouldn't be ruined if this thing suffered a few bumps. It's the perfect car to learn in, you can't do any more damage to it than it has already suffered."

"I mean, I guess I don't have anything else going on tonight..." Nico gave a hesitant response.

"It'll be fun, I promise!" Will said as he flicked his turning signal and pulled into the empty lot. He put the car in park and opened the door.

"Okay, switch places with me," He prompted.

"Uh, okay," Nico gave some thought to hesitation, before stepping out of the passenger seat and into the driver's.

"Okay, look at the floorboard. Do you know which pedal is the brake and which one is for gas?" Will asked.

"Uh, the big one's the brake, right? And the small one is the gas?" Nico gave an answer even he doubted to be correct.

"Yeah! Okay, now put your foot on the brake," He instructed. Nico did as he told, gripping the steering wheel so tightly he thought he might break it.

"Great, now grab the gearshift, and put it into drive," Will explained, "You know how to do that?"

"Uh," Nico choked on his own words, "No?"

"That's okay!" Will assured. He reached over to gently hold Nico's hand, as he placed it on the gearshift. With his hand over Nico's, he pulled the gearshift into place.

"Now you're in gear!" He exclaimed with a bright grin. Nico's hand started to shake underneath Will's.

"What you wanna do now is let your foot off the brake, slowly though," As Will began, Nico lifted his foot off, and the car began to roll.

"Oh fuck the car is moving now," Nico cursed under his breath.

"You're doing good! The car is gonna move slowly as long as you don't hit the brakes. Now, I want you to take the same foot you just used the brakes with, and very slowly, press on the gas."

Nico placed a foot on the gas, and the car jerked forward.

"Oh god, I'm sorry," Nico groaned.

"Don't be! You're doing good!" Will encouraged, "Try again."

Nico lowered his foot back onto the pedal, and the car lurched once more. Surprised by the movement, he took his foot off the gas, giving Will a concerned look.

"It can be tricky to get the hang of, but you're doing really good so far!" He encouraged.

Nico's foot hovered over the pedal. Carefully, he began to press weigh to the pedal. The car began to move faster.

"Hey, there you go!" Will exclaimed, "You got it! Now, see if you can speed up a bit."

Nico pressed on the pedal, and the car roared, picking up speed. As the car gained speed Nico lost confidence, his chest began to feel tight. He could feel his hands tremor as he gripped the wheel, and he began to feel his throat close up. He slammed a foot into the brakes. The car screeched to a stop, causing both himself and Will to lurch forward in their seats. Nico's knuckles had turned white around the steering wheel.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Nico repeated, "I think... I think I'm done. Let's switch back."

"You were doing so well though!" Will reassured.

"No, I think I'm done," Nico confirmed, placing the car back into park.

"Oh, okay," Will's smile fell.

His shaky hands and nerves calmed once Nico returned to the passenger seat. He let out the breath he had been holding and rubbed his arms.

"Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to overwhelm you," Will said as he slid back into the driver's seat.

"Will, it's not your fault. I've... I've never been good at managing my nerves while driving. My dad gave up trying to teach me years ago because I'd just freak out whenever I was behind the wheel. I guess I thought this time would be different? I don't know..."

Nico felt a hand on his shoulder. Will ran a thumb over the skin on his shoulder.

"It's okay," Will ensured, giving a small smile to Nico, "I just hope I didn't make you feel pressured to do something you didn't want to."

"No! Of course not, I just thought I could actually do it this time. I mean there's a reason why I don't drive."

"You wanna talk about it?" Will asked.

"There's not much to talk about. It's just, like, my nerves... I just get so anxious behind the wheel. It's always been like that," Nico explained, fidgeting with his hands, "Like, I just personally think I shouldn't drive. There are some people out there who just don't drive, and maybe I should just commit to being one of those people."

"It takes practice," Will comforted, "You'll get it if you give it a chance."

"I don't know Will," Nico shook his head, "I can't drive in an empty parking lot, and I can't even imagine how I'd manage on a road with other cars. I don't know how you do it, especially with a broken arm, oh my god."

"I'm telling you, it's just practice. I mean, I guess the arm thing is a little hard to get around, but, I'm doing fine now, I think," Will spoke.

"Does it still hurt? Your arm?" Nico asked.

Will examined his arm, observing the curve of the cast, "No, not unless I move it the wrong way."

"I feel bad, you like, broke your arm," Nico began, "You said you've been playing lacrosse for seven years? And now, all of a sudden you just stopped? Don't you miss it?"

"I mean, yeah, I put so much of my time into it and spent so many years practicing. It was my sport and I loved it. And then, after I left the hospital, after talking to my coaches and telling them I was done... I realized, y'know, that I had put on my jersey, and played for the last time, without even knowing it, and that... That kinda sucked."

Nico nodded, watching Will as he spoke, "This whole thing sounds like it's been pretty hard on you."

Will turned to Nico, "This... may sound so stupid," Will laughed, "But you are so easy to talk to. Like being around you is just easy."

Nico smiled and nodded, "No, I get what you're saying."

He sighed and looked down at the floorboard.

"Guess I should be getting you home though, right?" Will asked as he started the engine. He pulled out of the lot and accelerated onto the road towards Nico's house. Will studied the road as Nico watched streetlights speeding by, their lights beginning to illuminate as the sun began to fall. A hazy shade of grey began to blanket the sky, and stars began to peek out from behind the veil. Will turned his head to steal a glance at Nico. For maybe a second, he let himself admire Nico's profile and the curve of his nose, the bend of his jawline, before pulling his gaze back towards the road.

He pulled into the apartment lot he had left Nico in the night before. As he pulled in, Nico looked like he was about to say something, maybe in protest, but ultimately decided against it.

Nico gave Will a soft smile and thankful eyes, "Thanks for the ride, Will."

"It's no problem, anytime," Will assured. He wanted to say more, but the back of his mind told him to remain silent, despite the pull in his chest. He didn't want this to be the last time he'd see Nico. He also didn't want to return to his empty apartment. He wasn't ready to be his only company again.

"Hey," Nico said, from outside the car, holding the door open and leaning in, "Text me later. Let me know what your schedule looks like so we hang out again. You're a fun guy to be with."

The tug at Will's chest rested, "Oh! Yeah, for sure!"

Nico closed the door, and left with a wave, as Will's car began to roll out of the lot.

Will exhaled a shaky breath, the feeling of loneliness beginning to flood his lungs. It was suffocating.  He drove home, trying not to lose himself to the feeling

As he walked into his empty home, he felt a buzz from his pocket. He opened his phone and saw Nico had sent a text.

just caught wind of a party happening tomorrow, any chance you're able to go? ;)

Will smiled to himself and felt some of the loneliness began to fade.

(Big thanks to my beta readers @embooks and @all-this-panic-still-no-disco !!)

[pointedly-foolish]

[ í'm вαd вєhαvíσur вut í dσ ít ín thє вєѕt wαч ]

word count: 6320

pairing: connor | rk800/gender-neutral!reader

genre: fluff; kinda crack treated seriously

summary: « as a wise man once said: “you haven’t lived until you’ve committed at least one blue collar crime” – wh-i… literally no one said that! he sputtered in bewilderment. – i just did… you said as you stomped on your cigarette. or are you calling me unwise? – yes! that’s exactly what i’m calling you! he exclaimed. you chuckled. – oh come on… live a little. it’s not even that bad. you consoled. »

the android before you was conflicted. you could tell from his yellow led, which kept flickering and spinning. the guy was seriously debating this. he’s intrigued. he wants to try it out, you just have to egg him on.

« i won’t tell if you don’t? you offered. »

you’re sure you had a harder time persuading others compared to this detective model android...

a/n: the time has come. i have inspiration. i have motivation. i managed to unblock myself. i think it’s because of stress? i couldn’t write because of stress lmfao or maybe it’s cuz of that oc x canon snippet i did idk.

both.

and uh, the story went out of hand and evolved by itself.

ping. a small popup in the top right corner of his hud caught his attention as he rearranged his folders, neatly putting them in his bag.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[ 1 ᴺᴱᵂ ᴹᴱˢˢᴬᴳᴱ: Love ]

> hey im outside waiting for u xx Noted. <

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

he quickly replied and picked up the pace, securing his beanie and wrapping his scarf. grabbing his bag, he excused himself: « see you tomorrow, lieutenant. – wait! connor! the younger man stopped in his tracks, and turned to face the lieutenant. – just… you know how i feel about [ y/n ]... the android patiently waited for him to elaborate. – if you don’t feel comfortable doing what they want you to do, just... know that you don’t have to. he instructed. and if they force you, or hu— – hank. he gently interrupted. the older man stopped his tirade, a mix of emotions on his face: surprise. concern. annoyance. mostly concern. – hank, he restarted. i’ll be fine. he reassured him. i know you don’t trust them, and i can’t force you to, but have a little faith. “in me” in that last sentence unspoken. – i… fuck, i know… but- he grumbled. just, if you don’t feel safe, call me. ok? – of course. he answered. »

before stepping out of the building, the android looked back at his father figure, « take care, see you in the morning. », he did a small wave and threw his best pacifying smile. acute scans heard the older man’s resigned sigh and the twinkle of lingering concern in his features.

once out of the building, his sensors noted the drastic drop in temperature, the warmth and ambient brightness of within was replaced by the cold and windy dullness. it was a rather chilly night, clocking in at 14 degrees celsius, wind blowing rather harshly. wrapping his coat tighter around himself, he heads for where you normally park: take a right from the precinct, a few blocks away. when he reached you, you were leaning on your motorbike, preoccupied with something on your phone, and only noticing the android through his footsteps. looking up, you smirked, and stuffed your mobile into your pocket: « glad to see that they freed you, you said, flicking a cigarette butt away. – yes… i hope i didn’t make you wait too long? he greeted back. – nah, it’s fine. »

you chucked the spare helmet you brought towards him—which he caught effortlessly—« come on, i wanna show you something. »

the ride to the destination was uneventful: it was the usual fare. you sped through the traffic, weaving through the different vehicles at a speed connor was sure was much over the speed limit (he has since given up on informing you as you seemed to ignore him, not keen on slowing down anytime soon).

this location seemed to be some distance outside of the city, as the street grew narrower and darker. the sounds of other vehicles no longer accompanying them. all he could hear was the air that you were blazing through and the humming of the motorcycle underneath you. the cold wind blew from the direction you were heading, and he could feel the rush of air against his body, a sensation that, he figured, would feel chilly and unpleasant if he could “feel” cold. still, he instinctively clung tighter to your body to preserve body heat. he watched the scenery change, sights buzzing by; the dark sky grew clearer and clearer, until a few bright stars were visible unlike back in the heart of the city.

the motorcycle slowed down to a halt, and he dismounted the vehicle. « here we are, you struck out a hand to dramatically gesture at the building. my usual haunt. »—the android squinted as he scrutinised the place, but before he could get a good look, his sight abruptly turned to black, his eyes not yet caught up with the sudden change in lighting. it was as if someone turned off the light switch, the world suddenly plunged into darkness. and apparently somebody did: you finally joined him after turning off the bike, killing the only light source. nudging him to alert him of your presence, you pulled out a flashlight from your bag and flicked it on, illuminating the area once more. you headed towards the building, and twirled to face him. « tada! my happy place, where i usually come to relax after weeks of finals. you announced pridefully. »

[ ᴬᴺᴬᴸᵞˢᴵᴺᴳ ]

he regarded the place apprehensively. to say that it was what he expected it to be would be lie: what he expected to be a warm and rustic cottage, one that exudes cosiness, turned out to be the old remains of an unfinished construction, merely the skeleton of what would be commonhold. it was dark and dreary, shadows covering the empty spaces and the walls. some of the surface were left unfinished, making the “building” perforated, cold and unfriendly. brutal, even. It was clearly dirty, not taken care of, with rubble littering the floors. he analysed the building and was concerned over its structural integrity. it didn’t seem that stable… surely you wouldn’t…?

you noticed your boyfriend’s souring impression and quickly tried to redeem the monument in his eyes: « that look on you face… you hate this... don’t you? you winced. your question caught him off guard, causing him to fumble for a recovery. – i-uh… no! it… has a unique charm. – you’re allowed to be honest, you know? you sighed. – it’s … certainly not what i had in mind, he winced. you bit your lip in a nervous smile. it’s far from prim and proper for straight laced connor, but you hope that this doesn’t end in a disastrous date. – give it a chance, let me show you up there… you’ll love it! you grinned, trying to lighten the mood. »

entering the structure almost felt like entering a different reality: the white noises of the outside world, the hooting of owls, the chirping and buzzing of insects and the howl of the wind were dampened as soon as he followed you in. it was a different realm, where shade crawled about and reigned, the silence deafening and oppressive. « mind the step. you alerted him. » the murk did not deter you one bit, and, knowing the layout of the structure by heart, you led him through different twist and turns, avoiding what he deduced would be multiple deadends. only the light of the flashlight illuminating the way. he followed you obediently, not straying too far away from you, at the risk of becoming lost in this labyrinth. he observed the environment, perturbed. the area contained so many potential hazards, and the thought that you frequented this place often distressed him slightly: though he did not doubt your ability to take care of yourself, he didn’t like the idea that you could’ve potentially hurt yourself every time you went here. he snapped out of his musing millimetres away from colliding with you and directed his attention to what you were currently preoccupied by: a ledge that led to the second floor. « hey babe… how much do you weigh? he took a few moments to answer, but you quickly rephrased. – sorry, you chuckled, that turned out more personal that i thought. can you give me a leg up? you nodded at the protruding wall. the stairs that lead to the upper floors are blocked by rubble so i’m afraid this is our only way up. »

he simply nodded, you securing your light on your belt as he put himself in position against the wall to boost you up. the climb went through easily, and you quickly turned around to pull him up after his running jump. you both quickly stood up, the android dusting himself, ridding his clothes of soot and dust, before you start your trek once more.

« i was wondering—assuming you usually frequent this place on your own—how do you get over that wall by yourself? he asked. – with great difficulty, you answered truthfully. the android rolled his eyes. – obviously, he says, in that lilt that never fails to make you chuckle. – yeah? well i hope you’re not too tired today, ‘cause we have a bit more scaling to do. don’t want you slowing me down, you teased. – as if. he scoffed. »

once on the highest floor, you led him towards an open chamber whose floor was largely intact but had a large gaping hole on one side—one that helped ventilate the room who, compared to the rest of the building, was properly aerated, the air much cleaner and safer to breathe than the musty and stale odor down below. the opening allowed the moonlight to bathe the room in a soft glow, illuminating the occupants with an ethereal white. a second source of light caught his attention: a small fire that you ignited inside a metal drum, a flame whose heat was a pleasant contrast to the cold, an ember that highlighted the place with a stark, warm, orange glow against the satellite’s smooth, cold, bluish-white light.

you sat down unceremoniously on a worn out and unfinished windowsill—resembling more like a vaguely rectangular opening—the android joining you on the opposite side. lighting a cigarette, you took a deep breath and sighed, leaning back and gazing into the sable sky decorated by a plethora of stars. the man facing you mimicked your movements and gazed at the celestial bodies, little lights twinkling in the dark, innocent and brilliant. able to take his time to view the heavens, he noted that it resembles an elysian painting, tinted an aegean blue. accompanying the sight was the rumbles of a rock song he wasn’t familiar with, probably from a rock concert a few kilometres away—making a note to find out and identify the venue. he could feel the deep thrumming of the bass and vaguely hear the melody, and though the dampened music made it slightly harder for him to pin it down, he managed to identify it: a hit song from a local indie band. he turned to face you, your form peacefully resting against the wall behind you, eyes closed; features relaxed. breathing deeply, you blew puffs of smoke with a lazy, yet content, smile.

« so? what d’you think? your eyes were directly on him now. i know you had your reservations about this place...  »

there was a small twitch in your smile, a tell he caught that told him of your nervousness. despite his previous opinion of this place, he could see why you liked it, and considered it your happy place: it was a distance away from the big city, the air pollution and the noise. it was quieter and calmer here, without any of the loud colours and chatter that never seemed to cease. the location also provided a good view of the woods around it and the elegant skies above, along with ambient music. one that certainly fit your tastes, but at a distance that didn’t make the atmosphere overbearing. it was a good place to recharge; to rest and to think, away from the cumbersome responsibilities, if only for a little while.

« i like it... it has a unique charm. he found himself repeating himself. it’s a good place to escape. – do you? as if a switch was flicked, your uncertain demeanour was replaced with a cheeky grin. i’m glad this place grew on you! you stood up and placed yourself closer to the android, sinking back on him. – i... like places like these and exploring them… just glad i didn’t bore you away. »

you sighed as you settled comfortably against his chest, his arms quickly wrapping around your waist to cradle your form in a tight embrace. he replied with a hum of approval. placing a hand on yours, he brings it up and presses a kiss on your palm. you gently caressed his cheek as he did. « i’m never bored when i get to spend time with you, my love. he says softly, earnestly. – you’re not half bad yourself, babe. you replied. »

he smacked your arm in faux disdain as you placed a kiss on his jaw, and the conversation ended after that. It was quiet, but it wasn’t an awkward silence; no, it was a comfortable one. no other words uttered. just the two of you, the crackle of the flame, your thoughts and the heavens. connor is tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand, resting his head on the top of yours—his focus switching from the galaxy above and you—while you simply relish on the warmth of his presence and hum along to the song playing in the background. though you knew he meant what he said, you notice him start to fidget and become restless. you’re never sure if it was due to the fact that he was a tireless android or if it was simply a tic of his, but he’s unable to simply sit and be. he’s already analysed all that could be analysed in this place, and you know it’s something he can’t help but do. he had a constant need to be up and about, doing something or preoccupying his mind with something.

« beautiful night, tonight, isn’t it? you started, catching his attention. there was a few moments of silence before he answered. – but certainly not as charming as you. – ha. smooth one, anderson. » the flame in the drum is dying, the heat it brought fading away: an attestation of the time that has passed. it’s been that long huh? the band has changed to a different song, though it shows no signs of finishing anytime soon. you decided it was time to put connor out of his misery and do something else.

snapping up unto your feet—startling the android slightly—you offer a hand and pulled him up: « i got an idea. and it’s probably going to sound like a terrible, inane idea… – how foolish are we talking? he asked, unfazed after going through with multiple of your “dates”; including, but not limited to, urban exploration, base jumping, and graffiti (he still doesn’t know why he agreed… he remembers you saying « rebel against the humans! ») – i mean… it’s pretty tame considering the stuff i proposed before. you shrugged. he raised a brow in suspicion. – you... might be charged with criminal trespass… you admit and he looks horrified. but! but! you continued. that’s only if you get caught! which you wouldn’t be if you’re with me! you reassured him. – what are you planning to do, exactly? – i was thinking about sneaking in the concert and just bask in the energy. head for the moshpit or something. you’re bouncing off your ideas, hoping it might interest him. have fun, enjoy the music. – i’ve researched that venue, it’s a private property! do you know the charges that’ll be pressed against you? he asked, perplexed. – duh! it’s a misdemeanour trespass, as is stated in the michigan penal code: county jail for 30 days and/or a fine. section 750.552.. you answered nonchalantly. it don’t really matter! as i said: we won’t get caught. – how are so calm about breaking these laws? he questioned, perplexed. for a law student, you seem so adamant to break them… – look, con. i’m not gonna force you to do this. i love you, and i understand that you have a reputation to uphold, being a detective and all. you assured him. i don’t want you to feel that i’m peer pressuring you into this. – i… i don’t.. you notice how his eyes shift, looking to the far left, unable to make eye contact. you notice that he’s conflicted, that he wants to do this, but doesn’t. you sigh. – look, we can walk back to the bike while you think about it, and you can tell me your decision once we’re there. alright? »

he doesn’t answer, but you know he heard you, so you start to make your way back down, the android following you wordlessly. once down by your bike, you lean on it—rather similarly to how he met you earlier today—and nod at him: « so? what’s you’re decision? – this sounds like a bad idea… still disagreeing, but not outright denying it. you meant what you said: you don’t want to make him do what he doesn’t want to do, but a partner in crime doesn’t sound half bad. you huff. – connor anderson. the connor anderson himself, who snuck into jericho. the same one who infiltrated cyberlife tower in what seemed to be a suicide mission. is scared of a little trespassing? you teased. live a little! – i don’t see how me committing a crime would contributes to my satisfaction with life. – haven’t you heard? as a wise man once said: “you haven’t lived until you’ve committed at least one blue collar crime” – wh-i… literally no one said that! he sputtered in bewilderment. – i just did… you said as you stomped on your cigarette. or are you calling me unwise? – yes! that’s exactly what i’m calling you! he exclaimed. you chuckled. – oh come on… live a little. it’s not even that bad. you consoled. »

the android before you was conflicted. you could tell from his yellow led, which kept flickering and spinning. the guy was seriously debating this. he’s intrigued. he wants to try it out, you just have to say the right things. problem with the rk800 models: they were much too curious for their own good.

« i won’t tell if you don’t? you offered. »

you seat yourself on your bike and turn back to face him: « so, are you in? a moment of silence. the android seemed to have a renewed confidence. – as a law enforcement officer, what’s stopping me from arresting you right now? his eyes held a newfound determination. you smirked lazily. – absolutely nothing. »

he swears to god, or ra9, or whatever higher power there is, that you will be the death of him.

« get off. your ordered. he followed the command without a word. – we’re gonna walk the rest of the way. you added. »

the concert venue was now at a reasonable distance away, and it was within eyeshot. however, that also meant that everything was much louder. he could now feel the boom of the loud music, and make out the lyrics.

« so i’ve stalked this place before, and i know an entry. here’s the plan: we’re gonna immediately go to the right side. the fence that side is less guarded, since there’s a ditch that leads there; we can hide in there. however there was a drone, just one, and a cctv camera—and we also need to look out for guards—alors fais gaffe1 ok? this far along and he still seemed hesitant, so you give one final push. – too late to back out now buddy. you’ll be fine though. just follow my lead and disable that camera. – wait! you glanced back at him. once inside, what do we do? – just act natural and have fun. you grinned. » and with that, you took off, making your way to the future crime scene. he sighed, still unsure on how you managed to coerce him into this, but jogged to catch up to you.

you hopped down in the ditch, connor not too far behind, and you quickly mentioned, while pointing at a sign that said “no androids allowed”: « by the way, you might want to keep that led of yours hidden. i’ve got some bobby pins if you need ‘em. you motioned to the beanie that he was currently adjusting. »

once he seemed satisfied with his changes, you asked him if he could tamper with the camera, which he swiftly disabled. you come out of your little hiding space and start climbing up the chain link fence, telling connor to keep an eye out for the security drone currently patrolling. what you forgot to tell him was the part where you were going to take it out, catching the android off guard as you throw yourself off the top part of the fence you were clinging on onto the passing drone. your swinging and flailing, combined with your weight pulling it down, caused the contraption to crash and the android—who seemed to have snapped out of his stupor—grabbed a metal pipe lying near the barrier and proceeded to smash the machine. chucking the object to the side, he went to help you up on you feet: « are you alright? – i’m fine. you looked at the metallic junk that was once a drone. we make a pretty good team, don’t you think? he looked back at the destroyed drone. – i don’t want to keep thinking about it… – destruction of property. you clicked your tongue. i’m proud of you con. you pretended to wipe a tear off your eyes. – let’s just go. he turned away , and you follow him up the fence with a chuckle. – cheer up con. you hopped over the chain. it’s okay… you’ve done worse. »

he was about to retort, when a figure seemed to head your way, and you both managed to duck out into a corner before being discovered by the flashlight. when it was clear, you snuck out of the hiding spot and proceeded to join the masses. it was different. he’s never been to a concert before. sure, he was a fan of rock, often listening to it with hank, but experiencing it live was so very different. he knew it would be loud, deafening, but he didn’t expect the surge of excitement and vivacity. it was exhilarating, a completely different world: the bright colours, the loud ambiance, the energy of the music. the android couldn’t help, but let himself get a bit excited. he was glad he decided to come though he’d never admit it to you.

you both floated around the edge of the crowd, the venue being full. it wasn’t a particularly big place, but there were quite a lot of people there, you mused out loud. must be a pretty popular band, their song being catchy enough. at some point or another, you both cheered along with the crowd (though he was much meeker in his cries), and for some reason, decided to try and wade through the people to get closer to the front—the moshpit—this time, the android seemed to play along with your plan without complaint.

he sort of wished he had now. you don’t really know when it happened, whether it was when you rummaged through the people or during a collision while moshing, lost in the intensity of the crowd—every member in state of ecstatic delirium. the beanie came off. when he realised, he quickly hid his led, which was a disturbed yellow, and notified you. you didn’t have to hear what he said to know what was happening. you quickly led him towards the “exit”, the immediate crowd—who saw the black sheep—parting like the red sea as you crossed, but as your neared the edge of the venue security finally reached and cornered you. you quickly placed yourself besides connor, sending across a relaxed body language. you discreetly grabbed his hand, and whispered « play along » which he wouldn’t have heard if he were human.

« how may we help you sir? you asked, flashing your friendliest smile. – i’m concerned about this friend of yours… his eyes glanced at your boyfriend, but you keep your eyes on him. connor was unfazed. perhaps because he trusted your ability in getting yourselves out of this mess—awww, you’re flattered—or that his model are used to high stress environment—most likely, but you certainly hope it was also because of the former. this was a darker area of the place, so it would obscure most of your features, and the band was still playing in the background—ignorant to the revelation—which would somewhat hide your voices. – what about him? curt and indignant. – androids are not allowed in this area. he pointed to the anti-android post outside the fence. the fence that led to freedom. i’m going to have to bring him in for trespass, and you for smuggling him in. androids were recognised as their own sentient species, but laws protecting them have yet to be passed: android-free zones were still legal. most places in the city removed their anti-android signs, but people from the periphery seemed more resistant to change. fuck. – oh that old thing? the led? that don’t prove nothing. you shrugged. be cool [y/n]. it’s just a temporary tattoo. motherfucker lost a bet. you thank whatever gods above that the rk800 models could somewhat control their led colour, so that his remained blue. – is that so? he turned to connor. you seemed adamant on hiding that led of yours. the asshat must have a grudge against androids, huh? You wished he’d just kick you out. make life easier for both parties. – it’s a fake tattoo. he played along. and it’s a bad one at that—i don’t want to be associated with those plastics… he grumbled. you cackled. – well, maybe you shouldn’t have lost that bet, michael. the guard in front of you grunted, displeased. he really wanted to bring in an android huh? prove something to someone? or just pure malice? you never really paid attention in psych class. – if that’s the case, since you’re both humans, i’d like to see your ticket.  »

you went rigid. clenching your jaw you planned your next course of action. you have your phone in your pocket, but there was nothing. you could surrender it, and run away as he was distracted, but he could then trace it back to you and press charges… you could fight? the both of you could easily overpower him, outrunning him wouldn’t be a problem either. but you’ll never hear the end of it if you decided to hurt someone when you had a more pacifist option, so you chose to run. it was abrupt. you were in a standoff, one party waiting for the other to make their move. and all of the sudden you make a break for it and dash off for the fence, your partner running for it too. there was a bit of a scuffle but you managed to fend him off long enough for you to scramble up the fence. the man quickly caught up and yanked your leg—alarming you—though a well placed kick from the other freed you long enough to jump off into the other side, ready to make a dash for your life as you land.

the two of you ran until you reached your bike, which was quite a distance away (thank fuck for that, at least he won’t follow you that far—unless he’s really fucking persistent), where you collapsed on the spot and panted slightly. the android himself was looking slightly weary. heavy breathing turned into wheezing laughter as the absurdity of what just transpired settled into your mind.

« i can’t believe that actually happened! you exclaimed between laughs. – we barely got out of there! he chided. we were almost arrested! – but we weren’t. told ya’ con. should’a believed me. you tsk-ed, having calmed down from the giggles. i’m insulted to be quite honest. you exploded into another fit of laughter. – i don’t know how i managed to get you to do this with me! you howled. – never again. he stated, a finality in his tone. – oh come on, you loved it. you rolled your eyes. he stared at you in silence, unimpressed. it was true, but you’ll never hear that from him. – i hate you, he frowned. – love you too babe, you responded, running a hand through your hair. »

he sighed and let himself fall beside you. taking out your backpack once more, you rummaged through and handed him an item: an inconspicuous water bottle. when asked what it was, you answered « thirium. that’s what you guys drink right? » as you opened your own water bottle, gulping down its content. he informed you that androids don’t need to constantly replenish the thirium in his body like humans did with water—only drinking them when they have lost a significant amount—but that he appreciated the gesture. “it’s the thought that counts”.

you huffed, slightly bashful, going into a tirade about how you can’t keep up with the constantly evolving technology. « you’re starting to sound like hank now. » he chuckled and you grimaced and pretended to vomit in response, though you joined him in his laughter. you both spent time sitting there. just breathing. coming down from your adrenaline rush.

« wanna crash at my place? you offered. – i’d be more than happy to, he obliged. »

that night, you both slept like a rock. well, you did. you completely conked out. connor peacefully entered stasis as he usually did. you arrived at your flat sometime in the morning and passed out. barely managing to blearily have a “shower”—dousing yourself in water—before passing out.

come later in the morning—when the light shone softly and the white noise of the city: ambient sound of traffic, chatter, chirping of pigeons—you were sleeping peacefully when you felt someone shift beside you, rousing you slightly from your slumber. you groaned as your head gains enough coherence to remember about university and the brunt of the waking world. think you’re gonna play hooky today. maybe kenneth can take notes for you… you made a note to ask him later...

unwrapping himself from you, your partner stood up to get ready to go to work—going off to change into neater clothings that he stored in your house and getting decent—and went off to prepare a pot of coffee for you and stick bread in the toaster. feeling the sudden loss of heat as he went away, your sleep heavy mind blindly felt the portion of the bed that he usually slept on—the right—patting it, looking for the missing presence. this went on for a few minutes and your limb felt heavy as your tired body fell back asleep. you resigned to simply poke your arm from under the cover, hoping it’d catch someone. you were half asleep when the reaching hand finally found something, as it was held and gently guided to another’s cheek, yet another kiss pressed on your palm. you felt your heart melt, and hummed approvingly. « stay. you mumbled. he smiled at your naïve request. – i have to go to work. – skip work… f… ight the government… you yawned. – you know i can’t do that, my love. – i… order you... you sleep riddled mind was struggling to keep up as you slowly dozed again. to… – i’ll see you again this evening, i’ll be right back. oh yeah it’s saturday, you reminded yourself. no classes. you mentally cheered. – okk… you were going to pass out again. »

his warmth left you, and you find yourself yearning for it again. before he left, he glanced back towards you—practically buried under the duvet, only visible as a lump under the blanket and the hand poking through the right side. « i love you, [y/n] »

you were too gone to reply, but regardless, he left for work with a small smile.

work went on as usual. filling reports was boring, but it had to be done. at least he could finish them in record time, built to be more efficient at it than your typical human officer. being a detective assigned to the anti-android crimes taskforce, it was rather quiet right now, and though he was grateful that androids weren’t being harmed, it was terribly boring. though colin, who had to start all the way back at the beginning as a beat cop, seemed to be enjoying a peaceful break. he sighed for the umpteenth time as he fidgeted and fiddled with his coin, having already abused the fun out of his multiple pens and pencils. he missed spending time with you; at least it was exciting and unpredictable (getting to be with you is an enjoyable bonus). he stared blankly at his coin and sighed again. his father figure gave him a look across the desk—“did anything happen?”. he shook his head.—“no nothing bad or dangerous happened while i was with [y/n].”. the android then asked if he fancied a cup of coffee from the coffee shop across the road. the old man simply grunted.

« you can just take a walk, you don’t need to use me as a fucking excuse. – alright. he answered placidly. »

the android thought about walking to stretch his legs. maybe go to that bakery that you fancied so much. you did like the strawberry shortcake a crazy amount. but as he would find out, the slow and easy moments shouldn’t be taken for granted: a very disgruntled man, who stormed in to file a police report, happened to run in with the android, still somewhat deep in his musings. oh boy was he in for a rude awakening.

they both promptly apologise, however, once they saw each other they instantly recognised each other—though the detective kept his face neutral. « you! you’re the fucking android that trespassed into a restricted area! he accused. straight faced, he replied calmly. – i am indeed an android, but i believe you may have accused the wrong one. there often many iterations of the same model. he cursed his stars and the fates that put him in this situation. one that meant he was, as hank would put it, in deep shit. »

he was glad most people didn’t know there were only 2 rk800 currently in circulation: him and his brother, colin, whom he was trying to contact. as connor continued trying to placate the angry man, and deny his involvement in anything, he heard his brother’s voice come through.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[ ᵂᴴᴬᵀ'ˢ ᵁᴾ? ] > [ ᵀᴴᴱᴿᴱ ᴵˢ ᴬ ᴹᴬᴺ ᴼᵁᵀ ᴴᴱᴿᴱ, ᶜᴸᴱᴬᴿᴸᵞ ᵛᴱᴿᵞ ᶜᴿᴼˢˢᴱᴰ, ᵂᴴᴼ ᵂᴼᵁᴸᴰ ᴸᴵᴷᴱ ᵀᴼ ᶠᴵᴸᴱ ᴬ ᴾᴼᴸᴵᶜᴱ ᴿᴱᴾᴼᴿᵀ. ] he decided to give him a clear picture.

[ SENDING AUDIO-VISUAL FEED TO RK800 #313 248 317-60—COLIN ] [ LINK ESTABLISHED. WAITING PERMISSION… ] [ ACCEPTED. ]

> [ ᴬ ᵀᴿᴱˢᴾᴬˢˢ ᴼᴺ ᴾᴿᴵᵛᴬᵀᴱ ᴾᴿᴼᴾᴱᴿᵀᵞ ᴮᵞ ᴬ ᴰᴱᵛᴵᴬᴺᵀ ] there was a moment of silence before his brother replied. [ ᵂᴴᴬᵀ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴴᴱᴸᴸ ᴰᴵᴰ ᵞᴼᵁ ᵀᵂᴼ ᴳᴱᵀ ᴵᴺᵀᴼ ᴸᴬˢᵀ ᴺᴵᴳᴴᵀ? ] > [ ᴵ ᴬᴾᴾᴿᴱᶜᴵᴬᵀᴱ ᴴᴼᵂ ᵞᴼᵁ ᴵᴹᴹᴱᴰᴵᴬᵀᴱᴸᵞ ᴬˢˢᵁᴹᴱᴰ ᴵᵀ ᵂᴬˢ ᵁˢ. ] connor replied, sarcastic but devoid of humour. [ ᵂᴱᴸᴸ? ᵂᴬˢ ᴵᵀ ᴿᴱᴬᴸᴸᵞ ᵞᴼᵁ ᵀᵂᴼ? ] the android, who somehow felt a migraine develop—even though that shouldn’t be possible—sighed. > [ ᴸᴼᴺᴳ ˢᵀᴼᴿᵞ ˢᴴᴼᴿᵀ, ᵂᴱ ᵀᴿᴱˢᴾᴬˢˢᴱᴰ ᴵᴺᵀᴼ ᴬᴺ ᴬᴿᴱᴬ ᵂᵂ ˢᴴᴼᵁᴸᴰ'ᵛᴱ ᴬᵛᴼᴵᴰᴱᴰ. ] > [ˢᴱᴺᴰ ᴴᴱᴸᴾ? ] [ ᵞᴼᵁ? ᶜᴼᴹᴹᴵᵀᴱᴰ ᴬ ᶜᴿᴵᴹᴱ ᴼᴺ ᵞᴼᵁᴿ ᴼᵂᴺ ᵛᴼᴸᴵᵀᴵᴼᴺ? ]

the android could hear his brother cackle at his misery. though outside of earshot, the sound echoes in his mind as the link was not yet severed.

[ ᴺᴬᴴ, ᵞᴼᵁ'ᴿᴱ ᴼᴺ ᵞᴼᵁᴿ ᴼᵂᴺ ᴼᴺ ᵀᴴᴵˢ ᴼᴺᴱ ] [ ᴳᴼᴼᴰ ᴸᵁᶜᴷ ᵀᴴᴼᵁᴳᴴ. ] [ ᴴᴬᴺᴷ'ˢ ᴳᴼᴺᴺᴬ ᴮᴱ ᴾᴵˢˢᴱᴰ ] and with that, his brother abandoned him.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the man was absolutely irate, convinced that he was the one who trespassed in the venue—he wasn’t wrong—be he kept accusing someone of the same profile as him, but named “michael”. you really did him a favour on that one. it seemed like salvation had come however, as hank intercept the confrontation—the man calmed down after seeing a human officer. his brother must’ve informed the lieutenant (connor wants to thank him, but not), knowing how the appearance of two rk800s would only aggravate the situation. through a stroke of luck, the man didn’t have enough evidence to successfully file a report—against an rk800 named “michael”... who didn’t exist.

but to say that hank was pissed was an understatement. thus begins the walk of shame as hank demanded to « talk in private ». at the end of a severe tongue-lashing, decorated with many “fuck”s and “shit”s, he was in a sour mood and positively fuming. forget the shortcake. he was absolutely going to get back at you for this.

you were snoozing peacefully, off in dreamworld, when you woke up to the buzzing of your phone. groggy, you ran you hand under the pillows and felt for the object until you found it. checking it revealed that you 27 missed calls from an unknown number and a few message from them:

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

unknown number [ two missed message ]

> what the fuck did you get connor into? > ???????

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

bzz. bzz. a new message?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

unknown number [ 1 new message ]

> i know you saw the messages, fuckibg answer

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you also had a new message from connor, though his message didn’t bode well for you either:

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

connard2 anderson <3 [ 1 missed message ]

> we need to talk. > ):<

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the use of the emoji made you chuckle, but you were scared of what the future brought for you. oh boy… you were in deep shit weren’t you…

e͟p͟i͟l͟o͟g͟u͟e͟:

you lived to see another day. hank gave you an even more brutal scolding than what connor received, and you swore that if this were a shitty choice-that-matters game you’d see a metre for his friendship go down. not that there was much there in the first place.

connor gave an even more punishing sanction: he gave you the absolute silent treatment for a month. no talking, no hugs nor cuddles, and only the odd texts once in a blue moon. an absolutely miserable 31 days for you, spent by sulking. safe to say this was a punishment you’ll never forget, and one that will discourage you from ever trying that kind of stunt ever again.

or at least when connor’s around. it’s free game when it’s just you by yourself. connor knows this and simply sighs in resignation and just hopes you don’t get yourself in potentially future career ruining situation...

f͟o͟o͟t͟n͟o͟t͟e͟s

1. french expression that i was too lazy to translate, essentially means “watch out/stay alert”,,, somewhere along those lines, but informal. 2. connard is a french word pronounced almost like connor, but it means shithead. reader has a strange sense of humour.

like my work? consider ordering a commission // buying me a coffee // checking out my art tag or my masterlist | links can be found on my desc

[whetstonefires]

"the top three of its forty floors are filled with brass telescopes of every size, pointing in every possible direction, including several that do not exist within the normal three dimensions of space." thats SUCH a cool image / "If any harvest will come." ooh i wonder whats going on / "The roofs are of red tile, the stucco of the houses painted in shades of blue. It stands empty, but has not had time to fall into disrepair." the little bits of detail getting added to the picture im LOVE (1/?)

I’m gonna do these all as one post but broken up for ease of reference, I think.

Thank you! 🥰 Deciding the theme for the Tower and giving it that visual anchor really helped to pull things together. If you consider the whole setup, it seems unlikely the Tower was originally built as an observatory, since those tend to benefit from height (especially if you’re looking around you rather than up, but for the up ones also) and the builders could easily have put it on top of a mountain or at least some hills, but instead put it by the river. It’s above sea level, and it’s away from light pollution, but there were better locations. Nearby.

So either it wasn’t an observatory, and it’s been refitted as one, or they had so many observatories they didn’t care about locating them optimally, there was some other factor making having the tower there important even if it was suboptimal in terms of observation capacity. Or, potentially, it’s been moved since it was built!

:} Yay thank for being interested by the foreshadowing. I tried to put just enough in without actively overshadowing the actual place-setting-up and making the reader impatient with the description. 

"If you look through an enchanted telescope you may see trees without needles fail halfway up the nearest of the great peaks, and even these fail before the top, though there is a span of nearly barren stone past that line, before the snow begins." you: mentions different plants living in different climates me: :0 / there's so much good description!! its all so pretty!! (2/?)

sflka;l;jlk i mean yeah, that’s pretty straightforward isn’t it. But! It establishes How Much Mountain it is visually rather than by saying ‘it was a big fucking mountain’ or ‘it was tall enough for the thinness of atmosphere near the top to create a small tundra region.’

o(*￣▽￣*)ブ

<3 Thank you! I kinda cut loose lmao.

"blocks veined with every color, pale blues and purples, reds and greens and golden-duns all mottling toward white and grey and black" god i want to live there so badly!! this tower is meeting all my standards!! cool pretty magic tower with rad telescopes!!! / "make a remark no one present understands about a Doctor named Seuss. His guide, the dousing tracker Amnaphi, will assume this person to be a famous astronomer from his homeland." im love!! misunderstandings about references!! (?/?)

💗💖✨ Yay! That’s an important feeling to create in fantasy, imo. The wanting. 

I really enjoyed playing with the standard forms for ‘thing made of marble’ here, because all these marbles really exist, but in spite of the existence of the word ‘marbled’ our narrative uses of it tend to be tied up with Neoclassical aesthetics. So very white and smooth, yeah?

Also idk if it’s obvious to the reader but this Tower is to some degree in dialogue with Orthanc, which made a great impression on my mind as a child as the iconic wizardly tower, and while I don’t disagree with any of Tolkien’s use of symbolism for the purposes he was deploying it, there’s so much potential in Isengard as a setting that LotR had no space to explore, even if Tolkien would have noticed those angles at all.

Like...the parkland around the Tower is shown being despoiled for the orcish war machine and then reconquered by the forest, but of course it wasn’t forest to begin with. What was it for before Saruman lost his shit? Ordered gardens, for peaceful contemplation? Who dedicated the space that way? Who maintained it? 

Did Saruman employ a gardener? Did he design his own gardens, or did they come with the keep, which we’re informed was built not by him but by the Numenoreans? 

(“I liked white better” is still one of the greatest lines in a fantasy novel, Tolkien does not get enough credit for his contextually hilarious one-liners that rely on pointed code-switching, but Saruman’s evil rainbow oil-slick robes also sounded really baller and it’s kind of a shame they were not attempted for the movie lol.)

The fact that this is a world designed around a kid getting portal-fantasied into it and staying for 30 years really gives me some options which are fun to deploy but also like. Risky lmao. Because it encourages the reader to surface from the setting-logic and apply their own perspective, which can really break up the magic.

Being able to zoom out on the Tower after all that detail and be like ‘it’s awesome but also it looks like something Doctor Seuss would draw’ was fun though.

"Within the even hexagon of its outer wall, the Tower encloses a great parkland, enough that if it was all put under cultivation it could easily feed as many people as could live in the Tower itself." the tower has PLANTS i love it so much / "Ten Years’ Winter" god PLEASE tell me this is going to get into the agriculture and society stuff game of thrones didn't about long winters that would be SO cool / "Watchers of the Stars" AND they have a cool name holy shit (?/?)

Plants are important! As is food supply. As everyone who’s been reading this blog for a while already knows I think lol.

I mean, it’s not about that, really? The Ten Years’ Winter is a historical event--the most recent meteor impact severe enough to have global climate fallout. The dust it kicked up took a while to settle, and the famines were pretty severe.

But the cultural consequences of something that happened a hundred and fifty years ago exist, and are important, including the relationship between governance and disaster preparedness, which varies a lot regionally as you may imagine. 

Astronomy has a long history as a wizardly sort of activity in the real world, both because it’s had continual overlap with astrology and just because the process has always been mystical and abstruse. In this setting, with a history of both devastating meteor impacts and being invaded from the Moon, but also actual magic, it’s got more obvious practical importance. Although since neither of these are remotely everyday occurrences, the average person on the street might not agree lol.

So it’s on the one hand a purely descriptive title, and on the other hand a serious boast, suggesting as it does that they are primarily responsible for Watching The Sky For Stuff. While also having broader philosophical implications and just sounding nice lol. 

You gotta have good marketing if you want to persist as a wizardly order, because if talented students aren’t motivated to come to you how will you gain new members? Natural replacement is not an ideal strategy to say the least. That’s how you turn into a cult instead of an intellectual powerhouse.

"The northern third of the Tower’s park contains neatly regimented orchards, apples, pears, plums, and a few rows of carefully tended peaches and apricots, all clipped flat against low brick walls angled south and slightly west." hhh t r e e s / "wizards, while enthusiastic about innovation in the abstract, hate change." me too, wizards. me too / "The Tower grounds are filled with refugees." ooh now we get to why everything was empty earlier (?/?)

Trees! Which are also food!

And technology lol. Greenhouses built against fruit walls with good insulation are so much more sensible than ones heated from inside. Obviously as a passive solar-powered technology these only work when the sun is available and not, for example, cut off by a giant dust cloud. 

These people are fairly acutely aware of their dependence on the sun and it figures prominently in a majority of their religions and their magical theory, even more than in ours.

There seems to be a mild consensus that the wizards are relatable. In truth: we are all wizards. :D

Yup! At long last lol.

"This division corresponds imperfectly to the usual split of the town by the course of the Meroda." because people!! take comfort!! in what normalcy they can find!! / "Makeshift pallets line the spaces between every fruit wall—the injured are being laid out here, now that the Tower is full, to get the benefit at night of the warmth meant to mature fruit." the awesome magic tower people trying to do everything they can for the injured who come to them for help in case i thought i couldn't be (?)

more in love / "Half of them are making ready to turn south along the Meroda." oh nooooo / "but the Moon People are the successors of the ancient magics, and just because they could not break the walls the last time they came, according to legend, does not mean they have not worked out a method now." im so worried for the people oh no (?)

Yeah! It really seemed natural. But of course they also aren’t recreating it obsessively; lots of people are grouping up with relatives who normally live across the river, or with people in the same line of work on the river, because people also adapt to circumstances.

No institution is ever perfect, of course, but I’m glad the Watchers have come across this way so far. They’re broadly well-intentioned and mostly well-organized.

And they were not ready for this.

A significant fraction of the reason for the order of the Watchers to exist at all, particularly in this observatory with its great eye fixed ever on the face of the green moon, is to be able to warn the world if this ever happens again. But the Moon People knew they were being watched, this time, and they kept all the build-up to mobilization that might have given them away on the far side of the moon until the last minute.

What the Magister is doing, as I hope was made clear or at least successfully indicated--I wish your commentary on the ending had come through!--is summoning what turns out to be an actual child from another world to do hero stuff.

Even if he’d gotten an adult that would be kidnapping someone to help with your problems, a routine element of the portal fantasy whose ethics have been addressed in a variety of ways, most famously ‘is Lion Jesus and always right.’ 

The reason they need a hero from another world is that the Moon People build a lot of their wards and their offensive and disabling magical attacks around a targeting system based on what planet people are from, because even though they’re originally from the same stock--they’re the descendants of ancient moon colonists who evacuated ahead of a major meteor impact somewhere approaching four thousand years ago--on a magical level having been born and raised on the planet or the moon makes a pretty huge difference. 

So no one can get into the place their magic space elevator is anchored and fuck it up so they can’t keep bringing troops and supply in and loot out. Their single supply line is their only strategic weakness, and they’ve taken appropriate precautions.

Getting someone in from a third location is the best idea anyone’s been able to come up with in the very limited time available. Since no one can figure out how to turn one of the Moon People against the cause they came here for, on short notice, when they aren’t even stopping to talk to anyone so far. Like, that’s clearly not going to happen.

Heron Yl Fanult isn’t unaware that it’s ethically questionable, but he’s doing it anyway.

So I’m glad the ominous imminent oncoming of the Moon People can really be felt, because that atmosphere is fairly essential context for the decisionmaking going on at the top of the Tower.

"Young wizards sit in their bunks, six each to rooms that were previously individual, and hold lighting cupped dancing in their palms." a quick break from being worried to point out that this is rad as hell / "some with their heads decorously covered..." cultural differences!! especially with regional purposes like the Hedro!! 

Thank you! 😆💖 I thought so too lol. 

It also establishes the parameters of the magic system a little more. Throwing lightning bolts is pretty iconicly high-powered, right? And here it’s what most of the student wizards are practicing in anticipation of a battle, because most of them aren’t specced into combat and this is actually one of the easier lethal spells to master, especially if you have an academic background.

‘Electrocute’ isn’t a very flexible spell and it’s easy to lose control of, but it’s actually easier than, say, ‘set on fire to a significant degree in a non-electrical manner’ because concentrating a lot of heat in a certain location takes a lot more brute force than encouraging ionization. 

You can pull most of the actual destructive force for the palm lightning spell out of the physical air and/or earth if you grasp the principles, which is much easier than channeling a comparable amount of magic directly because it doesn’t have to go through you. 

The limiting factors on magic in this setting are how much power you can tap into and how much of it you can actually use without hurting or killing yourself. It’s not usually a lot, though the amount can be increased by things like choosing your workspace, prepping your workspace, and a whole lot of practice and meditation and things like that.

Magical traditions that get bundled under the heading of wizardry tend to focus on force multiplication, obtaining enough contextual understanding of a subject to make whatever power is applied go further. This means a lot of studying theory and using magic to make observations (such as the existence of microorganisms and their connection to disease) and often results in making clever devices based on what you’ve learned that may not actually wind up being magical at all. 

Which is why the solar greenhouse proposal is considered ‘more wizardly’ than the fruit walls, which are wizardly in the first place even though the technology is pretty widespread at this point--it’s carried the principle of minimizing the energy you have to invest to get the result you want to the logical conclusion, where you don’t have to do any magic at all, you just set up the situation and get out of the way and the sun will do the work for you.

Other schools of magic, particularly religious ones, are more likely to emphasize just getting better at handling energy for yourself, which tends to yield a lot more in the way of immediate practical dividends and in a lot of quarters wizards who don’t do something obviously practical like physic or smithcraft with their theoretical background are considered crackpots or dilettantes 

An impression helped along by the fact that being taken on as a student of wizardry at a basic level tends to focus more on your reading comprehension than your ability to actually do any magic, so in places where religious and wizardly institutions coexist the most talented students have a tendency to gravitate toward the religious life. This is particularly marked in areas religiously dominated by the Compact of the Golden Circle, wherein full ordination is contingent on being able to pull off certain fairly hefty rituals, so if you aren’t physically or mentally up to that kind of magical heavy lifting your religious career will stall out in one of the lay fraternities. In some of the cities on Sutouchel, the landmass to the southeast where the Compact is based, a slang term for wizard is ‘sanctum washout.’

But of course force multiplication is something that can scale up pretty far, and studying theory doesn’t stop you from also putting work into your practical skills, and not having talent isn’t the only reason someone would choose not to seek out a clerical career, if it’s even an option. Religion along the Meroda is pretty localized; communities tend to have local deities who correspond to a natural feature like the nearest mountain or the river or something, and if that deity rates a fulltime shrine the keeper also tends to be the major local medical provider, and since the wizards got settled in at the Tower it’s become pretty popular for shrinekeeping families to send their kids there for a year or two to get some educational polish in addition to what their parent already emphasized.

So depending on where you live and what your personal experience has been you’re going to have very different ideas about what wizards are good for.

Hrm. I’ve gone on a tangent. But that wound up taking so long you came back! :D I love it when being turtle works out in my favor.

Or was this actually the meta I was supposed to be doing in the first place? Aaaaa who knows.

im fairly confident you said eight asks survived so this is number nine? anyways onwards! "The hale survivors of the First Battle of the Second Descent sit waiting in their leathers, jack-chains and helmets laughably inadequate armor against the coming danger, and yet the best hope now just as they were on Carun Tol once the wizard fell" i have a lot of emotions about how their best bet is also a terrible bet but its all they have (9/?)

Yes 8. 

Woo, thank you! ^^ & I love that you described it that way because that also describes the ‘summon alien’ spell Yl Fanult is casting and echoing the same emotional theme throughout the scene was very much the goal here.

"Threads have escaped from the braids pinned across the top of her skull: she has not had the chance to take them down for two days." god just the continuation of how desperate everything is / "He leans forward to peer through the narrow glass that has been turned on its articulated base to face the middle of the room, and relaxes very slightly. At least there has been no catastrophic alteration there, either." what does that one do id assume theres no approching army in the middle of the room -

:D Yeah, the fact that one of the chief medics available is already overworked to the point of neglecting nonessential personal hygiene and the enemy isn’t even here yet I hoped would resonate.

Well, remember how some of the telescopes at the beginning point in directions not included in the normal three dimensions of space? :}

- "trained as it long has been upon the face of the moon" also forgot to mention their enemies being from the moon is Rad As Hell / "He snaps his fingers for a spark that falls into the deep circular groove full of distilled spirits, and steps through that as well. He is not burned." ooooh whats he doing / "At his feet lie a glittering piece of gold ore, a moonstone, and a carefully sanded round of pumice." i see the connection to the moonstone bc moon army but i wonder about the others -

Thank you! It took a fair amount of poking before I decided it was a solid approach; it provides just enough physical alienation that there’s no direct cultural relationship and you can have that ‘everyone in the entire world Disliked That’ vibe, without needing to create any complicated magical and cultural explanation for such a long run of isolationism. They were out of contact because they were On The Moon.

Also I really get a kick out of putting space invaders in a fantasy setting in a way that stops just short of turning into sci-fi.

I’m glad the ritual lead-up is exciting! Even if the foreshadowing wasn’t as obvious as I thought it was lol. That’s fixable. 

Gold is for the sun, moonstone is yeah for the moon lol (although in other circumstances people also use jade, because it’s been a long time since the moon was uniformly silver on account of it having been terraformed a few thousand years ago) and pumice is for the world--it’s a stone full of air that floats on water, so it’s popular as an anchoring device for rituals that call on all three local celestial bodies.

"He cannot take much time. He has only until the ring of fire dies." whats he doingggggg / anyways i love this so much!! the descriptions are gorgeous and im so invested in all of everything!! i hope you write more im so curious about it all!! 

XD Ok I covered this already, I would have saved it for down here or Been Mysterious if tumblr hadn’t eaten the last few asks the first time lol. Thank you so much again! For encouragement! Before and now! I’ll try! To keep it going!

Here’s hoping this successfully posts, tumblr just kicked me onto New Dashboard again and disabled the turn-it-off button, so now my alternate posting strategy is borked up too. 🤞😅😘

[lusilly]

what laughter is to childhood

i’ve been meaning to finish a very very short piece about damian being 16 years old and thinking he’s Super Smart for some time now. will post to ao3 tomorrow. dami/irey cuteness. enjoy!

---

           In the early morning, an alarm went off on the phone on Damian’s bedside table. Behind the blackout curtains of his room, dawn was only just beginning to break outside. In an instant Irey was up, swiping the phone off the table and silencing the alarm.

           Groggily, Damian turned over to wrap his arms around his girlfriend’s waist. She giggled and returned the embrace, holding him about his shoulders. His face buried in her neck, he murmured, “It’s too early.”

           She kissed the top of his head. “I know,” she replied, sympathetically. “This is a lot easier at the Tower, huh?”

           Still pressed against her shoulder he let out a small sigh, and a moment later she vanished, leaving his arms empty and his bed cold. Damian rolled over once more, drawing the covers up around his bare chest, and went back to sleep.

           An hour or so later – Damian always slept fitfully in the mornings after Irey left – he got out of bed, heading first to the bathroom. After his shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist and then carefully inspected the very obvious marks along his neck and collarbone. He took a few selfies on Snapchat and sent them to Irey, captioned, Today’s damage.

           Her reply consisted mainly of a number of emojis and lots of exclamation points. A little later she sent a selfie of herself in the bathroom mirror, her own towel wrapped around her waist. One arm draped across her chest to preserve her modesty (not that it was difficult; Iris had very little to show in that department), the photo was captioned, Im clean…try harder next time.

           Iris’s superspeed meant that any marks he left on her skin were gone before they even formed, but Damian liked the challenge. As they texted, Damian carefully dabbed concealer over the marks along his neck, though he didn’t bother with the one lower down his chest. Nobody would see it, anyway.

           This game he and Irey played would only continue to be fun if they could manage to keep it a secret, so Damian meticulously covered up any visible evidence of lovebites, careful to make it look as natural as possible. Not that it was likely his father would be suspicious – the Batman didn’t think any speedster could get past the sensors set up around Wayne Manor. He had no clue how fast Iris was. Apart from Damian nobody in the world knew how fast she was, and even Damian, constrained to the normal laws of physics, stranger to the Speed Force, could never fully comprehend her true power. Keeping a secret of this magnitude together was thrilling. The fact that it helped her sneak into the house so they could spend time together after hours was just a plus.

           Downstairs, Alfred was already preparing breakfast. Like he did on many mornings, Damian went about critiquing his choices. “I don’t like smoked salmon,” Damian insisted, standing in the refrigerator door, inspecting a package of the stuff. “I don’t know why you still insist on buying it.”

           “If I recall,” Alfred replied patiently, “last week you positively devoured it.”

           “That was lox,” Damian retorted. “Lox and smoked salmon are two completely different things.”

           “Are they really?” asked Alfred mildly, fully aware of the slight culinary differences between the two products, and also aware that Damian never seemed to notice unless he inspected the packaging before being served. “Why, I had no idea.”

           “Lox isn’t smoked at all,” continued Damian, digging his hand into the produce drawer to withdraw a handful of loose grapes. Popping one after the other into his mouth, he took a seat at the counter. “It’s cured, but not smoked. It’s saltier, and I don’t like that smoked taste, it makes it taste off.”

           Damian didn’t like a great many things, but it helped immensely when he could sit here, in the kitchen, and watch Alfred prepare his food. He even schmeared his own bagel, like a big boy. “Pineapple or kiwi?” asked Alfred, of Damian’s daily protein-boosted fruit smoothie.

           “Pineapple,” answered Damian, through a mouthful of bagel. His favorite lately. He swallowed the bagel, then added, “I don’t like kiwi, I’ve told you that.”

           He’d decided he hadn’t liked kiwi a few months ago, when Dick had visited for a few days and pushed Damian into near hysterics by taking a bite out of a kiwi whole, as if it were an apple. Dick insisted the fiber was good for you. Damian had countered that the fiber intake derived from kiwi skins was negligible at best, unless you ate about thirty kiwis at a time. Dick had taken that as a personal challenge.

           “I shall have to replace kiwi in our rotation, then,” agreed Alfred smoothly, as the blender whirred. “Perhaps something more exciting than oranges. Grapefruit?”

           “I can’t have grapefruit,” said Damian, scrolling through something on his phone.

           This wasn’t true, as Alfred was acutely aware of all the medications Damian was currently on, and all their various interactions. But he wouldn’t argue. “Papaya, perhaps?”

           “I like mango,” offered Damian, as Alfred placed his smoothie in front of him. “Iris’s mother makes incredible mango juice.” Iris’s mother bought mango juice in cartons from Whole Foods for $7.99, but Damian didn’t know that.

           As Alfred busied himself with making breakfast for himself – Bruce would not be up for another hour yet, at which time he could forage for his own meal – he asked, “And how is young Miss West, I might ask?”

           “She’s well,” answered Damian, taking an exploratory sip of the smoothie, then setting it down once more, apparently pleased. “Well,” he amended, “technically speaking, she’s grounded, so not as well as usual.”

           “Did something happened?”

           “She and her brother had an argument. I can sympathize, having argued with a fair number of brothers in my lifetime.” All sixteen years and three quarters of it.

           “Which resulted in her becoming grounded?” Alfred made a face, impressed. “Perhaps we should have tried that method with you, when you were younger.”

           “I believe you did,” Damian pointed out. “And as far as I recall, it didn’t work.”

           Alfred asked, “Does it work for her?”

           Damian didn’t answer. When Alfred turned around to breakfast with Damian, neither of them said anything. “Why wouldn’t it?” asked Damian, as Alfred took a sip of his own smoothie.

           “Merely a question,” Alfred murmured, turning to his bagel with a sigh.

           Later that day, Damian worked on an assignment from a teacher Bruce had commissioned with whom he communicated remotely – that is, he holed up in his room, door closed, music turned up just loud enough to drown out the noise from beyond his own space. Though by the nature of the computer networks in the house Bruce could at any moment peek at whatever internet activity his son was taking, he generally refrained from doing so. They had promised some years ago that they would try to set normal boundaries, even in such abnormal circumstances. So when an alert lit up that informed Bruce that Damian had enabled a rudimentary network masking program – a sort of glorified ‘Private Browser’ – Bruce just quietly silenced the notification, well aware that his son was, in fact, a normal teenager.

           Before patrol, Damian joined his father in the Batcave for some light training. In a specialized suit which recorded his every movement and vital signs, he executed maneuvers in the simulation room exquisitely, more perfect than any of the boys had ever been. More perfect than Bruce had ever been. Damian rivaled Cassandra in all ways except for his reliance on brute force, whereas Cass would always default towards the simplest option, the way to beat her opponent as easily and effortlessly as possible.

           The effort was part of the thrill, for Damian. When the sim dropped, Damian breathed ragged breaths, grinning up at the camera through which he knew his father was watching. “Is that all you’ve got?” he called, taunting.

           Bruce mic’d in. “Enough for tonight,” he said shortly. “You’re on patrol in an hour. Get some rest.”

           With a sigh, Damian exited the sim room. Before he went to shower or change his clothes, he picked up his phone, which had buzzed with several notifications whilst he was training. Bruce went back to work on the Batcomputer.

           After a few minutes, an alert popped up on the screen: Damian’s suit was registering a spike in heartrate.

           Bruce frowned, then clicked to open a camera feed to the place Damian had left his phone. And sure enough, Damian still stood there, his eyes glued to his phone, which he was very obviously trying to hide, to shield from whatever prying camera eyes may be found over the Cave.

           He lifted the phone in front of him, catching his face, tapping the screen. He opened his mouth. Bruce frowned again, then zoomed in with the security camera. On his son’s phone, two years and a doggy mouth were superimposed over his face, the tongue wagging when Damian opened his mouth.

           Damian then made a very crass gesture with two of his fingers, and Bruce turned the feed off very quickly. Raising a teenager was exhausting.

           Rather than the showers in the Cave, Damian generally prepared to venture back up into the house in his gear and use the shower in his own room. Bruce didn’t mind this; none of the boys had ever been as fastidious as Damian was about maintaining their identity and separating home life and Batcave life, and none had ever been as finicky about the hygiene of shared bathing spaces as Damian had, so no harm, no foul. In a very good mood, Damian came bounding downstairs with his hair still damp, ready for patrol.

           As the three of them gathered for the only shared meal of the day, something light but nutritious before patrol, Damian chatted excitably about his ongoing missions, the assignments he was working on, the Titans, the new designs he was work on. “Lian showed me how to cross stitch and now we’re all at it, all hours of the day,” he babbled, running his hand through his damp hair. “I can’t explain it, perhaps if it were knitting and we were – you know – creating something, it would make more sense for all of us to be so set upon it, but really we’re just making moons and flowers and things. I should speak to her about finding new designs,” he continued absently, rubbing at a sore spot on his neck. “Did you know, she says you can stitch them onto pillows, or something?” Distantly, he wondered, “Maybe Dick would like a pillow for his birthday.”

           “I’m sure he would,” agreed Alfred. Bruce grunted, scanning through the Gazette. “Damian,” added Alfred.

           Without looking up from his food, Damian answered, “Hn?”

           There was a pause. Alfred let out a gentle cough. Damian looked up.

           Alfred met his gaze. Then, pointedly, he glanced towards Damian’s neck, at the spot he’d just been rubbing. For a second Damian was confused, then he froze stock still. Slowly, he looked down at his hand – and saw a patch of concealer rubbed off on his fingers, which had not yet fully dried.

           Wide-eyed, Damian looked back up at Alfred, then, without turning his head, glanced sidelong at his father. Alfred offered him a little smile, then he held up his mug. “Would you mind terribly fetching me a spot of tea, Damian?”

           “Yes,” said Damian instantly, seizing the mug and the opportunity. “Of course. One moment.” Then, calmly, measuredly, he walked out of the dining room.

           Once past the threshold, he dashed up the stairs three at a time, sprinting to his bedroom to safely reapply concealer onto his neck.

           Bruce sipped his coffee, eyes still focused on the newspaper.

           “Bruise or a hickey?” he asked.

           Waiting for Damian to return with his tea, Alfred replied, “The latter, I’m afraid.”

           “I’ll need to speak to Wally about this, of course,” muttered Bruce, inspecting a particular article that caught his eye. “Can’t have her roughing him up too badly every night.”

           “Puppy love, sir. Happened to them all.”

           “Cassandra never gave me this trouble.”

           “Or, as we well know, she’s simply more competent than her brothers.”

           Finally Bruce looked up, frowning at Alfred as he sipped from his coffee mug.

           Then he sighed, returning to the newspaper. “Just as long as he’s using protection.”

           It was then that Damian returned, barreling into the room breathing far too evenly, his eyes too round and paranoid. “Here,” he said, setting the cup of tea down before Alfred. “With lemon, as you like it.”

           “Thank you,” said Alfred graciously.

           “You’ll be on your usual route tonight,” Bruce told Damian, setting the newspaper down. “I might have Spoiler join you.”

           “Isn’t Stephanie too busy for nightly patrol?”

           “Yes,” agreed Bruce. “But I’m sure she’ll make an exception.” He got to his feet, dishes in hand. “Understood?”

           “Yes,” said Damian immediately, with a nod. “Understood.”

           As Alfred watched his boys drive off into the night, he let out a quiet sigh.

           They grow up so fast.

[moralhymn]

honestly im curious after seeing it on your blog what is sort of the foundation of ignis/ardyn or the dynamic? I've never seen the ship before!

hi there hello you’ve opened up a WHOLE CAN OF WORMS HERE BECAUSE I LOVE THIS SHIP SO DAMN MUCH–

honestly i– i don’t remember how i started shipping it. for.. context, i will say that when i first dipped my toe into the 15 fandom, i actually started as a gladio rper. he was my favorite, with the combination of the anger issues and obvious intelligence that he had ( and lbr gladio does have some serious anger issues; he’s not a bad guy for it though! it just makes him more interesting to me as a character because how many times is something like that shown having consequences? you see it with gladio and how he grows and matures. i love it! ) and my twin from another mother was like “why aren’t you writing ardyn?” 

me and my unsuspecting ass: “i don’t know i guess i’m trying to veer away from villains here.”

she just laughed at me. a lot. because she knew. she knew what was coming. so i, in my dumb naivety, forge ahead in the game and then i met ardyn and it was all downhill from there. especially after altissia. so i kinda… acquired ardyn as a muse and boy i didn’t know what i was getting in for. i really, truly didn’t. he’s come to mean so much to me as a character because he’s so beautifully complex. i have a serious love for seeing dark side characters, especially if they started on the good side of things, and between his flamboyant mannerisms, his speech patterns ( WHICH I ABSOLUTELY LOATHE TRYING TO IMITATE IN RP BECAUSE I NEVER FEEL LIKE I GET CLOSE ENOUGH TO THEM ), and his choice of archaic wording, he was practically gift-wrapped for me.

and his parallels to both jesus and lucifer are both seriously big draws for me too.

so, anyways, about the ship! 

honestly, i couldn’t begin to tell you where it came from for me or where i started looking into it. it just sorta… happened! i think it also happened in large part because i am honestly dissatisfied with ignis’s popular ships of gladnis and ignoct, seeing him together with ardyn just drew me in. i mean, i can appreciate those two ships and more power to anyone who ships them! if it makes you happy, then go for it! but a lot of gladnis is written in ways that set my teeth on edge ( and i must reference one fic where gladio was calling ignis baby. i am fairly certain that ignis would stab you with a fork if you tried that. ) and as for ignoct… it’s probably the fact that it’s a gross misinterpretation of the warrior-retainer archetype relationship that they share, not to mention how maternal ignis is towards noctis. i can see and understand the basis for both ships but they lack a certain luster for me.

but boy, for some reason, ignis and ardyn just have this fascinating interaction with one another. i could go into over analysis here on every scene they share together but i won’t, lmfao. but there’s something interesting about the fact that ignis gets especially bitchy when talking to or about ardyn, to me. i mean, ignis can be pretty bitchy in general ( and before anyone tries to say he’s not, he really is. his dialogue in the japanese is legit him trying to sound like a tough guy and he just gets so bristly when talking about ardyn. ) but there’s like an uptick in it where ardyn’s concerned. now, some people might go “but wait doesn’t that mean he doesn’t like him?” and, yeah, i can see that. but when you ship a rarepair, you reach for what you can get and are satisfied with things. also, everyone interprets things differently! ignis seems… acutely interested in some way in ardyn but there’s also other subtle hints of their interactions, at least to me.

two of the biggest factors are sagefire and ignis being able to tell noctis who ardyn really is once he’s free of the crystal, including his history.

now, exactly where could ignis have learned this stuff? the answer is, of course, ardyn. ardyn, whose new dlc literally calls him the sage. ardyn, who would probably answer ignis’s demands because heaven knows gladio and prompto don’t go near him.

also the fact that prompto asks ignis if ardyn’s not his type and ignis doesn’t bother saying that, no, ardyn is not my type, kinda… raised my eyebrows more than a little. ( also, ignis not really contributing to talks about that kind of stuff? hm. interesting. )

so i honestly believe that ignis has met with ardyn, more than once, to learn both sagefire and ardyn’s history. i mean, the only person who could have reliably told ignis about it was him. sagefire is another thing that i’m working out in my head but, you know, ignis is definitely a man who’ll pursue knowledge in all its forms and ardyn, being ardyn, being this two thousand year old being who can show him so many different things, would probably lure him in like a moth to a flame. and given how i view ardyn, i know that he’d respect ignis for his own person. not as noctis’s caretaker. not as a man who was being groomed to be a general. not as part of the flock. but his own individual with his own wants and desires. and i think that’d suck ignis right on in, to be honest. now, i’m not saying that the bros don’t recognize ignis as his own person, far from it - but the way that they handle things just kinda shows that, as tight as they are, there’s misunderstandings between them. 

i just see ignis and ardyn having this super dazzling chemistry and interesting influence on one another as well. like, ardyn might sleep around, but if he finds someone who can stand as his equal, the way i see ignis being able to, then you’ve got his interest securely on you and that can be a powerful, frightening thing, to be honest. after all, it’d make one wonder what it is about them that would bring in the attention of a man who’s seen so much and done so many things in his life, right? but ardyn would see ignis for his intelligence, his skill, probably even finding his sharp tongue and wit charming too. and there’s the fact that he never seems to take any action against ignis either. i mean, even in altissia, he doesn’t really fight ignis; he just kinda makes a few cursory gestures but overall? ignis beat the snot out of him and ardyn just seemed to take it. i mean, yeah, there was probably the whole “oh you can’t really do anything to hurt me” deal, but this is ardyn we’re talking about here. ardyn, who messes with the other three something awful, after all.

but ignis? he literally stops him with a raised hand at the stronghold. he’s impressed by him putting on the ring ( and rather surprised ). he probably taught him the sagefire technique. and i will never shake the idea that it was ignis who got ardyn to talk about himself, his past, his relation to the lucis caelum bloodline, and so much more. 

i just honestly find their dynamic so fascinating to look at and to explore. i think that out of all four of the bros, ignis would be the one ardyn would go for anyways. prompto, he already knows how to handle. gladio? well, ardyn’s just going to irritate him. noctis? he hates the poor kid. but ignis? ignis would definitely make ardyn’s head turn so fast that it’s a wonder it doesn’t fly off his neck. so, yeah, i just think that out of all the people ignis could hook up with, ardyn would probably just lure him in so fast and so hard that it’s amazing to me. 

so i guess the foundation is, in the end, this whole… ( vague hand gestures. ) this whole deal of thinking that they’d just have this super magnetic interest in one another. i mean, yeah, even after altissia? yeah, even after altissia. it just? i don’t know. i think that in some ways ignis would lure ardyn in as well for how he’s both selfish and selfless at the same damn time. ardyn would crave that level of devotion for himself, since it was something he lost before he was cast out of history. to see it in ignis? oh, it’s just like icing on the cake. how can he resist that? he wouldn’t be able to.

i just have a lot of reasons and viewpoints for this ship and oh my god i rambled i will shut up now.

[wiccantree]

caffeine challenge #27

even if i had no idea where this would amble to, it was fun.

and i still don’t hate it.

#############

“I didn’t do it to save your life”

“You moron. You selfish, egotistical moron. I know you didn’t do it for me, you did it for yourself.”

“I’m not egotistical. And we both know that, yes, I did it out of self-preservation. Because the moment you aren’t here anymore, I will ruin this realm trying to get you back.”

“And you don’t see how this is a problem?”

“Of course I do. That is why we are in this mess. You want out of it? Well so do I.” Their voice cracked on the last word. “Only difference is I don’t want the deaths I would cause to- seriously? I have to explain this again?”

“There’s no one here but us, take your time.”

“We don’t have any, that’s the problem. What the hell was the point of me going through all of that? I didn’t ask for this crap to happen. I actively avoided it for decades. I’m too old for this.  I never expected the payment would be this high. I can’t.” They sank to their knees.

They grabbed his hands and placed them on their temples. Tears streaking their face from clenched eyes, the pleasurable tingle radiating from their touching flesh making the pain even more acute. They opened their eyes and stared into the molten brown rimmed in fire of his. “You have the power to stop this from going any further. Once you have by all means, make the right choice, I wont be there to stop you this time. But you will NOT leave me here, like this, without you. Now do it.” They clasped his hands as the fell from their head and slammed them back and squeezed them. “Please?”

They stayed there as time sped up and froze, rewound itself and slowed. Molten brown tempered by the watery icy-green eyes of their twin flame.

“You can’t ask me to do this.”

“I’m not asking, I’m begging. If you don’t, I won’t stop until this realm is a wasteland and I won’t care. But right here, right now, we have the chance to stop me from becoming the villain. All of it. Loosing family, killing friends, selling my soul; finding out none of those were mine to loose in the first place. Finding you. Hating you. Loving you. Making love with you. Finding a family. All of that was you. And you are going to throw it away for what? A prophecy?”

“If I don’t the world will end.”

“If you do, I can guarantee it will.” They stare up, tears still falling at the gains made and losses torn from both of them getting here. “So, will you meet it with me? Or ensure I cause it? Or take the third option and end both of those outcomes. Im begging you.”

“You still don’t get it, if I do as you ask, I –“

“You will be here. Where you were destined to be and you will have a life force to give to the Beast and the world will continue to turn. And you get to move on and live a life that is yours and yours alone.”

“That’s the thing.” He sank to his knees in front of them. Hands now holding their head under his own power. “I don’t want to be alone.” His face was incredibly close to theirs now. Too close. The warmth of his breath whispering over their lips.

They sag and close the distance, resting their forehead against his. “Fine pair we turned out to be.” The pounding through the palace that had been steadily growing louder ceased as the entrance to the chamber slammed the walls as it was thrown open by a gust of wind. “What the Hell?!” he asked

“What?” they asked as two men entered the chamber, one of which looked like a younger version of them.

“Who the hell are you?”  He asked the two warriors, for that is the only conclusion one could make with the attire they were wearing.

“Who the hell are you?” the first one asked in an almost mocking tone. “I’m glad to see some things wont change.” he muttered to the second man.

“I asked you first.” He said releasing their head and standing to his impressive height once again.

“Are-are you? This can’t be. How?” They ask the disconcerting doppelganger.

“Here, now, you make a decision that will change your future.” The first intruder responded.

“And what? You’re here to stop it?” despite everything they’ve gone through and were about to, he stepped in front of their lover acting as a shield.

The doppelganger from the window now, looking down at the city, “No, we’re here to make sure you go trough with it. D-“

“Shhhht!” the first one admonished

Their young doppelganger cleared his throat before looking at both of the men in the middle of the room in a circle of clear floor where the damage of a broken spell was cast aside “We will secure the perimeter, you two carry on. What ever this is looks, uh, important.” He said before going back out of the room. Grunting his companion followed him.

He looked down to his- what were they now? It didn’t matter. He offered his hand and pulled them to their feet when they took it.

“I’m guessing things just got a lot more complicated”

“So, still mad I didn’t do it to save your life?”

“Don’t get smug with me you-“ whatever profanity he was about to hurl was cut off by the sudden pressure of lips on his.