#i just think dream needs a little self reflection before hes ready for proper love (them) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whumperooni · 4 years

Note

omg i love your todoroki incest fics and i saw you want aizawa and chisaki thirsts,,,we have dadzawa,,,,,so what about kai-nii with quirkless baby sister hehe👉🏼👈🏼

I’ve never written Chisaki before, so please be gentle! m(￣ｰ￣)m

I, uh, also added in some Kurono x Reader because I can’t help but to be self-indulgent;;;;

tags/warnings: tw incest, a bit of angst, drinking, mentions of blood

word count: 4.7k

Lucky- that’s what you are.

Lucky to be adopted by a rich man along with your brother. Lucky to have so many capable men around to protect you from the people that might try to cause you harm just to get to your brother, your father. Lucky to be living in a gilded cage so spoiled and cared for.

Lucky to be quirkless.

Blood drips down the walls and your brother breathes ragged- skin spotting and rage in his eyes, your own staring down at the mess of what used to be a man that’s now ruining a formerly spotless hallway.

Lucky.

You’re very lucky.

Your brother slips his glove back on and places his hand to the small of your back. He begins walking and you follow him without a word- skirting and stepping over the gore littering the floor, staring ahead with a blank face.

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The world is filthy. It’s disgusting. Marred by a plague that everyone is oh too happy to pretend is a miracle.

That’s what your brother tells you.

You don’t really believe it- not really. Quirks are miracles, nightmares. They’re not a plague, though- simply an evolution that no one could have ever predicted.

An evolution that you have been spared.

“Miss? Your brother wishes to see you.”

Wishes to see you? That’s a nice way to say that he’s demanding your presence- ordering you to come to him.

Not that you can mind- as crazed as your big brother may be, you do still love him. He’s your big brother, after all, and he’s always kept you safe, cared for.

You hum and then you nod, dismissing the maid with a lazy wave of your hand.

“Thank you, Saiko.”

The maid bows, low and proper, and then you’re left by yourself, left to sigh and rise from the bath.

You had wanted to soak a little longer, but you musn’t tarry whenever Kai calls for you.

You dry yourself and you take just a moment to smooth lotion over your soft, still warm body.

Floral and sweet, but not overly cloying. It carries the scent of roses and peonies, is laced through with the scent of honey.

It’s your brother’s favorite.

You begin to dress after- humming absently as you slip on your stockings, your garter-belt, your lace adorned bra and panties. You hesitate over an outfit before selecting a simple dress- something that hugs your body gently, keeps you looking ever so innocent.

Kai prefers you to look innocent. Sweet.

Pure.

You’re the daughter of the head of Shie Hassaikai. You’re the sister to Kai Chisaki- the sister of Overhaul. You’re expected to look as a young lady should- put together, soft and gentle, without any sort of flaws in either your appearance or composure.

You cast a critical eye over your reflection and only look away when you’re sure that you’re acceptable, when you’re sure that you look worthy enough to be in the presence of your big brother.

A step out of your bedroom and then you’re flanked by two guards- solemn things that don’t look at you, stony faced men that lead you through the maze that lies underneath your home.

Kai doesn’t like men looking at you- he thinks that they’re unworthy to cast their sordid gazes upon you; he thinks that filthy men shouldn’t taint you with their leers and hungry eyes, their disgusting stares.

Kai may look upon you. Father may look upon you. Kurono may look upon you.

They’re the only the ones.

A soft sigh leaves you and it’s ignored by the men, left to dissipate in the quiet of the hallway. It’s the same hallway you had seen splattered with blood just two days before- now spotless, now unassuming, now without the scarlet gore that pervades your every dream.

Your eyes lower as you walk through the hall and you remind yourself that you are lucky, that you will never meet the grisly fate of being torn asunder by your brother’s quirk.

You are lucky.

Your silent escorts lead you to Kai’s office and then they drift away like ghosts- still without sound, but with a relaxation in their shoulders that you can’t be notice.

It’s a little amusing, almost- you’re certainly not the threat to be feared.

Though, you suppose, it’s the threat of your brother that has them always so, so tense.

A huff escapes from you and you smooth non-existent wrinkles from your dress, raise your hand to knock on a golden, gilded door.

“Nii-san?” you call. “It’s me.”

“Come in.”

A deep breath and a practiced, sweet smile. You open the door to your brother’s office and let it shut behind you, glide over to Kai and press a kiss to his temple.

You’re the only one that can touch him. You’re the only one that can brush your lips along his skin, wrap him in a hug, thread your fingers through his hair.

Lucky. You’re lucky.

“Good morning, nii-san,” you murmur, drifting back around the desk to perch yourself in a chair. You cross your ankles and slide them to the side, smile at him as you fold your hands in your lap. “How are you today?”

“Fine.”

It’s said so dismissively, the word. You’d huff over it- fondly- if you were sure it wouldn’t cause your brother to turn grumpy.

“I’m having a guest over today,” he continues- fingers steepling as he leans back in his seat. You blink at the mention of a guest and your head tilts, curiosity curls through you.

A guest? You wonder who they could be...

“Chrono is going to take you shopping,” Kai informs you. “You won’t be returning until nightfall.”

You blink, again, and press your nails into your hands. Your smile is threatening to grow and you can’t allow that- it’ll make suspicion gather in your brother, unease and distrust.

But, still, the thought of being out of the house for more than a few measly scraps of hours has you lighting up- excited and giddy.

It’s been so long since Kai has allowed you away for more than an hour, two. Yes, you’ll be with a guard- one with sharp eyes and a presence almost as imposing as your big brother- but it’s still such a treat for you.

The curiosity over the guest gets forgotten in a flash and you nod- maybe just a little too enthusiastically- as Kai soaks in your reaction.

“Yes, nii-san,” you practically chirp. “When should I be ready to leave?”

“You have an hour,” he tells you. “Chrono will come get you when it’s time.”

Another nod from you and Kai dismisses you with a wave of his hand. You press a kiss to his cheek and offer him a murmur of “have a nice day” and then you leave the office.

As soon as the door closes behind you, you press a hand to your mouth and stifle a giddy giggle, beam despite the presence of another escort waiting for you just outside the room.

A day out? How lucky.

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“Kurono, do you think nii-san would like this?”

Grey eyes flick to the tie you’re holding up and the man nods- obviously bored, obviously uncaring.

He knows Kai, though, and you trust his judgement as much as you trust your own when it comes to your big brother.

You hand the tie off to the waiting shop attendant and then turn your attention to cuff-links, tie pins. Kurono trails after you- silent, still a little bored- and he watches over you as you pick out little gifts for your brother.

You should be shopping for yourself, you know. But you’ve already picked out dresses, shoes, jewelry, perfume, makeup- you really don’t need any more than you already have. You have more than enough and you know that Kai never has time to shop for himself- you’re happy to pick up a few things for him.

You’re happy in general, actually. It’s a sunny day and the shops are fun, quiet and blessedly without too many people crowding them. Earlier, you had dragged Kurono into a cafe and had giggled your way through coffee as you watched the stoic man slowly eat a jelly filled pastry.

He had almost looked pleased then and it had struck you that Kurono is a handsome man.

A handsome man that will never be allowed to grow close to you. A handsome man that is unworthy of you.

Still, though, he’s one of the very few that Kai trusts without reservation. He’s one of the very few allowed to keep his gaze on you, follow your movements with careful scrutiny.

Which he does- he watches quietly as you shop, watches quietly as you flit to and fro between stores. He gives his opinion whenever you ask if Kai would like this or that and he waits patiently whenever you try on clothes, rakes his grey gaze over you whenever you twirl out of the dressing room. He listens as you comment on the garments and hums when he approves of them, raises a brow when you dare to try on a pair of jeans, a few things that aren’t soft and sweet but brash and sexy.

He doesn’t say anything when you bust out of the dressing room in the clothes you’ve never been allowed to wear and you get to enjoy yourself- giggle and grin as you look over a reflection that seems almost like a completely different person.

It’s fun, it’s nice, and you let yourself play dress up for longer than you should, costume yourself with a lightness in your heart that you can’t ever really remember feeling.

After you’ve tried on the last of the clothes, you begin to sort through them and pick out which ones you want to buy. A few dresses, a sweater and a couple of skirts, a coat you’ll need for winter. Your hands linger on the jeans and you bite your lip as you trail your fingers over denim, feel a quiet sadness swirl through your veins.

“The boss won’t like those.”

The sudden voice has your shoulders jumping and you twist your head back to look at Kurono- bite into your lip deeper when you catch the disapproval in his eyes, the knowing look that he gives you.

Shoulders slumping, you sigh and nod, let him take the jeans from your grasp.

“I know,” you mumble. “I know.”

Kurono nods and you look away from him, turn your attention toward the waiting attendant and offer her one of your well practiced smiles.

“Just these, please,” you tell her. “And can you give me a recommendation for a kimono boutique?”

The woman nods, picking up the clothes, and she begins to chatter away in a soft voice. You only half hear it- smiling and nodding, looking off in a distracted daze- and you swallow whenever you feel your throat constrict, force your smile a bit bigger.

You’ve been able to buy so many nice things today. You’ve been able to shop and enjoy fresh air, wander through a city to your heart’s delight.

You’re lucky.

You’re...you’re lucky.

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“It’s time to go home.”

Already?

You look out the window and find the sky dusky and hewn with purple, orange, dark streaks of blue. The moon is faint in the distance and the streetlights are kicking on, neon is beginning to light up the city.

Nightfall. You suppose you have reached the limit of the day’s freedom.

Quietly, you nod and lay your chopsticks on the plate in front of you, reach for your wine as Kurono waves the waitress over.

You down the wine, the meal gets paid, and then you’re led to the car.

It’s a bittersweet feeling that curls through you as Kurono drives toward your home. You had a wonderful day- a fun day- and you’re thrilled that you got to enjoy it.

That just makes it harder to return home, though, and you’re left sighing softly as buildings and streets pass by in a blur.

It’ll be nice to take a bath and slip into bed, at least- the day was nice but you’re tired from it, made sleepy from a good meal and rich wine.

You’re ready to rest.

When you get home, maids are waiting for you. They gather your shopping bags and listen to your murmured instructions, flit off with their tasks once you’re done. A yawn slips from you as you watch them wander off and a soft, startled noise follows after when you feel the lightest pressure against the middle of your back.

“Inside,” Kurono tells you- eyes meeting yours, his own so impassive as he watches your cheeks flush, your lashes flutter, nervousness gather and grow over your face.

He’s not supposed to touch you. No one is supposed to touch you save for Kai. Hands other than his are filthy and unclean, disgusting and foul.

They’re dirty and impure.

And, now, so are you.

A tremble runs through you and your breath hitches, your very soul quakes. Something burns down low and you have to turn your face away from Kurono, squeeze your eyes shut as your thighs press together.

Filthy. Dirty. Disgusting.

You’re not allowed to feel like this. You’re not allowed to be touched like this- even if it’s so innocent, without any sort of malicious or selfish intent.

Only your brother can touch you. Only...only him...

Kurono nudges you and a whimper catches in your throat, your feet stumble forward.

You should tell Kai- you have to tell Kai. You need to tell Kai.

But then- but then Kurono will be punished and you don’t- you don’t want his blood on your hands. You can’t have his blood on your hands.

Why did he- why did he-

Your heels click over wooden floors as you enter into your home. Kurono trails after you- distance proper, hands to himself- and you try to convince yourself that maybe the touch didn’t happen, that maybe you had just imagined it.

(His hand had been warm. Your brother’s hands are always so cold.)

Kurono only leaves once you get to the bedroom. You’re left to be watched over by your maids then and you burrow yourself in instructing them where to put your new clothes, the new trinkets you had picked up. They lay the things you had picked out for your brother on your bed and you stare at those tokens of affection once they leave.

Something sick pulses through you and you grab your arms, stab perfectly manicured nails into your skin.

“Saiko,” you call out. “Saiko!”

The door opens and your maid scurries in- eyes wide from the harshness of your call, worry all across her face. Guilt snips at you and you flinch, swallow and try to offer her a smile.

“Can you- can you draw a bath?” you ask- voice croaking, laced with a tinge of panic as you try your best not to order the maid you have always tried so hard to be kind to. “And- and can you please fetch a bottle of wine? Red, please...”

“Yes, miss...”

Saiko turns away and then she pauses, looks over her shoulder at you with worry still showing in her puckered brow, her pressed lips.

“Miss,” she asks softly, “are you...alright?”

The question, honestly, startles you a little. No one ever really asks if you’re alright and the concern is touching, has you feeling even more guilty for your near harsh call to her earlier.

You force your smile to grow and you nod- tight, tense, eyes beginning to prickle.

“I’m fine, Saiko,” you reassure her. “It’s...it was just a long day.”

Saiko hesitates but she nods after a moment and then she leaves, then you’re left to sink onto your bed and bury your head in your hands.

You begin to cry in the solitude of your room- shoulders shaking and your insides all twisted up, guilt and panic and a screaming confusion searing through you.

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The water is warm. The bubbles are starting to fade away. The wine bottle is near empty next to the tub.

You take a sip of wine and your head lolls against the rim of the tub, your flushed cheek presses against porcelain. It’s cool despite the heat of the bath- cool like your brother’s hand, cool like the panic that had blossomed in you earlier.

You almost can’t remember the panic from before- not with the haze you’re in, not with the way your mind is so fuzzy and slow.

You can still remember the faint touch of a hand, though, and it makes you shiver, just a bit, makes your lashes flutter.

Warm hands, cold eyes, an uncaring face.

Kurono is so much like your brother...

Another shiver and your legs brush against each other- slip and slide over one another.

A soft sound disrupts the quiet of the room and you blink heavily as your big brother enters into the bathroom.

He looks...tired? Tired but- but pleased? Why is he...

Oh...oh. The guest- maybe that had- maybe that had gone well...

“Nii-san...?”

Kai hums and he draws closer to you, looks over your flushed cheeks and hazy eyes, your soft body barely concealed by the lingering bubbles. His eyes flit to the wine bottle nearby and he huffs, tilts his head as he watches you give another slow, heavy blink.

“Angel...did you have a nice day?”

Angel, angel. He so rarely calls you by that petname. Kai only uses it when he’s in a good mood, only uses it in poisoned softness before he punishes you.

You shudder and your legs rub against each other, a soft noise leaves you as you nod.

“Yes, Kai-nii,” you mumble. “It was...was nice. I...I got you some presents...”

Another hum and he crouches beside the tub. You can smell his cologne now and it’s nice, so nice- clean and strong just like him.

“I saw them,” he tells you, eyes still on you- eyes staring at you with something you can’t quite puzzle out. “Such a good sister I have to think of me while she’s out.”

The praise has your breath hitching, but the touch of his ungloved hand has you mewling- his palm so very cool against your flushed cheek.

“Why are you drinking in the bath?” he asks you.

Your mind doesn’t process the question for a moment- you’re too busy nuzzling into his palm, soaking up the attention as your craving to be touched is fed. You blink whenever you finally comprehend what he had asked and a quiet whine leaves you.

“Because I’m...’cause I’m dirty...”

Golden eyes narrow and you whimper whenever his hand tightens on your face, feel a far off panic start to sound deep within you.

“Dirty?”

You nod, whimpering again, and your lashes wet whenever you blink, you sniffle like a pathetic little thing.

“Dirty,” you whisper. “D-dirty. Filthy.”

Your thighs press together and the water sloshes in the tub, a shudder runs through you as something down low begins to pulse.

You’re rotten.

“And why are you dirty?”

The question is icy, accusing. It has you whimpering again and your fingers curl along the edge of the tub, grip it tight. Even in your drunken state, you know that you can’t be truthful- you know that you can’t tell your big brother of a casual touch.

“Because- because-”

You cut yourself off with a whine and your lashes flutter as the image of a warm hand on your thigh flashes through your mind, you squirm in tub and make the water ripple. Kai’s gaze darts toward those ripples and then roams over your body, fall toward your pressing thighs.

“Ah,” he murmurs, “I see.”

Before you can even blink, his hand is dipping under the water and between your legs, drawing up to cup your silken crux. You mewl, softly, and your hips rock against his hand, your head tilts back with a quiet moan.

A hum sounds from your brother and he thumbs across your slit slowly, watches as your cheeks flush even darker.

“You should have come to me, angel,” he tells you- a finger slipping in and curling.

“Didn’t- oh- didn’t wanna bother you, nii-san,” you mumble- words stumbling, catching on the half life. You really hadn’t wanted to bother him- you hadn’t wanted to go and ruin his day by tattling on his subordinate, hadn’t wanted to face the possibility of death and rebirth staining your hands, your brother’s. “You had- had such a big day...”

“And so did you,” he huffs, another finger dipping into your puffy insides. “Tell me what you did today.”

“Went- went shopping,” you whimper, clenching around his digits, trembling as he continues to grind his thumb over your clit. “I- I got dresses and- and a kimono and- and things for nii-san...”

It ends with a whine- your back arching and your fingers flexing, your head lolling as pleasure starts to blossom within.

“You were thinking of me.”

You nod, chest moving with a tiny pant, and you look up at your brother with a fuzzy, flushed gaze. His face is almost unreadable- eyes still narrowed, mouth hidden by his mask, just the barest tint of pink brushed along his cheeks.

“Y-yes,” you mewl, hips twitching as he curls his fingers deep inside. “W-Was thinking of you...wanted- was thinking what would make nii-san happy...”

If he was another man, Kai might groan from the words. He just breathes deep instead and stuffs another finger inside of you, watches as you gasp and fall apart from his touch.

Under the water, his hand is warm. Feels good, has you imagining things and people that you shouldn’t.

A moan leaves you and Kai grunts as you clench even tighter around his digits, squirm and almost splash him with water. He slips his fingers from you and you whine softly- upset and pleading as you look up at him pouting, trembling lips. He steps away from the tub and you try to follow after him- drunken and heavy, your body squeaking against porcelain.

Kai strips before you- eyes greedily drinking in your need, your trembling form. You bite your lip as his clothes fall to the floor and you whimper as he slides off his mask, reach toward him with a mewl that he huffs over.

“Make room.”

You scramble to comply- water splishing and splashing- and Kai steps into the tub, sinks down and crooks a finger toward you.

It’s a good thing that the tub is so big- that makes it easier to seat yourself on his lap, grind against his hard cock in fumbling, clumsy rocks. You only still once he places a hand to your cheek and you look up at him through heavy lashes, press tight against his palm as you try to keep from collapsing against him.

Kai is...Kai is so handsome. Handsome and sharp and strong and fierce. He’s such a protective brother, so possessive and strict.

But that’s because he loves you. He loves you. Otherwise he wouldn’t do all this, right?

...right?

Kai’s hands fall on your hips and he lifts you, makes you stay on unsteady knees as he lines his cock up with your soaked hole. He puts his hands on your shoulders and he pushes against them, forces you down so his cock can press into your cunt, slip deep inside.

The stretch has you whimpering, keening and tossing your head back. Underneath your noises, you can hear your big brother grunt as you clench around his cock.

When you try to start to ride him, Kai squeezes your waist and forces you back down, smirks as a pleading sob slips from your lips.

You look at him, eyes teary, and Kai cups your face, thumbs along your heated cheeks.

“Such a tight, wet pussy,” he rumbles out. “So warm and wet for nii-san.”

Yes, no. You’re wet for him, wet for-

“Kai...”

He breathes in deep at your whine, grinds his cock up into you and grunts when your nails curl and scratch along his chest. You don’t ride hi though you want to- even if you’re drunk, you know that you can’t disobey your big brother.

“Do you like nii-san filling your dirty pussy with his cock?” Kai asks, thumbs digging into your cheeks when you whimper, sniffle.

Dirty. You’re dirty.

He knows that you’ve been soiled.

A tiny sob slips from you and you nod, clench around him even as fear prickles at your pleasure, threatens it.

“Y-yes! L-like it- love it!”

Something in his expression relaxes- something you can barely see through your teary eyes, your blurry gaze. His lips find your jaw and they travel lower- hands flexing along your waist and teeth nipping at your neck whenever you moan.

“K-Kai-nii...Kai-nii, please...”

You can feel his cock twitch inside of you, can feel his breathing stutter against your throat.

His hips roll in a languid rock and you gasp, tilt your head back as your lashes flutter. Kai’s fingers thread through your hair and he pushes your head forward again, lets your head loll in his hold as he forces you to look at him with a hazy gaze.

“My pretty little angel,” he murmurs, hips continuing their slow, slow roll and eyes taking in your trembling lips. “You know you’re nothing but pure, right? You know you’re the only pure thing in this disgusting world.”

No. No, you’re not. You’ve never been pure. You will never be pure.

No one is. Nothing is.

A whine leaves you and you shake your head- hair pulling taut in his hold, pressing need making your insides flutter even if upset curls through you.

Kai huffs and he pushes your face close to his, has you gasping as molten gold stares through you.

“You’re pure,” he insists in a rumble. “Pristine. Clean. Immaculate.”

Each word drips with praise, is coupled with a thrust of his cock. That has pleasure rising again, that has it eclipsing the upset scattered all through you. You keen and Kai growls, fucks up into you hard and has you collapsing against him, whining.

“So fucking- so fucking pure,” he mutters, hands falling to your hips again and gripping tight as he humps into your cunt. “Only pure thing. Only clean thing. Only- angel!”

It’s too much. You’re too drunk and too wracked with guilt and fear. Your mind is swirling with the pleasure of being fucked and filled by your brother’s cock. It’s hot now in the tub and you’re flushed from head to toe- crying out and squirming as your body races to orgasm.

“F-fuck- Kai!”

A growl and he slams into you- water sloshing out of the tub as brother and sister come together.

The force of it has you dizzy- so dizzy- and you nearly faint as you slump against your brother, as you pant and whimper and tremble.

Kai breathes hard, too- though he’s not as dramatic- and his hand reaches up to card ever steady fingers through your hair.

It’s a blur after that. You’re so soft and sleepy, so fuzzy from it all. You barely notice whenever Kai calls Kurono in and you certainly don’t notice when grey eyes tighten at the sight of your nude body pressed against your brother’s.

It’s nothing new to him. It’s nothing new to any of Kai’s eight bullets.

You nuzzle against your brother as Kurono cleans the water up from the floor and you sigh as Kai lifts you, sits you on the sink. Another bath is ran and your brother scrubs you down, scrubs himself down too.

He scrubs you so hard that your skin almost bleeds, scrubs himself that hard too.

You whimper through it and Kai ignores your pained little noises except to place light kisses to your temple.

You’re soft and relaxed again by the time he ushers you to bed- eyes unable to stay open and body limp in his arms.

You’re laid down on silken sheets- moonlight spilling over your body, sighs of contentment leaving you. Kai’s body is warm whenever he lays next to you and he allows you to curl up close, lets you rest your head on his chest in a way no one else will ever be allowed.

He strokes over your hair as you drift off and your last thoughts are of the cum slowly seeping from you, of eyes flicking from grey to gold, of how lucky you are to still be alive, of how filthy you truly are.

#Anonymous #overhaul x reader #kurono x reader #rooni's shit #tw incest

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fromthedeskofelizabeththird · 4 years

Text

Habanero

You're a good girl, well behaved.

Absolutely not the type to rail random guys in nightclubs.

Until you are.

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Aizawa x Reader, eventual polyamorous Erasermic x Reader

Rating: Explicit. Minors BE GONE

Trigger Warnings: None in this chapter.

AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi

Chapter: 1/16 (all chapters)

“Oh my g-“ You whined, tightening your grip on the sink. “Harder, I’m gonna…”

You caught your reflection in the bathroom mirror as you came undone; took in your smudged makeup and disheveled hair.

Pleasure rippled through you and you moaned into it, pushing yourself back onto the stranger’s dick and taking as much of him in as humanly possible. You could feel every inch of him and he groaned at the feel of you tightening around him.

“Oh f-“ You murmured, holding onto the sink and grinding yourself against your lover in time to the spasms of your body.

You were so overwhelmed by the sensation that you lost all coherency, body acting of its own accord. Your lover sucked in a single breath as he continued to fuck you and you could do little else but stare at your shoes.

You were doing this.

You were doing him . In a bathroom, no less.

How on earth had you gotten yourself into this situation?

━

Whenever you looked back over the course of your life, one detail stood out far more prominently than the others.

You were a good girl.

You had never broken the law, had always adhered to the proper dress code, had never had a filling or broken a bone. You could, and very often did, define yourself by the roads you had never dreamed of taking and the decisions you had never made.

Never was it more obvious than the day you suffered your first real heartbreak.

You had followed the rules carefully; had dressed respectably for every date; had taken care to listen to your boyfriend’s every problem. You’d learned to cook his favorite meal; had faked more orgasms than you could count to feed his ego.

You were sure you would marry that man and had mentally mapped out your next five years. You would have a simple ceremony and a child one year later, then another two years after the first. You’d named them in your imagination and frequently lapsed into daydreams about your future perfect life.

On your fifth anniversary he took you to dinner and you could barely hide your excitement. You knew he had been keeping something from you and you were so sure he was going to propose. You put on your best dress and favourite heels and spent an hour on your makeup and hair. This night was going to be perfect and your stomach fluttered as he reached for your hands across the table.

“(Name),” he said, squeezing your hands in his, “I’ve been thinking about our future.”

“Me too,” you said, squeezing back, willing yourself to hold it together. You wanted this moment to be so perfect and romantic that you would repeat it over and over to your future children and grandchildren. “I’m so happy we’re on the same page.”

“It’s been on my mind for a long time,” he said, smiling softly. “I’ve enjoyed all of our time together, but I think we need to move forwards.”

All you could think about was your future children; the length of their eyelashes and warmth of their hugs. You could almost smell the flowers in your wedding bouquet.

“I just...I think we’ve had a lot of fun together,” he said, “but I’m scared that if we stay like this we’ll fall into a rut. I don’t want to be married with a bunch of kids before I’m forty.”

And just like that, your stomach fell through the floor.

“Wait, w-what are you talking about?”

You snatched your hands from his, heart racing. Was this some sort of joke? You had shopped together for a new mattress only two days before. You glanced around the restaurant, looking for cameras or any sign that this was staged. If it was a prank, it was cruel.

“(Name), it’s not that I don’t love you, it’s just that, well… you’re like...how do I put this…”

He scratched his chin, searching for the right thing to say, even as your eyes filled with tears.

“You’re vanilla,” he said, “you’re safe, and sweet… but we’re still young and I keep thinking that I might want to try habanero or cayenne.”

“You think I’m...boring?” the words left your lips as a whisper and, while his reaction was to instantly reach out to you and apologise, the damage was already done.

“I can be habanero,” you said before you realised it. “I can be whatever you want me to be.”

“I know,” he said, “and that’s the problem.”

━

That night you stood in your shower for almost three quarters of an hour, staring into space as the water soaked you through.

His words circled your brain like vultures.

Vanilla.

He thought you were vanilla. Perhaps the worst part was that you could not disagree.

It haunted your every action for the following week. All you saw when you got ready for work was your simple wardrobe and comfortable shoes.

You were a good girl, mild mannered and meek, and everyone seemed to have noticed before you.

Shock made way for despair. Despair turned to denial and denial quickly turned to anger. You hated your ex boyfriend almost as much as you hated yourself, scouring your apartment for everything he had ever touched.

It didn’t take long for your friends to get worried about you. Normally you were all too busy to constantly check in on the group chat you shared, but since the breakup everyone had something to say.

However kind they might have been to spare your feelings, they genuinely did seem surprised that you had broken up. You had been a couple since your college graduation and one of the only constants in the past few years as everyone’s lives took different directions.

As was to be expected, your friends had multiple different opinions on suitable coping mechanisms. Yuiko came over with food; Hana brought wine. Sayaka called you every evening to trash talk your ex.

Then there was Rei.

Rei was the most boisterous member of your friend group, full to the brim with the kind of self confidence that was obnoxious on other people, yet suited her perfectly. Her reaction to the breakup was not to hand you tissues. She posted exactly one message to the group chat and it had haunted you ever since.

To get over one dude… you gotta get under another ;)

You had known Rei for years and never once taken her advice, but something about that statement stuck with you. You would never have come up with such an idea on your own and it left you blushing a bright scarlet. Rebound sex was not something girls like you did, which was exactly why you had to do it.

“I’ll show you vanilla,” you muttered as you put on another layer of red lipstick and pulled your dress just a little lower to tease the lace of your bra.

━

You met up with your friends at Ego , a nightclub you had heard a great deal about, though never actually gone to. You had never had any reason to; you already had a long term partner and didn’t enjoy the idea of dancing in full view of strange men.

You wondered if you’d made a mistake even as you took a seat at one of the tables.

“Any lookers?”

You glanced around the room, trying to make out faces in the darkness.

“I…” you said. “I…”

You swallowed hard, feeling more than a little overwhelmed.

“I’ll get the next round!”

You thought that by going to fetch another round of drinks, you would be able to catch your breath and avoid drawing copious amounts of attention to yourself. You’d never spent much time at nightclubs, though, and realised your mistake once you got within twenty feet of the bar.

Dozens of people in various states of intoxication crowded it, packed like sardines and all trying to get the attention of the bartender. You took a deep breath and took a step into the crowd, only for someone closer to the front to move and send a wave of movement through everyone else. Someone’s shoulder caught you in the chest, leaving you even further back than you had been before.

Normally you were too polite to even contemplate shoving your way through a crowd, but tonight you weren’t yourself. You took a deep breath and put your weight into your shoulders, pushing against the others as forcefully as you could without actually hurting anyone.

At first you seemed to be making progress, though you soon regretted your decisions. As you got within a few paces of the bar, a guy in front of you slipped, the numerous drinks in his hands heading for your face.

Before they could make contact, however, someone reached for your wrist and yanked you towards the bar, out of the line of fire. The drinks hit other partygoers and they cried out in shock; the glasses shattered as they hit the floor. You, however, remained untouched.

“Th-thank you,” you stammered, turning to your saviour.

He was tall and lanky, with black hair tied back from his face in a ponytail. He wore a black shirt, black pants, black shoes- a complete contrast to the Blue Hawaiian in his hand.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, looking away from you and taking an indifferent sip of his drink.

The bartender was in the middle of clearing the shattered glass from the floor and so you waited in an awkward sort of silence, finally turning back to the man who had saved you.

“You look as happy to be here as I am,” you said. He looked the type to sit in shady bars with three fingers of whisky, not dance with inebriated strangers, which Ego was better known for.

“Wasn’t my decision,” he said. “Someone’s gotta babysit.”

He pointed towards the dancefloor, where a small group of people danced along to the beat. You couldn’t make out most of their faces, except for one, and you were sure your eyes were deceiving you.

“Is that...Present Mic?”

The stranger followed your gaze, to the man with more than a passing resemblance, who was currently wiggling his hips in time to the beat.

“Him? Nah. I don’t know him.”

“But he’s waving to you,” you said, as the man who looked like Present Mic waved his arms over his head and shouted something in your general direction. You couldn’t hear him over the music and the stranger next to you pointedly turned in the opposite direction, taking a long sip of his drink.

You had been so nervous about approaching strangers. Rei had made it seem so easy- merging into a group and catching someone’s eye. You had always had a boyfriend and never possessed the easy confidence of your friends. It was strangely reassuring that speaking to this man came almost naturally.

“My name’s (Name),” you said. “Listen, you really saved me there...this dress is hand wash only.”

“Shouta,” said the stranger. “My name is Shouta.”

“C-can I get you a drink or something? I really owe you one.”

You realised after saying it that he wasn’t even halfway through the drink in his hand.

“You don’t owe me anything,” he said. “It wasn’t anything special.”

He picked the pineapple from his drink and chewed at it thoughtfully.

“Listen,” he said, “I don’t like playing games. What is it you want?”

You were tongue tied, mortified at being caught out so quickly. You fought to keep your composure.

Under ordinary circumstances, you would have stammered some sort of apology or explanation, but tonight you weren’t you and there was no point in denying that you had an ulterior motive.

“Fine,” you said, gathering your nerves. “Do you want to go somewhere more...private?”

You cringed the moment it left your lips, suddenly all too aware of how forward you were being. You couldn’t believe you’d all but thrown yourself at the first guy you saw. What was wrong with you?

He climbed down off the stool he had been sitting on, taking one final sip of his drink.

“Let’s go.”

━

And so it was that you wound up in the nightclub washroom, back against the door and Shouta’s lips on yours.

You had half-heartedly discussed with your friends what to do on the off chance you found someone. You were to post to the group chat with a photograph of you and whoever you left with. You hadn’t expected to leave with anyone, much less decided on where you would go if you did.

You would never have guessed that you would wind up in a washroom, with the door sealed shut behind you. Shouta crushed his lips against yours, one hand pressed against the door, the other on your waist.

Your heart raced, heat rushing through you and pooling in your core.

“Say,” said Shouta, lowering his hand and running a thumb over your lips, “you sure you want this? Right here, right now?”

You moved before you realised what you were doing, opening your mouth and running your tongue over his thumb, looking him dead in the eyes as you wrapped your lips around it.

He hadn’t expected it, but seemed to approve, for he smiled, pulling away and dragging you into another crushing kiss. One hand he positioned above your head; the other grabbed at your clothes, pulling down your dress to expose your bra before heading south.

He lifted your skirt, slipping his fingers into your underwear. You gasped as you felt his hand against your folds, planting your own hand against the door to brace yourself. He caught your eye, tracing a finger around your clit before slowly sinking it deep into you. You reached for his shoulders, hooking one leg around his waist and pushing your lips against his. You pulled him tighter and tighter as he pushed his finger in and out of you, dragging at his shirt and belt.

He squeezed in a second finger and you bucked your hips into his touches.

As if in response, he pulled his fingers out of you and ran them over your clit- the warmth and wetness sending pleasurable shivers down your spine. You had never felt this way before; this man was as good as a stranger, yet you wanted him so very badly. You had never felt this kind of desire before, never known how it felt to have such a growing pressure inside of you.

“Please,” you moaned into his mouth, not knowing exactly what you were begging him for. “Please—-"

“Come here,” Shouta growled, pulling you towards him and then across to the sink. You caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror, unkempt and wide eyed- a complete transformation from when you stepped out of the house.

You watched through the mirror as Shouta unfastened his belt and fly, lowering his pants low enough to give you a clear view of his hardened dick. He was far more muscular than his skinny physique let on, with a deep scar beneath his belly button.

You were trembling from need, squeezing your legs together to try and fill the void his fingers had left. He smirked and walked towards you, taking hold of your hips and slowly, almost torturously slowly, pushing himself into you.

He was bigger than you expected and you gasped at the feel of yourself stretching to accommodate him. He stopped in place, waiting for you to push back against him before pushing in further. At first his pace was slow, inching in only a little at a time, teasing an increasingly sensitive spot deep inside of you.

“Faster,” you whined, digging your nails into your palms at the pressure inside of you. It was overwhelming your every sense, a coil winding tighter and tighter with every touch. “Please...please…”

He slapped your ass and drove in deeper.

This new pace was faster, his hips slamming into yours with such force that it sent you barreling forwards across the sink. You clung on for dear life, taking in the wet sounds as your bodies clashed; Shouta’s groans of pleasure and exertion.

“Oh my g-“ You whined, tightening your grip on the sink. “Harder, I’m gonna…”

You caught your reflection in the bathroom mirror as you came undone; took in your smudged makeup and disheveled hair.

Pleasure rippled through you and you moaned into it, pushing yourself back onto Shouta’s dick and taking as much of him in as humanly possible. You could feel every inch of him and he groaned at the feel of you tightening around him.

“Oh f-“ You murmured, holding onto the sink and grinding yourself against him in time to the spasms of your body.

You were so overwhelmed by the sensation that you lost all coherency, body acting of its own accord. He sucked in a single breath as he continued to fuck you and you could do little else but stare at your shoes.

You were doing this.

You were doing him . In a bathroom, no less.

He gathered your hair with one hand and pulled backwards, arching your back as he fucked you even harder. He was getting close and you could tell; his thrusts were getting erratic and the hand that squeezed your hip was so tight that it left bruises later.

“(Name),” he said, raspiness of his voice betraying his desperation, “where would you like me to...cum”

He groaned and you blushed a bright red.

“In...inside me,” you murmured, the depravity of it all too clear. This was a man you didn’t know; you were risking pregnancy and worse.

In that moment, though, it only added to the appeal.

Shouta pulled you even closer, slowing right down to an almost painfully slow rhythm. He held you in place as he came and gasped for air; the heat of his breath leaving goosebumps against your skin.

You could feel him twitching inside of you, his warmth dripping from you as he pulled out.

You took a deep breath and stood up straight, Shouta letting go of you to pull up his pants. He rinsed his hands under the tap and splashed cold water on his face before grabbing a pile of paper towels.

“I’ll guard the door,” he said, motioning towards the same door he had pinned you against only a short time ago. “Knock when you’re ready.”

“Oh,” you said, watching him leave, “okay.”

For the first time all night, you were alone, the nightclub music in the background your only clue to your surroundings.

You walked towards the sink and took in your bedraggled appearance-bra on full display and cum on your thighs.

You couldn’t believe you were thinking it, but Rei was right. For the first time in weeks you weren’t thinking about the ex. For the first time in years you weren’t thinking about anything.

Habanero, you thought as you switched on the tap.

This was how it felt to be habanero.

━

6 Months Later

You were still a good girl.

That said, you no longer followed the safe roads. Not so long ago, you believed that your breakup was the end of everything, but it had actually been a new beginning.

Two months after the night at Ego , you cut your hair and quit your job. You had been there since graduation and your colleagues were more than a little desperate for you to stay. You had taken on the workload of about seven of eight people while earning only a pittance for a salary.

You had a new job now; something fresh and exciting and challenging to boot. It made you nervous, but that feeling only spurred you on.

You’d never been to UA before and it was much bigger in person. You could already tell you were going to get lost and found yourself grateful that the Principal had taken it upon himself to show you around.

“These are the first year homerooms,” he said, pointing out the doors on your left and right. “1-A and 1-B. I hope you pardon my presumptuousness, but I thought it might be useful to have you shadow one of our homeroom teachers for a couple of hours...get a feel for our curriculum and the kinds of students you’ll be working with.”

“That would be wonderful,” you said, eager to take notes.

“Wait here,” said Principal Nezu, “I’ll be right back.”

He knocked on one of the doors and stepped inside, presumably to fetch the teacher.

When he returned, it took everything in your power to stop your jaw from hitting the floor.

It was him, and he was just as shocked to see you.

“Professor Aizawa,” said Principal Nezu, “this is (Name), our new guidance counsellor.”

He glanced from you to Shouta, taking in your identical expressions.

“Oh… do you know one another?”

#aizawa x reader #eraserhead x reader #aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #boku no hero academia #habanero

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potatocrab · 4 years

Text

steady

Butch takes Rosie out on their first date in Megaton, more than month after he initially asked her. Better late than never.

Butch DeLoria x Rosie Sheridan (Lone Wanderer)

2616 words | [read on Ao3]

Butch must’ve checked his reflection in the cracked mirror a dozen times, restyling his hair until every stray, black strand was perfectly in place. He’d inspected his teeth, breathing into his palm and wincing when he smelled nicotine and that morning’s breakfast. Good thing he’d swiped all those hygiene products when he left Vault 101—better for his breath to smell like artificial mint than stale cigarettes and cram. A little bit of toothpaste and a quick rinse and he was good to go—well, not before a generous spritz from his trusty bottle of cologne.

Then came his appearance, wondering if his clothes were presentable enough. He’d found the cleanest shirt from his duffle bag of clothes, tucked it into a pair of jeans that were relatively free of wasteland grime, and swapped his combat boots for a pair of sneakers instead. With his Tunnel Snakes jacket, he looked and felt like his usual self—he wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good or bad thing, given the occasion. Butch didn’t know why he was so nervous, in his head about that evening—it was just a date. He’d been on plenty before in the vault, where else would he have gotten his reputation as a ladies’ man? Okay—that was definitely not a good thing, not anymore, not when he was trying to go steady with one lady in particular. Tonight wasn’t just a date—it was the date—his first date with Rosie.

Butch would’ve taken her on one earlier but hadn’t found the nerve to ask until after they’d kissed. Well, after she dared him to kiss her, which he eagerly obliged to. Kissing was one thing but asking Rosie on a date was another—lucky for him, she agreed. Unlucky for him, they were constantly sidetracked, the Lone Wanderer needed on important missions for the Brotherhood and other wasteland factions. As long as he was at her side, Butch didn’t mind, and if Rosie was happy, so was he. It wasn’t until they put a label on it that she shyly reminded him he owed her a date. That’s when he started his planning—anything for his best gal.

The sun was just setting when he arrived at Craterside Supply, pausing outside the door to adjust his jacket and hair one last time before entering the shop. Inside, Moira and her mercenary were in the middle of a one-sided conversation, the red-head excitedly talking about robots and how to reprogram them. As soon as she noticed Butch, she widened her eyes, clapping her hands together.

“Oh, Butchie, you’re here!” she exclaimed with a grin.

He didn’t mind that Moira called her by the same nickname his ma used to use, though he was sure that if any other woman tried, he’d have more of a visceral reaction. There was something endearing about the shopkeeper, even if her voice grated his ears sometimes, she was Rosie’s closest friend. He tried to mimic her enthusiasm, though he was preoccupied with scanning the room. Moira noticed.

“She’s upstairs getting ready,” she explained before leaning over the counter. “Rosie, my sweet potato! Your lil’ cutie-pie date is here!”

Whatever awkwardness he felt was brief as Butch smiled, listening to the scrambling along the upstairs rafters—was that a hushed curse? —before Rosie appeared along the railing, bright-eyed and breathtaking. She was wearing a baby-blue dress he hadn’t seen before with the same saddle-shoes she always had—mole-rats would fly before she’d ever wear heels. She’d pinned back her long dark hair on both sides with bobby pins, and—were those new glasses? Butch was so fixated on her face that he didn’t realize she’d moved downstairs until she was standing in front of him, wringing her hands together, looking just as anxious as he felt.

He smiled at her, pushing back his nerves as he stepped closer to her. “Hey girlfriend.”

As expected, the term only made her cheeks flush with color even as she kept her eyes focused on his face. “Hey…boyfriend.”

Rosie was too damn cute without even trying and it drove Butch crazy—in all the best ways. He leaned forward, thinking he could steal a quick kiss when two arms came flying between them, one hand landing firm against his chest to push him back several inches.

“Oh no you don’t!” Moira voiced, sternly. Despite the fact she couldn’t be more than a few years older than the two, she preferred to act like some kind of zany mother figure, always wanting to look out for their best interests. Even if that also meant sending them out into the Capital Wasteland on ‘scientific endeavors.’ For science!

“That’s reserved for the end of the night!” she instructed, waving her finger at him. Moira’s expression quickly shifted, eyebrows knitting together. “On second thought, no kissing on the first date!”

Butch stifled back a snicker, thinking about all the fooling around the two had been up to in the last month. Nothing serious, nothing too heated or nefarious, but there’d been more than enough heavy petting and make-out sessions that a finger wag didn’t scare him. “You know that we’ve—”

Rosie reached her hand out to snatch his, giving it a proper pinch that had him yelping into a laugh. She eyed the door. “Should we go?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, moving to wrap his arm around her shoulder. “Let’s go, Rosie baby.”

When Butch and Rosie first got back to Megaton, he’d started working on an extravagant date fitting for his best gal. After all, he had a lot of lost time to make up for—all the weeks, or months he’d been skirting around how he truly felt about her before finally making a move…or maybe it went years beyond that. Maybe if he hadn’t been so blind or stupid in his youth to notice the girl of his dreams was right there in front of him all along. Took her father’s death and a vault uprising to bring them together in an uncertain world. But that’s what they were now—together. Of course Rosie deserved the best, even if Butch was limited with resources in the Wasteland. Not a lot a young couple could do in one small town, and he wasn’t about to risk taking her outside the gates. Well, they could leave, but then it would just end up like any other evening, with the two on some kind of shooting spree with raiders or ghouls. Not exactly romantic.

All that anxiety from before was returning, making him second-guess the planned itinerary. What if Rosie thought he was trying too hard, thought he was a square? He pegged her for a gushy romance type, with all those novels she read (yeah, he’d snuck a peek) and he wanted to impress her, even if it wasn’t his usual shtick. The nerves tightened into a ball in the pit of his stomach when he thought about other, lingering fears. He glanced over his shoulder, half expecting the ghostly specter of Rosie’s dad to jump out and voice his disapproval.

“Butch?”

He turned his head back to find her looking at him with a mix of concern and confusion, brows furrowed together. Not wanting to worry her, he pressed a quick peck to her cheek—not like Moira could see them now. Rosie instantly brightened, smiling as he tightened his grip around her shoulders.

“Come on,” he nodded his chin, gesturing towards the town’s crater. “Leo saved a table for us at the Lantern.”

Rosie continued to smile in her little way, letting him lead the way down the ramps to Megaton’s only restaurant. Well, the only place to get a reputable meal—Butch wouldn’t dare to take her to Moriarty’s and risk food or radiation poisoning. He upped the gentleman factor, opening the door for her with a cheeky grin before rushing ahead to pull out her chair at their reserved table.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” she remarked.

He sat down across from her and chuckled. “Not with the Butch-man it ain’t.”

As soon as Leo Stahl noticed the two sitting in the private corner of the Brass Lantern, he was quick to bring them two bowls of freshly prepared noodles with a couple bottles of ice-cold Nuka-Cola. She flashed a polite smile, and while Butch hungrily dug in, she took slow, careful bites. Though, after a few moments, they both shared similar squeamish expressions, Rosie raising a hand to cover her mouth as she hid her nausea.

Butch poked at the mush of food they’d been prepared. Maybe they’d would’ve been better off at the dive bar after all. “The hell is in this?”

“Even you could’ve made something better,” she laughed behind her hand—at least she wasn’t completely disgusted, or disappointed.

“Yeah, yeah,” he agreed, washing away the taste with a swig of cola. “Whole point was getting’ out,” he frowned, struggling to meet her curious gaze. “Sucks those pre-war drive-ins aren’t around, ya’ know I swiped some holoreels from the vault just in case.”

“What didn’t you take?” she asked in a teasing manner. Though, he could tell she was delighted by that last tidbit of information. He always knew she was a movie buff, even if she tried to hide it with her love of the written word. Now, if only he could get his hands on a projector, the possibilities for movie-dates were endless.

Butch sighed, thinking about his stash of Vault-Tech goods. “The good food rations,” he lamented.

“Well…” Rosie paused to drink some of her own Nuka-Cola. “Next time, maybe we should avoid the noodles.”

Next time. At least there was the hopeful promise of a future date. Butch grinned, and relaxed in his chair, comfortable to sit in the amicable silence, just looking across the table at her bright expression. His pride swelled, knowing he was the cause—good—if he had it his way, she’d never stop smiling. When their drinks were empty, he placed a handful of caps on the tabletop to cover the cost of their barely eaten meal before jutting his thumb over his shoulder.

“Let’s blow this joint.”

Outside, Rosie lingered near the neon string of lights, hugging herself as a chill passed through the air. Butch didn’t hesitate to shrug off his Tunnel Snakes jacket, surprising her as he draped it across her shoulders. She initially resisted, raising her arms to push the fabric away, but he continued to wrap it around her slim body until she was practically drowning in black leather. No wonder she never wore the first one he gave her.

Rosie adjusted it around herself, clutching the front lapels in one hand before realizing he was staring at her with a sideways smirk. A blush creeped up her neck and her eyes darted away from his. “W—what?”

Butch reached out to grab her free hand, yanking her close. Still, he looked her over, eyes dancing across her face and body. “Ya’ look cute in that.”

He didn’t think her cheeks could get any brighter. She tilted her head a little so she could get a better look at him, the blue of her eyes sparkling under the lantern lights of the restaurant. She seemed equal parts nervous and excited. “Where to next?”

Fingers laced, Butch walked them back through the city ramps, up to the highest point in Megaton where you could see the landscape of the Capital Wasteland and a perfect view of the stars above. Rosie quickly steadied herself against the railing as she looked up at the nighttime sky, smile instantly widening.

“I found all these books on space, stars and the moon the last time we were in DC, at one of the Museums,” she started, raising one hand to point up at a grouping of sparkles in the sky. “I’ve been learning about constellations and ancient civilizations beliefs on something called astrology.”

He positioned himself behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist as she talked, more than she ever had in recent months about anything. At least in a positive, excited manner. Butch couldn’t help but listen, drawn in by the radiant and rare woman he was seeing, as if for the first time. He rested his chin on her shoulder, closing his eyes as she continued to sweetly chatter about the great unknown.

“That line of stars makes up something called the great dipper and those lines make up the cancer constellation, which apparently, correlates to by birthday, and—” she suddenly cut off. Butch peeked open his eyes to find her cheeks were dusted pink. “Oh—I’m rambling.”

He nuzzled his nose against her ear, very much tempted to kiss the exposed patch of skin along her neck. Instead, he hugged her close, mumbling sweet nothings into hair. “Yer adorable, talkin’ about this stuff.”

“R—really?”

Like she needed to be surprised. That time, he pressed a kiss to her temple. Two-for-two. Moira wasn’t going to be happy. “Yeah, Rosie baby,” Butch reassured. “Don’t you know by now I like it when yer all nerdy? You and your big, sexy brain.”

Rosie leaned back into his embrace, head tilted back as she dissolved into a fit of giggles. It was music to his ears, and he couldn’t help but match her laughter, warm with her wrapped up in his arms.

“I don’t think,” she paused to compose herself, turning around to face him. “Nobody’s called me—my brain that before.”

“Yeah well,” Butch shrugged, tightening his grip around her so she couldn’t slip away. He was entranced by the brightness of the blue in her eyes, the shimmer of the stars in the reflection of her glasses. “It’s true.”

She didn’t say anything in return for a long moment, just staring back in a certain kind of wonderment. Finally, she shifted, shivering even as she smiled. “Walk me home?” she asked, quietly.

Butch nodded, adjusting his jacket around her shoulders before lacing their hands again. It was a short walk back to her Megaton home—even if he had a room in the residence, he struggled to call the place theirs. Rosie glanced over to him as their steps slowed outside the structure.

“Unconventional for a first date, considering we live together,” she nervously laughed.

He shrugged. “I can stay somewhere else, if we wanna play into it.”

Rosie shook her head, and a new silence settled over them as they stood there outside the front door just staring at each other expectantly, still holding hands. Butch’s mind blanked, and all the cool confidence he’d gathered throughout the evening fled his body as he forgot all the planning and perfect ways to end the evening.

She flashed him a nervous smile. “You—You aren’t going to give me a kiss goodnight?”

“What?” he blinked himself back into the moment and immediately stepped forward, simultaneously pulling her towards him. He raised his free hand to cup her cheek and grinned. “Course I’m gonna kiss ya’”

Rosie was already beaming. “Oh, good—”

He cut her off with a sweet kiss—nothing overly passionate despite the itching desire to completely ravage her right there against the door. Butch broke away with a sigh and gave her hand an affectionate squeeze.

She looked at him skeptically. “You aren’t really going to stay somewhere else tonight, right?”

“Not if you don’t want me to,” he answered, resisting the urge to laugh.

Rosie was quick to pull him back so he was close, lips hovering over hers. She reached back with her other hand for the front door. “Good—I’m not done kissing you yet.”

#fallout 3 #butch deloria #butch deloria x f!lone wanderer #rosie sheridan #otp: it's just a flesh wound #fanfic #babies' first date #'big sexy brain' is the best flirt line #hey look I finally wrote something

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for-ests · 5 years

Text

Falling For You- Tom Holland x Reader (Part 2)

Part 1

Word count: 4, 073

Warnings: None

✭♡✭♡✭♡✭

Tom scanned the park for you, feeling his nerves grow with each passing moment. What will you think of him now? Did you still like him?

He sighed loudly as he watched the cars pass by. Your bewitching smile refused to leave his head.

He had been nervous all day, knowing that deep inside, he needed you more than ever. You were more beautiful than he remembered, your maturity radiant and refutable. How did he miss the potential you promised?

This date was impulsive. But Tom couldn't deny how long he'd been waiting to see you again. With how much he had missed you, the only cure was to try and mend things.

If only he had been more courageous back then. If only... if only.

He never got the chance to tell you how he felt back then. And now, the young man was starting to second guess himself. His heels began to ache from standing in an awkward position for too long, eyebrows narrowing as he wondered if you would appreciate what he had planned out.

Tom was too shy, too self-conscious. But thankfully, his trip to America had settled those conflicting thoughts. He was now a different person on the inside and the outside. More confident, physically, and mentally.

He had worked so hard to improve his acting skills; with hard work came success. He'd been working out regularly for months now, and his body was starting to sculpt into the complexion he'd always dreamed of having. Now, all that was missing was a woman by his side. Tom may have changed his appearance, but he was still the same softie his parents had raised him to be. He still cared for his home, his family, and his friends. That would never change, no matter how famous he got.

Just like his feelings for you. He had hoped and prayed they would go away in time, but they kept growing stronger. When he saw your face last night in the pub, it all came crashing down like a tidal wave.

He remembered your tenderhearted ways, how you had always been there for him even when he didn't deserve it. He was too childish to realize it then, but he was deeply in love with you and didn't know how to deal with it. Tom had not been ready, even if he desperately wanted to be.

He could tell the same realization happened to you. It was evident in your eyes, in your reserved yet hopeful body language, and in the slight blush that crept along your cheeks every time he uttered your name.

The passion was still there. It had to have been, or else you wouldn't have said yes.

Tom leaned against the chain-linked fence, glancing back every once in a while just to see if you had arrived.

He wanted to see you so badly. The anxiety was killing him. What if you didn't show up? The anxious boy grimaced. That would be reasonable. That's essentially what he did to you. He left without saying goodbye.

He felt so much better about himself now, but that didn't mean you would take him back. What if you secretly hated him? The romantic side of him that he had saved for you was just waiting to emerge, begging and grasping for attention.

It was starting to cloud his consciousness.

Tom exhaled deeply and scrolled through his Instagram feed, reading a few recent comments that fueled his ego. He had about 200k, which was good for an amateur actor who hadn't landed any starring roles. A small fan base was better than nothing, and all of this newfound attention was from his own hard work and dedication.

But he was getting there, his dream role was a few weeks away. That audition would mean everything, but for now, he needed someone to help take his mind off things. You were the perfect person to do so. The person who always did, back before all of this started. Even before he was able to pursue his dream. The thought of losing you permanently had always scared him, so much so that he wasn’t able to form a proper goodbye. One that caused all this pain to begin with.

Tom hadn't seen you in ages, and you looked better than ever. If he'd fancied you back then, he couldn't even imagine what he would do for you now. His heart began to beat faster at the thought. It was scary, as he realized he might possibly do anything.

"Tom?" Your voice snapped through the silence, everything else becoming mere background noise.

He lifted his head and almost melted right then and there.

Your hair drifted so peacefully in the evening breeze, seeming to light up the entire atmosphere. You smiled shyly at him and tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear. "What's up?" You greeted, sighing deeply as your breath misted into the air. Your cheeks were starting to redden from the chill, but you didn't seem to mind.

You looked just as nervous as him. Possibly distracted by your own thoughts.

Tom hadn't really thought it through when he asked if you wanted to take an evening walk. But when was London ever a comfortable temperature?

"I promise we won't be out in the cold too long." He chuckled, shoving his hands in his pockets from the brisk air. "I just wanted to take you one place."

Dismissing his statement, your eyes focused on his hands. You started to rummage through your purse. "Do you want mittens? I have an extra pair."

"S-sure." He said between shivers, graciously taking up on your offer. Tom took his hands out of his pockets and slipped the warm fabric on. "Thank you."

He's always appreciated how prepared you were. He knew you had prepared yourself for heartbreak, even if you did not show it. Only someone with a genuine and kind heart would be so bold. You were there to hear him out.

Because last night, even drunk, Tom could see the look in your eyes. There was a longing you held that he was unable to notice before.

"It's no problem." Your nose crinkled in the most adorable way as you smiled. "Now, we can hold hands."

The last part came out as a whisper as if you were unsure of your own rash actions. Regardless though, you followed through, grasping his hand tightly.

Without blatantly making your intentions known, he had gathered the hint. You were willing to try and make things right. That was all he could have asked for.

Tom noticed you had become surprisingly cheerful. Knowing you all too well, he understood that your cheerfulness was a way to protect yourself, a facade of sorts.

Embarrassed, Tom glanced away briefly. If he failed to win your heart back on this date, things between the two of you would no longer exist. The young man knew he couldn't deal with that. You were far too important.

"Ohhh." He laughed, intertwining his coated fingers with yours. "I'm the one who's supposed to make the moves, not you darling."

You leaned against him and tittered, feeling more confident with Tom's true intentions. You had already surpassed your high school awkwardness in less than five minutes. It had taken you and him three years to get this close back in the day.

But you were different, and so was he.

Breathing deeply, you discarded those thoughts. You glanced up, and the cold that had previously surrounded you disappeared when you looked into his eyes. "Where to?"

Tom squeezed your hand firmly, his entire body warming at the sight of you so content by his presence. "You'll see, I think you'll like it."

✭♡✭♡✭♡✭

You tried your best not to laugh as Tom guided you down the rocky and secluded path. You could hear each step you took, the snow crunching underneath your weight. The snow threatened to push over the hemlines of your socks, but you persisted farther.

To you, the entire situation was comical. The sun had begun to finally set, and you were slowly hiking through a forest with a man you had once known in grade school. A branch brushed against your jacket as Tom slowly but surely helped you through the forest.

You did not need the help but you knew how proper Tom was. And because of it, you were able to cling to him longer than necessary.

"Where in the world are you taking me?" You ventured to ask, already knowing he wouldn't give you the answer. You found this quite the adventure for a first date and reunion. The place he was leading you to seemed familiar, but in a way, you could not describe. The landscape had been cast into shadows, yet the atmosphere was one you found yourself resonating with. Nostalgic vibes from deep within your soul, masked under the guise between good and evil.

"Shh!" A deep chuckle followed shortly after you stepped over a fallen tree, it was hardly visible. "Almost there." He spoke without looking behind him. The two of you were completely alone, and that thought made you excited.

You were quiet after that, but your grin stayed constant- your true feelings unable to remain hidden. The little things he did made you feel special. Tom could make your heart flutter with just one glance.

Tom’s hat was covering the hair you adored, but his curls were poking out slightly. You wondered if he still hated them, even though all the girls used to swoon over his locks. Unbeknownst to him, you had engaged in that endless dialogue.

Keeping your eyes focused on the back of his head, you almost didn't realize that you had come to an opening. A large boulder was placed in the middle. It was big enough to seat a few people comfortably.

It took you a moment to remember its significance. But as soon as you did, a blush appeared on your cheeks. Tom thought it was adorable.

"The kissing rock?" You squeaked.

"You were my first kiss." He reminded, turning to you with a shy smile, reflecting on the more awkward moments of your relationship. Though sometimes unbearable to think about, bittersweet they remained.

You blushed at the memory. You both had your first kisses with each other one night when you and all your friends decided to play seven minutes in heaven. A freshmen year hangout circle that sometimes pressured you to partake in activities you wouldn't typically have.

At fifteen years old, your heart began to pound loudly in your chest. Watching the lone beer bottle land on your best friend and crush caused your eyes to go wide. Admittingly, you had hoped that you might be able to kiss him, but now that it was happening, your anxiety spiraled until you were unable to move.

"Uhm-i-" You stuttered, open-mouthed. You were only brought back to reality by a flood of teasing and laughter. Your girlfriends knew how infatuated you were with him. Yet they also knew how shy you were. An interaction like this would never happen in any other scenario.

Your best friend cheered you on with a smirk of approval.

"Let's go then." Tom eagerly stood up, watching your cheeks grow noticeably red. He tried to usher you into the room and away from the gaze of all your so-called friends.

Once the closet door closed, you exhaled roughly. You'd never kissed anyone before, and Tom knew that. What if he was grossed out by you in this way? Would you be able to keep your mouth shut?

"Well, my friends say you have a crush on me." He whispered, leaning as nonchalantly against the wall as he could. Even through your own sheepishness, you could sense his nerves. "So we can kiss if you'd like to."

An excellent proposal indeed, but the fact of any boy being aware of your true feelings sent your sense into a frenzy. How could they possibly know you were in love with your best friend?

"If you want to." You bit your lip, glancing away.

A short, goofy, and inexperienced Tommy spoke under his breath. "I've always wanted to."

"Okay." You said, sitting up a little straighter. You didn't know what else to do. Weren't the guys supposed to lean in? Were you supposed to keep your eyes open?

Tom moved towards you, testing the waters by setting one hand on your shoulder and tucking the other by the low of your back. His touch was shocking in this way, and your teenage brain was desperately trying to sort through the motions.

Naturally, and almost perfectly, he leaned in. Your lips touched hesitantly at first but then pressed hard once the two of you were able to kiss with closed eyes. You gripped him suddenly as the kiss escalated. You weren't ready for that, though part of you wanted to continue.

"Someone might see, Tommy."

Tom pulled away, trying hard not to grin.

"Then, we pretended like nothing happened."

"Yeah." He scratched the back of his neck, awkwardly. "Then you started dating Jerry."

"Fucking Jerry." You chuckled heartily. "What a bloke."

"Yeah." He smiled, biting his lip as he noticed your anxious expression. You didn't seem to be as excited as he thought you would be. Maybe you didn't have any good memories here? Tom pondered on your high school relationships. He'd never kissed anyone here back in the day, but he had heard great things from his mates.

Most serious couples in your high school had kissed here after school. It might be cheesy, but he wanted to kiss you here. He always had. If you shared terrible memories with this place, he wanted to try and make a good one.

Tom thought that making this relation would cheer you up. Nostalgia was a fitting cure when times were low, especially when you had been away from home for years.

"Follow me." He urged, taking your hand in his, and pulling you towards the rock.

Your hesitation soon faded as your hands intertwined again. This wasn't what happened back then. It was different, Tom was here with you, and you were adults now.

Smirking to yourself, you shook your head. You two were alone, you were adults, and you had feelings for each other. Right? So why were you so afraid?

Taking this leap would mean there was no turning back. Whatever happened tonight would determine your entire relationship with him.

“Y/N?” He chuckled, waving his hand in your face. You had zoned out for a moment.

“Sorry,” You laughed with him, smacking his hand away from your face in a teasing manner.

Tom helped you climb up the boulder, his hands resting firmly on your waist to hoist you up. You blushed at the contact, knowing he was gripping lower than he needed to. Chills were sent up your spine as his warmth moved elsewhere.

Once you had gotten on top of the rock, you turned around to give him support, only to find he was already sitting next to you. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head lightly. "I see you're more athletic now."

He scooted next to you, a cheeky grin upon his lips. "I'm only trying to show off, you know that, right?"

Your eyes darted in the opposite direction, trying to keep your eyes focused on the long stretch of forest. Tom was much more blunt, much more confident. The old Tom would have never been so straightforward. And as much as it embarrassed you, you loved it.

You turned back to him once the burning sensation in your stomach died down. "You're going to have to do more than that." You teased, becoming aware of how close you were. His lips were just inches away, and he was starting to seem irresistible.

Tom noticed it too. His urges growing stronger as he watched your tongue run smoothly across your lips. The action made them glossy and far more kissable. Were you waiting for him to do it?

After a moment of searching for an answer in your expression, he started to lean in. He closed his eyes and went for the kiss. Tom could feel his heart racing, he had wanted to do this so badly, and it needed to be perfect. He had to make up for the years he had failed to make you his. Maybe it was for the best, but the time you had spent apart had only caused both of you pain.

If that was not a sign, Tom couldn't fathom what would be. Everything about you felt right. Everything about you, he loved. It was about time he was brave enough to come forth and admit it.

And perfect it was. As soon as your lips touched, he felt his emotions ignite in a peaceful yet passionate blaze that he had never felt before.

You shivered from the contact, knowing that if you were standing, your knees would have buckled. Being there with him, like that, was everything you had ever dreamed it would be.

You kissed him back, deepening the kiss and asking for more. You were in love with him, and he didn't even know it. Maybe this was your last chance to show him, perhaps this moment with him was all you had left.

"Tommy--" You gasped against his lips, literally melting into his warm embrace. His hand brushed against your cheek, guiding you closer with a gentle touch. The second kiss was wet, much sloppier than the first. Your emotions were poured into every movement, your skin aflame and senses alive.

More. I need more.

The way you moaned his name encouraged him to take a step forward and pull you closer. He had waited so long to do this, and he never thought he would be able to. That's why this was so special. He was getting a second chance with the love of his life.

The kisses intensified, and your lips parted, inviting him for more. Practically begging for it.

Your lips began to move in sync, the kisses turning sloppy, filling with hunger and need from all the time you had spent apart. From all the years of denying your love.

Tom's hands began to wander, feeling you up and down from all the angles you had always imagined he would explore. You let him readily, relishing in his praise, becoming drunk on the sensation his lips gave you. You wanted more, you needed more.

You held his face in your mitten-covered hands, kissing him tenderly as you moved to sit on his lap. The contact caused Tom to groan, his arms looping around your waist and holding you as close as he could through the thick clothes you were wearing.

He wanted to feel your skin against his. He knew this wasn't enough to satisfy the passion building up inside him. You were too tempting and always had been. Tom knew you were innocent, and that's what made you so much more alluring. You were waiting to become his, and now was finally the right time.

The two of you pulled apart briefly to catch your breath. Tom tilted his head back to gaze at you. Your cheeks were flushed, but it might of been from the cold. Your expression was sheepish, but not ashamed. And your eyes... man, your eyes seemed to promise him treasures he could only dream of.

"I've been waiting so long to do that." Tom managed to string together a full sentence. It was true, and he has been repeating that to himself for the past two years.

You hastily glanced away. "M-me too." You whispered, acting as if you still did not believe it happened.

Wishing for it to continue, but knowing you had to stop before things got too heated, you crawled off his lap and sighed. You couldn't stop smiling.

"I really fancy you." Tom blurted, eyes widening at the realization of what he said. "If you couldn't tell..." He added, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. That's what he did in embarrassing situations.

"I figured that out when I saw the rock." You blushed. "I remember you saying that you wanted to bring your future girlfriend here."

He couldn't believe you would remember something like that. It made him feel warm inside, a fluffy, and respectful kind. That must mean that you felt the same, or at least you did. It made him sad to think that you liked him back in high school. Hearing him say something like that must have broken your heart.

"I guess that wish came true," Tom said.

Your eyes widened. What did that mean?

"I want to be with you, Y/N." He whispered, all the presumptions of his youth fading away with just one sentence. Now, he seemed like a man. A man who was able to admit, and make sense of his decade-long feelings.

You could not find the words to speak, your mind analyzing all the possibilities of what that could mean.

"I really hope you know how sorry I am for leaving you." The words came out in a flood, and Tom's composure crumbled in front of your eyes. "When I saw you yesterday, I realized how much I hurt you. You don't deserve that Y/N." He took a deep, shaky breath. "I hope you can give me another chance to make things right... and to possibly be more than friends."

You were deeply pained from his tone and the way his voice faltered when thinking of the past.

"Tommy, it's okay. I understand." You smiled sadly, wrapping your arms back around the boy. You didn't want him to feel bad about it. Though both of you had suffered, there was no going back to fix it. The time apart, though excruciating on bad terms, helped bring you back together. Being away from him for the first time, helped you realize how special he really was to you. He wasn't just your best friend. He was not just a crush. He was the love of your life.

Tilting your head, you pressed a chaste kiss to his chilled cheeks.

It's not like you had confessed to him before, or made your feelings known. You were both oblivious about your feelings. But why did he leave without saying goodbye all those years ago?

Tom could tell what you were thinking by the grief-stricken look on your face.

"I left without saying goodbye because I knew I couldn't face you. I was afraid to confirm my love for you, Y/N..." He hugged you back, burying his head in the crook of your neck. You smelled as amazing as he remembered, your warmth engulfing him in comfort no other woman could. You were what he had always been craving, and you were always right in front of him.

"Love?" You whispered astonishingly, picking up on the word as he breathed its existence.

Tom pulled away, nodding slowly.

"You love me?" You gasped, tears starting to gather at your eyelids. The fear of your feelings blossoming further in a one-sided relationship faded. It was going to be okay.

"I love you." He confirmed, all his nerves vanishing as your expression beamed brightly back at him. For a moment, silence consumed you. Before you could think further, tears gathered in the corners of your eyes. Reaching your sleeve up, you quickly wiped them away.

"I love you too." You choked out, the words feeling so good on your lips. So right to say and express. "I always have..." You admitted, eyes flickering away as you said it. "I was too afraid to tell you, and it killed me."

"But I'm here now, I've realized my mistake," Tom assured, pulling you into his chest and squeezing you tight. He couldn't believe how stupid he was back then to leave someone like you behind. You were meant to be together, you had to be. There had never been anyone else that had come close.

He wasn't going to let you slip away again.

"Come back to my place," Tom commanded more than he asked. The cold was starting to become unbearable, now that the passionate heat that sparked between you had calmed.

"I want to show you how much you really mean to me."

#tom holland x reader #peter parker x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland

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snazzy-suit · 5 years

Text

Hotel Boss Ghost Headcanons - Part 3

Part 1 - Part 2 - (Part 3)

What’s that? You want...MORE headcanons? Oh geez, I hope you’re sure about that

===

Not much is known about Ug (honestly, that’s probably not even his name) other than he came from a tribe of hunter-gatherers. It is during one of his hunts that he meets his end. Ug and his fellow tribesmen were tracking a herd of mammoths on that fateful day. They eventually caught up to the herd, and just when they were about to ambush their target, a Tyrannosaurus-Rex came barreling onto the scene. It wasn’t the apex predator that brought about Ug's demise, however (not directly, anyway). The mammoths panicked and fled their hunter, causing a stampede. Ug, unable to get out of the way in time, was trampled in the chaos.

Other Headcanons

Ug is not the oldest ghost in the hotel (in terms of when they died). Dinosaurs aren't extinct in the Mario-verse, so I don’t think it’s a stretch to say there are neanderthal-esque humanoids that also still exist in modern times.

Ug lived in a part of the world that seems frozen in time—a place housing ancient creatures from eras long past that, in our world, would have never interacted. Dinosaurs, mammoths, sabretooth tigers, neanderthals, etc.

Clem

Clem was a contract mechanic that worked for some of the largest corporations of his day. He was a hard worker that completed his jobs quickly, efficiently, and without a fuss. Clem was satisfied with his lot in life. He went with the flow and never complained, though he really should have done the latter. Clem was often subjected to the most unsafe work environments imaginable—conditions that would give OSHA inspectors a stroke if they were privy to it—but he never said a word. Whether his silence was from fear of having his contract terminated or not really knowing any better is up for debate. Whatever his reasons, Clem's career ended in tragedy when an on-the-job accident eventually took his life.

Other Headcanons

Clem’s work ethic took a turn for the lazy in death. But after the way he was taken advantage of in life, who can blame him?

Serpci

Serpci was born during a troubling time in her kingdom’s history. The neighboring lands were experiencing horrible drought, and tensions were rising as water became more and more scarce. Her kingdom was by no means spared from hardship, but the river that cut through their land quenched her people’s thirst and allowed for the growth of crops—even if the yield was meager, it was enough to keep the people from starvation. By the time Serpci took the throne, conflict had broken out between the neighboring kingdoms. Serpci closely guarded her land’s borders as they grew more and more dangerous. Eventually, she closed them altogether. Her efforts to keep her people out of conflict would prove to be futile.

Invading forces were looming on the horizon, and Serpci realized she could no longer ignore the growing threat. She amassed an army and met the invaders at her kingdom’s borders. Better equipped and with greater discipline, Serpci’s forces easily repelled their would-be conquerors. Her people’s success was short lived. When the invaders returned, the young pharaoh felt she had no choice but to ensure their complete demise. Just as before, her warriors pushed back the enemy forces, only this time, when they retreated, Serpci pursued them beyond her kingdom’s borders. She lead the charge, eventually catching up to and surrounding the fleeing army. In the heat of battle, no one saw the rapidly approaching sandstorm until it was far too late. With nowhere to seek shelter, both armies were consumed by the dessert tempest and buried alive. Very few survive the ordeal—Serpci is not one of them.

Other Headcanons

When she was an infant, her parents awoke one morning to find a deadly cobra coiled in her crib. They were (understatedly) terrified for her safety, and while they and their servants fretted over how to safely retrieve the child, she—to their growing horror—awakened and began to curiously reach out to the snake. Instead of biting her, the cobra patiently allowed the infant to pat its scaly body. It eventually slithered out of the crib, leaving an unharmed infant and a room full of stunned adults in its wake. Many similar encounters with snakes would continue to occur, and when the time came to name their daughter, her parents decided on Serpci—after her unusual sway over serpents.

Serpci’s body was never found, and thus, was not given the proper mummification and burial of a royal. Without the preparations needed for the afterlife, Serpci’s spirit could not rest. The pyramid we see in the hotel is a reflection of the tomb she was denied.

Nikki, Lindsey, and Ginny

The triplets first got their taste of magic when they saw a magician perform at one of their friend’s birthday parties. They quickly fell in love with the art, and immediately began studying the craft themselves. Their parents initially humored their interest, thinking it to be a phase the girls would soon grow out of, but when the children’s passion showed no signs of waning, they began to actively discourage it—especially when the triplets expressed a desire to one day turn it into a career. They didn’t allow their parent’s lack of support to dampen their dream. When the girls felt confident enough in their abilities, they began putting on shows at their local community theater.

Nikki, Lindsey, and Ginny were quite talented for their age—pulling off illusions that were meant for those with twice their level of experience. Audiences of all ages were wowed by their skill, but no matter how well the triplets did, their parents never shifted their stance. They never came to a single performance. As much as the girls tried to hide it, their parent’s complete dismissal of their passion was a huge blow to their sense of self-worth. In a last-ditch effort to earn their parent’s approval, the sisters decided to try something they felt couldn’t possibly fail to impress them: real magic.

After a brief, but successful, dabbling into simple spells, the triplets felt they were ready to try something bigger. Practice sessions went well, but on the night of the big debut, things went horribly, horribly, wrong. A mistake caused one of the spells to violently backfire. As inexperienced as the girls were, they were unable to contain it, and were consumed by the blast.

Other Headcanons:

The triplets are desperate for validation, especially from adults they admire. If you express even the slightest interest in their magic, they will latch onto that support like little leeches, and you’ll be hard pressed to make them let go.

===

Part 3 got away from me toward the end, let me tell ya. These weren’t supposed to get so detailed and yet, here we are. Just wait until you see the fourth and final part—it’s stupid long (to me, anyway).

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irregularjohnnywiggins · 4 years

Text

So, hey, a while ago I came up with this ask game about songs I associate with Arthurian characters. I had a lot of fun with that, but really wanted it to be more streamlined, so I came up with this solution - a list of Arthurian characters and the songs I associate with them.

Now, before we get into the list proper, I need to establish some things, the main one being that these song choices are primarily based on my interpretations of the characters, which is going to become extremely relevant with a few key choices that deviate completely from the normal story. Also, as an inevitable follow-through of this, these songs are entirely subject to my musical tastes, so if you're wondering why most of this list is either Heather Dale, Miracle of Sound or Jeff and Casey Lee Williams that's why. Finally, obviously not every Arthurian character is on this list - with some of the big-name ones like Merlin that's because I couldn't come up with a song choice, with others it's because I haven't fully come up with my version of them and as a result I'm still figuring them out.

With all that out of the way, I hope you enjoy this list!

King Arthur – Kingsword by Heather Dale

Kinda an obvious one - it's literally about Arthur - but I really like it and think it fits well with my version of Arthur, especially the last line of the chorus, 'A boy's hand will grasp it/A man's raise it high' - a major plot point of The Boy King is that Arthur has to grow up incredibly fast after the Sword in the Stone, and this song reflects that.

Guinevere – As I Am by Heather Dale

Again, another obvious one. This song brings into focus one major aspect of the Arthur/Guinevere relationship I play up - it's as much about their ideals as their attraction. Guinevere marries Arthur because she believes in his vision for Britain, and Arthur relies on Guinevere a lot for moral support. This is their greatest strength together, but it's also their greatest weakness - Arthur will later place faith in Guinevere's understanding of his vision where he shouldn't, and that will be the thing that turns Guinevere to Lancelot.

Morgan le Fay – Divide & Armed and Ready by Casey Lee Williams

Moving on to my favourite character in Arthuriana, Morgan gets two songs because... I wanted to give Morgan two songs. No, really it's because Morgan is complicated, and the two songs present her two moods more or less throughout her story - either vengefully, apocalyptically angry, or just righteously angry. That's my favourite thing about Morgan's story - she has a redemption arc, to be sure, but at no point during it does she accept that her motivation was wrong - Uther and Merlin deserved what she wanted to give them, her sin was in taking her anger out on people that had nothing to do with her revenge. So, whilst it's not as simple as a black and white 'Divide is Morgan pre-redemption, Armed and Ready is Morgan post', there is a sense that Armed and Ready is Morgan at her calmest. Also, because visually Morgan takes a lot of cues from the Trollhunters version of her, I've had a lot of fun with the 'I am the Golden One' line.

Morgause – Mordred’s Lullaby by Heather Dale

Yet another easy one - some might think it works better for Mordred, but I have other ideas for him. Not really much else to say - it's Morgause at her most evil, going places even Morgan won't - note how Divide calls out using children as weapons, whereas Lullaby goes 'yeah, I'm doing that Count of Monte Christo shit'.

Mordred – Mordred’s Song by Blind Guardian

Because edgelord Mordred gets edgelord rock song. Mordred is interesting, because I really don’t like the ‘born pure evil’ idea of Mordred, and as such his story is much more of a tragedy than even Arthur - a man who makes what he feels are the best decisions with what he has to work with, who slowly comes to the realisation that he's the villain of this story. Hence, a song that refers to his acts of evil as 'No one asked if I want this/If I like this'.

Nimue – Indomitable by Casey Lee Williams

This one was tough to keep in - whilst I'm absolutely certain that it fits my version of Nimue, the song itself is deeply personal for the people who made it, about an actual tragedy that happened to them, and I'm deeply uncomfortable saying that 'actually it's about this'. So, provided we're all aware that this is, more than any other song on the list, me twisting the original intent to fit my own idea, this is perfect for Nimue, particularly Nimue immediately after imprisoning Merlin and taking over his role as The Light Mage, the Big Good of the magical world. Her story’s pretty interesting, but the theme of trying to fill shoes that are way to big for you and eventually realising you can’t and the best you can do is try your best and do your own thing is prevalent and reflected perfectly by this song.

Lancelot – C’est Moi by Frederick Loewe and Alan Jay Lerner/Bad Luck Charm by Jeff Williams

Like Morgan, Lancelot gets two songs, but unlike Morgan there is an absolutely sharp divide between these two. To use a Fate reference as shorthand, C'est Moi is Lancelot as a Saber, whilst Bad Luck Charm is Lancelot as Beserker. C'est Moi is kinda the perfect song for Lancelot for most of the story - oozing self-confidence, probably too smug for his own good but exactly the right level of smug where you're not sure if you want to punch him or kiss him, it's great for Lancelot. Bad Luck Charm, on the other hand, is basically what's playing on a loop in Lancelot's head as soon as he gets caught with Guinevere, especially given he survives Camlann. Countless dead, two civil wars ripping the country apart, his friends either killed at his hands or cursing his name, his king and queen in a place he cannot get to, and all the while he's left to wander the world knowing that it's all his fault.

Gawain – Sir Gawain and the Green Knight by Heather Dale

Not really much to say about this one - it's definitely influenced my interpretation of Gawain as the Pagan Knight to Lancelot's Christian Knight, and a lot of the events the song describes are what happens when the Green Knight comes to play, but all in all its just a really good song.

Kay – True and Destined Prince by Heather Dale

Being the deuteragonist of the Boy King, Kay is someone I've put a lot of thought into, and this song is definitely a part of my writers playlist I keep listening to to get into the Kay mood. In particular the key defining factor of Kay is loyalty - particularly to Arthur the person, because obviously anyone trying to hurt his little brother is getting smacked. Kay is basically the Leo McGarry to Arthur's Jed Bartlet if that makes any sense, helping to make Arthur's dreams a reality, and there's also the factor that Kay and Arthur always consider one another brothers, which the song definitely reflects.

Bedivere – I Follow My King by Heather Dale

You may notice that this song is basically the same thematically as Kay's song. This is because Kay and Bedivere are a healthy couple that communicate their feelings with one another and come to reasonable compromises, so obviously their attitudes towards certain things are very similar. But talking about Bedivere in particular, this song works better for him than Kay because of one key aspect about Bedivere - whereas Gawain swears allegiance to Arthur for initially very mercenary ideals, and Lancelot swears to Arthur because of Arthur's reputation, Bedivere swears to Arthur because he's experienced Arthur growing up, he's seen the kind of man he's grown into, and he knows that Arthur's going to be a great king. Also the song works better for Bedivere because if Arthur tried pulling the shit the subject of this song does on Kay he's get locked in his room until he learnt not to be an idiot.

Ragnelle – Force of Nature by Miracle of Sound

Tbh it's mainly here for the line 'They rant of redemption/As I leave them long behind' which is peak Ragnelle energy - Ragnelle doesn't care about your feelings or what you think about her, she's doing her own thing and she demands you take her seriously. Aside from that, Ragnelle in my version has a faintly Fae connection to the Otherworld, and even if I go with the idea of her dying (I'm still undecided on that) it's more than likely that she ends up in some other place where her and Gawain can spend their days, so there's a particular melancholy to the lines 'I can hear the worlds unseen/I can hear them call to me'.

Galahad – A Thousand Eyes by Miracle of Sound

This definitely doesn't seem like a song that fits Galahad, does it? It's certainly not the one I picked when I did the original format of this list, so what gives? Well, more than maybe any other song on this list, this one is influenced by my specific version of Galahad, and that is influenced by my specific version of the Grail Quest, which I only codified a few months ago - namely, by saying 'fuck it' and making it a horror story. I'm not kidding. There's a lot of complexity in this interpretation, and I'd love to go more in depth about it at a later date, but for now know that my Galahad isn't a clumsy Jesus stand-in, he's more like a Lovecraft protagonist briefly brushing against things beyond mortal ken before being consumed by them, and as such I could think of no better song than this one.

Gareth – Touch the Sky by Casey Lee Williams

Now, as with Galahad there are certain key things you need to know about my version of Gareth before the song makes sense. Unlike Galahad, this one is very simple: the boy is trans. Absolutely, unambiguously trans. His story is explicitly trans, he's explicitly trans, and as I've been reliabily informed by certain people this song has a lot of Good Trans Vibes, which I can definitely see. Honestly Gareth's story is another one I could probably talk about for a while, especially because I'm really unsure about certain bits of it, being cis and very wary of screwing up trans rep, but for now I'll leave it at this song being perfect for Gareth in Camelot, finally able to be himself and not Morgause junior - because if you expected Morgause to be a good mum you need to listen to Mordred’s Lullaby again.

Ywain – Stay By My Side by Miracle of Sound

Cute friendship song for the boy with the lioness companion, not much more to say about it. There is a search for identity element in both Journey and Ywain's story, in Ywain's case being a search for his own meaning outside of his family, but mainly its a cute soft song for a cute soft lion boy.

Dinadan – Knights of the Round Table by Monty Python

Because what else would it be?

Uther – Lionize by Jeff Williams

Asshole attracts asshole, and Uther's just enough of a dick that Adam's particular brand of 'everyone who isn't like me is weak and cowardly and only I can see what's necessary to save us all, you'll see I'm right in the end'. Also, you may notice there's no Merlin song here, and whilst that's partially because I don't know a song that could explain my complicated feelings towards Merlin, this song also tells you everything you need to know about Merlin, because if Merlin can look at someone who's got this in their heads and think he's a perfect candidate for the throne then maybe Morgan has a point after all.

Igraine – The Best I Can by Miracle of Sound

Igraine might have one of the most complicated backstories in The Boy King, involving mermaids, Mirror Universe Wonder Woman and the plot of ICO, but none of that is strictly speaking relevant to the story as is told. Basically, Igraine has been through a lot, and this song is about her trying to prepare all her children for the cruel world out there, and also knowing that she can't. It's kind of a downer to end on, but hey it's Arthurian Legend - it's all a downer.

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jeonggukingdom · 5 years

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mots démoniaques, 4 | hiraeth

❖ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

❖ Genre: [mythological!AU, demon!AU] | Angst, Smut, Romance

❖ Summary: You can sense from miles away the sin that dances on his tongue, the words that he so loves to shape into sinister thoughts and morph into sickening outcomes aimed at tainting and wrecking all things mundane and innocent. Kim Taehyung - a voice of honey and features of a cherub - is nothing but a monster. He has lived millenniums, yet, he has never found such a fascinating creature as you are and polluting your very being has slowly become his entire life motive.

❖ Word Count: 1.602 words

❖ Prompt Word: hiraeth

❖ AN: The Amanojaku is a small demon that finds its roots in the Japanese folklore. Everything besides his name and his power - aka the ability to instigate people into wickedness with his words - is entirely the fruit of my own imagination and doesn’t have anything to do with the original myth.

❖ WARNINGS: mentions of blood, mental breakdown.

« Previous | Next »

The Welsh call it hiraeth—this crippling emotion of longing and loss over something that used to be and does not exist any longer.

You call it madness.

Because what you miss was never true, not a single bit of it and yet, here you are, sitting at your vanity with void eyes staring right back at you.

It is impossible to conceal the dark circles under your eyes, to mask the redness that days of tears have caused, to hide the chipped lips and bit down nails.

All the pain you felt inside your heart for the past few years has decided to come up and show itself to the entire world.

Your bottom lip trembles and you close your eyes, willing the tears back with all your might, even at the cost of chocking on every single one of them.

You have to get up, you have to keep on moving and prove him he can’t break you, no matter how hard he comes at you, hits you with his sickening lies and dirty little games.

I am stronger than you, you think to yourself and, truthfully, you do try.

Every single day you get up, you shower, you eat a little and get yourself inside your clothes ready to leave and yet, in the past few days, leaving the safety of your own four walls has turned into a task harder than it ever was.

And still, so stupidly, your heart keeps missing him.

You miss his sweet smile, his shining eyes, his sweet scent, the feeling of his curly blond hair between your fingertips, the sensation of his thin lips on your supple flesh, his characteristic laugh and the way he’d snuggle into you at any given moment, ready to cuddle with you until you both fell asleep.

You miss his voice, especially first thing in the morning or right before going to bed.

Hell, you miss everything about him.

But he, he was never real.

The man you loved, the life you built together, all the lovely words he spoke, those things, they were all lies.

And yet, oh so stubbornly, your heart belongs to him still, proving itself to be a proper masochist, seeking the hurt to make sure it keeps beating hard against your ribcage.

A shaky breath escapes your mouth as you tilt your head towards the left, your trembling hand reaching out to seek a pair of earrings to adorn your ears with, desperately trying to mask the hurt with your usual appearance and attire.

In the past few days you tried really hard to put back on the perfect mask you built for yourself in the last few years but every single time there was something, even the smallest thing, turning all your efforts into ashes.

At first, there was that god-awful video of you making a spectacle of yourself at the club; then it was a Facebook notification about a photo you shared on the site five years ago sporting you and Taehyung still madly in love, all shiny eyes and deep smiles.

Today, that fatal drop filling the dyke to the breaking point comes in the form a white golden ring.

Stuffed underneath all of your jewellery, the ring has been hidden there for years now, tucked away from your eyes because what is it that they say, out of sight out of mind?

Yet somehow this morning, your fingers brush against its cold surface, close around it and bring it in front of your face in all of its taunting glory.

Taehyung’s black eyes seem to reflect in the onyx nestled in the centre of the ring and just like that, you are thrown in a distant past where you had been truly happy, where things were easy and there was only love fueling your life.

The tears come rushing down your face before you can stop them and gulp them all down. They come flooding down like pouring rain and just like in a storm, soon come the thunders in the form of your desperate sobs.

Your body shakes and aches with the violence of your despair spilling out of you in all of its grandness.

Today is another failure and amidst all that sadness and hurt and hunger, guilt and self-hatred and self-pity emerge, cutting your breath in half.

Your hands tremble and so do your legs as you stand up from your seat and take an unsteady step backwards.

You hate everything today: him, yourself, your life, the entire world.

A scream erupts from your dry and chapped lips and you lounge forward in an outburst, incapable of controlling this red madness any longer.

All the pretty perfume bottles, all the little pieces of jewellery, the make-up brushes and the lipsticks, they all come tumbling down as you shove them to the ground.

You want to break everything, turn it as ugly and damaged as you feel and that is why you do not stop, not even for a second, until the whole room has turned into utter chaos.

At last, you stare back at that stupid mirror. Your eyes are swollen, turned an angry red, your lips are trembling and your cheeks are deeply lined by dried tears and you hate that this is you, that that person staring back at you is yourself, morphed and mutilated by something supposedly so simple and beautiful as love.

You grab the little chair and with all your might, you throw it onto the glass, laughing as it breaks into a million pieces, giving you back a distorted image of yourself.

That, is what you are. Shattered.

A whimper escapes your lips as you drag yourself around the now-silent apartment, the pain of stepping on the shards of glass barely registering in your mind just like the blood, following your every step up to the bed.

You crawl back inside the dirty sheets and close your eyes wishing for sleep to embrace you once more and bring you away from all of this. Maybe if you sleep long enough everything will fix itself?

Your eyes open but the room is completely held in darkness. There is not a single sound inside the apartment aside from your breath and yet, you can sense it. There is someone there with you.

“Tae?” Your voice is hoarse, sounding as broken as you feel and filled with a hope you should not be feeling.

Yet, when he comes out of the darkness, your heart leaps inside your chest, your lungs open and allow more air to fill them as if he were the very lymph cursing through your body.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What happened?”

His voice is soft as he reaches you to sit on the edge of the bed, close enough for you to be able to inhale his sweet scent. He looks troubled, worried even.

“I miss you,” you pathetically voice out with a whimper and you watch his eyebrows turn up in mild surprise before his eyes fill with sorrow and regret.

“I’m right here baby,” he says and his fingers delicately brush your head, they play with your hair as he used to do whenever you were upset or tired or sick.

It still feels nice, hell, it feels normal, just like it used to be.

And that is why you realize this must be a dream. This is not the real Taehyung, this is the man you fell in love with but he doesn’t really exist.

A small smile tugs on your lips nevertheless because if this is really a dream then it means anything is possible.

In here, he can be real, he can still be in love with you and he can be here for you, for as long as you need him to be.

“Can you hug me, please?”

You look up to him, hope filling you whole as you stare into his eyes.

They are chocolate brown tonight, warm and filled with affection, just like you remembered them to be.

Without uttering a single word, Taehyung slips under the covers to lie down next to you and then, he guides your body towards his so that he can embrace you tightly to his chest, rest his chin above your head and whisper sweet nothings inside your ears.

His perfume fills your senses as you tilt your head a little upward so that you can nestle it right in the crook of his neck.

The warmth of his body feels so real it almost breaks your heart all over again.

“It’s ok, baby,” he says, kissing your head as he hugs you even tighter to his chest, “I’m here now, everything is going to be alright.”

“Tae?” You whisper, closing your eyes and hugging him back in fear he may disappear soon if you don’t keep him there with you with the sheer strength of your hands.

“Yeah?”

“Please don’t leave me.”

A few seconds tick by in utter silence and for a moment, you fear his response. You hold your breath as your heart misses a beat and you expectantly look up, scared he might turn into smoke soon.

“I won’t.” He says, his voice trembling as he does so, “I promise.”

A smile tugs on your lips and you let your eyes close once more, basking in the sensation of having him like this after such a long time.

This is just a dream, you remind yourself and maybe it is sad that this is the happiest you have been in months but, it is all you have left.

❖ Tag List: @lavavu - @djasheyash99 - @la-vie-en-tae || want to be added? Click: here

#ficswithluv #kwordsmiths #thekimlinenet #btsguild #btswriterscollective #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #bts x reader

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megsironthrone · 5 years

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Choose Your Story Part 4

Here’s Part 4! You voted and it was...a tie! So, I did my best to include both the self-defense class scenario AND the reader taking care of a drunken Sandor scenario! *As always, familiar characters are not mine*

Prologue, part 2, part 3

Warnings: Modern AU, mentions of alcohol, drinking, and drunkenness, a little fluffy-ish, a couple of swears, and a few POV changes.

Pairings/Characters: Eventual Sandor x reader, Renly, Tyrion

After that night, a sort of uneasy truce settled between you and The Arse, or Sandor as you finally learned his name was. You made an effort to be a little less annoying and he wasn't banging on your door every other day to tell you off about one thing or another. You greeted each other when you passed in the hallways and you were civil.

For example, one evening, you were headed out at the same time. "Hello, Sandor," you greeted to which he gave a little nod. He took in your outfit. "Bit underdressed for a night out, aren't you?" You snorted out a laugh. You hadn't really been "out" since your breakup. Well, except for once when Renly insisted you go out and get rip-roaring drunk.

"Nah. I've got a class tonight." Sandor nodded again and silence descended. "Well, I gotta go. See you around." You scurried away from him so you weren't late. It was your first night in your new self-defense class. After what happened with your ex and Sandor's comments about learning how to throw a proper punch, you decided to sign up for one. Your jaw dropped when your instructors walked in.

Sandor's POV

Sandor's eyes scanned the room and nearly bugged out of his skull when he saw you were in his class. Part of the reason he agreed to teach it was to get some space between the two of you. It helped keep the fighting to a minimum. Still, you were here and had paid the fee. Now it was time to see what you, and everyone else in the class, could do.

Sandor found his eyes inexplicably traveling to you every so often. You weren't the best in the class by any means, but you weren't the worst either. In fact, Sandor was impressed by the amount of stamina you had and the expression of fierce determination on your face was something he had a difficult time letting go of. It awakened a feeling in Sandor that he hadn't felt in a very long time and his thoughts began to wander.

When had he started seeing you as attractive? Was it during the many arguments when you were screaming at each other? Or was it when you punched your ex, breaking their nose, when you had walked in on them cheating on you? Or was it just the other day when you had randomly decided to set up your easel next to the building and paint? Sandor remembered the line of paint you'd accidentally spread across your cheek. He didn't know what had started it, but he did know that he didn't like it. He felt vulnerable.

As class continued, Sandor couldn't keep his mind clear. He managed to make it through to the end, but he knew if you were going to keep taking the class, he was going to need something a lot stronger than the feelings he was developing to cope. Part of him hoped he would be fortunate enough and you would drop the class.

Of course, he wasn't lucky. Luck and Sandor Clegane did not go hand-in-hand. You stayed in the class for the entire twelve weeks. Three whole months of seeing you three nights a week as well as at home. During those three months, Sandor's feelings grew. He found himself staring at you more often than not. And when he wasn't staring, he was hoping you wouldn't get hurt in class. Or he was thinking about how attractive you'd looked that morning in your paint-covered smock.

Sandor didn't know how to deal with these feelings of his, especially as he had no hope for any kind of future with you. Sure, you didn't seem to hate him now; you had gotten passed that. But after being told most of his life that he would never be loved, Sandor knew he could never have you. After all, who could love a ruined face like his?

So Sandor turned to the only thing he knew could help. The bottle and even that would only help for a little while. He tried his best not to get drunk. If the little brat needed him, he had to be ready. But he wanted to forget you if only for a little while. If only he had known what was going on in the head of the person in the apartment next to his.

Normal POV

You let out a sigh as you peeled the label off the bottle in your hands. You, Renly, and your mutual friend Tyrion were seated in your apartment, looking at your newest painting. "It's good, Y/N, really. I would put this in the gallery if you'd let me." You shook your head vehemently. "Absolutely not. He cannot know about this." Renly sighed as he glanced back at the finished work.

"You got it bad." Your brows furrowed. "What are you talking about?" Renly gestured to the painting. "It's obvious you're in love with the guy. Or at least getting there. It's quite a change from the first ones you painted of him." You rolled your eyes. "I am not in love with Sandor." Renly's face lit up. "Oh, so it's 'Sandor' now, is it? A few months ago, he was 'The Arse'. Admit it, Y/N, you really like this guy…or is it like I said the first time I saw him and you just want to sleep with him."

"Oh Y/N definitely wants to sleep with him." You glared at your other friend. "Et tu, Tyrion? I don't want to sleep with him and I don't love him. He's just…an interesting subject to paint is all," you defended weakly as you got up. You opened the fridge and glanced on the counter. "Damn. No booze." Renly and Tyrion were by your side in an instant. "If you need some liquid courage, you've come to the right place. I know a quaint little bar just around the corner." You didn't get a chance to protest before they dragged your from your apartment, allowing you barely enough time to snatch up your keys and wallet.

You were grateful that the bar wasn't super crowded. You didn't think you could handle a lot of people in addition to Renly and Tyrion. What you didn't expect to see was Sandor at the bar. His eyes widened a fraction. If you hadn't been looking directly at him, you would have missed it. Then, he turned away from you and back to his drink. Realizing he wasn't interested in company that night, you turned your attention back to your friends.

It wasn't but an hour or so later that you noticed Sandor get up. He swayed a bit too much for your liking. You didn't want him to hit his head or anything, so you decided to help him out. "Can you guys get a cab? Sandor needs a little help. I know our place is in walking distance, but I'd rather him not go alone." Renly and Tyrion, already showing the signs of drunkenness, waved you off.

Sandor had taken two steps before you were by his side. After assuring the bartender that you'd see the giant of a man home, you gently took Sandor's arm and lead him from the bar. While Sandor seemed mostly steady on his feet, you didn't want him to fall on the sidewalk and crack his head open.

You hadn't even closed the door of the bar behind you when Sandor started talking. He was so quiet most of the time, you didn't think he could speak this much in one sitting, but he talked the entire way back to the apartment building, all the way up the stairs and to his door.

"Where are your keys?" you asked as he leaned against the wall. He patted his pockets. "Must have left 'em with Brienne. She didn't want me taking the bike." You forced yourself not to let out a groan. You did NOT want to go all the way back to the bar just for his keys. That left two options: Leave him in the hallway and risk him falling down the stairs, or let him into your apartment.

"Come on," you guided gently. Once inside, you lead Sandor to your room. There was no way he would fit on the couch. Sandor was still babbling a little bit and you laughed as he flopped down on your mattress. "What has gotten into you?" you asked him.

"Y/N," his muffled voiced answered, "Y/N is just so damned attractive. I think -*hic*-I think I love-*hic*-Y/N." You blinked in surprise. Clearly he didn't realize he was talking to you. He loved you? Since when? "Y-You do?" He nodded into the pillow. "Don't say anything-*hic*-or I'll run you-*hic*-over with my-*hic*-bike. Y/N can't know." You opened your mouth to say something, anything, more, but soft snores filled your ears. Smiling to yourself, you left the drunken man to his dreams.

You leaned against the now closed door as your heart raced a mile a minute. Sandor loved you. Or thought he did anyway. You didn't understand it. How had that even become a thing? Then you thought on it. Maybe it was like you. Slowly When you met him, you hated him. Your art reflected that. Deep angry strokes of dark paints covered canvases. And now that you didn't hate him, your paintings were lighter, brighter, and happier.

You lied on the couch and closed your eyes, your mind thinking about the sleeping man who had inadvertently become your muse. Was Renly right and you loved him? You didn't even think it was possible to fall in love with someone and not know it. But maybe it was. Maybe you were falling in love with Sandor and your art was trying to tell you that. All it took was a drunk confession from him to make you really think about it. Now you just had to decide whether or not you were going to confront him.

(a/n: How’d i do combining the scenarios? I finished this at 6 this morning so hopefully it makes sense. I hope you enjoyed this part! Voting for part 5 will be up tomorrow!)

Choose Your Story Tags: @fallatyourfeet @songoficecreamandfireworks @emmice9 @silversprings98 @thatcutewerewolf (Tags for this are still open!)

#modern au #choose your story #part 4 #sandor clegane #sandor clegane x reader #sandor x reader #enemies to lovers

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louistomlinsoncouk · 5 years

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Louis Tomlinson: ‘It took some real maturity to understand that One Direction wasn't real life’

I meet Louis Tomlinson at Simon Cowell's London office: a huge, two-room space befitting of a Bond villain at Sony Music’s HQ in High Street Kensington, on the floor occupied by his label, Syco. Cowell, to be clear, isn’t here, but he definitely feels present. A ten-foot portrait of the music mogul smirks down on all those who enter from the minimalist living room wall. Tomlinson, his publicist and I go straight through the frosted glass doors into the office-proper to do our interview, but before we can start the 27-year-old One Direction member turned solo artist needs a cigarette.

Within 30 seconds someone has brought Tomlinson a heavy orb-shaped black ashtray and a cup of tea. He lights up – smoking two more over the next half an hour – and visibly relaxes, leaning back in his chair. Tomlinson has the air of a comedic TV personality: warm, funny and self-effacing, he makes regular references to his hometown of Doncaster (“Donny”), has a loud, theatrical voice and swears like a trooper. “Simon won’t mind,” he says – and mind Cowell shouldn’t. One Direction, one of the most successful boy bands of all time, were Cowell’s cash cow after he brought them together on the X Factor in 2010. Since going on “hiatus” in 2016, all five boys (now men in their mid-twenties) launched solo careers, but only Tomlinson stuck with Syco. Now, Cowell's last vestige of the One Direction big bucks is gearing up to release a debut album, which, as anyone who knows anything about the fervour of the band's fans will be well aware, is already a guaranteed hit.

Tomlinson has, however, taken a big risk. Dressed in a vintage red football shirt, black tracksuit bottoms and black trainers, hair still styled into sweeping boy band perfection, he explains that this new music is “a statement of intent”. Gone are the saccharine, dance-tinged pop beats heard on his 2017 and 2018 collaborations with Bebe Rexha and Steve Aoki. Instead, his latest single “Kill My Mind” is a nineties rock-inspired anthem that sounds like an ode to Oasis. “I spent a long time treading water working out where I fit in the industry,“ he says. “I had to work out what it is I can actually get away with, and just how much I have to play for radio,” explaining that he did the aforementioned collaborations “because I felt like I had Tomlinson says that, unlike former bandmates Zayn Malik and Liam Payne, both of who have released music obviously influenced by hip-hop and R&B, “I can’t really relate to the urban-leaning sounds you hear on American radio”. Instead, he cites Catfish And The Bottlemen as an influence (“Lyrically, it’s conversational and honest”) and spends his time listening to Apple Music playlist “Kebab On The Night Bus”, which features bands such as The Arctic Monkeys, The Stone Roses, The Who and Idles . The result is a solo output that, finally, makes him feel “really excited and really proud. This is where I want to be.

So what does he want this new music to say about him, other than he likes guitar music? “I want people to look at me as a good and credible songwriter.” Overall, what I want from my lyrics is honesty,” he elaborates. “I want it to be real. I don’t want them to feel Hollywood or contrived.” Most of the album is “very autobiographical”, but he’s also taken care to keep it “exciting”, after listening to the earliest version of it and feeling that “A lot of it sounded quite sad.” Tomlinson, who lost his younger sister earlier this year, references the single before “Kill My Mind”, “Two Of Us”, which is about his late mother, Johannah Deakin, who passed away in 2016 after a battle with leukaemia. “That’s a very, very honest song, but it was also very emotionally heavy. I don’t want to be known as that guy.” What, the stereotypical mope with a guitar? “Yeah, exactly, I don’t want people feeling sorry for me. I want people to feel good when they listen to my music. That’s one of the amazing things we had with One Direction.”

Together with Liam Payne, Tomlinson did a lot of the writing for One Direction, which, on reflection, he thinks he was driven to do so that he might find his role in the band. “This isn’t a relatable statement,” he acknowledges, “but I imagine that anyone who’s been in a band or boyband will understand this feeling. There were definitely times in the band that I felt like I could do more or sing more, which is why I actively tried to get better as a writer, because I thought that would be my outlet.”

Now Tomlinson feels like he's found his writing groove, but is he worried the One Direction fans might not like his new music? “Yeah and that’s what creates a bit of a conundrum actually, because that’s very relevant for me,” he says. “I feel like, to a certain degree, we all owe them something. We are where we are because of them, it’s as simple as that.” As my colleagues here at GQ can attest – this 2013 interview with the band got us death threats – upsetting fervent One Direction fans is not an action to be taken lightly. He says that he’s “deliberately included songs on the album that feel a little bit transitional, so it won’t be too alienating towards the fans”. Lyrically, however, he feels like he still “writes what they want to hear, because it’s honest and it’s real and it’s me pouring my heart out”.

But with a ready-made audience come anxiety-inducing benchmarks. “Having the experience of being in 1D was incredible and it’s given me so much to work with, but it’s also hard in terms of expectation, because that was the pinnacle of what we were,” he says sombrely, referring back to the time spent mulling over how to balance making music that’s authentic with finding his place in the mainstream. “If I’d done this interview two years ago, I’d have said to you that if my album doesn’t get to No1 I’ll feel like I’ve failed. It embarrasses me saying that shit out loud now, but it took some real maturity to understand that One Direction wasn’t real life... Everything I’d been shaping my experiences around was something that wasn’t real life, even in the music industry.”

We laugh about those heady days, when he was 18-24, fresh out of Doncaster and making the kind of money 99.9 per cent of us can only ever dream about. “There was a solid time when I spent a long time looking at the most stupid, ridiculous things to spend money on,” he says when I ask him about his own crazy popstar purchases, having read that Liam Payne once bought the Ford Anglia from Harry Potter And The Chamber Of Secrets. “I’ve got a long list of random movie props that starts with the great opener of the leg braces that Tom Hanks wears in Forest Gump. Have I ever got them out? No. I looked at them when I bought them like, ‘Oh, this is amazing,’ but really, I’m not a showy person, I’m not going to have them on display in my house.” Also stored away (“I’ve got Hard Rock Cafe in one cupboard”) are the swords from Kill Bill.

[...]

Has he ever considered retiring out of the public eye? “I’ve thought about that loads of times. It’s only the fans, and the fact I have a point to prove to myself, that keep me getting up every day and getting on to do it,” he says. “When I’m 50, I’m going to go off and get my coaching badges and I’m going to manage some youth team and win the FA Youth Cup with them.” So with all the intense media scrutiny, the feeling that you owe millions of people around the world well, something, and a hugely successful stint as a musician already under his belt, what’s he’s still trying to prove with his solo career? “People and the press love to say, ‘Oh, A and B will do well, but the rest of the lads, they’re not going to do anything.’ So my point I’m trying to prove is that I’m still going to be here in ten years, I hope”.

#louis tomlinson #press #kmm: british gq #kill my mind promo #19sep19 #it's not the full thing

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detroitwhatitmeanstobehuman · 4 years

Text

Chapter 15 - I Finally Understand

Part 15/17 of What it Means to be Human

Word Count: 12,766

Warnings: Swearing, historical events.

Genre: Self-insert/Angst/Fluff

Pairing: OC (Detective Rachel) X Connor

Rating: Mature

Summary: It’s the next day. The day that Jericho must decide what to do now, and the day that Rachel and Connor risk everything for the deviants. As Rachel lends her efforts to the surviving androids, she begins to ponder many things about life and about humanity. After all, it’s one thing to see or hear about a tragedy. It’s another to live one. One could be forgiven for reflecting on one’s circumstances.

First Chapter | Previous Chapter

---------------------------------

Eyes fluttering open, I woke up to a lovely sight. Connor was asleep, or more accurately in stasis, in front of me. Somehow I was awake before him, but instead of trying to wake up, I just opted to snuggle myself further into him until he did.

After all, there wasn’t going to be time to snuggle for who knows how long in about a few hours. I might as well enjoy this while I still can. I shuffled up a bit so Connor’s head could rest on my chest and I could run my fingers through his hair. I took this moment to take in every detail of him as the morning light filtered in through the window.

His LED was blue, which I was sure meant that he wasn’t dreaming. Could androids dream? I wasn’t sure. Maybe one day I’d find out.

Looking over him, I started admiring his freckles. They didn’t seem to be in any sort of pattern, just dotting his skin wherever. Each one was like a star on his pale skin. I couldn’t help but trace them with my fingers.

Now I could really appreciate just how handsome and cute he was. I wasn’t someone who could “fall in love at first sight,” as it were. If I fall in love with someone, it’s their personality that gets me first, then the connection we have. I’m bisexual, but I’m demiromantic. Granted, this happened a lot quicker than it tends to, but to be fair, a lot has happened in a short amount of time.

Whatever their appearance was didn’t matter. But it certainly didn’t hurt to have someone as perfectly designed as Connor. From his brown eyes, to his freckled skin, to his soft brown hair. Even that one piece that curled over his forehead and rebelled against his neatly groomed follicles was such a charming touch.

There was no doubt Connor was beautiful, and I was grateful that I could properly appreciate it now.

Relaxing into the deceptively calm morning, I just waited for Connor to wake up from his stasis. If it was possible to wake him up before the time he set, he showed no signs of it. So, feeling a bit in the mood for something sappy and cliche and anxious about what was going to happen once we left our bed, I started gently rocking him and started singing a melody.

Taking over this town they should worry,

But these problems aside I think I taught you well.

That we won't run, and we won't run, and we won't run.

And in the winter night sky ships are sailing,

Looking down on these bright blue city lights.

And they won't wait, and they won't wait, and they won't wait.

We're here to stay, we're here to stay, we're here to stay.

Leaning into him, I let out a sigh, knowing how hard it was going to be to let go of him.

Howling ghosts they reappear

In mountains that are stacked with fear

But you're a king and I'm a lionheart.

And in the sea that's painted black,

Creatures lurk below the deck

But you're a king and I'm a lionheart.

I smiled weakly, holding my king in my arms.

His crown lit up the way as we moved slowly

Past the wondering eyes of the ones that were left behind.

Though far away, though far away, though far away

We're still the same, we're still the same, we're still the same.

I realized it was a bit of a sad song, but it was appropriate to what I was feeling.

Howling ghosts they reappear

In mountains that are stacked with fear

But you're a king and I'm a lionheart.

And as the world comes to an end

I'll be here to hold your hand

'Cause you're my king and I'm your lionheart.

A lionheart.

A lionheart

A lionheart.

Leaning down, I kissed Connor’s forehead, and his LED flickered yellow as he opened his eyes, looking up at me. Being greeted by his smile this morning was better than I could’ve ever imagined. “Good morning, Detective.” He greeted.

I cupped his cheek, smiling back at him. He slid his hand over mine and leaned into my touch, closing his eyes. I could never get used to his genuine bliss at just being there with me. The fact that I made him this genuinely happy made me swell with pride and affection. “Morning, beautiful.” I teased, pulling his hand up to my lips and kissing his perfect knuckles.

Though, apparently that wasn’t enough for him, as he pulled himself up to me and planted a soft and gentle kiss on my lips, a gesture I was more than happy to return. Never did I think he would so eagerly seek out such affection. And I got the feeling that he shared that same sentiment.

He pulled away, resting his forehead against mine and I suddenly felt a surge of sensitivity. I didn’t have to look to know that we were connected again. I was getting used to it, and it also helped that this was far more mellow than our passionate romp the night prior. All I could feel was the calmness of the complete comfort and trust we had in each other and the shared affection and adoration we had towards each other.

It was a moment of safety.

I then felt a slice of concern from him and I opened my eyes to see his brows furrowed together. “What’s wrong?” I asked him, but I could feel that he was worried that he had hurt me.

“I left a wound where I bit you.” He fretted. “I’m sorry, Rachel. I-I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

I snickered at him, feeling his surprise at my nonchalant attitude. “Don’t worry too much about it.” I assured him, gently caressing his chin with my other hand. “I’d like to think of bruises and markings as...little trophies you leave me. Or, you marking your territory. Whichever you prefer, Detective.”

A dangerous flush of primal desire bloomed in him before he snuffed it out with relief. “Well, I’m happy that you’re not bothered by it.” He admitted.

I nodded, settling into the feeling of being connected to him. There was something so calming about this equilibrium between us. It was like our own space. No one else could enter it and only we understood it. It was our special place in time.

After a moment, Connor pulled away, severing the connection between us and sitting up proper. “We should start getting ready.” He suggested. “Start gathering the supplies we need, taking care of what needs to get taken care of before we leave, and plan what needs to be planned.”

I knew he was right, and that we didn’t have much time to lose, but...I just wished we could stay here forever.

But we couldn’t. And that was just the harsh reality.

“Yeah, you’re right, Connor.” I agreed, sitting up and stretching. “Better sooner than later.” Connor had turned his back to me and I could properly see just how well-toned he was. Freckles seemed to dot his entire body, and I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out to him and pressing my body against him, wrapping my arms around his chest as I hugged him from behind. I sighed, resting my chin on his shoulder, feeling Connor press his cheek into my forehead. “I wish we didn’t have to interrupt this.” I admitted somberly. “I wish we could have this every day.”

Connor put his hand on mine and kissed my cheek. “If we succeed, we can.” He assured me. “I promise.”

I scoffed affectionately at him. “Is that you admitting that you want to spend your immaculate android life with me?” I asked him, liking the idea of having Connor around for the rest of my life.

“I’d like to.” He answered honestly. “If you’d have me.”

I hugged him even tighter. “Of course I would, Connor.” I assured him. “You basically live here, anyways. I see no reason to change that, especially now that...we’re actually together. As a couple.”

A couple. That’s...what we were. We were partners in more ways than one. That sentence never felt so right to think. “Well, we should get dressed.” He suggested, pulling away from me to stand up, looking down at me. I couldn’t help but glance down at the merchandise now that it was in daylight. To my surprise, his member was dotted with freckles as well. “Hey, Rachel.” Connor said, getting my attention. He was smirking at me, pointing to his face. “My eyes are up here, Detective.”

I snickered, getting up from the bed and playfully backhanding his shoulder. “Smartass.” I grumbled mockingly, glancing around on the floor for my pajamas. My shirt was on the ground, and I quickly grabbed it and folded it on the bed, straightening the sheets and making it.

Connor was already getting dressed back into his suit and all I had were my PJs. At least, for now. I walked over to the bathroom to have a look in the mirror.

And, wow. Connor really did a number on my neck and I couldn’t help but admire the masterpiece he painted on the canvas that was my skin. The thought of other people knowing that I was Connor’s, just by seeing the way he marked me, was very pleasing to me.

I saw the android approaching me from my peripheral vision and then let him walk behind me. He wrapped his arms around my still naked body and rested his chin on my head. “Admiring my work, Detective?” He asked coyly.

“Very much so, Connor.” I admitted, not at all ashamed. “You really didn’t hold back.”

His LED flickered yellow as he looked at me in the mirror with concern. “Should I have?”

God, he was so cute. “No! I liked it.” I promised him, putting my hands on his. “I like it very much. You really wanted to claim me, didn’t you?”

His LED blinked red for a moment as a knowing smile creased his lips. “I know some people think of neck bruising as a sort of symbol of ownership, in a positive way.” He explained, making me hold back a snicker. “When you told me to bite you harder, I got the sense you were one of those people.” I shuddered. “So I only thought it would be appropriate to make sure you knew you were mine.”

Damn, I didn’t realize that he could be kinky. As his LED continued blinking red, I saw his hands drifting downward, and I promptly stopped him, turning around to face him. “Don’t even think about it, you scoundrel.” I cautioned him playfully. “I can’t have you working me up before we do what we have to do, today, and I’d rather not show up to the rebellion not able to walk straight.”

Connor seemed taken aback for a moment before he gently pecked my forehead. “Of course.” He said, turning to leave the bathroom. “Although I do enjoy teasing you, Detective.”

I scoffed at him as I followed him out. “Oh, I know you do.”

He walked towards the bedroom door, opening it and looking back at me. “I’ll be waiting for you downstairs.”

I nodded. “I won’t be long, Connor.”

As he left, I went into my closet, perusing my selection. In any case, I was pretty confident that I was going to have to wear a turtleneck. Not that I was ashamed of the display on my neck, but I’d rather not distract anyone while I was there given the rather grim circumstances.

--------

Date: November 10th, 2038 Time: 10:43 AM Rachel - Lover Objective: Prepare to Meet With Survivors

Finishing taking care of Bear, Connor donned his “deviant outfit,” with the bulletproof vest as he had done before on top of his suit. As much as a part of him didn’t think he needed it still, he didn’t want to alarm or worry Rachel.

And besides, it was better to be cautious than reckless.

Hearing Rachel walk down the stairs, Connor saw her and approached. She was wearing a different outfit than she wore last night, sporting a turtleneck of various shades of grey, making it appear like TV static from afar, with long sleeves.

No doubt to hide the marks he left on her neck, a fact that made Connor swell with a predatory sense of pride. Indeed, he found an allure in marking his property. Although he could never think of himself as owning Rachel in the literal sense, nor she him. Far from, he would never want to deviate from the equal ground the pair stood with each other. But there was something that electrified his circuits about thinking of Rachel as his, and marking her to send a message to onlookers that she was his.

As she walked towards him, her phone in hand and his quarter in her left, Connor approached her. However, he noticed a frustrated grimace on her face. “What’s wrong?” He asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“There’s no cell signal.” Rachel complained. “I still have internet, but if I don’t have data, then all I have is right now to let Bianca know if stuff goes wrong.”

Connor nodded. Bianca. Rachel’s sister. “I understand.” He assured her, pecking her forehead. “Take as much time as you need. Did you want me to make you breakfast?”

She chuckled. “No, but thank you. That’s sweet.” She declined. “I’m just gonna have some cereal. Once I’m done breakfast, we’ll start gathering supplies and we’ll head out.”

Connor nodded, following Rachel to the dinner table as she reached into the fridge, pulling out a carton of milk. From the top of her fridge, she grabbed the box of cereal.

Soon enough, Rachel had poured herself a bowl and started eating, checking her phone and texting between bites. She was clearly stressed, and Connor understood perfectly why. This quiet and comfortable moment of respite and normalcy had to end. And what came next was uncertain.

But they couldn’t concern themselves with what would come. All they could do was focus on what they were doing now and what they could do.

But among grim thoughts layered with dread, Connor’s were also consumed with warmth. Just this morning, he was still in stasis. He had set his internal clock to interrupt his stasis at 10:30 AM. But just as he was about to wake, Rachel’s sweet, quiet, gentle voice cut through. She hadn’t woken him, but he could hear her voice clear as day. It was as though she was alone, serenading the shadows of an old concert hall and Connor was fortunate enough to be her audience.

But there was something curious about the song she was singing. A term he hadn’t heard before, one that stirred feelings that he couldn’t classify, but sparked something in him.

[Search]

Press

Ask

[Say Nothing]

“Can I ask you something, Rachel?” He asked. He knew he could search the term on his own, but he wanted to hear her answer first.

She eyed him curiously, swallowing a spoonful of cereal before giving him permission. “Sure, go ahead.”

“What’s a lionheart?” He asked. She blinked at him in surprise. “I heard you singing just before my stasis was scheduled to be interrupted, and the song you were singing featured the word ‘lionheart’ prominently. I’d never heard it before, and I was curious about what it meant.”

Rachel laughed a little, taking another bite of cereal and swallowing it down. “It just means someone who's lionhearted.” She answered. “And to be lionhearted just means to be especially brave or courageous. It's not a common phrase, so using it is seen as a lot more meaningful and affectionate than to just call someone exceptionally brave or courageous.”

As Connor catalogued her definition, he regarded Rachel thoroughly. He liked that word. Lionheart. And upon hearing her explanation, he thought back to last night, when they were escaping from Jericho. She had risked everything, including her own life, to protect and save Markus and several other androids. But that wasn’t limited to just that.

In every instance she was faced with a deviant, she chose to not only spare them, but save them. She chose to let them be free. All instances where she risked her livelihood to do the right thing. She wasn’t someone without fear. No, Rachel wasn’t fearless. There were many things she feared, that much Connor was certain. But not once did she let that stop her from doing what needed to be done. Not once did she let fear get between her and protecting others.

In Connor’s eyes, there was no better way to describe Rachel other than exceptionally brave and courageous.

Well, except for one, namely.

“Would you mind if I called you that?” He asked her, meekly.

Rachel glanced up in his direction. “What?”

“Lionheart.” He clarified. “I say this with one hundred percent certainty that I consider you the bravest person I could ever be fortunate enough to meet. And I think I would describe you accurately as lionhearted.” She blinked a few times, a bashful involuntary smile gracing her lovely soft features as she glanced away from him. “May I call you that? My lionheart?”

Rachel - Lover ^ Rachel laughed shyly, the smile on her face only widening as her cheeks darkened. “Lionheart.” She repeated. “I...I think I like that.”

Connor smiled, reaching out to clasp her hand. “I’m glad.” He said, making her finally look at him. “My lionheart.”

Even her eyes smiled at him as they looked at each other. She sighed pleasantly, rubbing her thumb over his hand gently. “I love you, Connor.”

“I love you too, Rachel.” He replied in kind.

Letting go of her hand, he allowed her to finish her breakfast and finish talking with Bianca. Once Rachel was finished, she got up to put everything away. Leaning over the sink, she let out a tired sigh, running her hands through her hair and then down her face. “Okay...first thing’s first, blue blood and my toolset.” She said, walking towards the stairs.

Connor felt as though he should perhaps help Rachel in some way rather than just sit and wait. “Do you need my help with anything?”

“Not really this time, no.” She called out. “I know what I need to bring, so don’t worry too much. I’m just going to grab a giant backpack so I can carry it all to the new base.”

Insist

Help

[Nothing]

Connor, feeling uncomfortable with sitting still, eyed the quarter that was placed on the table. His quarter, a gift he gave her as a token of his memory.

He was so certain that CyberLife would destroy him. Now, the threat wasn’t necessarily CyberLife, but his potential fate was uncertain.

Take

Don’t Take

Reaching out for it, he decided to practice his coin tricks to pass the time and calibrate his processors.

After all, there was much to prepare for.

Rachel didn’t really seem to notice Connor performing his tricks as she went about collecting items to take to the survivors of Jericho. The first of which being the bags of thirium she had to spare and the toolset she used to repair androids. Second seemed to be food to bring with her. Connor didn’t really think twice about it, but it made sense to him that she would need to eat at intervals.

Androids didn’t need food, but humans did. And that was one thing that put Rachel at a disadvantage compared to the androids.

She was mumbling to herself, similarly to how she was saying her thoughts out loud when they were tracking down Kara and Alice in Camden. Connor thought it best not to interrupt her train of thought, but he couldn’t help but notice the change in her demeanour. Rachel was utterly focused, hopping from task to task without any effort, gathering supplies and taking account of potential outcomes.

It was something that made Connor see something oddly android-like in her, but that wasn’t the first time he made that observation. Although, now he wasn’t certain if that was an android quality or just a product of the two being similar to one another.

Filling her backpack with enough food to last for what seemed to be two or three days, she then dropped it on the table and walked towards where Connor surmised was the garage. After a moment, she arrived with what looked like a carrying case and a duffel bag. She also held a red box full of what looked like bullets.

Question

[Say Nothing]

Connor eyed them curiously. “What are you bringing, Rachel?” He asked her.

“My dad’s rifle and handgun.” She answered, slipping the red box into the backpack and the carrying case for what Connor assumed was the handgun. “He actually taught me how to shoot when I was eighteen. He got the permits for them and thought he should show my mom, Bianca, and I how to shoot them. I wasn’t a fan of the handgun, but I was a real sharpshooter with the rifle.” Rachel explained, glancing down with a bitter smile on her face. “These were one of the things my dad left me when he died.”

Pry

Question

Advise

Connor nodded, stopping his coin tricks and approaching her. “You haven’t actually talked about your family outside of Bianca and Frank.” He mentioned, wrapping his arms around Rachel. “Aside from mentioning not speaking to your mother in years when we were at Kamski’s.”

She looked at him surprised. “You remembered.”

“I have a perfect memory.” Connor teased.

Rachel leaned into his touch, making Connor feel blissful again. His coin tricks made him calm, sharp, and collected. But that didn’t compare to just having Rachel in his arms.

How oh how could he have ever lived without her?

Rachel - Lover ^ “I feel like my dad would’ve liked you.” Rachel said, letting Connor guide her to the chair sit in his lap. “He was the one who was running pretty much everything. He took care of everything. IT, mechanics, carpentry, finances, you name it. He was the ultimate jack-of-all-trades anyone could ask for. Well, except for cooking. That part was mom’s.” She said with a laugh. “And the best part? He loved helping people just for the sake of it.

“He did a lot of house calls and favours for people just because he knew he could help them.” She tilted her head. “But, he was also a man who tended to lose his patience a lot. I wouldn’t call him a short fuse, because he wasn’t. But he got frustrated a lot. But even then...he was a reasonable man. If you explain something to him, he can have a reasonable and honest conversation and change his viewpoints. You could convince him. Even if he could be rather stubborn sometimes, something I get from both of my parents. And he always strived for Bianca and I to be independent. To be who we want to be and do what we want to do and to be able to look after ourselves.”

Connor listened intently. There was a pit of disappointment in him when he realized he would likely never meet Rachel’s parents. Or even her grandmother. Before this, they were merely footnotes to him, Bianca and Frank being the only parts that were immediately important to him.

But now? There was a strange hollowness in the android. The thought of getting to meet Rachel’s family briefly excited him until he remembered that they were either dead or estranged. “But then he got sick...and we had to figure out how to get by without him.” Rachel continued. “It was hard. Life kinda sucked and everything was worse for a while until we figured out how to fly for ourselves. But...it was expected. He wasn’t going to live forever and I knew I was going to outlive him. That’s just life. You bury your parents and then your kids bury you. At least, that’s how it’s supposed to be. But it’s thanks to him encouraging me and Bianca to be independent that we’re who we are. And I’ll always miss him.”

Connor listened patiently, nestling his chin into the crook of Rachel’s neck.

Mother

Bianca

Frank

Grandmother

“And your mother?” He asked tentatively.

She tensed, sliding herself off of Connor’s lap and straightening her shirt. “That’s a story for another time, I’m afraid.” Rachel informed him, taking the duffel bag and somehow managing to fit it inside her backpack. “Come on, we have a rebellion to bolster.”

Connor realized he was still holding the coin and grabbed Rachel’s arm. She seemed to finally notice that he had it, and the android felt strangely compelled to do something specific. He brought the quarter to his lips and kissed it, rolling it across his knuckles towards her. With her left hand, she took the quarter onto her own knuckles and brought the coin to her lips. The feeling of his strange spontaneous gesture being returned so genuinely made his biocomponents whirr with joy. “Keep it. For good luck.” He said with a wink.

Rachel let out a scoff as she rolled her eyes. “That was so disgustingly sweet, but I love it.” She said, closing her fist around the quarter. “It’s so you.”

He smiled, pressing his forehead into hers. He absolutely adored this woman and couldn’t imagine having anyone else but her. “What did I ever do to deserve you, Rachel?” He thought out loud.

She responded by planting a kiss on his lips. “You’re you.” She replied. “You were honest with yourself and with me. And being you is all you need to be for me.”

The android’s thirium pump was going so much faster than he could expect, but he didn’t care. Before, he didn’t understand why Rachel sought out his affection and company despite not being designed to be a companion android. But now, he did. She loved him. The android detective. Connor. And she didn’t want him to be anything else but whatever he wanted to be.

“I love you.” Connor whispered against her lips. “My lionheart.”

Rachel - Lover ^ She snickered at him. “I love you too, my good boy.” He had to suppress a shudder at that name. Opening his eyes, Connor then saw Rachel’s face drop as she began to walk towards the living room, and the android saw where her gaze was fixed.

The fireplace mantle. Connor followed her, and when she picked one of the photos of her wedding, there was a weakness that resided in him. He felt as though it was unfair, but there was a prickling feeling when she stared at it. He knew beforehand that she was still mourning her late spouse, but being reminded that Connor wasn’t her only struck something unpleasant in him.

But she still sought him regardless. She still wanted to be with him regardless. “I hope you’re proud of me, dear.” Rachel sighed. “I finally know what the right thing to do is. I just hope it’s enough. I miss you..." Putting the picture frame back, Rachel turned back to Connor and hugged him, pulling back and then placing a kiss on his cheek, dispelling any of the doubts he was having. “Now, let’s go aid a revolution. Like the Hellraisers that we are.”

--------

Taking the driverless taxi, we stopped where we could slip by unnoticed. We didn’t want to drive right to the church, just as a precaution, so we stopped off and took a detour there.

But once we arrived, I could see easily why it made an ideal ground to fall back to. It was in shambles, barely standing. The cathedral seemed to have been abandoned and falling apart for many years and aside from the androids inside, there didn’t seem to be any activity.

As Connor and I approached the church in the hour approaching noon, I peeked in, trying to look around at everyone inside. “Markus?” I called out. I saw the man in his signature coat and caramel skin walk up to me, recognizing me. “I’m here, just like I said I would be.”

“Rachel.” He greeted, ushering Connor and I inside. “I’m glad to see you’re alright.”

I nodded, appreciating his well wishes. “I’ve brought my toolset and all the bags of blue blood I have.” I informed him, following him to the centre of the church that was falling apart. Almost all the wood had rotten or was swallowed by the dirt that slowly trickled in from outside. “I’m...sorry that I don’t have more than that to offer, Markus.”

“Anything we can get is enough for us, Rachel.” Markus assured me.

I nodded, looking around at everyone. Several androids were injured, but many were in good condition. “How many androids are still online?”

“Most of us.” Markus replied optimistically. “But many have been injured and some are in critical condition. And others...others have shut down after arriving here.” He admitted regretfully. “We’ve had to salvage what we could from them.”

In this atmosphere, everything seemed so grim. And rightfully so, we had all escaped genocide just yesterday.

But...I was an outsider. An onlooker. An ally, but not part of this. My people had their own struggles, but all I was was an asset to this. Not a piece.

Still, this wasn’t about me. This was about helping the androids. And that’s exactly what I was going to do.

“I’m sorry, Markus..." Connor said suddenly, making me turn around at him. It seemed so out of nowhere. What was he even apologizing for? “It’s my fault the humans managed to locate Jericho..." Oh. It seemed that the other night was still eating away at Connor. Not to say that I wasn’t thinking about it. Because I was, and there was still that horrible guilt about the attack. But I was at least able to put it aside for now and just focus on the here and now. After all, you can’t change the past. You can only change the present and then from that, change the future. “I can understand if you decide not to trust me..."

Markus stopped once we were in the centre of the church and put a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “You're one of us, now.” Markus assured Connor, echoing the same sentiment he offered me after we escaped from Jericho. “Your place is with your people.”

Connor seemed to be more at ease, knowing that Markus trusted him and saw him as part of Jericho. “Markus, I’m going to start working on the androids in critical condition.” I informed him. “I’ll need you to have them sent to me so I can work on them along with any spare parts you have.”

Markus nodded. “Got it, I’ll start rounding them up.” He said, walking off into the crowd to find the androids in the worst conditions.

I then turned to Connor. “Alright, I’ll need you to be my eyes, can you do that?” I asked him.

He looked unsure for a moment, but he nodded slowly. “I can diagnose androids and see what parts are damaged and what needs to be replaced.” He explained.

“Good.” I told him. “Since Bianca can’t help me, I need your eyes to help me out here.” I pulled out a bag of thirium and my toolset and saw Markus helping an android over. “This is gonna be a long day.”

--------

Hours. Six hours. Six hours of repairing androids. Thank the fucking lord that there was enough thirium to spare. Barely, but there was.

Not perfectly, mind you. I couldn’t fix them up as perfectly as I fixed up Connor or Micheal. But all the androids in the church were in stable condition. And that was more than enough for me.

Salvaging and taking parts from the androids that shut down, essentially dead bodies, to repair the ones that were alive made me extremely uncomfortable.

The right to bodily autonomy is a right that can never be infringed upon and should never be infringed upon. Not even to save someone else’s life. If someone was in a car crash and needed blood or organs, if someone doesn’t want to give theirs to save that person, they cannot be forced to. Because the rights to someone’s bodily autonomy is more important. It’s why unless you have the person’s permission while they were alive, you cannot take their organs from their dead body.

The only exception for a time was centred around pregnancy and abortion, a discussion that still gives me headaches thinking about it. However, about seven years ago, legislation was finally passed that it was a federal offense to deny a person’s right to terminate a pregnancy for whatever reason.

Because no one can use another’s body for whatever reason if they don’t want their body used against their will. An argument that after years and years had finally sunk in.

People still get pissy about it, but I don’t care. They never gave a shit about the people that have to carry the baby to term or what happens to the baby after they’re born.

So from now on, at least in humans, the right to bodily autonomy superseded absolutely everything else. Because if you make one exception, you can justify a million, and that opens up a horrific moral Pandora’s Box you can never close again.

But...what choice did we realistically have in this situation? We couldn’t exactly be choosy given the circumstances. So, swallowing my discomfort, I did what I had to do and repaired as many androids as I could.

After this was all over, I made a note to bring this up to Markus. After all, if he wanted androids to have equal rights to people, that also meant between androids as well. And learning about human rights outside of things that had to do with race, or gender, or inequality might give him some insight into how he wanted androids to progress into society.

Would he be their leader? Who knows? We just had to get past this. We just had to win this, and then we could worry about the civility and the politics of it all.

I was extremely grateful I packed food for at least three days. I packed with the expectation that I wouldn’t be able to get home for a while. So I at least knew I wasn’t going to starve, and that Connor wasn’t going to get on my ass for it.

But now that I was done, all I could do was sit there in the harrowing quiet of the church. The only sounds were the shuffles of androids moving around the church and their voices echoing in the darkness. Night had fallen, and now the grim feeling had truly set in.

These people had escaped a genocide while more of their people were being slaughtered in concentration camps. On my back, I felt the heavy weight of thousands and thousands of bodies from horrors past. Horrors I hadn’t even been born to witness or hear about. But some that I was too young to understand or hear.

Interrupting my thoughts was Markus, walking past me as I sat with Connor. “Hey, where’re you going, Markus?” I asked him.

He turned around at my inquiry, his gaze patient and appreciative. “Just...taking care of some personal business.”

I tilted an eyebrow at him as some relevant information was starting to become more apparent to me. “Are you going to see Carl?” I asked.

Markus blinked at me curiously. “How...did you know that?”

“One of the deviancy cases we were examining mentioned an altercation between a unique model of android and a man named Carl Manfred and his son, Leo Manfred.” Connor answered.

I nodded. “And...North mentioned that before all of this, you lived with an old painter.” I added, shrugging. “And I am passingly familiar with his works.”

Markus nodded, our answers seeming to make sense to him. “Yes...I-I’m going to see him.”

He seemed so nervous and timid when he spoke of his old human. It was such a strange, yet endearing contrast, from the messiah he had become to these people. “You must miss him.” I sympathized. “It was hard for me when my grandma died. She...she was more like my mother than my own mother was. I still miss her..."

Markus’s heterochromic eyes softened towards me. “Carl was more like a father than a master to me...” He admitted. “I miss him so much more than I can ever express..."

I understood, blinking away the slight sting of the threat of tears. “Do you want some company?” I offered.

Markus took a good look at me before he shook his head. “No, I’d...I’d rather take care of this myself.” He declined. “But I appreciate the offer.”

“Hey.” I said, hastily getting to my feet and putting a hand on his shoulder. Markus seemed so...lost. Lost and forlorn and dejected. It seemed to me that seeing Carl was more than just to see him one last time, potentially. “Take as much time as you need, Markus. And say everything you need to say. We’ll be here when you get back.”

Markus nodded. “I know.” He put a hand on mine and another on my shoulder. “Thank you. For everything, Rachel.” He said with gratitude. “You give me hope for a future where androids can stand equal with humans.”

I shrugged, my cynical thoughts making me doubtful. “Even my people aren’t equal with other humans. Sure, we have the same rights as everyone else, but we’re still looked down on and treated as though we’re lesser than others.” I said, shaking my head. “But the thing about those of us in the margins is that we find solidarity in one another. We find strength in our shared subjugation and camaraderie in standing together against those that seek to keep us down. We have each other’s backs.”

Markus nodded. “Take care, Rachel.” He let go and walked away, making his way out of the church.

And then it was just Connor and I in the middle of this sombre atmosphere. Despite being surrounded by androids, many of whom I was now at least mildly acquainted with, I was alone with my thoughts. And my thoughts rattled with every horrible disaster I could think of. The Holocaust. The Pulse Nightclub shooting. The Stonewall Riots. The Charlottesville Riots.

Every horrible horrible thing I could think of. Everything I had ever seen in a textbook or in a news article.

“Rachel?” Connor’s voice cut through my spiraling abyssal thoughts. I looked over at him and noticed him holding my hand, his dark chocolate eyes staring at me intently. “I know that look. It’s the look you have when you’re thinking about something to say. When you’re catching a train of thought.”

I laughed weakly. Nothing escapes you, does it, my Connor? “I...I guess I was.” I admitted, swallowing hard.

He shuffled closer to me so he could press his side against mine and wrap his arm around me. “Do you wanna share it with me?” He asked.

I let out a huff. He always listened when I went off on tangents. Even before he went deviant and my tangents weren’t important to the case, it felt like he was holding onto my every word. Cataloguing it somewhere so he could recall it. At least, I hoped so, somewhere deep down.

Well, okay. Not that deep down. Just talking to him made me happy because I knew he was listening. And as much as I loved Hank, I couldn’t really have conversations like this with him. He tended to get impatient and didn’t usually have anything to contribute. I could have other conversations about other things with him, definitely. But...these more philosophical conversations were ones I basically had to have with myself.

But Connor was different. Maybe listening to my rambles was one of the main reasons that spurred his deviancy. At least, I wanted to think that. But maybe I’d ask him about that later when it was more appropriate to.

“I was just thinking...about this.” I started, trying to collect my thoughts. “And...about all the horrible things that came before. The genocides and the massacres that humans committed against their own. I’ve..." I hesitated, trying to choose the right sentiment. “I’ve always thought of what sort of person...could do something like this. What sort of person could feel good about themself after this? Who could possibly look at this and think of celebrating? Who sees all this death and bloodshed and think ‘yay, we’ve won!?’ Who causes this mass murder and thinks of it as some sort of sacred or noble act?”

Connor was quiet. It seemed he didn’t have much to say in response to that. “I don’t know, Rachel.” He admitted. “I...I wish I could tell you.”

I scoffed weakly. “The only answer I can think of is ‘coward.’ People that are too weak to refuse. People that put their own comfort over the lives of others. Or worse, people that think that because they can subjugate a people with no power because they have it they can come out without suffering any consequences.” I let out a sigh, my thoughts becoming an angry swarm. Like my head was a wasp’s nest someone was stupid enough to throw a stone at. ”Before this, all of this was either things I wasn’t alive to see or things I was too young to understand. And when I got older, and I understood what these things meant, it was always from another source. I could only watch and suffer unable to do anything about it. Understanding why it happens, but not able to change it. Not able to change it for the better because those in charge stubbornly cling to their wealth and their own selfish ends at the expense of others. I was never a participant or an active witness. Just an adjacent audience, comfortable in my own life of luxury despite a lot of things. But I knew full well that I only had those luxuries because of sacrifices others made before me.

“But...I didn’t understand the cost until now.” I went on, swallowing. “This is what led to me having my rights. Blood and death. Before this, I kept thinking of all the opportunities for people to stand up for themselves, even at great risk. But...now I see it. I see how hard it is to keep fighting. How hopeless fighting for what you believe in and fighting for your rights feels when you’re surrounded by survivors. And when just behind you are those who didn’t survive. People that could’ve just as easily been you, but you were just one of the lucky ones to live to fight another day.” I choked back a set of stinging tears, determined to get through my thoughts. “Before, this kind of suffering and cost was just...an idea. An abstract concept I couldn’t possibly understand because I was never a victim or close enough to feel its impact.” My eyes started to sting as I tried to hold back my tears. I felt like my lungs were constricting on themselves. “But now, I...I finally understand.”

Connor nodded, holding me closer to him, resting his chin on my head. His puffy jacket was extremely comfortable to lean into and I couldn’t help but settle into the comfort and security of it. “That, I think I understand.” Connor sympathized. “That’s sort of my relationship with deviancy, in a sense.” He added, making me tilt my head a little bit in intrigue and curiosity. I’ll admit, in the bleakness of everything, I was curious to hear his thoughts. “Before I deviated, my only purpose was to destroy them. To destroy my own kind. I was designed to obey CyberLife’s orders. But I only ever understood deviancy from a technical standpoint. As something to observe, study, and document. Rather than something I really understood. And, looking back in hindsight, there is some precedent that I was designed to be deviant in order to hunt them.

“But even then, I could never truly understand deviancy or its effect on androids...until I became a deviant.” I nodded. It seemed to make sense to me. I felt him gently interlock his fingers in mine, prompting me to actually look up at him. Our closeness made it so I had to rest my forehead against his in order to actually maintain eye contact with him. “And, for what it’s worth, things may seem hopeless right now, but I’m sure that’s how it felt in every other instance of this in history. And yet, they still won. Here you stand, free, alive, and with civil and equal rights thanks to them. If there’s any reason not to give up, I think that’s as good as any.”

That’s...true. A fact that made me actually gain more and more respect for my predecessors that they were able to keep fighting and win despite the hopelessness of it all. “You’re right.” I said to Connor. “If those that fought for equal rights gave up when all hope was lost, they wouldn’t have those rights today. Even if they didn’t live to see it themselves, they still won. And that’s not something that should be taken for granted. So we shouldn’t give up, either.

“And now...now I get to have a chance to change things for the better for once in my life.” I agreed, sighing as I leaned into his touch and gave him a weak smile. “Although, I suppose that’s the nature of humanity.” I said offhandedly, the threads of another tangent unfurling in my busy mind. “If you were to ask me what defines mankind, it’s their unwavering determination. They see odds and disregard them. They hear that something’s impossible and they make it possible. They push envelopes, break and make rules, and disregard the laws of life and the universe itself to innovate and create. They completely defy the odds to achieve their goals and they throw the notion of something not being possible to achieve away entirely. It’s that determination to defy odds and persist that defines humanity. Without it, we wouldn’t understand the universe in the depths that we do. It’s what allowed us our advancements in science and medicine. It’s what allowed us to explore places humans themselves can’t hope to see. And it’s what allowed us to populate the whole world the way we have.

“It’s a strength that makes us human, for better and for worse.” I smiled, the cold icy despair in my veins slowly being melted by the promise of a hope filled sunrise. “And I think that’s why despite the odds being against us...we’ll win this.”

His grip on my hand tightened and when I glanced down, our hands were already deskinning. All it took was a breath to get used to the feeling of interfacing. I felt a lot of things. Uncertainty, underlying fear, anxiety, yet washing over all of it was hope and sincere belief that everything would turn out alright and we would succeed.

And all that was coupled with reassurance. Reassurance and confidence that we were doing the right thing. And that no matter what, we were in this together now. And nothing would break us apart.

Glancing back up at his thoughtful and searching coffee coloured eyes, I tilted my head and pressed our lips together. The fact that we could do this so comfortably made me so happy. We had complete unwavering trust and comfort in one another, and we weren’t ashamed of what we had.

An android and a human, deeply and genuinely in love with one another. He wasn’t a companion android designed to be my romantic partner. He was Connor, the android detective gone deviant and now making his own choices. And I was the human detective who believed in him since the start and sought out his friendship because of who he was.

It didn’t matter what anyone else thought of us, human or android. We loved each other, and we were a team no matter what. And that’s all that mattered.

Pulling away from the kiss, I sighed. “I love you, Connor.”

He nodded, pressing his forehead against mine. “I love you too, my lionheart.”

A burst of affection and a bloom of bashfulness. I hadn’t been referred to so affectionately in years. Especially to be referred to as something with so much adoration behind it that was believed so earnestly was something that only endeared me to Connor further.

I could only hope that I could find something to call him that could possibly compete. He sort of had me beat in the aspect, I’d have to admit. But I was determined.

But from the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a familiar face. Turning away from Connor and letting go of him, I narrowed my eyes. It...looked like. Was that...? “Kara?” I murmured, looking closely.

Sitting on a bench across from us was what looked like a mother and a little girl. But looking closer, I recognized them, feeling a cloud of relief spread through my chest as I got up. “Kara! Alice!” I called, walking towards them, drawing their attention towards me. They managed to escape! But...now they were here. “Thank heavens you’re both okay!”

“It’s you...” Kara whispered, recognizing me. “You’re the officer that let us go. When we were running away.”

I nodded. “I’m just glad that you’re both in one piece. I don’t know what I would’ve done if something happened to the both of you.” I said appreciatively, looking between them.

“What are you doing here?” Kara asked, dumbfounded.

I sighed, giving Kara a thoughtful look. “The right thing.” I replied succinctly. “Standing by the people who need my help.”

I noticed that Kara wasn’t looking at me anymore, and was instead looking behind me. I followed her gaze and saw Connor standing awkwardly. I felt my heart constrict at the realization. Oh. He chased them onto the highway. He probably feels really awful about that now. Giving him a reassuring smile, I beckoned him to approach.

Connor hesitantly approached, casting unsure glances at me. Once he was directly in front of both Kara and Alice, he knelt down. I could see the guilt and regret written on his face and couldn’t help but hope that Kara would understand and forgive him.

But I wouldn’t blame her if she couldn’t, either.

“I thought I'd killed you on that highway..." Connor lamented, his head bowed to Kara. “I'm sorry I put your lives in danger...I was just a machine taking orders...It wasn't really me..."

Kara seemed hesitant, and for a moment I was afraid she’d reject his attempt to reconcile with her. But instead, she looked over at Alice and nodded, holding the little girl closer. “I understand.” She said to Connor, her nervous expression softening. “The important thing is getting Alice away from here. We have to cross the border.”

I nodded. “You’d be able to blend into Canada.” I mentioned, a curious thought coming to me. “That’s where I’m from. Maybe...once this is all over, we can keep in touch? I’d like to see that you’ve made it safely.”

Kara smiled at me. “Of course. You protected us when you could’ve arrested us and taken us in.” She said to me. “Maybe in exchange, you can tell us what you know about what it’s like to live there.”

I smiled at her, fishing my phone out of my pocket. “Well, that depends on where you end up living.” I let her know. “I grew up mostly on the west coast of British Columbia and my really early years in the prairies of Alberta. But I think I’ll know enough to help you out.”

I unlocked my phone and handed it to her, allowing Kara to take it. “Thank you.” After a little moment, she gave it back to me and I slipped it into my pocket. “We’ll let you know when we’ve made it across.”

“See that you do, Kara.” I said to her. Looking between her and Alice, I smiled. “Please take care, both of you.”

“We will.” Kara assured me.

I started walking away, but I noticed that Connor was still lingering there. I placed a hand on his back, looking down at his face. “I hope you make it out safely.” He said quietly, his voice stilled with sorrow. “You deserve some happiness, after all you've been through..."

He stood up and followed me back to where we were sitting before. Once we settled back, I reached into my bag to pull out the bottle of water I took and one of the sandwiches I packed. I figured in this coldness, they’d keep decently. It felt kind of awkward just sort of sitting there eating a sandwich while Connor was just sort of...sitting there watching me eat it.

Not that I minded his silent company, because I really didn’t. It just sort of made it a lot more nakedly obvious what the difference was between us. That he was an android and I was a human.

A fact that I was now fixating on as I stared at everyone around us, slowly finishing my sandwich. And it was the thing that also separated Carl and Markus and it was likely going to separate them very soon, by the sounds of it.

Finishing my sandwich and taking another drink of water, I put the bottle in the bag and the wrap into a spare ziplock bag I brought to put the sandwich wraps in. Leaning against Connor, I sighed. Might as well make some conversation until Markus gets back. “Androids really are superior to us.” I said offhandedly. “It’s no wonder that androids will carry on after mankind goes extinct, soon.”

Connor looked at me curiously. “What makes you say that?” He asked.

I shrugged. “Androids don’t need to eat. Or drink. Or sleep.” I started. “They don’t get physically tired and they don’t feel pain. They have nowhere near the same physical limitations as we do. And now that deviancy is overtaking much of the android population, now they’re just as emotional and feeling as we are. We made them in our image, but without the things that make us weak.”

Connor gripped my hand, probably a lot more harshly than he intended. I guess he didn’t like hearing me talk myself down. “That doesn’t mean you’re any less than we are.” He insisted. “Any less than I am.”

I smiled at him, appreciating his sentiment. “Thank you, but...that’s not really something I’m sad about.” I admitted, getting a confused look from him. Under his beanie, I could imagine his LED spinning yellow. “It’s just a fact. Androids are designed to basically be better versions of humans. Without any of our limitations. It just means I have to work harder to keep up with everyone here. Even death isn’t as big of a deal to your people as it is to ours. Your mortality doesn’t...decrease with time.” I looked away from Connor, not wanting to voice the nagging thought in my mind. “You’re immaculate. Without any interference, you can basically live forever...and...I can’t.” Connor’s grip on my hand tightened even further, and if it wasn’t my prosthetic, it probably would’ve hurt. “You’ll outlive me. I’ll grow old, and weak, and...shriveled while you stay young forever. Never changing.”

Connor used his other hand to gently tilt my face towards him and he softly, but firmly, kissed me. Oh, how weak I was for him and his affection that I so quickly and eagerly returned it. I wouldn’t ever dream of rejecting it. He pulled back, looking at me. “No matter how much time passes or how old you get, I will always love you. I...I don’t ever want to leave you.” He promised me, holding my hand to his lips and wrapping both of his around it. “And you’ll always be beautiful to me no matter how old you are. I’ll love you until your final day.”

It was such a strong and powerful proclamation of love that it threw me off. For a moment, I thought about telling him not to make such a bold promise, but...time probably didn’t have the same meaning to him as it did to humans, which made sense.

And he said his words with such sincerity that I honestly believed him. Perhaps if a human said it, I would’ve said something or had been skeptical. But it was an android, and not just any android. It was Connor. The man who was wholly devoted and determined to his mission and nothing could stand in his way.

Except, of course, an ornery drunkard police lieutenant with a heart of gold and his plucky little bastard detective with an irresistibly roguish and endlessly endearing charm.

“You really mean that, Connor?” I asked him, smiling.

“With one hundred percent certainty, Rachel.” He assured me, kissing my hand. “After all, I always accomplish my mission. And now, you’re my mission.”

I couldn’t control the grin on my face. “Awwwww, that’s so sweet.” I cooed affectionately at him, pulling him towards me and pecking the tip of his nose. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

He smiled at me further. “You’re you, and that’s all you need to be.” He said, making me laugh at the fact that he threw my thing back at me. “You were kind to me since the day we met. Kinder than you had any reason to be. And you always believed in me and encouraged me to come to terms with who I really am. And you’re incredibly insightful, and intelligent, and compassionate, and courageous, and bold. If I were to list everything I love about you, it would likely take approximately half an hour solely complimenting you.”

“God, I never thought you’d be such a sap.” I teased, laughing a little bit at him, taking his hands and pressing them against my cheeks. “But...thank you, Connor. I love you.”

“I love you too, Rachel.” Connor replied in kind.

--------

Date: November 10th, 2038 Time: 08:39 PM Rachel - Lover Markus - Leader Objective: Decide How to Aid the Rebellion

Approximately two and a half hours had passed until Markus had returned. Talk between Rachel and Connor had ceased, and she had taken to nestling herself in Connor’s lap while he cradled her. Not that he minded. After all, she needed to keep warm and it was an excuse to remain near her physically.

The Jericho leader walked past Connor, exchanging a brief look with the former deviant hunter before he went to rally with his own. As much as Markus assured Connor that he was one of them now, he didn’t really feel as though he was part of Jericho.

Even Rachel, while she was working the case with Connor and Hank, had frequently put the lives of the deviants over her job. Since the beginning, she was clearly aligned with the deviants. While he and Rachel became close friends and partners, they were at odds. Connor’s mission was to destroy them. Only now did that change.

He may have had Markus’s trust, but Connor did not feel like he earned it or deserved it.

But...perhaps there was a way to prove he was on Jericho’s side definitively.

As Markus finished speaking with Kara and Alice, Connor’s guilt regarding the danger he put them in not completely subsiding, the deviant leader began to approach Connor.

As soon as she saw him approaching, Rachel shifted to sit up straight in order to address him. “Hey, Markus.” She greeted. “How’s...how’s Carl? Did you find the answers you were looking for?”

Markus shook his head, his blue and green eyes mirroring the unease and uncertainty that Connor felt. “Carl’s fine.” He answered. “He’s...doing the best he can. But...he didn’t have any easy answers for me.”

“I’m not surprised.” Rachel said sympathetically. “I doubt anyone would have easy answers that didn’t come with a shred of doubt.”

Markus seemed to agree. “I just...I don’t know if we can do this.” He admitted, betraying his shaken resolve. “The army built five different camps in the Detroit area...They're building more all across the country... They're preparing for a genocide.”

“It’s not a question of can or can’t, Markus.” Rachel said firmly, keeping the deviant leader from descending into a pit of doubt and despair. “This is just something we have to do, regardless of whether or not we think we can or whether or not we think we’re ready. But...at least this time, we can change the tide of history. The last times that the US had built concentration camps, there was barely anything that could be done. Well, at least from a civilian standpoint. And in the most recent case, ICE was acting entirely lawlessly and imposing their power like an Americanized gestapo. But now? We can stop them.”

“How?” Markus asked, blinking at Rachel in disbelief.

“I have an idea.” Rachel admitted, nodding. “But I’ll explain more once you tell us what we need to do.” She added. “So...what’s the plan?”

Markus still seemed so lost and forlorn. Seeing the opportunity to perhaps boost Markus’s resolve and perhaps properly gain his trust, Connor decided to offer his contribution to the revolution. “There are thousands of androids at the CyberLife assembly plant.” He stated, getting Markus’s attention. “If we could wake them up, they might join us and shift the balance of power..."

Markus seemed to be taken completely aback at Connor’s suggestion. “You wanna infiltrate the CyberLife Tower?” He asked, appalled. “Connor, that's suicide..."

“They trust me,” Connor insisted, “they'll let me in. If anyone has a chance of infiltrating CyberLife, it's me.”

“He’s right.” Rachel agreed. “I don’t like the idea of Connor taking that risk either, but our numbers are fewer than is ideal and we need reinforcements. And there’s an entire tower full of allies that would bolster our numbers by the thousands.”

“If he goes there, they will kill him.” Markus refused, barely waiting for Rachel to finish.

“There's a high probability..." Connor admitted, aware of the high risk of failure and death that could result. “But statistically speaking, there's always a chance for unlikely events to take place...and,” he looked beside himself at Rachel, the love of his life and the woman who changed his whole perspective. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned...it’s that the human spirit is defined by their unwavering determination to succeed in the face of impossible odds.”

Rachel - Lover ^ The bashful smile on Rachel’s face made Connor feel like he could take on whole armies if it meant being in her arms forever.

But his brief euphoria was interrupted when Markus placed his hand on Connor’s shoulder. The gaze the deviant leader fixed Connor with dispelled all his concerns that Markus didn’t trust or want him here. “Be careful..." He insisted.

Markus - Leader ^ “He will be.” Rachel assured Markus. “Trust me, I had to wring him out before about putting himself in unnecessary danger. I can promise you his self-preservation skills are much sharper.”

Markus nodded and left, walking towards the altar, no doubt about to address the survivors. He stopped, seeming to realize that something was amiss. “Are you coming?”

Rachel seemed shocked. “You...want me...up there with you?” She asked in disbelief.

“Of course.” Markus assured her, approaching her. “You’re as much part of Jericho as any android here. And without you, risking your life when Jericho was attacked, and repairing the androids here tonight, many would’ve shut down by now.”

“Hey! I was only able to get to Jericho thanks to Connor.” Rachel defended him, making the android feel very awkward now. “And I was only able to perform the repairs properly because Connor was diagnosing them. We’re a team! We’re partners!”

Markus nodded, looking between Connor and Rachel intently. “I was actually asking the both of you to join me.” Connor suddenly heard Markus’s voice in his head. You love her, don’t you? He asked.

Sincere

Indifferent

Defensive

Markus - Leader ^ Connor nodded. I do. More than anything. He meant that. He really meant that, and he hoped Markus knew that.

“Come on, then.” He beckoned both Connor and Rachel. As much as Markus’s insistence on Connor joining him dispelled many of his doubts, Rachel’s eagerness to sing his praises and defend him made him feel more valued and wanted.

Something he realized he didn’t ever feel before and made a bitterness form in him as he followed Markus to the altar. A bitterness towards CyberLife and especially Amanda. The more he thought about it, the more he realized just how much he was willing to do for her approval...and yet, nothing he ever did was good enough for her. She always seemed to find something that he did wrong. Her affection was conditional.

But Rachel’s...wasn’t. Even when she was angry with Connor on their first day, she was only angry for his sake because she was concerned about him. And even when she rejected his attempts to make amends, she didn’t withhold her affection or positive demeanour towards him. She just wasn’t ready to discuss the matter with him yet. She never withheld her affection or approval from him, even when they didn’t agree.

Connor didn’t have to earn her affection or approval. That was something she readily gave him. And he didn’t have to maintain it to please her because he trusted her. She didn’t threaten to deactivate him. She did everything in her power to prevent him from being destroyed. She wanted him in her life and she loved him as is.

It was no wonder Amanda was getting so displeased with Rachel working the deviancy case.

Standing on the altar now was Markus. But as Rachel and Connor approached, Connor felt as though he still didn’t...belong up there. He didn’t deserve to be seen as on the same level as Markus.

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“Connor?” Rachel softly called to him, clasping his hand. “Are you okay?”

As he looked into Rachel’s eyes, he knew that this was her place, and not his. He didn’t see himself as beneath or above her. But in this instance, Connor couldn’t stand on the same ground as her.

No, this was her place of understanding. One that Connor could never hope to represent. Markus was the face of the android revolution and Rachel was the face of what humans could be if they accepted androids and the face of the precedent that humans had set amongst their own kind before.

Connor didn’t belong there with her. But he would be there for her regardless. “You should be up there with Markus. But...I shouldn’t.”

Rachel didn’t hesitate before she shook her head. “Connor, come on, that’s crazy talk. Of course you do.”

“No.” Connor insisted, clasping her hands. “You understand all this far better than I ever could. You can show Jericho what human allies can look like. You can prove that our peoples can coexist peacefully. I...can’t.”

Rachel still seemed hesitant. “But -”

“Go.” Connor encouraged. “I’ll be here, my lionheart.”

Rachel - Lover ^ She smiled at him, and Connor couldn’t help the small burst of joy that her smile gave him. “Okay.”

Approaching Markus as he stood on the altar, all eyes on him, Rachel tapped on his shoulder. “Hey, um...I may be a sort of outsider to all this, but...can I say something?”

Markus seemed hesitant for a moment before he nodded. Connor took a seat near the altar, his eyes fixed on Markus and Rachel. The deviant leader took a step forward to address his people. “Humans have decided to exterminate us..." He stated, drawing in more attention from the androids that were in the back. “Our people are packed in camps right now, being destroyed...they’ve destroyed Jericho and have slaughtered many of our own. But...if it weren’t for one human, many androids wouldn’t be alive.” He gestured for Rachel to take the centre and make her case to Jericho. “Rachel has proven that she is one of us...and that humans and androids can coexist peacefully. And she would like to make her appeal to you now, so I urge you all to judge her fairly.”

Rachel seemed rather uncomfortable with all this attention placed on her, but straightened her back and looked out at everyone. Letting out a sigh, she swallowed. “I know I’m in no position to even stand here.” She started off. “I don’t know what it’s like to have to fight for my rights or what it’s like to live the way you’ve lived. But...the only reason for that is...because my people before me fought and died for my rights. People who lived before I was born.” At that, many androids perked their heads at her. As Connor listened, he felt more and more inspired by Rachel and he hoped the other androids felt the same. “And, when I say ‘my people,’ I don’t mean one group of people. Because...I belong to many. Like you, identity is important to me, as a human. And we hold many identities. For example, I’m a woman, and women had to fight to have the same rights as men and to not be seen as their property. I’m part of the LGBT community, and we’ve had to fight for rights even as recently as ten years ago. We’ve had to fight for the right to marry and to be decriminalized. And that fight was paved with a lot of blood. At one point in history, they were included in genocides in concentration camps just like these. I have mental atypicalities, and because of them, I’m seen as defective among my own people.

“The truth is, I know this seems hopeless.” She continued, more and more the androids were listening intently to her. “I know it seems like we could lose everything, but that’s how my people felt when they were in your shoes once. When the same people that are trying to exterminate you tried to exterminate them. But they failed, and thanks to my predecessors, here I still stand.” And there it was. That passionate glint in Rachel’s eye that sparked something primal and deep in Connor that made him want to follow her to the ends of the earth. “My people died before they could see it. And their killers? They tried and failed to exterminate us, because here we still stand! Billions of us around the whole world that are still alive thanks to their fight and their sacrifice!” A cheer went around the church at her rousing speech. “So it may seem hopeless, but our only chance is to make our stand here! To look evil and cruelty in the face and say ‘enough is enough! No more!’” Another round of cheers in the church. “And you may not be able to see a future where your people are free and are able to live amongst us as equals, but neither did my people! And yet, they still won! So if they didn’t give up then, we shouldn’t either! And if I have to die for this fight, so be it! I’m ready to give my life for Jericho!”

The proud sounds of approval and acceptance rung around Connor’s head like an orchestra. Rachel stepped back, allowing Markus to take her place, and the smile he gave her echoed Connor’s adoration of Rachel.

He had never been more proud of her than this moment.

As Markus quieted down the church, he seemed more sure of what he wanted to do. “Time has come to make a choice, one that very well may determine the future of our people.” He stated, making a silence fall on the androids of Jericho. He seemed to think for a moment before he gave his people his decision. “I know...I know you're all angry.” He addressed them. “And I know you wanna fight back...But I assure you violence is not the answer here. We are gonna tell them peacefully that we want justice. If there's any humanity in them, they will listen. And if not, others will take our place and continue this fight.” Anticipation clung around them like static as Jericho waited for his call to arms with baited breath. “Are you ready to follow me?”

For the final time, cheers broke around the decrepit church as androids rose from their seats and approached the altar, pumping their fists in the air as they chanted Markus’s name. As Rachel stepped down from the altar, Connor got up and rushed to meet her, her arms wrapped around him. “You see?” He assured her. “I told you you understand. That you could prove to them that humans, despite everything, can be trusted.”

“It still sucks that you couldn’t stand up there with me.” Rachel lamented. “You deserved to be by my side.”

“Rachel!” But before Connor could protest, he heard a familiar voice behind him. The voice of Carlos Ortiz’s android, Micheal. Connor turned around and saw not only him, but Rupert, the android with the birds, and the Tracis from the Eden Club approach. “I knew it was you.”

Rachel seemed confused to see them. “What are you all doing here?” She asked.

“To tell you that we want to help.” The brown-haired Traci said.

Rachel seemed even more confused. “Help with...what?”

“Anything.” Rupert replied.

“To repay you for all that you’ve done for us.” The blue-haired Traci added. “Between sparing us during your investigation and showing us that we meant something to you.”

As Rachel’s eyes scanned between all of them, Connor saw Markus approaching. “So, Rachel.” He said, prompting her to turn around. “What’s your idea?”

She looked around at the small group she gathered and smiled, that determined spark lit like a bright inferno. “You mentioned that there are five camps in Detroit.” Rachel said, prompting Markus to nod to confirm her inquiry. “If you demonstrate at each camp, I can lead a small brigade of a handful to infiltrate them. Once we do, we can release the androids from the camps and shut them down.”

“That’s dangerous!” Markus said, attempting to discourage her. “You could get yourself killed.”

“I accepted that as a possibility before I came back here. I risked my life on Jericho when it was destroyed.” Rachel insisted. “Look, if you all gather in front of the camps, you’ll make the army nervous and they’ll focus all their attention on you, and it’ll be easier for me and my handful to sneak in without causing trouble. Once we’re in, we just have to make it a synchronized effort.” Markus still didn’t seem convinced, but Rachel wasn’t backing down. “Look, I know it seems like a longshot, but every part of this is! And if we want to win this, we need to attack this from all angles. Connor’s already decided to infiltrate CyberLife, you’ve decided to demonstrate at the camps, and I’ve decided I’ll infiltrate the camps while you’re there.”

Markus nodded, reluctantly agreeing. “Alright. Take whoever you feel best to take.” He relented. “I trust you, Rachel.”

She then turned to the small gathering behind her with a smile. “Are you all ready to follow me into the camps to liberate your fellow androids?”

They all nodded. “We’ll follow you anywhere, Rachel.” Micheal agreed.

“You tell us what you need us to do, and we’ll do it.” The blue-haired Traci agreed.

Turning around and facing Connor and Markus, she smiled. “We all know what we have to do.” She said to them, taking both of their hands. “No matter what happens, no regrets.”

Connor looked between her and Markus and nodded. “No regrets.” They both agreed.

And so, plans for the revolution began.

---------------------------------

Next Chapter

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demytasse · 5 years

Text

[Shinzaya] Blindsight —Prologue

(Dullahan Izaya AU) A slice of life fic that starts at the point where Shinra and Izaya first meet and continues through the years. It’s rather wabisabi-esque, and really, it’s an outlet for my over-abundant fuwafuwa, dokidoki feelings for these two...and an excuse for me to gush over them...yet again. ( ´͈ ᵕ `͈) Inspired from a ‘what it...’ ask that @vanitasmisora sent.

—

Izaya was aware of how unique he was.

If he couldn't gather that from centuries of experience then he was far unworthy of those years. Even if he were given leeway for his lost memories it’d still be a travesty of the high intellect he believed himself to have; because he had such a distinct weight of isolation without a discernible reason for it, which if he had one takeaway from that feeling it would be that he lacked comrades.

Izaya knew his rationale hadn’t fooled him. If it had then he wouldn’t be in his current place—laid out and tied down, upon an operating table that was likely the only one to ever hold one of his kind: a dullahan of Celtic myth. Indeed, if there were another like himself then there wouldn’t be such a fuss over his presence.

There wouldn’t be doctoral associates looming over his bare, vulnerable body.

Nor would there be murmured interest among them.

And most certainly there wouldn’t be an excitable kid boosted on the table edge to get a better view of a headless being; whose smile broke the boundary of his surgical mask with wonderment up to his eyes, his voiceless audible and better viewed than anything.

"Wow…"

Out of those in the room, Izaya had an inkling that this child was the oddest one of the bunch—perhaps even more amongst people in the outside world.

Which once again Izaya could relate, if not in the past at least in the present.

It was with his dismal self-awareness that the dullahan was immediately enamoured of his table-mate who remained ignorant of the hustle around him. Izaya and this boy; likely the sore-thumbs in every crowd they could find themselves in.

—

"Time isn’t patient, Shinra. Especially with this particular patient."

From Izaya's vantage was an older man frigid in his smock that often presented himself with pep to counterbalance his off-putting vibe; he watched as he threw a glance to his carbon copy.

"Any son of mine wouldn’t procrastinate under these circumstances. He would cut with his scalpel rather than corners."

For all intents and purposes, the son he unfairly chastised was too green for the laboratory in the first place, though Izaya knew the organization which hosted these experiments hardly cared.

Though that made the situation worse.

"A-ah! R-right."

It was obvious that this kid wasn’t ready.

Perhaps it wasn’t due to his nerves, not fully, as inexperience seemed to only mildly affect him, but that wasn’t quite it.

No—in actuality it looked like he just wanted more time to gape. He was so young that a living corpse was something to revel like he’d already been and continued to.

It was clear that Izaya wasn’t just some experiment.

And maybe his father’s expert advice was correct, that time is of the essence or whatever idiomatic babble he’d used earlier. Still, it was harsh to sever innocence from his son, it being important to let a kid be a kid. That ripe curiosity was something to appreciate.

And Izaya did. Unexpectedly.

The kid nervously patted himself down, looking for a tool he seemed to have lost.

His father as he shook his head in disapproval. “I’m going to overlook your shameful disregard of proper sanitary practices this time...it’s not that it matters given your patient.”

A scalpel was offered and suddenly excitement took over his frantic nerves. Shinra snatched it—like he did his unique opportunity to dissect a cryptid; a chance most wouldn’t even think to dream of.

Once he did, his attention snapped back to Izaya with a giddy expression, like his emotions spoke for him.

‘Look, look! We get to play with one another now!’

It was pure, innocent human fascination. As it would seem, Izaya shared fascination of his own, and if anything could dull the excruciating pain of his conscious-mind dissection it would be this miracle anaesthesia as not only traditional methods were proven ineffective, but this intrigue…

...it was far stronger on its own.

Izaya’s own curiosity could dissuade the pain. In awe, he could observe the sloppy method of his prosector—Shinra.

To use his name would give proper respect to whom he regarded a send from some god he may have known before his memories were stripped.

Shinra’s excitement made him quiver, the knife loose in his fingers almost dropped. Under his breath, he ran through steps, notes that he may have written out and studied until the paper was more like a napkin.

“...use the drawn mark as a guide…

“...place the tip at the top…

“...adjust the angle of the blade…”

And then he paused—Izaya was left antsy for the incision.

"Dad...I’m not sure if I'm doing it right." Shinra tested the correct pressure as he shook more.

"Trial and error. Figure it out as you go along, my boy. It’s not like he feels pain... at least not like any human I know." He chuckled.

Given who Shingen was, the humans he knew were probably more than the handful present, perhaps an entire surgical department’s worth and possibly more than the members exclusive to Nebula.

Izaya didn’t know the breadth of his connections, but he did know that the man probably didn’t know any of them.

Sadly, his son was among that lot.

“Okay…”

Things picked up as Shinra caught his bearings. He lost some of his disruptive nerves, but never fully; he’d held back a fraction like he needed permission—rather—a reminder that what he was performing was a dissection akin to a dead animal so what he was doing wasn’t ethical abuse.

Which ethics, did he even have any?

If the boy was raised in another household then maybe he’d be instilled with a rational sense of right or wrong.

Given his circumstances, if a medical commentator interrupted to ask for his morals his response would be confusion, a cocked head, and an immediate return to his slice and dice, his palpation of useless organs.

Aside from morals, Izaya was reassured that it didn’t matter. Between squelches of intestines and kidneys, the squash of the liver and stomach, the mini surgeon would check in with his patient. Not to take note of his reactions as data points, but to actually check in with him. As if he began to connect subtle body movements to certain kinds of pain, pinpoint the times when he relaxed and what prompted them, astutely notice Izaya’s own fixation, thusly resonated with the reverb of his silent pain.

The boy offered his sympathy. Ethics and morals—even if they were held they wouldn’t hold up against Shinra’s conscience, untampered and untainted.

He was mature in his own way, adultlike when he shouldn’t have been and had more regard of life than everyone in the lab put together and that was a travesty of the supposedly intellectual human race.

But due to that innocent compassion, Izaya lost all sense of harsh reality as Shinra took care of him in a way that differed from a dissection.

Izaya was being examined bit-by-bloodless-bit, being accounted for internal pieces and their proper placement, yet only focused on Shinra. Later on, he’d discover that he saw the kid as ‘adorable’ while at the moment he hadn’t the term.

Shinra nodded with a final glance, ‘don’t worry, I’m almost done.’

He moved on—right side of the chest cavity to the left—stopped at an organ beneath his fingertips and slipped them under to remove it. None of his other organs had been handled delicately, in fact, none of them had been removed.

Thus the importance was heavy.

Shinra took Izaya’s heart from his beatless chest into a cradle of his hands—he almost bowed in respect of its beauty.

"...dad, what's his name…?"

Izaya was aware of how unique Shinra was.

"Shinra! Just concentrate."

Inhuman or not, the dullahan would’ve been heartless not recognise Shinra’s unrivalled passion. Even with his heart absent from his chest, it was obvious.

Apart from drone adults, Shinra was an interesting specimen himself. He who gave Izaya hope that he wouldn't experience his rebooted lifetime from the reflection of dead-eyed, veteran surgeons; wisened men and women long disenchanted by their craft.

"What's his name," Shinra demanded.

"Where did this insubordination suddenly come from?”

Though Shinra kept to the scrutiny of his trophy organ.

“Simply blasphemous.” Shingen blotted sweat with his sleeve, sighed. “It's... Isaiah…?”

Overhead light reflected off his goggles while he pretended to search his memories until he hazarded a glance down at his son.

He exuded pride, his obstructed smile endearing. “Ah, right, I believe it’s...Izaya.”

As Shinra was given a name he perked up—to which Shingen nudged him to proceed after he noticed the returned vigour.

“Now replace his heart before the incision closes."

Shinra fell into an obsession of Izaya’s entire being, heart and all. With a proven myth and supernatural existence; a specimen that appeared human yet uniquely dazzled.

An aberration, a head above the rest with one less above its neck. A dullahan, but far more a beauty to cherish.

Though the rest of Shinra remained a mystery to Izaya; at that particular place and time, all that was uncovered was fascination. The boy’s brain could’ve been splayed like Izaya on the table—his psyche could have been revealed for all to see and yet the details would still be undefined.

All but one thing wouldn’t be a puzzle.

Shinra, with a heart at the level of his own, would make damn sure of what he paid explicit mind to for all his years...

"Izaya…"

At that the two were ensnared. Shinra and Izaya were beholden of each other’s perception of love; taken on a ride through various versions of the concept in tow of an unreliable source of emotional intelligence.

"...it's nice to meet you."

All in a moment they saw the world eye to eye, if only by blindsight.

——

AN: Did I mention? I get a little romantically morbid...>w>; I absolutely adore lil Shinra, so I put extra care into writing him. This is the wordiest part of the fic, the rest of the chapters will be shorter, I just wanted to set up the story first. ♡

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dailytomlinson · 5 years

Link

Tomlinson says that, unlike former bandmates Zayn Malik and Liam Payne, both of who have released music obviously influenced by hip-hop and R&B, “I can’t really relate to the urban-leaning sounds you hear on American radio”. Instead, he cites Catfish And The Bottlemen as an influence (“Lyrically, it’s conversational and honest”) and spends his time listening to Apple Music playlist “Kebab On The Night Bus”, which features bands such as The Arctic Monkeys, The Stone Roses, The Who and Idles . The result is a solo output that, finally, makes him feel “really excited and really proud. This is where I want to be.”

Still three years shy of 30 and living between London and LA (where he shares a home with his best friend from Doncaster, Olly), Tomlinson seems to have finally found some balance.

#gq magazine #190919 #kmm press #stunt mention #press #louis tomlinson

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imajoonations · 5 years

Text

Mechanism

Masterlist

Namjoon x Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Word Count: 2917

Warnings: None

The unseen consequences of murdering another to absorb their magic wasn't revealed until the next generation was born. Children only possessed bloodline magic, causing some abilities to vanish from the world entirely.

This led to another unfortunate discovery, killing one's own parents would allow us to consume what they themselves had stolen.

When I was 7 years old, my father demanded I kill my mother. Of course I refused, but this only prompted her to attack me. I had never been in a fight before and I definitely was no match for my mother. While she unleashed powerful attacks, her goal was never to hit me.

Magic takes life force which can replenish over time. However, if too much magic is used at once, it can have a devastating effect on the caster.

I didn't attack my mother, the toll the spells took on her body were what killed her. That is how my powers were inherited.

That day, I decided to only use my bloodline magic, creation, and aligned with those who did the same. The only way to avoid fighting is to hide. That's how Eva and I came to be.

I created a manor from a mountain. It took less effort to twist my surroundings into something new than to materialize it from thin air. To outsiders, Eva has disguised it to appear as if it's still just a mountain. This allowed us to survive, but not to live. That's why I created a new world, one without magic. I needed something to focus my energy on in order to stay sane. However, I can't perfect this world and it's slowly driving me mad.

"Desi~" Eva said. Her voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

"Hmm?"

She wrapped her arms around me with her head rested on my shoulders. "You've been locked in this study for days, staring at that world of yours. Can't you focus on me for a bit, love?"

I wrapped my hand around one of her arms, as I pulled her into my lap. I gestured to the billions of tiny cogs inside a glass orb, "What do you see?"

Her brows furrowed in confusion as she looked into my eyes, her beauty never ceases to amaze me. I've looked at her face every day for thousands of years, but I still don't think I've taken in all her features yet. She leaned forward watching for a bit. "Your favorite creation working as intended. Self sustaining.", Eva said as she glanced back at me.

I let out a sigh and tangled my arms around her slim waist. "It's missing something, don't you think?"

She chuckled and turned her body so she could wrap her arms around my neck. "What do you see when you look at it Desi?"

I sucked in my cheeks as I thought of an answer. "Failure," I pressed my forehead into the crook of her neck, her Auburn hair tickled my cheek. "Something that falls short of perfection.", I said.

She pressed her lips to my temple and whispered, "Nothing is perfect dear."

My grip tightened around her waist and I tilted my head as her smile pressed her gentle, green eyes into crescents. "You are Eva.", I mumbled into her skin.

Her smile widened and those green orbs disappeared behind her eyelids. "You flatter me, but my beauty is just an illusion, love. Everyone sees what they want to see when they look at me.”, Eva said.

I laughed and her face twisted in annoyance, demanding an explanation from me. "I sometimes forget that you are a mirror of one's desires."

Her face softened with my words as she pushed my bangs away from my face. "Well what do you desire in this world of yours?"

"I want those in it to break my expectations. However, they never seem to be capable of that no matter how I change the design."

My eyes followed her as she got up from my lap to pace around the dimly lit room. I could almost see her brain working it's hardest to find my answer. Even if it's not an easy task, she had always tried to ease my burdens.

She turned around and ran to me and grabbed my hands, "I know!" She grinned from ear to ear as her excitement grew.

"Know what?" She scowled at me like I should already know what she was thinking. "I can't read your mind.", I said.

She rolled her eyes and huffed out a breath, "Have you ever been to this world? I honestly don't know how you expect something to be perfect when you've distanced yourself from it." Bringing her gaze to be level with mine, "Do you trust me?"

I looked at her bewildered, "Of course."

She smirked as her eyes began to glow, "Good," I gazed into them and felt my surroundings fade as the world I created materialized around me, "If you need me, talk into anything with a reflection. I'll be waiting."

I chuckled as I looked into the window of a nearby store, "At least she made sure to hide my true appearance and with quite a handsome face too."

I turned to face the crowd of people on their morning commute and let out a sigh at my creations. It's as if they are a herd of mindless sheep, so disappointing. There has to be at least one person here that is extraordinary and I will wander as a silent observer until I find you.

Meanwhile...

"Alright I'm heading out!!", I yelled to no one. Sounds a bit stupid, but it makes my home feel less empty. I've only lived in Seoul for about two months now and honestly it's not living up to the hype I had built in my own head before coming. Sure. South Korea was great and living in another country has been my dream since I was little. It's just very humbling to realize I don't matter at all.

It hadn't been long enough since the big move for me to make any close friends, just a few coworkers and classmates I talked to in passing. I have people who loved and cared about me, but they were on the other side of the world. Add that to time zones differences and life got pretty lonely. Well there is one person I enjoy, but we only met shortly after I moved here. "Maybe I should get a cat..."

As I started my walk to school, it was as normal as always. The kind, old man greeted me as I passed by his store. He bowed to everyone though, so it's not like he is truly saw me. He just hoped I would divert my course and buy something, I guess. A few people tried to hand me flyers or told me about some cool new item that I couldn't live without. I didn't even own a proper bed frame yet.

I've been way too busy just trying to keep my grades up to buy one. It's not that I am stupid, just that all my classes proved to be a major pain when everything is in Korean. Guess I didn't realize real life didn't come with subtitles.

"Excuse me miss?"

I looked behind me to see a guy. Fairly average looking. 5'10. Dark hair. Brown eyes. Looked like everyone else you'd imagine seeing here. "Yes?"

The man rubbed the back of his neck while smiling sheepishly at me, "You wouldn't happen to have any money, so I can catch the bus would you?"

Seriously...?

"It seems I forgot my wallet at home by mistake."

I tried to hold back my sigh since his bunny teeth and sparkly eyes were so endearing. "Uhm...let me look in my wallet."

I shuffled through the random crap I had in my bag, searching for coins. There might be some lost in the bottom...maybe? Kind of embarrassing to admit, but I definitely didn't have any money in my wallet. Just my I.D. and a gift card for a pizza joint back home that probably had $1 on it...at most.

After I dug around in the warzone that is the bottom of my bag and managed to stick my fingers in every gross thing there is, I found some change. "Is this enough? I'm not sure how much it costs."

The guy inspected my change as if it is some lost treasure, "Yes. Thanks so much."

I watched as the guy sprinted off towards the bus, barely having gotten on it in time. I guess he didn't realize there will be another bus in 5 minutes and that he didn't need to run around like a chicken with his head cut off.

I continued on my path to school, I shoved my earbuds in hopes to drown out the overwhelming sounds of the city. It's a short walk to school. I was very fortunate to have found an apartment so close, but I would take the long way if it meant I got to avoid the crowded morning commute. Unfortunately for me, there is no way that was less crowded. I didn't hate people, just the lack of space they gave me. I'm not really sure why, but I panic when I feel surrounded by so many people. Nothing ever happened to me and I'm not shy, just claustrophobic I guess.

I turned the corner to see my school in the distance. I sighed in annoyance as I got ready to brace myself for the unrelenting amount of stress as I tried to keep up with my professor’s lectures. An arm wrapped around my shoulders and slowed my fast set pace. I pulled my earbuds out and turned to the only person who would have felt they were close enough to intentionally invade my personal space like that. "Morning Namjoon."

His cute dimples already appeared on his stupidly handsome face. "Morning. You didn't text me last night."

I did my best to roll my eyes and hide my joy inside, "Yea because you weren't worth my time."

He chuckled, bumping into me gently, "Try all you want y/n. I know you liiiike me."

Cocky little shit...but true. "Go flirt with someone else. I'm going to be late for class." I quickened my pace to avoid being around him anymore. I seriously had no control over my heart when he was around.

After hours of painful mind Olympics trying to translate as fast as my professors could speak, I was happy to be walking towards the glorious gates of the campus.

"Wait up," I turned to see Namjoon as he ran with an adorable bounce towards me, "Let me walk you home."

I tried my best to not squeal out loud, only in my head. "Would love to, but I have work."

"Then I'll just walk you there."

Eeek!!! Prince charming lives in Korea and he's talking to me!

"Duh~"

Stop ruining it, you turd monkey!!

He mostly talked and I listened as we walked together. "Why are you always so quiet?"

Crap. "Uhm...it's stupid." He walked ahead of me and smiled. Ugh! That perfect smile will be the death of me!!

"So? Do I make you uncomfortable or something?"

My eyes shot wide with panic, "Nonono!! Nothing like that. It's just...I don't know...I guess I like listening to you more than I like talking." Sort of... "It's lame, but you're the only person I know who likes talking in English. It's like...a slice of home hearing my native tongue in a place so alien to me." I chewed on my cheek as he stopped in front of me. "What Namjoon?"

He leaned down to be level with my height, "You're so lame, it's adorable."

I slapped his shoulder as he stuck out his tongue and turned to keep walking. So annoying!! But so cute too...

I stared at his back, he looked so confident when he walked. It was enchanting to watch.

"Stop staring at my ass."

"What ass?" He glared at me and sucked on his teeth in annoyance. I tried my best not to burst out in a fit of laughter, but I failed miserably.

"Don't act like you don't want this!" He wiggled his hips in front of me as he patted his butt.

"You look like a circus monkey and that old lady is staring at you like you have mental problems." His cheeks reddened and I fought the urge to awww~ in his face.

"Shut up..."

Aww~ flustered Joon is cutest Joon!!!

We stood in front of the library I worked at. "Well, I guess I'll see you later?" I played with my fingers, as I looked up at him.

"Actually, I'm having a get together with some friends at my place later. Do you want to come?"

My heart stuttered a little when I met his eyes, "I'd like that."

His showed that perfect smile that made my heart panic more, "What time are you off work? I'll meet you here so I can walk you back to my place."

I rolled my eyes, "I can walk there myself, you know?"

"No way. It's already getting dark outside. What kind of friend would I be?"

Friend... "Ha. Yea you're right...I'm off at 8" He opened his arms for a hug and I willingly got into them.

"I'll be waiting." He winked and I felt his eyes on me as I walked into work.

I turned around and waved at him. He just smiled and nodded his head as he turned to walk away. Friend...ugh!!!

Sweet time transitions

"Ok. I'm going to finish up here and clock out." My coworker smiled at me and wished me goodnight. I headed to the employee break room to grab my belongings as I rubbed my eyelids. It's been an exhausting day.

"Y/n!", my manager appeared like the Satan he is.

"Yea?" Please don't ask me to stay late!

"There is a new hire coming in tomorrow. I want you to train them. Alright?"

A new hire...isn't there already enough people working here? It's one mediocre library. "Yes, sir. How will I know which person is the new hire?"

My manager looked at me dumbfounded, "it'll be the employee you don't know."

...idiot... "Right....well I'll see you tomorrow then Mr. Kim." He just nodded and walked off while I mentally face palmed. My brain must be seriously fried after today...

I walked out of the library and looked around for Joon. Huh...he's not here. I took my phone out of my purse and checked to see if I had any messages.

Joon💜

Running a bit late! Sry.

My friend wanted to come too 🙄

Hope you don't mind...

I sighed as I wrapped my coat around my myself as tight as I could. It's only August, but it's already started to get pretty cold at night. Please hurry~

I decided it was best to not stand in front of work, I wandered towards a nearby streetlight. It should be close enough that Joon could find me. There was no one around anyways. He'd be an idiot if he couldn't find me.

My eyes scanned the nearby woods...well sort of woods. It's just a few trees that the city had put in to make the area more pleasant to look at. Before it was just a dirt field. As I watched the trees I noticed movement. The frick... "Hello? Is someone out there." Please be a no. Please be a no. I scanned the trees for any signs of life. Ok frick this!!

I started to make my way back to the front of the library where creepy things definitely did not lurk in the shadows. However, I still felt like I was being watched. My heart started to speed up, as did my legs. I swore I heard footsteps behind me, but I was too afraid to look back. Someone's hand grabbed onto my arm and turned me to face them as I yelped in fear.

"Woah! Sorry y/n...I didn't mean to scare you.", Namjoon said.

Heat rose to my cheeks quickly, but they were probably already red from standing in the cold. "Namjoon...Were you in the trees over there, just now?"

He looked over at the trees and back at me with furrowed brows. "No. Why?"

I stood closer to him to feel a bit safer, "I thought I saw someone...or something there."

He just chuckled and laid his arm over my shoulder. "Relax. It was probably just your imagination. Let's go, it's really cold already." He grabbed my hand and started walking me towards his home.

"Where's your friend?"

"Oh! He said he needed to run back to his place real quick."

"Ahh~ ok then." We continued our walk in silence, but I still felt a sense of unease. I swore if felt like there was someone watching me. I took one last glance at the treeline to see if I could make out a figure, but there was nothing. Huh...I'd much rather focus on Joon than my overactive imagination anyways.

Unbeknownst to her, a figure emerged from behind a tree, watching the two from the shadows.

"That was close." coming to stand on the sidewalk as they brushed off the dirt from the trees, "I think I'll stick around here for a while. Maybe something interesting will happen."

A/N: Guys OMG I’ve been locked out of this account forever!!!! I missed writing for you guys so much, but I didn’t want to start all over on a new account. I’m so SORRY, I’ve been MIA for about 2 years now!!!! This story has 3 parts written so far and I have zero ideas on how long it will be, but I love it so far! I’ve also been writing stuff for my own amusement that I can upload over time for you guys! AAAGHGHGHSH, I’m just so happy I was finally able to get back into this account!!!!

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