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jayeray-hq · 3 years

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Twin Kittens (Part 1)

Hey everyone! This is my part for the Paws and Claws Collab that was with @katslutski The theme of the collab was hybrids (puppy/kitty/bunny etc) so if you’re interested check it out!

Unfortunately as usual I got excessively wordy, so this is going to be split into three parts. This part alone is about 20K words and we're only about a third of the way through! so it definitely had to be split up.

If you like this feel free to check out my Atsumu or my Osamu masterlists!

While there is no smut in this part there will be in the future thus this story is 18+ minors DNI please!

TW: Previous mentions of past abuse, gaslighting, verbal, death threats, hybrids have been treated like slaves before

This story is Fem Reader x Atsumu x Osamu but there will be no actual incest. While there will be a threesome at the end the boys won't ever touch one another sexually.

“Are you alright?” your neighbor Ojirou asked, a concerned look on his face as he watched you listlessly stir your drink with the straw, playing with the melting ice in the glass.

The two of you were actually good friends, having lived peacefully side by side for over five years now. You’d met on the very first day when you moved in, you’d been struggling to open the door with a large box in your arms and he’d rushed to the rescue. He and his hybrids diligent Kita, the blue merle border collie, and sly, sleek Suna the Siamese cat, had all pitched in to help you get moved in and settled. You’d been good friends with all three of them ever since.

It was his turn to host your traditional Friday night dinner, so you’d gone over to his apartment determined to enjoy yourself. However, something must’ve given away the rough day you’d had, because all three of them had been casting you concerned looks all night and trading glances when they thought you couldn’t see.

It was apparently Aran’s job to confront you about it, though both hybrids were looking at you expectantly. Well, Kita was looking at you expectantly, Suna was pretending not to pay attention, his phone in his hands, but you could see him watching out of the corner of his eye.

“What makes you think something’s wrong?” you asked determined to at least give it a try.

The stern look you got from Kita and the sympathetic smile from Ojiro told you how ultimately fruitless the effort had been, so you caved in with a sigh, pushing your glass away so you could slump face down on the table burying your head in your arms. You’d tell them, but that didn’t mean you wanted to be necessarily looking them in the eye when you did.

“You know how I went to that thing with some of my girl friends today?” you asked tiredly.

There were acknowledging hums all around even from Suna who you saw from the corner of your eye was no longer pretending to look at his phone and instead watching you like some rare breed of animal in a zoo doing something particularly fascinating.

“Well it was fun, great even,” you told them with a small quirk of your lips, “Right up until we started talking about significant others. Apparently two of them are getting married soon, one has a baby on the way, and the rest are in steady loving relationships or have openly declared they aren’t interested in that kind of thing. So guess who was the only sad single there?”

“Ah,” Ojirou acknowledged a well of sympathy in his voice.

“And of course once they found out, they were like ‘oh I think my husband has a brother’ or ‘oh I have this great friend from work you’d just love,” you ranted, earning a quiet snicker from Suna, which prompted you to lift your head up so you could dig back at the cat hybrid who looked to be having far too much fun at your expense.

“They even asked me why I didn’t date my nice neighbor, the one I’m always hanging out with,” you added on ruthlessly, ignoring Ojirou’s shocked sputters, “But I told them he was in a committed relationship. They were skeptical at first, but then I told them that I was sure because someone is extremely loud, enough that I’m forced to use headphones to drown out the yowling.”

Poor Ojirou was coughing, clearly dying of embarrassment, and even Kita had the faintest red tinge to his cheeks. Unfortunately, Suna, unbothered as ever, simply smirked at you, which confirmed some of your suspicions that he’d been doing it on purpose, the brat.

Heaving another forlorn sigh you decided to give up and give poor Ojirou a break, making a mental note to make it up to him somehow. The poor guy really didn’t deserve to be caught in the crossfire between you and Suna.

“So, I spent the time being relentlessly hounded until it was time to leave,” you continued on, pretending not to notice Kita patting Ojirou’s back sympathetically, “I tried to explain to them that I just don’t have the time and energy it takes to go out and start dating people, that work was taking up too much of my time, but they weren’t having any of it.”

“It sounds like a rough time,” Ojirou told you, with genuine sympathy, the man too kind even after you’d embarrassed the hell out of him, “like when I go home and baa-chan asks when I’m going to settle down and get married.”

Suna let out an involuntary hiss at that, and Kita’s shoulders stiffened up a bit. Even though hybrid-human relationships were accepted and even almost expected between them and their owners these days, it didn’t mean that everyone accepted them as ‘true’ relationships. There were a good chunk of people, mostly conservatives and the older generation who believed that human/human relationships were the only valid ones.

This was no doubt because of the fact that most hybrid children, once they hit eighteen chose to go to hybrid adoption centers rather than staying with their parents. This was partly because it was one of the few good ways to get out from under your parents roof.

Hybrid rights had come a long way from when they’d first been implemented a few decades ago, back when they were considered something of a toy and a pet, not better than a slave. However, they technically still required a human ‘owner’ to do things like go to school, find a job, or even be out in public unsupervised.

There were people working to change that of course, and you’d donated heavily to the cause and actively supported it, but change was slow going, so for now it was what it was. It didn’t help that there were a good deal of people around like Ojirou’s grandma who viewed hybrids as less than human, and would probably never acknowledge his relationship or any children they had, especially if the children were hybrids too.

It was something you’d listened to him vent about more than once, happy to lend him a listening ear, especially since he’d done the same for you plenty of times over the years.

“It wasn’t quite that bad,” you admitted, giving him your own sympathetic smile, “but it was rather depressing.”

“Do ya even want a companion like that?” Kita asked her reasonably, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard ya talk about wantin’ a relationship other than rantin’ about a few failed dates here and there. If ya don’t I don’t see why it should be a problem, and not any of their business either.”

“Except I think I kind of do,” you admitted with a grimace, to the practical dog-hybrid who always gave solid, dependable advice, “I never planned to spend the rest of my life alone you know? I just always put my career first figuring relationships could come later, when I had more time, but now I’m starting to wonder if later will ever come.”

“And ya don’t want to date?” Kita asked with a slight frown, “I’m sure ya could make time if ya really wanted to, we could change our dinners around fer a while maybe?”

“No way,” you protested immediately, “Dinners with you guys are my only bastion of sanity. Plus I’m not even sure I want to go out and meet people, frankly at this point I’m not even sure I know how. It just… gets a little lonely coming home to an empty apartment sometimes you know?”

“So why don’t you get a hybrid?” Ojirou asked, his tone eminently reasonable despite the shock of what he’d said.

“A hybrid?” you repeated a little dumbfounded, “Me?!”

“Well why not?” he defended, stroking his recently grown goatee with his thumb and forefinger, “You’re wealthy enough to afford one, it would solve your companionship issue, and you wouldn’t have to date anyone, just go to a hybrid adoption center and find someone you’re compatible with.”

When he put it like that it did sound reasonable, even if it wasn’t an idea that had ever occurred to you. A lot of your friends, not just Ojirou, had hybrid companions, one of the weddings discussed earlier that day was even to a hybrid even if it wouldn’t be official until they could get proper legislature passed. You just had never really considered it an option for yourself.

“Do you think I could?” you asked with a light frown, turning the idea over in your mind, the question directed more at Kita than anyone else, both because he was always the most reasonable of the three and because as a hybrid you thought he’d probably be more qualified to answer whether you were a fit ‘owner’.

However to your surprise it wasn’t Kita, but Suna who answered first informing you in his normal lazy drawl, “You’d do well with a hybrid I think, probably something lower energy, like a cat, and we’re pretty self-sufficient as you know, so you wouldn’t have to worry about leaving it home alone like you would a pet.”

“He’s right,” Kita agreed, after a thoughtful pause, “Personally I believe ya would do well with a hybrid, ya get along with us well enough. Plus if yer worried we can help ya look after them. Suna needs a playmate anyway, he’s been getting’ up ta too much mischief lately when Aran and I ain’t here.”

Suna didn’t even bother to protest, just shrugged, completely unbothered by the accusation. Figuring you might as well take advantage of the situation you asked a few more questions, all of which were answered by your friends who all had a lot of input on what kind of hybrid you should get.

You left that night with your head stuffed full of information, after telling them you needed time to think it over. Getting a hybrid was a lifechanging thing and you didn’t want to run off half-cocked. It had gotten you an approving nod from Kita and a supportive pat on the shoulder from Ojirou. Suna had simply given you a knowing smirk, as if the smug cat hybrid already knew exactly what you were going to do as you walked out the door.

You stared up at the hybrid adoption center, not quite sure how you’d ended up here. For the last week or so, ever since Ojirou had brought it up you’d had hybrids on the brain. You’d found your eyes wandering to look at them when they passed you in the street and idly daydreaming in your down time what it might be like to have one waiting when you came home and fantasizing about what kind you might get.

Normally you were very focused and productive at work, but somehow, you’d found yourself scrolling through different sites, putting in research into what kind of facility you should visit and what you’d need to do. It had gotten bad enough that some of your coworkers had noticed your distraction, which was the final nail in the coffin.

You’d already known which center Ojirou had used to choose Kita and Suna, and so at the end of a particularly long day, quietly dreading heading home to your empty apartment you’d instead found yourself driving over to the center.

It was on the smaller side when it came to hybrid adoption centers, privately run and owned by Azumane Industries, a fashion line that created clothes that specifically catered to hybrids. Ojirou had, had nothing but good things to say, and so gathering your courage you left your car to head resolutely inside.

The lobby was rather quiet, only one other patron and two people manning the desks, both of whom looked up when you entered. You were a bit surprised to see the only two workers in sight were hybrids, one a silver cat of some type and the other clearly a German shepherd.

In hindsight it made a lot of sense to have hybrids be in charge of the adoption of other hybrids as they would likely know best how to match people up. However, you rarely saw that kind of practicality when it came to hybrids especially because you knew there was a lot of prejudice out there.

You offered the cat a hesitant smile, stepping up to the desk, the smile he gave back one that was both kind and welcoming as he introduced, “Welcome to Azumane Industries Hybrid Adoption Center. My name is Sugawara, how can I help you today?”

“I’m looking to adopt,” you admitted, unsure what else to say you tacked on, “My friend recommended this place to me, so here I am.”

“Well, we’ll take good care of you,” he assured you calmly, “Usually we do this by appointment, but you’re lucky. It’s a slow day and we have an opening, so I’d be happy to start the process with you if you’re willing.”

“Great,” you told him with a quiet sigh of relief, glad that he could fit you in. Honestly you should’ve known that a place like this would require a call ahead at least. It would’ve served you right for being so impulsive if they hadn’t been able to squeeze you in, “Just tell me what I need to do.”

Sugawara offered you a sly grin, one that reminded you of Suna as he promptly pushed a large stack of paperwork in your direction and handed you a pen. You grimaced at the sight of it but set to work, quietly filling out the forms one by one and handing each of them to Sugawara after so he could log them into his computer.

The forms reminded you of a loan or job application in a lot of ways, asking after your health, your income, your living situation, if you had a criminal record, any previous experience with hybrids etc. It took you quite a while to fill them all out, and by the end of it your wrist was sore and you’d signed your name more times than you cared to remember. However, since Sugawara had been filling in as you went you didn’t have to wait long to move on to the next step.

“Congratulations,” he told you with an amused smile, watching as you massaged your wrist, “You’ve been approved to adopt from our center, which means we now get to the fun part.”

“Fun part?” you questioned a little warily, having learned from Suna that a cat hybrid smiling at you didn’t necessarily mean good things for your sanity.

“Tell me about what kind of hybrid you’d like,” he told you leaning forward, elbows braced on the desk as he watched you intently, “Do you have any preferences? I’ve read all your information as we’ve gone along so I have some ideas, but I’d like to hear from you what you think you want.”

“I’m not sure where to start,” you admitted, feeling a little overwhelmed.

“That’s alright,” he assured you, “That’s what I’m here for. Let’s start with species, that’s always good and will narrow things down a bit.”

“I know I want a cat or dog hybrid,” you told him immediately glad to have some kind of answer for him, “Rabbit and rodent hybrids have heats and ruts too often for me to handle given how busy work keeps me.”

Heats and ruts were one of the big things that separated hybrids from humans and were part of the reason it was hard for them to find and hold down jobs. There were two kinds of hybrid within each species, alphas and omegas.

Alphas were usually more aggressive, stubborn, and willful. You needed to have a more dominant personality to have an alpha hybrid otherwise they’d walk all over you. Alphas also had a period called a rut, where their hormones skyrocketed and made them want to breed with anything and everything. It was a really uncomfortable time for them, and made them even more aggressive.

Omegas were generally more passive, quiet and compliant. They tended to be favored over Alpha hybrids as companions because of their more docile nature. They had periods called heats, which were similar to an Alphas rut, the only difference being they wanted to be bred rather than to breed. It made them needy and clingy the entire time.

Both heats and ruts lasted anywhere from a couple of days to a week depending on the species of hybrid. Dogs and cats had week long heats, but they only happened two to three times a year, whereas rabbit and rodent hybrids only lasted a few days, but happened every week and a half to two weeks.

You knew it wasn’t necessarily expected for a hybrid owner to stay home when their hybrid was in heat or rut, but you also knew it was those times that hybrids tended to be more reckless. Most of the research you did advised that you should if you could, even if you weren’t the one who was going to be sexually intimate with your hybrid. There were of course hybrid heat centers, where hybrids could go to find willing partners and get their needs taken care of, but you’d heard horror stories about places like that and didn’t want to use one unless you absolutely had to.

“There are medications to manage heats and ruts,” Sugawara pointed out reasonably, a slight frown on his face.

“I know,” you agreed, “But I did some research and it looks like most hybrids don’t like to take them because they have nasty side effects, like potential infertility, mood drops, and weight gain. If there’s a rodent or rabbit hybrid that wants to voluntarily take the medication then that could be fine, but I’ve heard only a few ever want to risk it.”

Sugawara looked surprised for a moment, then slowly nodded, “It’s good you’ve looked into things, and it’s nice to see someone who’s come prepared. I’ve heard a bit of that too, so no rabbits or rodents. Do you have any preference Alpha versus Omega?”

“Not really,” you admitted with a helpless shrug, feeling a little bad for not being able to narrow down the criteria for him, “I’m pretty open so long as they can fit into my lifestyle, are a little more independent, and think they’ll get along with me.”

“Well you’ll at least have lots of options,” Sugwara assured you, with a smile that told you he wasn’t off put by the fact that you didn’t know exactly what you wanted either, “Does that mean you don’t have a preference for breed either?”

“That’s right,” you agreed with a firm nod, “I just want someone who’s going to be compatible with me, everything else is secondary.”

“Okay,” he told you cheerfully, “I’m sure we can do that! Though it might take us a little bit to narrow things down. Since you aren’t picky you might as well come with me to start looking. Daichi can you manage the desk on your own?”

“Sure,” the german shepherd hybrid agreed, from where he’d been sitting quietly, keeping watch over the two of you and typing away on his computer, since there was literally no one else in the lobby, “Just keep a radio on you so I can call you back up here if it gets busy Suga.”

Your soon to be guide agreed with a smile, plucking one of the aforementioned radios up and attaching it to his belt, before standing up from the desk. He stretched in a very feline manner, then ushered you towards a door that led toward the back of the building, tail swishing peacefully behind him.

“Each species of hybrid has its own floor,” Sugawara explained as he led you through the hall, “Bunnies are on the top floor, rodents underneath them, cats on the second floor and dogs here on the first. Each floor has four separate wings, separated into categories depending on whether the hybrid in question is male or female, alpha or omega. These wings have private rooms in them and are connected by a shared space.”

“We’ll be going into the shared space,” he explained pausing outside one of the doors, “It’s where hybrids come both to hang out, and to meet people. If a hybrid isn’t interested in being adopted by a specific human they’ll simply return to their rooms until the human leaves. This way we ensure that no one gets coerced into adoption. We also keep a close eye on things with security cameras in the shared space, for both the safety of humans and hybrids. Before we enter the room, I need you to give me verbal consent to allow yourself to be filmed.”

“That’s fine,” you told him, more than a bit impressed with how thorough and organized the whole thing was, along with the lengths they went to, to ensure everyone’s comfort.

“Alright then, let’s introduce you to the dogs,” he teased, with a confident smile.

The minute the door opened, almost every head turned in your direction, making you feel a bit awkward and unsure. Some of the hybrids were in their human forms, ears and tails the only hint of their non-human status, while others were lounging around in their secondary animal form.

The animal form of a hybrid was indistinguishable from a normal animal of the same breed. The only thing that might give it away was the high level of intelligence. Your research told you that hybrids tended to act more on their instincts when in animal form, which could be both a good thing and a bad thing.

Case in point, the minute you entered with Sugawara one enormous grey and white speckled dog came bounding over barking his head off. He was absolutely huge, and only the madly wagging tail kept you from cringing back as he charged over, his barking immediately setting off a few of the others.

You got the wind knocked out of you a bit as he collided with you, though thankfully the door was behind you, and kept you from being knocked off your feet as he placed enormous paws on your shoulders, burying his face in your hair and sniffing enthusiastically. You froze, unsure exactly what to do in this situation, and more than a bit uncomfortable.

Luckily Sugawara immediately came to your rescue, shoving the big dog off as he scolded, “Bokuto! What have I told you about jumping up on our guests!”

The big dog immediately began to whine, tail tucked between his legs, and you wanted to feel bad for him, except you were still a bit unnerved.

“Sorry about him,” Sugawara apologized with a sigh, “He’s harmless I promise, just incredibly enthusiastic about new people.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, hesitantly reaching out to Bokuto palms first to see if he might be interested, only to have him turn away. Unsure what to do you glanced at Sugawara, whose tail was swishing in clear agitation.

“Ignore him,” the silver haired cat hybrid told you, “He’s just sulking because he got scolded. In fact, better yet ignore all of them, since they can’t stop being rude and barking.”

This last bit, along with the fierce glare that accompanied it was leveled at the room in general, earning some sheepish looks from a couple of the dog hybrids who were in human form, and managing to quiet several of the barking ones who were in animal form.

“Come on,” he urged with one last flick of his tail, “I should’ve started you with the cats anyway. You seem like a cat person to me, and I assure you they’ll have much better manners. If you don’t find what you’re looking for there, we’ll come back, but let’s explore the cat option first and give them time to recall their manners.”

You allowed him to usher you out of the room and toward the elevator, trusting his judgment. It was funny that he’d said you were a cat person, as he was actually the third cat hybrid to have told you so, Suna being one and the Siamese hybrid of one of your coworkers being the other.

It took you less than a minute to get up to the next floor, and when Sugawara ushered you into the cat hybrid room you could immediately feel the difference. There was no noise for one, just a bunch of curious eyes turned in your direction, but it didn’t feel hostile at all.

Sugawara quickly introduced you to the cat hybrids, telling them you’d come to adopt and had ‘just been slobbered all over by the dog hybrids’ so if they could all ‘mind their manners’ that would be great. You were a little amused at the exasperated hybrid’s antics, and you weren’t the only one, if the quiet snickering from a hybrid with particularly messy hair was any indication. However you were also grateful to him for being so diligent as he introduced you to everyone.

Slowly, several cat hybrids meandered up to you, some in human form, some in cat form, though some also stayed in place clearly observing everything. You chatted lightly with the ones in human form, while letting the ones in cat form do as they pleased, answering their questions and asking a few of your own.

It was a much more relaxed experience, something you were infinitely grateful for after the sudden chaos of the dog hybrid room, and you had to wonder if the cat hybrids who’d pegged you as a cat person hadn’t been right after all. You were in the middle of quietly talking to a lovely female alpha hybrid named Shimizu when Sugawara’s radio blared to life. Apparently, the front had gotten rather busy and Daichi desperately needed his help.

“Will you be alright if I leave you here?” Sugawara asked you seriously, “This shouldn’t take too long, and Shimizu is more than capable of looking after you.”

“Sure,” you agreed, after a quick glance at the hybrid in question, who gave an acknowledging nod of her head, “I don’t mind.”

“Good,” he agreed with a bright grin, before rounding on the rest of the room, “And all the rest of you better behave or I’ll hear why!”

With one last warning glare around the room he turned on his heel and left, leaving you in Shimizu’s capable hands. The two of you continued to talk amiably as several cat hybrids came by in one form or another to sniff at you or listen in on the conversation from nearby. A number of them only came over for a few minutes, lingered a bit and then left, spreading back out to the room or going into the hallways that led to their private rooms, however a good chunk of them stayed nearby as well.

Chatting lightly with Shimizu and a few of the others you found you really liked the poised and graceful cat hybrid and might’ve looked into adopting her. Unfortunately, Shimizu quickly made it clear that she had some plans of her own, that included getting herself and her young and adorable munchkin kitten hybrid Yachi adopted by one of their frequent visitors.

She was however, more than happy to give her own opinion on some of the other hybrids around, most of whom seemed to respect both her and her opinion a lot. You were listening to Shimizu tell you a bit more about Yachi, who was watching from a safe distance, clearly anxious, but also unwilling to leave, when you felt something paw at your leg.

A quick glance down revealed a long haired fluffy looking cat, in shades of silver and white who was staring up at you expectantly. None of the other cat hybrids had actually dared to touch you, a few coming close, but none making actual moves to greet you.

A little intrigued you crouched down so you’d be closer to his eye level, and extended your hands for him the same way you did for Suna when he was in his cat form, giving him a choice about whether he wanted to be touched or not. The cat hybrid eyed your hands thoughtfully for a minute, before sauntering within reach, nudging his head against your palm.

Taking your cue you allowed yourself to pet him, gently rubbing at his silky ears and enjoying the feeling of his thick, plush coat. His back arched pressing closer into your hands, eyelids lowering in contentment as you carefully massaged your fingers through his fur in a way you knew Suna enjoyed.

A rumbling purr escaped his throat and you couldn’t help the pleased smile that crossed your lips at the sound as he pressed his way closer to your torso, entering the circle of your arms and keeping himself there. You were caught up in petting him for a moment and didn’t immediately notice, but after a few seconds you realized the room had gotten very quiet.

It had been quiet before, as cat hybrids didn’t make a lot of noise in general, but now it was almost deathly still outside the small purring sounds from the cat under your hands. You immediately froze and glanced up at Kiyoko who was watching the two of you with wide eyes.

“Is something wrong?” you asked, more than a bit concerned.

“You pet him,” Shimizu murmured, more to herself than to you.

“Should I not have?” you asked worriedly, moving to pull your hands away, “I’m sorry I didn’t realize. I pet my neighbor’s cat hybrid all the time when he’s in the mood for it.”

The cat hybrid under your hands made a noise of protest as you pulled your hands away, giving Shimizu what you assumed to be a rather annoyed look based on her baffled and slightly contrite expression.

“No,” she assured you quickly, “We like to be pet, physical affection is important to hybrids. It’s just that particular one doesn’t usually allow anyone to touch him.”

“Do you mind?” you asked the hybrid in question, holding out your hands again.

He gave an agreeing mew and pressed his head to your palm, which you assumed meant you could resume petting. The fur under your fingers was clearly well taken care of, soft and plush and you truly wouldn’t have minded continuing to pet him until he got sick of you.

However, you were interrupted by a furious yowling sound that immediately made you jump, your head snapping up to search for the source of the noise. It turned out to be another long haired fluffy cat, this one in shades of gold and white who came charging out of the halls and ran straight at you.

You didn’t even have a second to react as the cat that had been in your arms darted around to hide behind you. Not that it stopped the oncoming golden one who didn’t even bother to go around and instead went right over you, claws digging into your arm as he attempted to get at the silver one.

You let out a yelp of surprise and pain, as he launched himself off your shoulder at the silver cat behind you who immediately darted out of reach, running around you in dizzying circles with the golden one fast on his heels both of them yowling, hissing and spitting, clearly having some kind of argument.

It only took a moment for you to regain your bearings and decide you needed to put an end to whatever this was, since poor Shimizu didn’t look at all ready to step in, an utterly appalled look on her face. Luckily you had quick reflexes and managed to snag both cats around the middle and stand up quickly, the abrupt shift immediately silencing both, no doubt shocked by your interruption.

“I think that’s quite enough of that,” you scolded firmly, as you hefted the two carefully, keeping them firmly separated. They were a bit heavier than they looked but certainly not too much for you to keep aloft.

“You,” you scolded the golden one, gently shaking him, who had turned to stare up at you with wide copper colored eyes, “I don’t know what he did to you or why, but I’m sure whatever it was could’ve been resolved without the ruckus. I also don’t appreciate being climbed on or used as a spring board.

“And you,” you gently shook the silver one in turn, who looked equally surprised to be addressed, “I’m not sure if he deserved whatever you did or not, but you shouldn’t have been causing a ruckus either, and I don’t appreciate you using me as a shield.”

“From what I understand, in order to be here you have to be considered adults,” you continued firmly, “So I suggest you act like it, and figure this out between yourselves without dragging innocent bystanders into your mess!”

With that you loosened your grip, fully expecting both of them to jump to the floor. However, both continued to simply hang limply in your grasp, watching you with curious eyes that you realized rather abruptly were almost completely identical.

“Siblings huh?” you asked no one in particular, nodding to yourself, “I suppose that explains a lot.”

“Are you alright?” Shimizu asked you worriedly, “You’re bleeding.”

A quick glance at your arm showed you were indeed bleeding, small pinpricks of blood welling up from where the golden cat had dug his claws into you. It stung a bit, but you didn’t think it was too bad.

“I’m alright,” you assured her, kneeling down and releasing both cats, since they seemed disinclined to continue fighting, and you wanted your hands free, “Though I’d appreciate some disinfectant and some band aids if you’ve got them.”

“Of course,” Shimizu assured you with a quick nod, “Just let me get them and I’ll be right back.”

The elegant hybrid moved with enviable grace and speed as she exited the room, leaving you alone. A quick look around the room showed that almost every eye was now on you, and you heaved a sigh, not exactly pleased to be the center of attention, especially since none of them did anything but stare, none of them bothering to approach, just look.

You glanced down in surprise when you felt something touching your leg, only to find the golden cat headbutting your shin, rubbing his face against your calf affectionately as he twined his way through your legs.

“Does that mean you’re sorry,” you asked, crouching back down and offering your hands to the pretty, fluffy cat.

He immediately rubbed his face against your hands too, which you took as permission to continue your petting, rubbing your hand affectionately over his head and earning a happy purr from the feline who arched happily into your hands.

You were distracted from your petting by a paw, which came to rest on one of your wrists, the silver cat watching with obvious envy in his pretty copper colored eyes. Luckily for both of you, you had two hands, and you reached out to pet him too after assuring it was okay. The golden cat clearly wasn’t too happy about his brother’s presence, but didn’t kick up a fuss, instead pressing himself closer and becoming more insistent as he purred ever louder. The silver cat didn’t seemed to pay him any attention though, simply soaking up your attention and affection.

“Here,” Shimizu offered as she came back, first aid kit in hand, “Do you need any help getting bandaged up?”

You were about to accept her offer, as attempting to bandage your dominant arm was always a pain, when you felt something strange under your hand. You turned your attention back to the cat hybrids you’d been petting just in time to see the silver one shift, form becoming large, limbs extending, body lengthening and bulking up until he stood in front of you in human form.

You blinked, utterly startled as you stared up at him, taking in his appearance. He was incredibly handsome in his human form, with the same silvery grey hair as his fur in cat form in an undercut and bright bronze eyes that peered out at you from under heavy lids. He had a strong, slightly square jaw and thick eyebrows, with blunt cheekbones and cupids bow lips.

He was also surprisingly big, at least six feet tall, and maybe a bit more than that, with broad shoulders and a trim waist. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt that clung to his chest, showing off the definition of his muscles. To top it all off he had two cat ears poking out from his silvery hair and a fluffy tail that was slowly waving back and forth as he looked at you.

“I’ll do it,” he told the two of you, his voice pleasant and lightly accented, his hand held out to Kiyoko gesturing for her to pass him the first aid kit, “I’ll bandage ya up. It’s only fair since the moron who scratched ya is too busy bein’ pampered.”

That earned a hiss from the golden cat, who immediately began to shift under your hands. You watched in surprise and no small amount of awe as he turned into a carbon copy of the other man who’d appeared, only with golden hair, ears and tail. You’d realized the two were related, but you hadn’t realized they were identical twins. Twins were really rare for hybrids, even more rare than human twins. As such they were usually snapped up for adoption right away, so it was rare to see them in any sort of center.

“If ya hadn’t stolen my puddin’ I wouldn’t have chased ya and scratched her in the first place,” the golden cat hybrid hissed at his brother.

“Well if ya hadn’t eaten my onigiri, maybe I wouldn’t have had to eat yer puddin’” the silver haired one retorted, his tone and expression both flatter compared to his sibling who looked like he might lunge at his twin at any moment.

Not wanting to get in the middle of a literal cat fight you held your own hand out to Kiyoko, who gratefully placed the first aid kit in your hands, then plopped down to sit cross legged on the floor. Your sudden movement startled both cat hybrids who turned to look at you, but you pointedly ignored them as you worked on opening the kit, and pulling out the things you’d need.

“Here I got it,” the golden haired one told you, plopping down beside you, “That scrub ain’t right about a lot of things, but he is right about this. I scratched ya, and I should fix ya.”

You gratefully held your arm out to him, and watched as he gently dabbed the scratches with disinfectant, grimacing slightly at the sting. You were distracted enough by his careful movements that you almost didn’t notice the other twin, right up until he gently smeared Neosporin over the scratches, placing small bandages over the deeper punctures.

“Thank you,” you told them both when they finished, automatically reaching up to pet their heads, but then pausing as you realized the gesture might not be as welcome in their human form.

Your worries were quickly allayed through as the golden one practically fell into your palm, soft, happy purring noises leaving his mouth as you gently scratched the base of his ears. His twin however didn’t immediately move for you, and you turned concerned eyes on him, worried he might be offended. The minute he saw you looking though he immediately leaned forward, pressing his head to your palm, his own soft purrs leaving his throat as you carded your fingers through his hair.

“I’m back,” a familiar voice sang, the door to the room sliding open to reveal Sugawara, with a cheerful grin on his face, a grin that was immediately replaced by wide eyed shock as he saw you and the two hybrids who were nearly in your lap with how close they were pressing towards you.

However, shock melted into fury as his eyes saw the open first aid kit and the bandages on your arm, his words nearly a hiss as he demanded, “What happened?!”

Both hybrids immediately stiffened under your hands, drawing closer to you, either looking to protect you or looking for protection you weren’t sure. Either way you allowed it, rubbing your hands over the backs of their necks in a way that always seemed to sooth Suna as you answered, “We just had a bit of a mishap is all, but we’ve cleared it up.”

“Are you sure?” Sugawara demanded anxiously, “We were told when they were brought in that they’d had a bit of trouble before, but they never mentioned that they might attack humans.”

The golden-haired twin seemed to bristle, and if he were in cat form you were sure all his fur would be puffed out as he glared at Sugawara. His twin didn’t look nearly as bothered on the surface, but close as you were, you could see how tight the muscles in his neck and shoulders were as if he was about to spring forward at any moment.

Instinctively you pulled the golden twin toward you, tipping him over into your lap. Despite his size it wasn’t all that difficult given he’d been practically leaning all his weight on you. He let out a yelp of surprise, but stayed still as you buried your fingers in his hair, keeping his cheek pillowed on your thigh. Your other hand gently squeezed the back of the silver twin’s neck, both holding him still and reminding him of your presence.

“It wasn’t an attack, simply an accident,” you assured Sugawara, as you soothed your thumb over the tense muscles of the silver one’s neck, hoping to get him to relax, “A bit like what happened with the dog hybrid earlier.”

“If you’re sure,” Sugawara told you, watching your pet the twins with wide eyes, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing, “Does that mean you’ve decided to take them then? I know you were a little worried about adopting one hybrid so I never imagined you’d want two at once.”

“What?” you asked, a little overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of information, and the assumption he’d made.

“You’d have to take both of them,” Sugawara explained gently, “Admittedly sometimes twins are separated, but we don’t do that unless they want to be separated, and in this case both of them have stated they want to stay together.”

“That makes sense,” you agreed, with a smile. It was good that the center accommodated things like that, and you made a mental note to thank Ojirou for directing you to such an upstanding place.

“Should I get paperwork started?” Sugawara asked, with an answering smile, “If you’re taking the twins it will take a bit more work than usual, so I’d like to get started right away. No pressure though, you don’t have to make a decision today if you don’t want to.”

“I hadn’t really thought about adopting them,” you admitted, and felt both twins stiffen under your hands, so hurried to reassure them, “We haven’t had a chance to chat much yet. I’d like to talk to them a little bit first before we make any decisions.”

“Of course,” the kindly hybrid agreed with an understanding nod, “We’ll give the three of you some space and let you get to know one another a bit better.”

“Thank you,” you told him politely, waiting until he’d ushered Kiyoko a little bit away, clearly trying to give you some sense of privacy despite the fact that they were still well within earshot for hybrids, and likely interrogate the elegant female about what exactly had happened while he was gone.

“Do ya not want us,” the golden haired one asked you, once the two were gone, rolling over in your lap to peer up at you with wide copper eyes, the hint of a pout on his lips, and a little bit of hurt in his eyes.

“I don’t know yet,” you told him honestly, gently stroking his golden hair away from his eyes, “We don’t know each other, yet do we? Do you even know if you want to come with me?”

The two cat hybrids glanced at each other, clearly communicating silently with each other for a moment before turning back to you. The golden haired one had apparently been elected spokesperson because he was the one to admit, “We wouldn’t mind goin’ home with ya.”

“But you don’t even know my name, do you? And I don’t know yours either,” you pointed out, utterly baffled that they’d apparently already decided.

“I heard mister pleasant over there when he introduced ya,” the silver haired one told you with a shrug, “But if it matters so much to ya, I’m Miya Osamu and he’s Atsumu.”

“I can introduce myself ya know,” the golden haired on hissed, doing his best to glare at his brother, though you were sure the effect was entirely lost considering he was apparently refusing to move from your lap and was upside down, “And I didn’t get to hear yer name.”

“That’s because ya were sulkin’ in our room,” Osamu pointed out.

“And whose fault is that huh?” Atsumu demanded with a grimace.

“Yer own,” Osamu countered, looking utterly bored as he peered down at his brother. Atsumu made to lunge out of your lap, but was stopped by your hand pressed firmly to his forehead holding him in place. You took advantage of his moment of distraction to introduce yourself, gently rubbing behind his ears until he started purring again.

“And ya wonder why we want to go with ya,” Osamu told you sardonically, watching the two of you, “I ain’t ever seen anybody who could get ahold of Tsumu like that.”

“Do the two of you always squabble like that?” you asked, a little amused and a little concerned, “If I didn’t know better I would’ve thought one of you was a dog hybrid with how well you’re getting along right now.”

“It ain’t always so bad,” Osamu told you, turning his face away though you thought you saw the faintest hint of pink to his cheeks, “We’re just a little restless is all. We haven’t been here long so it’s just new, not as much freedom as we’re used to either bein’ cooped up for most of the day.”

“Surely they let you out if you want out,” you questioned, a little appalled that the center might be keeping hybrids like prisoners.

“Well sure,” Osamu answered turning back to you, his head tilted to the side as he studied you, “But there are only so many places a hybrid is allowed without an owner ya know.”

You winced slightly at the blunt statement, but couldn’t refute it. The law stated that all hybrids had to have a registered owner, and it was then up to that owner to set limits on the hybrid, about where they could go and what they could do. This was because if the hybrid caused any trouble, it was always on its owner to take responsibility which made things quite limited for them at times. There were lobbyists working to change that of course, as it was viewed as inhumane, but for now the law was the law.

“Did you have more freedom before here then?” you asked curiously, “I’ve heard this place is pretty good.”

“It’s not bad,” Atsumu piped in, his voice content and rumbly as he turned languid eyes in your direction, clearly not wanting to be left out of the conversation, “Better than the first center we were at when we first went up for adoption.”

“So you’ve been adopted before? Or did you just get moved from one of the other centers?” you asked curiously, only to have Atsumu go absolutely rigid under your hands as Osamu hissed at him, clearly angry with his brother, who’d apparently revealed something he shouldn’t if the way he shrank away instead of hissing back said anything.

You glanced between the two of them warily, unsure what to do as Atsumu pulled himself out of your lap so he could look at Osamu. The two of them were clearly communicating, both their tails swishing back and forth in clear agitation.

“We had an owner,” Osamu admitted at last, his words clearly careful as he peered at you from underneath the fringe of his hair, “But we didn’t get along with him so he surrendered us ta the shelter again and they sent us here.”

A part of you really wanted to ask why exactly they hadn’t gotten along with their old owner, but given the way Atsumu was refusing to meet your eyes, his nails practically digging into his thighs where he sat next to you, you got the feeling it would be kinder not to. Instead you carefully redirected the conversation back on topic and asked, “And what makes you think you’ll get along better with me than your previous owner?”

“Yer nothin’ like him,” Osamu told you bluntly, effectively shutting that avenue of conversation down.

“If you say so,” you told him calmly, holding his gaze until he glanced away, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

It was clearly a sensitive topic, and you didn’t want to push. You’d just met the two of them today after all, you certainly wouldn’t have liked it if they tried to pry into your past, fair was fair after all.

“What do you picture yourselves doing all day?” you asked instead, figuring you might as well.

“Doing?” Atsumu repeated confused, tilting his head in a manner that you couldn’t help but find rather adorable.

“I’ll be at work most of the day during the week,” you explained patiently, “Which means you’ll be by yourselves for quite a bit of time. You’d be more than welcome to laze around if you really wanted to, but I figured I’d ask.”

“What kind of things are we allowed to do?” Osamu asked slowly, a strange look on his face that you couldn’t quite interpret.

“Anything within reason,” you told him with a helpless shrug, “I have money, it’s not an issue, so long as it’s legal, and doesn’t have the potential to hurt me, you or anyone else then I see no reason to place restrictions. My neighbor has a dog-hybrid who works a small rice farm that Ojirou bought him, but his cat-hybrid Suna spends most of his time either lounging around their apartment or playing sports with some of the other hybrids who live in the neighborhood.”

“Which sport?” Atsumu asked, eyes bright, all hesitation forgotten in the face of this new information.

“Volleyball I think,” you told him with a shrug, “Ojirou and I have gone to watch a few games, though I don’t think it’s just volleyball either.”

If Atsumu had been a dog-hybrid you were sure his tail would’ve been wagging a hundred miles an hour with how eager he looked, copper eyes bright in his face as he told you, “I like volleyball. Do you think he’d let me play?”

“You’d have to take it up with Suna, but I don’t see why he wouldn’t,” you admitted cautiously, earning a happy smile from the hybrid.

“What about you Osamu?” you prompted gently, “Do you play too, or is there something else you’re interested in?”

The silver furred hybrid looked startled to be addressed, but then slowly admitted, “I like to cook.”

“That’s amazing,” you praised, “I live on take out a lot of the time, unless I’m headed over to Ojirou’s or Kita, his dog-hybrid makes an extra bento for me. I really should cook more, but I tend to be on the go a lot and don’t want to dedicate the time.”

“It’s a bit of a shame though,” you admitted, feeling more than a bit sheepish, “One of the best features of my apartment is the kitchen and I hardly ever use it.”

You continued to chat lightly with the twins learning quite a bit about the two of them in the process. Atsumu was definitely the louder twin, always eager and a bit blunt with his words, always saying the first thing that came to mind. Osamu was quieter than his twin, letting his golden furred brother do most of the talking for the two of them. He wasn’t necessarily shy per se, and would answer when spoken to, but he seemed content for the most part to quietly observe before adding his two cents in.

The two of them together were utterly charming, which made you wonder just how they hadn’t been adopted yet. You were fairly sure it must have something to do with the reason they’d been returned to their adoption center, though for the life of you, you couldn’t guess what that reason might’ve been.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Sugawara cut in gently, interrupting Atsumu telling you all about the last volleyball game he’d played in, “But the center is closing to visitors in a few minutes.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized immediately, hurriedly scrambling to your feet, feeling more than a bit guilty, “I hadn’t realized how late it had gotten.”

“That’s alright,” Sugawara assured you with a kind smile, “It sounds like the three of you are getting along well.”

“I think so,” you admitted, glancing at the twins who’d both risen to their feet as well, both of them far more graceful than you could ever hope to be.

Both of them were watching you, Atsumu with tentative hope clear on his face, and Osamu completely unreadable except for the agitated twitch of his tail which told you he wasn’t pleased your conversation had been interrupted.

“I’m glad,” Sugawara told you, “Do we have any kind of decision made?”

“I…” you started glancing between the twins, who were both looking at you. Gut instinct meant you wanted to say yes. You’d gotten along well and you thought you might continue to enjoy one another’s company. They seemed like they’d slot into your life pretty easily. However you were still a bit hesitant. Adopting one hybrid had seemed like a big deal, but adopting two?

Plus you’d only met them today. Maybe you were being overly cautious but a single day didn’t seem like nearly enough time to get to know someone before inviting them to live with you, no matter how much your heart urged you to say yes.

“Actually, it doesn’t matter,” Sugawara interrupted, an apologetic expression on his face, pulling you from your thoughts as he explained, “We wouldn’t have time to finish the paperwork before it’s time to close, so you wouldn’t be able to take them home with you anyway, not today at least.”

“But…!” Atsumu tried to protest, but quelled as Sugawara shot him a stern look.

“I think that it will be good for all of you to sleep on your decision,” the cat-hybrid told all three of you firmly, gently beginning to usher you from the room, before telling you, “You can come back tomorrow if you like. We’re open at the same times then.”

“Alright,” you agreed, following after him without a fuss, only to pause in your tracks at a heartbreaking mewling sound.

You turned around to see Atsumu staring after you with devastation written all over his handsome features, his hand outstretched like he was trying to reach out and physically stop you from leaving. Before you’d really thought about it your feet had carried you back, and you’d pulled the hybrid into your arms.

Atsumu clutched you tightly, burying his face in your neck and rubbing his cheek against yours in a move you recognized as scenting. You let him do as he pleased without protest, gently running your fingers through his soft golden hair. However, you were conscious of Sugawara waiting for you, so you gently extracted yourself after a few minutes.

Turning you saw Osamu watching you with an unreadable expression on his face, but you stepped toward him, offering your open arms anyway, waiting patiently. You were rewarded for that patience as he stepped into your hold, nuzzling at you the same way his twin had on the opposite side.

“I’ll come back,” you found yourself promising, “I have work tomorrow, but after I’ll be here.”

Osamu drew back and peered into your face, copper eyes boring into your own, clearly searching for something before nodding, “We’ll hold ya to that.”

You let Sugawara usher you out after that, but found yourself tearing up a bit as you followed after him. You desperately didn’t want to leave the twins behind. Somehow, someway you’d gotten terribly attached to them in just a few short hours.

Your sniffling apparently caught Sugawara’s attention, because he turned around and hurriedly fumbled a packet of tissues from one of his pockets.

“I’m sorry,” he told you apologetically, “I thought maybe you wanted more time to think things over. We can still do paperwork tonight if you want I don’t mind staying a bit late.”

You looked at him, startled that he’d apparently picked up on your hesitation as you gratefully accepted the tissues, dabbing at your eyes and blowing your nose before replying, “No, no you’re right. It’s not a decision I should make impulsively. I do want to think it over I just…”

You trailed off helplessly, unsure what to say or how to explain that you’d gotten incredibly attached and were currently having a crisis as your head and heart were at war with each other. However, Sugawara apparently understood as he nodded in clear sympathy.

“Don’t worry,” he assured you, “That’s completely understandable, adopting a hybrid is no small thing. Those troublesome twins will still be here waiting for you tomorrow, so take all the time you need to think it over.”

“I will,” you told him, then tacked on sincerely, “Thank you, for all your help today. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he told you with a bright, pleased smile as he walked you to the door, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow,” you agreed with a smile, letting yourself out and heading back for your car.

The drive home your thoughts were absolutely full of the twins, and what it might be like to have them with you. Your heart and your mind were at war with one another, your heart desperate to run back to the center as soon as it opened in the morning for the cat hybrids, and your head worrying about what it might mean to have both of them and why they’d been returned to the center by their previous owner.

You were so preoccupied with your thoughts that you almost didn’t notice Suna as you walked passed Ojirou’s door, headed to your own.

“What is that?” Suna demanded, his voice making you pause in your tracks.

“What is what?” you asked him baffled as he strode toward you nose in the air, clearly picking up something.

“You smell like hybrid,” he informed you his tone accusatory, watching you with narrowed golden eyes.

“Do I?” you asked mildly.

“You do,” he affirmed, “Doesn’t she Kita?”

“Doesn’t she what?” the collie hybrid asked, emerging from somewhere deeper in the apartment.

“Smell like hybrid,” Suna explained, his tail twitching languidly behind him and eyes alight with interest.

“You do,” Kita agreed, after carefully scenting the air, “Two of them actually.”

“Really?” Suna asked, clearly surprised, moving closer to sniff at you again, “You sure?”

You held still, too used to his behavior to be bothered by it, partly amused and partly annoyed at the cat hybrid who was clearly digging for information.

“Yes I’m sure,” Kita told him calmly, “They’re very similar, but there.”

“They’re identical twins,” you explained, figuring the jig was up anyway, and hoping maybe Ojirou or Kita would have some advice that might help you with your quandary.

“Ho?” Suna asked a purr of interest in his voice as he inhaled and nodded to himself, then asked slyly, “And what were you doing with these twins to have their scent on you so thoroughly?”

“Is Ojirou home?” you asked Kita, completely ignoring Suna’s question, earning a chuckle of amusement from the Siamese.

“He’s here,” Kita agreed, “Did you need to speak with him?”

“Both of you, if you have a minute?” you questioned hopefully.

“For you? Always,” Kita assured you kindly ushering you in.

“Oya, I think I’m hurt,” Suna told you as he followed along behind, a feline smirk on his face, “What about me? Don’t you want my advice too? After all they’re cat hybrids aren’t they?”

“They are,” you agreed with a huff as you plopped into your normal chair, “But are you going to give me good advice, or are you going to say whatever you think will be most amusing for you?”

“What’s this about cat-hybrids?” Ojirou asked, emerging from the hallway, where Kita had gone to fetch him.

“She’s thinking about adopting twin cat-hybrids,” Suna informed him before you had the chance to speak up, smug as the cat who got the canary.

“Are you really?” Ojirou questioned with a grin, taking his own seat.

“Yes,” you agreed, shooting the smug Siamese a look for interrupting and stealing your thunder, “I went to that adoption center you recommended today.”

“That’s great,” Ojirou told you, leaning forward in his chair eagerly, “How did it go?”

You explained your meeting with the twins, happily accepting the drink Kita pressed into your hands, which was your favorite, as the collie hybrid got everyone settled and then settled in himself to listen. You talked about how much you liked them, but your wariness about getting not one but two hybrids, and the strange issue with them having a previous owner and being so cagey about it.

“I can see why you’re wary about used goods,” Suna noted.

“Don’t call them that,” you snapped, despite the fact that you could hear the tinge of sarcasm in his voice and knew he didn’t really mean it, unable to help yourself, “people aren’t like items, and shouldn’t be treated like them.”

“She’s right,” Kita told the Siamese sternly, “Even as a joke, that was a rude way to refer to them.”

Suna slouched in his seat, looking thoroughly chastised as he admitted, “I know you don’t see them like that. You’ve always treated us just like normal people.”

“That’s because you are just like normal people,” you told him, stroking your fingers through his hair to let him know you forgave him, “Just with enhanced senses and a different set of instincts at times.”

“I don’t know why you think you need our advice,” Ojirou pointed out reasonably, “It sounds like you’ve pretty much already made up your mind, you clearly adore them already.”

“It’s just a lot,” you admitted, “Do you think I can handle twin hybrids? Especially since I’ve never even had one before? I mean, I’m not like you, none of my family ever had one growing up, and the only ones I really know are Kita, Suna, and a couple that come into the office with Tendou from time to time.”

“We’re not exactly children,” Kita reasoned, logically, “We don’t actually require all that much care outside of the basics, which I know you’re monetarily able to provide, and companionship, which is the whole reason you decided to seek out a hybrid in the first place. One or two, does it really matter? It might even be better as they’ll be able to keep each other company if they get lonely when you’re gone, and I see no reason we can’t help you look after them too.”

“You’d do that?” you asked the collie hybrid, surprised.

“Of course,” he agreed with a tiny smile, “We’re friends are we not?”

You smiled at him, touched, and extremely reassured by his ever cool logic. It did make sense, and quelled some of your worries, plus knowing the extremely reliable hybrid would help you out if you needed it was incredibly comforting.

“I wouldn’t worry about them being returned to their center,” Suna told you, surprisingly serious, “Hybrids get returned for all sorts of reasons, but most of the time its owner incompatibility rather than behavioral issues. Plus that center wouldn’t let you adopt them if they thought they’d give you trouble.”

“But Sugawara did say they’d heard the twins gave someone trouble,” you admitted, recalling the conversation with the worried cat-hybrid.

“Yes, but they didn’t give you trouble,” Suna pointed out, “We cat hybrids tend to make up our minds pretty quickly about people. It sounds like they decided they liked you, and unless something really terrible happens they’ll keep liking you, we’re terribly stubborn that way.”

“If you’re really worried you can always ask the center about it,” Ojirou told you, “They keep records, and would probably tell you, especially if it’s a concern about their adoptability.”

“I don’t want to pry into something and lose their trust,” you admitted, even as part of you was incredibly tempted to do just that.

“Then maybe try asking if the center if they think whatever the issue was, will be an issue with you,” Suna reasoned, “And if they say no then let it lie and adopt them, and if they say maybe or yes, then tell the twins you can’t accept them if they can’t tell you what the issue was.”

“That seems fair to me,” Kita agreed with a nod, “Just make sure you’re honest and tell them you asked, just in case.”

“Okay,” you agreed, letting out a relieved breath, “Okay that sounds really reasonable to me. It’s just… do you think I’m rushing into this too fast? I mean going to the center today was an impulse.”

“I don’t think so,” Ojirou assured her thoughtfully, “You’ve been thinking about it for a while, haven’t you?”

“She’s put so much thought into it she’s actually over thought it,” Suna interjected wryly before you had a chance to answer.

You made a face at him but couldn’t actually argue. He might have a point about overthinking it. Reassured you spent a good couple hours talking with your neighbor and the two hybrids as they answered more of your questions, and you told them about the twins.

Eventually however you headed home, determined now to get at least a little bit prepared for the arrival of your two new housemates tomorrow. Luckily it wasn’t dirty, but running a load of laundry and doing a little vacuuming never hurt anyone. You didn’t have a whole lot for them and didn’t know what kind of things they might have or need, but hopefully your office with pull out futon and guest bedroom would suffice for now until you could take them shopping.

Falling into bed that night you let yourself feel your excitement for the first time. You were adopting a hybrid, not just one but adorable twin hybrids. You couldn’t wait to bring them home and maybe put an end to your loneliness once and for all.

Osamu glanced slowly around the room, trying not to look at his twin, the clock, or the doors to the main area of the shared living space the way Atsumu was. Yesterday had been a bit of a revelation. He’d never actually expected to approach the woman who’d shown up looking to adopt. After what happened with their last owner he’d never expected to ever actually want to be adopted again. However, somehow he’d found himself entranced by her, and he had no one but himself to blame.

When he’d initially strolled over, it was because he’d known via his bond to his older twin that he’d finally realized that Osamu had snagged his pudding for himself and was throwing a fit about it. He’d thought that his twin wouldn’t dare make a fuss if he was with a potential owner.

The rules of this place were pretty lax compared to the first center they’d lived in. It allowed them a lot more freedoms. It let them come and go from their rooms as they pleased rather than on a regimented schedule, and allowed them to turn down any potential adopter that they didn’t like, which had felt utterly shocking and unprecedented when he’d first been told about it. They gave them a small allowance they could spend or save as they chose, and even let them deal with their heats and ruts in whatever way they chose, including with other tenants so long as birth control was used.

It honestly felt like heaven compared to the first center they’d been at, and maybe even better than living with their previous owner even before everything had gone to shit. He wasn’t sure he’d even ever wanted to leave, which he’d been assured by several other tenants was also an option if he so desired.

However, the one rule that was the same between both centers was that they weren’t allowed to cause trouble with the humans that came looking to adopt. This was only good sense considering how much the law favored humans in cases of hybrid vs human issues. However, unlike the first center they’d lived, this one at least didn’t threaten to put them down if they misbehaved.

They’d been young back then, everyone in that center was, all of them below the age of twenty-one, because anyone who reached their twenty-second birthday disappeared and was never seen again. Thus he hadn’t known it was actually against the law to kill hybrids, none of them had known and the caretakers had perpetuated the rumor that those who reached twenty-two were killed instead of shipped off to other centers in order to make them that much more desperate to be adopted.

It had made him more than a bit bitter once he’d been with their new owner long enough to learn more about what was and wasn’t allowed when it came to human hybrid interactions. The man had actually found their previous beliefs amusing and had laughed at them more than once for being so naïve.

It was positively galling, and had made his hackles rise more than once. However he’d known better than to lash out and had better impulse control than Atsumu who’d been punished by their previous owner more than once for acting aggressively. Fortunately, Osamu had never liked being made fun of, and spite was a powerful motivator, meaning he’d practically memorized any and all of the laws that had to do with hybrids.

It meant the few times their owner had toed the line with Atsumu’s punishments that he’d been able to cite the law to pull him back, right up until their owner had decided he no longer cared and pushed too far, leading to them being removed from his home and put back up for adoption at this new center.

They had been here for just over a month and while several people had been interested in adopting the ‘rare gold and silver hybrid twins’ he had absolutely refused to engage with any of them. It was probably why that female alpha hybrid had been so shocked when he’d first approached.

He’d fully intended to just use the human to keep Atsumu at bay, right up until she’d crouched down and offered her hands to him and he’d gotten a whiff of her scent. He’d known from the few lessons their ma had bothered to teach them that hybrids relied a lot more on their sense of smell than humans did, and that scent was the basis of the instinct that told them who would be a good mate and who wouldn’t.

He’d originally thought compatibility could only be found with other hybrids, after all he’d met plenty of humans before both when he’d lived in the adoption centers and with his previous owner and never once had he gotten a hint of compatibility with any of them. He thought he could be forgiven for completely losing his head and giving over to his instincts as he caught the scent of the most compatible person he’d ever met.

Her scent was honestly indescribable, and his instincts had him purring within seconds as he tried to rub her scent all over himself. She’d obliged, petting him with fingers that had felt magical, her touch kind and soothing and perfect as she rubbed his ears, carded fingers through his fur and rubbed her hand along his back.

He’d been lost in a dizzy haze of touch and scent and probably would’ve remained that way if not for the fury of his brother, which had jolted him out of it. It had been like a bucket of cold water dumped over his head pulling him from his happy haze and reminding him of the whole reason he’d come up to the human in the first place.

He probably should’ve run off, but hadn’t been able to bring himself to move very far, instead darting around to hide behind her. He’d thought that once Atsumu saw her he’d stop and at least hold off attempting to get vengeance until later, but he’d overestimated his brother again, who was apparently more incensed than he’d guessed about the lost pudding.

Instinct had kicked in and before he’d really thought about it he was running away from his brother, darting around her legs in a game of chase that was both amusing and a bit annoying, especially when he could tell how much it was pissing his brother off, his sibling’s annoyance pulsing down their bond in waves of sparks.

He wasn’t sure how long it would’ve continued, as they’d actually run around like this until someone got tired before, usually Atsumu as he got fed up and didn’t have the patience to keep going. However, he’d suddenly found himself plucked right up into the air.

He’d been amused when she’d scolded Atsumu, though the amusement had faded a bit when she’d decided to scold him too, leaving him feeling properly chastised. He’d been more than a bit pissed off with his brother when he’d realized the nice smelling woman was bleeding because of him, though there’d also been a small frisson of fear, wondering what the consequences would be.

However, to his surprise she hadn’t actually seemed all that angry with either of them. Instead she’d immediately accepted Atsumu’s apologies as his brother, who’d managed to get a lungful of her scent had cuddled up to her. He could feel Atsumu’s deep interest in the human. His brother clearly also scented compatibility with her, which wasn’t surprising given they’d shared almost everything else in their lives.

He’d found himself more than a little bit jealous as he’d watched his brother soak up her attention. It had always been like that to an extent. Atsumu had always been the more outgoing one, the one who attracted attention, who wore his heart on his sleeve and somehow managed to win people over despite his often crass personality. Osamu had always kind of faded into the background as he was much quieter and had better control over his emotions, the silver to his gold, the shadow to his light.

Normally he didn’t mind, but this time being forgotten had stung. They’d always competed with each other, but most of the time he’d been humoring his brother, or simply hadn’t wanted Atsumu to win rather than wanting the prize of winning himself. This time though it had felt like more than that. No way was he going to let his brother steal her all to himself.

Before he’d really thought about it he’d reached out a paw, and to her credit she’d immediately offered him a sweet smile and resumed her wonderful petting. Atsumu hadn’t been pleased, but he hadn’t cared a bit.

It hadn’t surprised him at all that when Shimizu had come back with the first aid kit that Atsumu had insisted on taking over when he’d been the one to offer first. The two of them had continued to quietly compete over her attention as they fixed up her scratches, though he could at least feel his brother’s guilt for inflicting them on her in the first place, which did help sooth some of his annoyance with his older twin.

It was utterly gratifying that even when she had Atsumu literally in the palm of her hand, she’d still looked for him too. He’d tried to shove the feeling down and away, trying to remind himself that neither he nor his brother actually wanted another owner, but found it wasn’t working well. The combination of her scent and her fingers as she massaged her fingers through his hair enough to make him want to curl up in her lap and never leave.

He’d thought they might get in trouble when Sugawara returned. His fellow silver cat-hybrid belonged to the owner of the center, and took his job very seriously. He wouldn’t allow any of them to make trouble, and while he respected him, and admittedly envied him a bit for the clear trusting and loving relationship he had with his owner it didn’t stop him from wanting to claw his eyes out for bringing up their past in front of her.

Right when he was considering attempting to verbally eviscerate the other hybrid and damn the consequences his brother’s shock had pulled him from his thoughts, and he turned just in time to see her pull his twin into her lap. The feel of her hand gently squeezing his neck from behind practically made him limp with pleasure as Atsumu’s own bliss at being so close to her combined with his own to thoroughly distract the two of them, though not so much he didn’t notice her excusing their behavior and ensuring they didn’t get in trouble.

However, both of them had snapped to attention when the other hybrid had asked her if she wanted to adopt the two of them. He’d been able to feel his twin’s building hope, his impulsive brother apparently forgetting all about not wanting another owner, already clearly more than half in love with her despite not even knowing her for a day.

It was a trait he both hated and envied in his twin, the ability to be so impulsive, to move on so quickly and let go of past hurts. It wasn’t something he was capable of. He knew he was a grudge holder and far slower to trust than his brother was. He liked to think it served him well and kept him from being as naïve as Atsumu could be, though there were times it made things difficult too.

He’d been unsure whether he wanted her to state her intention to adopt them or not, right up until she’d said she hadn’t even considered it. It stung more than he’d expected, his own small hurt amplified by his brother’s though both of them had been somewhat soothed by her explanation that she wanted to know them better.

It was extremely reasonable and made him like her all the more, knowing she was the cautious type, more like him than like Atsumu, even if he simultaneously wished she’d been a little more impulsive just this one time and said yes instead. Though he found himself heartened by her honesty. That she’d actually asked them if they wanted to go with her rather than making any sort of assumption had settled things for him.

He hadn’t needed Atsumu’s silent pleading to forget their original plans to agree that maybe they should give this human a chance, though it did make it easier in the end to agree as he wasn’t the only one who wanted it.

They’d both tried to win her over, and though they’d accidentally fallen into squabbling more than once she’d handled it like a champ, not at all put off and even amused by it if the smile was any indication. However, despite the fact that they were the ones trying to win her over, it seemed every word she spoke was actually meant to win them over instead.

She was nothing like their previous owner, who’d been strict with his rules and harsh with his punishments. In fact she didn’t speak about punishments at all. He wasn’t naïve enough to think there wouldn’t be any if they misbehaved, but the freedoms she was offering in turn more than made up for anything she might throw their way.

The biggest hiccup had been when Atsumu mentioned their previous owner. The horror and guilt he’d felt from his twin was the only reason he’d managed to keep himself from doing more than hiss at him. His stomach had sunk when she’d gently pressed them for answers, but he knew they had to give her something.

He’d tried to give her as little as possible unwilling to volunteer the information, both because he hated even thinking about their time with their previous owner and because he was afraid she might somehow decide she didn’t want them because of it. In the end she’d changed the subject herself, and not brought it up again, but as she’d walked away from them with Sugawara, leaving them behind he’d wondered rather despairingly if that hadn’t been a mistake.

It didn’t matter that she’d turned around to comfort them when Atsumu had been unable to keep his heartbreak quiet. He’d known the minute she walked out the doors the chances of her coming back were slim to none. That was the other thing that remained consistent between this shelter and the last. Once a potential owner walked away claiming they needed to ‘think on it’ they never came back.

Still he hadn’t been able to turn away from her embrace, or to stop himself from scent marking the opposite side of your neck from the one his twin had claimed, laying his own personal stamp with the faint hope it would remind you to come back for them. However, no matter what you’d said, he couldn’t bring himself to hope. He knew hoping would only lead to more disappointment, and he wasn’t like Atsumu he wouldn’t be able to bounce back from it.

Not that his twin was making it easy on him. His brother’s hope was so fierce it was almost painful and he could feel the slightly desperate edge to it. He’d gotten attached to her, not that he could blame him, he was more attached than he wanted to be too. However unlike him, Atsumu had fill faith you were coming back, so much so he’d actually packed up his room into the bags they’d brought from his old place and was ready to go.

Nothing Osamu or any of the others, who also seemed to understand how small the chance was that she’d come back for them, said could sway him. The moment it had passed three o’clock Atsumu had brought hjs bags out to the shared living area and began to sit vigil, waiting for her to come back.

Stubborn as ever his twin had ignored all the pitying looks sent his way and the fact that slowly but surely time had slipped by, leaving just half an hour until they were supposed to close. Though his face was resolute, his brother wasn’t actually stupid and Osamu knew it was only stubborn pride keeping him in place. He could feel the slow onset of his twin’s hurt and despair as each minute ticked down.

He’d contemplated leaving him, going to his own room to wallow, but he knew he could never abandon his twin. They’d been through everything together, and he certainly wasn’t going to leave him now.

He was trying to figure out if he could coax his brother into leaving his post when the door swung open, revealing Sugawara, who had a wide beaming smile on his face. His fellow silver hybrid cast a quick glance behind him before ushering his follower into the room.

He barely caught a glimpse of her before his brother practically launched himself at her, but it was enough to freeze him in his place, because it was her. She’d actually come back after all.

His brother had wrapped himself around her, burying his face in her neck and clinging to her like favorite a stuffed toy, not that she seemed to mind, if the hands she was running over his hair and back meant anything. He couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, the words too quiet to hear over the sudden near painful hope and the rapid beat of his own heart at the thought that she’d come for them.

Atsumu’s joy was practically burning through him, combined with his restored faith and smug satisfaction that he’d been right all along about her coming back for them. It probably should’ve annoyed him, but he found that all he could really feel was a bone deep sort of relief.

“Where’s your brother?” she asked, as she finally managed to gently extract herself a bit from his twin’s embrace, though he noticed he didn’t let go entirely, one of his hands laced firmly with hers.

He immediately stood, letting himself fall back into his more human skin as he made his way toward them, not waiting for his brother to out him. She seemed to spot him immediately and the relieved smile on her face was enough to make his traitorous heart skip a beat.

“Osamu,” she greeted warmly, more warmly than he thought he’d ever been greeted by anyone before as she opened her free arm in an inviting gesture. It was maybe a little pathetic how readily he accepted that embrace, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, as he fell into her hold, face automatically nuzzling against the side of her neck that Atsumu had left unclaimed. A rumbling purr left his lips as he felt her press her face against his affectionately, as he allowed himself to cling to her for a bit.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she murmured to him quietly, her arm squeezing affectionately around his waist, genuine regret in her tone, “My boss made me stay a little longer than usual, and then there was an accident on the freeway. I called ahead though and Sugawara has almost all the paperwork done. I just need to collect the two of you, do some signing and we’ll go home okay?”

“Really? Yer takin’ us home?” he almost didn’t recognize his own voice given how weak it sounded, the quaver in it making him feel utterly ridiculous and overly emotional, something that was supposed to be his twin’s job, and frustrated him enough that he bit his lip nearly hard enough to bleed as he wrestled with himself, trying to get back in control of his emotions.

“Yeah, as long as you want to come, then I’ll gladly take you,” she offered with a gentle smile that made his heart squeeze nearly painfully in his chest, “Though there’s something I need to admit to first.”

He froze a little at that, staring at her anxiously as Atsumu also looked on, his blabbermouth brother finally silent and clearly wary. She carefully released him, though she still reached for his hand, peering between the two of them, anxious but also obviously determined. He allowed her to grasp her fingers, squeezing them automatically, anxiety making his heartrate skyrocket and bile rise in his throat.

“I asked the center about your previous owner,” she confessed, the words automatically making his heart drop, as he wondered numbly what they could’ve told her. Had she asked for the details? Was she afraid now? Had she changed her mind or decided to add some stipulations to their adoption?”

“I didn’t ask for details,” she clarified, her voice managing to cut through the haze of panic that had been rising in his chest, “All I asked was if they thought whatever had happened with your previous owner would cause trouble for me, or put any of us in any sort of danger.”

That didn’t actually sound so bad, and was even fairly reasonable the storm of hurt and anger that had been building behind his anxiety slowly dispersing the more he thought about it. He noticed that his grip on her hand had loosened a bit, and he retightened his hold, hoping the center had responded in a way that reassured her. Given that she was here, talking to them, he thought it wasn’t unreasonable to be hopeful.

“They said none of us would be in any danger, otherwise they never would’ve offered to take you both in, in the first place, and that they were sure you’d be alright with me,” she explained, her hand gently squeezing his in return.

He wasn’t sure if the bone deep relief he felt was his or his brother’s but he couldn’t bring himself to care, too caught up in the surging hope that followed it as she asked, “So, even knowing that I asked that, are the two of you still willing to come home with me?”

“O course we want to go with ya, right Samu?” his brother replied instantly, nuzzling into her neck insistently, clearly begging for attention, attention she seemed more than willing to give if the affectionate smile on her face was any indication. When she looked at him for confirmation all he could do was nod in agreement, unable to find the words for how very much he did want it and unwilling to sound ridiculous again.

The next half hour passed in a strange almost dream like haze, as he packed himself up, his smug brother clinging to her and gloating over how he was already finished, soaking up her attention as he made a mental note to get back at his annoying twin later. Once he finished packing all there really was, was a couple of signatures before he found himself in a nice car that was speeding along the highway.

Atsumu was chatting away in the front seat, practically bouncing as he asked their amused new owner anything that popped into his head as he tried to digest what had happened. Somehow, someway, they had an owner again.

You smiled to yourself as you listened to Atsumu babble away happily in the seat next to you. The golden furred twin hadn’t stopped bouncing since you’d showed up at the shelter, clearly over the moon that you’d come back for him. Osamu was quiet in the back seat, and you might’ve been worried he was happy to come with you if not for the way he’d scent marked you, almost frantically his hand clutched tightly to yours as you’d signed the paperwork to take them home.

It was pretty clear both twins had thought you weren’t coming back for them, and it had broken your heart a bit, and made you even more resolute that you’d done the right thing for all of you. You’d been anxious the whole day to get back to them, not nearly as focused on work as you probably should’ve been, which had been part of the reason for your delay in the first place.

You’d panicked more than a bit when you’d encountered the accident on the way there, afraid that you’d break your promise to the twins. It had only been Sugawara’s kind voice, assuring you that he’d start the paperwork while you drove and even stay open late if necessary for you to get there, that had kept your guilt and panic at bay.

Now that you had them with you weren’t quite sure how you felt. Dazed that it was actually happening, excited for what the future might bring, and a little anxious about all the changes you’d have to make in your life even as you looked forward to those changes more than anything.

However, before you headed for home there were a couple things you needed to do first. Luckily you would hopefully find everything you needed in one place, at least for today. You wanted to give them time to settle in a bit, more shopping could come later when they’d decided what they needed.

“Where’s this?” Atsumu asked, pausing in his excited babble to look at you with confusion, as you pulled into the large parking lot, “Ya don’t live here do ya?”

“Don’t be stupid,” his brother huffed from the backseat, “Yer gonna make her think we’re some kind of bumpkins, ya know what a mall is Tsumu.”

“O course I know what a mall is,” Atsumu blustered, twisting around in his seat to glare at his twin, “I just thought maybe she had an apartment nearby is all. Who knows how rich people live?”

You huffed in amusement, reaching out without thought to ruffle his ears affectionately. The golden haired hybrid froze for a minute under your touch, and you wondered if you’d done something wrong, freezing as well, before a rumbling purr left his chest as he pressed his head further into your hand.

“You’re too cute,” you murmured almost to yourself as you gently scratched his ears and stroked your hand over his face and neck, unable to keep the smile from your lips.

“We’re only stopped here for a quick couple errands,” you explained to both twins, reluctantly pulling away from Atsumu who offered a pout but didn’t protest, “I noticed you don’t have as much as I thought you would, and I want to get you more comfortable collars to wear when we’re in public.”

Both twins hands immediately flew to the simple brown leather bands around their necks. All hybrids were required to wear collars in public to identify them as belonging to someone. The collars had a tag on them, which was essentially a small chip that had all their owner’s information in it, that when scanned would tell someone how to get in contact with their owner. It was to ensure they behaved and that if they didn’t their owner could be forced to take responsibility for their actions. Any hybrid who walked around without a collar immediately had the police called and was brought in and held until they could figure out why they were without.

You’d heard horror stories about the way such hybrids were treated, innocent hybrids who’d accidentally lost a collar somewhere and been so traumatized when they were finally returned to their owners that they were never the same again. Which of course was why you were determined it was never going to happen to your twins, even if a part of you balked at the idea of putting a symbol of ownership on another sentient being. Judging from the looks on their faces, Atsumu’s much easier to read than Osamu’s they’d heard stories too, and neither of them bothered to protest.

“Come on,” you urged gently, climbing out of the car yourself, “The sooner we get the unpleasant stuff done the sooner we get to the good stuff. I’ve got a couple things in mind I’d like to get you both as welcome home presents, but if there’s anything else you think you want or need feel free to ask.”

“Presents?” Atsumu asked eagerly, practically bounding out of the car.

“That’s right,” you agreed with a small laugh, watching him sulk a bit as he realized his brother had beaten him in securing your free hand, Osamu’s fingers laced with your own and a smug smirk on the silver hybrid’s face, “So keep close and let’s get going okay?”

Luckily the mall wasn’t too crowded, and while the twins got more then their fair share of admiring looks, doubtless both because of how good looking they were and how rare twin hybrids in general were, no one actually dared to approach your group, even as Atsumu practically bounced around glancing around the mall in fascination and reminding you more of an eager puppy than a supposedly slightly older cat hybrid.

Osamu was much more dignified and kept close to your side, though judging from his wide-eyed look that he couldn’t quite hide behind his stoic façade he was just as in awe as his brother. You were starting to get an impression of their previous owner and it was far from good.

You’d known that some owners kept their hybrids close to home, either because they were overly protective or possessive, and it had always rubbed you the wrong way. Ojirou had always allowed Kita and Suna to do as they pleased for the most part, treating them as capable adults and equals, more like roommates than the pets some treated their hybrids as and his was the example you were going to strive to follow.

It was why your errands today were so important, because while you would happily have let your twin hybrids run around as they pleased dressed however they pleased a collar was unfortunately the one thing they couldn’t be without, especially if they were going to go outside without you.

Luckily the mall was outfitted with several hybrid specialty stores and it didn’t take you long to find one dedicated entirely to collars. Both twins were a little wide eyed at the selection, and neither seemed to know quite what to say as you roamed through the aisles together looking at the selection.

Several of them made you grimace in outright distaste, the collars boasting accessories like inward facing spikes or tracking devices that would alert the owner if the hybrid tried to leave their home. It made you feel a little sick to your stomach, so you instead turned to the less intrusive ones.

“Do you see anything you like?” you asked the twins, squeezing Osamu’s hand affectionately, “You don’t have to wear collars in the house if you don’t want to, but you’re going to need them if you want to leave when I’m not home, which means you’ll probably be wearing them a lot, so make sure to pick something you like. You can even pick a couple if you want it to match your outfit for the day or whatever I don’t mind spending a little more to get a handful of chips programmed.”

Both twins blinked at you owlishly clearly startled by the offer, which made your heart hurt for them, even as they hesitantly turned back toward the displays, looking more closely than they had before.

“Do ya have any restrictions?” Osamu asked bluntly, not quite looking at you as he eyed a display of thick leather ones that didn’t look comfortable in the slightest.

“No,” you assured him, “I’m not the one who has to wear it.”

Osamu nodded slowly, and seemed to be taking his time as he perused the collars. You let him do as he liked, allowing him to lead. You’d only loosened your hold on him once, thinking he may like to wander the store like his brother and not have to tow you along with him, but the way his hand had reflexively tightened on yours in response had put paid to that assumption and you’d immediately re-laced your fingers together.

In the end Atsumu approached you first, holding a collar out to you hopefully. It actually looked like it was meant more for a dog hybrid, thick black leather with steel spikes on it, making it look fairly fierce. Personally you thought it was gaudy and was probably going to be uncomfortable, but you tried not to let your distaste show, after all you’d said anything they wanted and you’d meant it. Luckily in the end you didn’t need to say anything.

“What the hell is that?” Osamu demanded when he caught sight of the collar in his brother’s hands, the disgusted look on his face letting you know his feelings quite clearly.

“It’s a collar scrub, what else would it be?” Atsumu replied with a sneer for his twin you were beginning to think was automatic.

“I’m not the scrub you are,” the silver twin sneered, “Because only a scrub would wear somethin’ like that.”

“Oy,” Atsumu interjected, with a fierce glare, “She said we could have what we wanted.”

“Yeah but she probably thought ya had some sort of taste, she doesn’t know you well enough to know how scrubby ya are scrub,” Osamu hissed back.

“Alright guys,” you interjected gently, squeezing Osamu’s hand and reaching out to gently ruffle Atsumu’s ears, aware of the eyes of the cashier which had definitely turned in your direction given the twins were getting louder and louder by the second, “Let’s try to keep it to polite volume levels in public hmm?”

“Sorry,” both twins grumbled, identical pouts on their faces that made you giggle.

“It’s alright,” you assured them fondly, “Just try to be good okay?”

They nodded though Osamu clearly needed to get the last word in as he turned to you with pleading eyes, “Ya think it’s an abomination too don’t ya?”

“I said you could have whatever you wanted,” you told him diplomatically, “If this is what Atsumu likes, then of course he can have it.”

“Ha, see!” Osamu demanded of his twin, clearly seeing right through your attempt at diplomacy, “She thinks it’s ugly too!”

“Do ya really think it’s ugly?” Atsumu asked you sulkily eyeing the collar in his hands.

You’d known before that you were weak to pleading eyes, but it turned out you were even more weak to the pleading copper eyes of your hybrid, the thought that he might be sad tugging at your heartstrings.

“I just worry you’ll be uncomfortable,” you assured him, letting go of Osamu’s hand and gently cupping his face in your hands, rubbing your thumbs along his cheeks affectionately, the same way you did for one of the hybrids that occasionally came to your office to sulk when his owner brought him to work but didn’t pay attention to him.

Atsumu immediately leaned into your palms, heavy lidded eyes half-shut with bliss as you explained, “It’s summer right now, and there’s no padding so it will be hot, heavy and probably chafe. Plus didn’t you say you wanted to play volleyball? Won’t it get in the way? I can definitely get it for you if you like it, but maybe pick something else too, okay?”

“Kay,” your golden twin agreed, sounding completely and utterly content as he nuzzled into your hands, making your heart melt in your chest.

“What about this one?” Osamu offered, pulling your attention away from his brother.

He was holding a collar in his hands, one that actually looked more like a necklace a thin but sturdy looking cord of leather fastened with a silver chain in the front that clasped on both ends to a silver hoop that suspended a solid silver disc in the middle that on close inspection revealed that it housed the chip needed for identification.

“That looks really nice,” you praised, letting out a breath of relief at his choice. You weren’t a big fan of the collars in general, but seeing it look more like a necklace made it seem far more tolerable. Plus it was black and silver and thus would probably go with just about anything he chose to wear.

Letting go of Atsumu to take the collar from his twin, you completely missed the smug smirk directed over your shoulder by Osamu as you inspected it, though Atsumu certainly didn’t, giving his twin an annoyed glare above your head.

In the end, while Atsumu sulked and complained about it, he did actually put the original collar he’d offered back and go with Osamu’s choice, even though you offered to get him both. He refused, sulking slightly all the while, but remained insistent that he only needed the one, even though you ended up buying four collars total, so you could have two back-ups. Though he did insist on holding your hand to make up for the disappointment.

Luckily the manager didn’t seem to mind having to program all four collars, tapping away at the computer, while Atsumu sulked a bit by your side and Osamu somehow managed to all but radiate smug superiority. The cashier carefully ringing up your purchases for you as you pulled your wallet out.

“A word of advice?” the cashier offered as you waited for the programmed collars, surprising you with his forwardness.

“You’re too indulgent with them,” he continued on, not giving you the chance to refute the need for him to speak, “Hybrid’s need a firm hand. You’ll spoil them if you let them get away with raising their voices in public and causing a scene. Don’t ever let them forget their place.”

You felt more than saw both twins bristle on either side of you, and gently squeezed Atsumu’s hand, before laying your hand over the back of Osamu’s neck. You wouldn’t care a bit if they wanted to verbally eviscerate the man who was eying them with clear distaste, a distaste you were almost sure stemmed from jealousy given the lascivious looks he probably thought you hadn’t noticed levelled in your direction. Unfortunately, you also didn’t want them to get into trouble, and weren’t quite sure what the law said about how hybrids were allowed to defend themselves from humans, something you planned to rectify as soon as possible.

For now however you weren’t about to let the twins get in trouble and cut in your tone as cold as you could make it, “I don’t remember asking for your opinion, nor do I care about what you think in the least. I’ll treat them how I want to treat them, which means I’ll spoil and pamper them as much as I like. I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself in the future if you want to keep this business running. As it is I’ll be sending my complaint to your superiors. Let’s go guys, we can find other collars elsewhere. It’s not like they’re hard to find.”

“Wait! The chips are already programmed and you haven’t paid,” the manager protested, standing up from the computer looking utterly appalled.

“Should’ve thought of that before your employee opened his mouth, and decided to spew his unwanted bile everywhere,” you countered with a shrug, “I’d consider finding better employees in the future if I were you, or at least teach them to keep their mouths shut.”

“But the chips can’t be removed from these collars, they’ll be completely ruined,” the manager put in, sounding more than a bit despairing.

“I’m sorry,” you told her, feeling genuinely bad for the woman, after all it wasn’t her fault the other employee was an ass, “But that’s not my problem. I refuse to support any sort of business that would treat its customers like this.”

The glare she leveled on her fellow employee was utterly ferocious and had him cowering back in his seat. Not that you could blame her for being upset, each collar was about three hundred USD so the sale they were losing out on was enormous.

“I can offer you a discount?” she tried hopefully, “Fifty percent off?”

You tilted your head thoughtfully, but didn’t reply instead turning to look at the twins who’d clearly been more than ready to follow you out of the store, “What do you think?”

“Us?” Atsumu asked, clearly baffled.

“Yes, you,” you told him with a fond smile, “You’re the ones who got insulted, not me, and they’re your collars. I’m happy to buy you whatever you like from wherever you want it, whether that’s here or somewhere else.”

“Seventy-five percent off,” Osamu bargained from her other side, taking you by surprise. You turned to see him watching the manager with shrewd eyes, and when it looked like she would protest he added in, “Seventy-five percent off and we won’t leave bad reviews on every site we can or send letters of complaint to upper management.”

“Agreed,” the manager huffed, shooting another vicious look at her employee, one that clearly read that it would be coming out of his salary.

You huffed, amused at Osamu’s bargaining, gently massaging your thumb against the base of his neck affectionately before releasing both twins and moving to pay, only spending a quarter of what you’d originally planned.

“Nice work,” you praised the silver hybrid once the three of you were out of the store and out of earshot.

Osamu shot you a sly smirk, looking exceedingly pleased with himself as he walked beside you. Atsumu had claimed your hand this time, so he was carrying the bags, though it didn’t seem to bother him in the least.

“Now that, that’s taken care of, let’s go grab your gifts,” you told the twins, tugging them along to the PineApple store.

“Presents?” Atsumu asked eagerly, practically bounding along beside you, your intertwined hands swinging back and forth between you.

Laughing you simply pulled him with you into the store. Both twins were wide-eyed as you browsed through, clearly unused to the cutting edge technology on display, both of them exceedingly cautious with the expensive looking tech. It took some gentle urging, but eventually you managed to get phones and laptops picked out for each of them.

“Isn’t this too much,” Osamu asked you in an undertone, clearly worried as an employee walked Atsumu through getting his laptop set up. It turned out that of the twins Osamu was definitely more technically savvy and loved his new laptop, though Atsumu had already managed to download several apps and games on to his phone and was thoroughly enjoying them as well, “It’s expensive.”

“I have the money,” you assured him gently, “And besides, everyone has a phone these days. I want you guys to have them in case you get in trouble when I’m not home and need to reach me, like if you got lost or hurt or simply need a human to ensure you’re treated fairly. I’d feel awful if you needed me and I didn’t know.”

“The laptops are so you don’t get too bored at home, though I hope you’ll find things to enjoy outside the apartment too,” you continued, absently stroking your hand up and down his back.

“Will you be wanting hybrid trackers in the new phones?” the employee asked, her voice professional as she began to ring up your purchases.

You hesitated. On one hand you hated the idea of invading the twins privacy, and on the other you knew that you fully intended to let them roam as they pleased so wouldn’t it be better to have the tracker just in case? A quick glance showed that Osamu was impassive as ever, and even Atsumu just looked bored, not paying any attention whatsoever, instead tapping away at his new phone.

“What do you think?” you asked them, more than willing to hear their opinions on the matter.

“You’re the owner,” Osamu told her, apparently speaking for both of them as he gave an unconcerned shrug, which wasn’t helpful in the least.

You grimaced a bit trying to think of a compromise before finally pulling out your own phone and asking the employee, “Is there anyway to ensure all three of the phones will track each other?”

“Let me go ask,” she told you politely, turning away to go grab someone more knowledgeable.

“That’s fair right?” you asked hesitantly, “This way you know where I am too and can come find me if you need me.”

“Yeah,” Osamu agreed, giving you a look that you thought might be something as close to awe as you’d seen on the silver haired hybrid, “Yeah that’s fair.”

The employee quickly returned and confirmed they could indeed make all three phones track one another, and in the span of a few minutes managed to get your purchases complete. Feeling like that was probably enough for now, you led them back towards the car.

It was starting to get pretty late, and the minute you’d exited the mall Osamu’s stomach had given a loud rumbling growl. Atsumu had made fun of him for all of a minute, before his own stomach betrayed him. You’d shaken your head at their antics, but allowed a surprisingly eager Osamu to order whatever he wanted for carryout from the Chinese place near your apartment.

One quick stop for the food, and you finally managed to bring your new hybrids home. Both of them were a little quiet as you led them up to your apartment, staring around and clearly taking everything in. Either Ojirou, Kita and Suna weren’t home, or they’d decided to give you time to settle with the twins as they didn’t emerge from their apartment as you arrived in the hallway and fumbled the door open.

“Here we are,” you told them, hitting the lights, “Home sweet home.”

Both twins were laden with things, carrying their purchases, the food, and their things from the adoption center. Still looking at them was enough to make your heart clench. It had only taken one trip to bring everything up, but despite hybrids being stronger than normal humans it still made your heart clench to see how very little the twins actually had. Each of them only had a medium sized suitcase of things, and Atsumu had a worn volleyball but that was it aside from the things you’d bought them. It was something you were determined to fix for the future, but for now you’d make do.

“I know you’re hungry, so unless you want to settle in for a bit first we can eat and then I’ll show you around,” you offered.

The twins exchanged looks, but nodded in clear agreement. You pointed out the bathroom just in case, but then brought them to the kitchen, trying to show them where everything was as you pulled utensils from the drawers. Osamu clearly paid much more attention to her explanations than Atsumu did, though both diligently helped her set the table.

The food was really good, and thankfully sparked more conversation, even if it was more subdued than earlier, all of them worn out from the long day they’d had. Osamu was clearly very interested in food, and not just in eating it the way his brother was. You managed to coax out that he’d cooked for their previous owner from time to time, and told him that as long as he was careful he was more than free to use her kitchen and anything in it for whatever he wanted earning what felt like her first real smile from the silver haired twin.

Despite how tired they clearly were, both twins helped you clean up. For the first time since you’d first discovered the lovely little Chinese restaurant there weren’t actually any leftovers, the twins having consumed everything you said you didn’t want. As they worked you noted it really was kind of nice, even if things were quiet, to have the company as they went about their tasks.

“Alright, so I wasn’t sure if you’d want your own rooms or if you’d want to share,” you told them, gesturing for them to follow, “We’re going to have to do some shopping either way, since they’re your rooms and I want you to be able to personalize them any way you want, but I think they’re pretty equal in size.”

The twins stared at you, clearly surprised, glancing at each other, to the rooms you’d offered, to you, and back again, the gesture making her more than a bit nervous. You’d thought there was plenty of space for the two of them, but maybe they didn’t see it that way?

“We get our own rooms?” Atsumu asked at last, finally breaking the silence, his voice quiet and disbelieving, copper eyes huge in his face.

“If you want them, then of course they’re yours,” you assured him, concerned, “I still have to clean out my study, but I didn’t want to delay adopting you and I don’t think it will take too long. There’s a pull out futon in there, though you’re more than free to share if you want a bed, or I can take the futon and one of you can have my bed for now. I’ve certainly slept on the futon before and I don’t mind.”

“You’d give up your bed?” Osamu repeated, looking like you’d just smacked him over the head with a fish, more surprise on his face then you’d thought him capable of showing.

“Just until we find something for you,” you told him, a little puzzled at his surprise but with the sinking feeling that your suspicions about their former owner were correct.

“But, why?” Atsumu asked you, wide eyed and a little teary.

“Because, you’re mine now,” you assured him, unable to quite find the words you wanted to say, but hoping you were conveying your feelings at the very least, “And I’m going to do everything I can to keep you safe and happy.”

The sad mewling sound he made in response to your words was enough to break your heart, as he pitched forward squeezing you into his chest and burying his face in your shoulder. You pressed your cheek to his hair, rubbing his back soothingly with one arm even as you automatically opened the other one for his twin, a gesture that was slowly becoming more and more familiar to you.

Osamu didn’t sob the way his twin did, but the way he squeezed you tight let you know he was just as moved as Atsumu even if he was quieter about it. Seeing their genuine gratitude for what you felt was common courtesy broke your heart, but even as it ached and you did your best to soothe them you swore to yourself, to love and care for your new hybrids so they’d never want for anything ever again to be the best owner it was possible to be after all they deserved nothing less.

Like this? Please feel free to drop in to my ask box and make requests! Just make sure to read the rules first!

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zuluc · 4 years

Text

anonymous requested: i've been thinking about what to request for the past 3 days and i think i've finally got it. can i ask for kaeya or diluc with a crush that's a depressed bard that always composes sad songs and lyrics? here's the twist, though. their songs and lyrics start to cheer up as the two of them become closer friends!

pairing: diluc x gn! reader

style & genre: written; fluff

warnings: none

notes: i decided to do diluc for this one because I think it’d have a great impact on him as a person as well, and i’m here for more fluff with him 🥰 i made the lyrics myself for the sake of this fic please go easy on me all i know about music is playing the violin/viola also this is long

i changed the prompt a bit if that’s alright!

“Who are you exactly?” Diluc eyes you strangely when you look at him with a blank stare. In one hand you have a notebook and in the other is a lyre. You walked in only moments ago, actively avoiding anyone’s eyes as they knew you weren’t from town. You just wanted to go straight to the owner of the tavern and hope to share what you had in that book of yours.

“A bard,” you say. You look around to see a few of the townspeople staring back while the others cheer happily with each other as if an exciting thing had happened. “Do you have room for a performance?”

Diluc raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. You didn’t appear to have any double meaning or ill intention in your words, rather, your eyes were just void of any glint of mischief he usually saw in a certain person. But to waltz in one day and ask for something like this so casually, you really weren’t from there.

“Sure, just don’t steal anything.” He is skeptical of you as he is of any one else but you didn’t need to know that. You were used to it after all. He directs you to the side of the bar that was supposedly the “performance stage” but it didn’t matter. Anywhere was fine with you.

The townspeople gradually stop their chatter as you quickly tune your lyre, playing a chord once the strings were ready. The tune that escapes into the air effectively silences any remaining voices. The song you were going to start wasn’t one they would usually hear in this city of freedom and apparently cheerfulness.

Your fingers hook at the strings, releasing them with ease as a soulful melody fills the entire tavern. The chord was of the lower register and hummed deeply. Diluc flicks his eyes over to you as he cleans a glass and sees your own eyes are closed.

When the night has passed

For then will I be free

Will they see me trample dust

Or let me keep my feet

Your book is open and he can see the words you were singing on the pages. It looks like you just started this line of work given how many pages were left in that book, assuming it was your only one as all you came in with were those two items and a small bag of mora.

He doesn’t notice how much of an effect your song had until he scans over the tavern patreons. Your voice carries through, swaying through the people to where it grazes a piece of their hearts to reminisce forlorn memories. But your words felt soulful as if they had come from your own experiences. A thought passes over his head which causes his heart to pang before quickly shaking it off when he realizes the feeling.

Ah, so you were this type of bard.

Diluc just thinks he’ll only see you one time so he lets the thought pass through.

Once your song ends the drunk townspeople cheer loudly among themselves. You are taken aback by all the noise but bow politely to them for their reaction. You take your things as they call out for you to do another song and you shake your head.

“Maybe another time,” you say with slight sorrow to your face or words. They accept the answer and continue on their night and when you turn to leave, Diluc can’t stop the words that come out of his mouth.

“Why not stay for a drink?” You look at him incredulously and he crosses his arms, “Call it payment for your services. They seemed to enjoy it.” You make cautious movement as you make your way to a stool. Diluc sets out an apple cider vinegar drink and you sniff at it. Once you take a sip you notice his face at the corner of your sight. The edge of his lip is slightly quirked up as he sighs while cleaning a glass.

It seems they weren’t the only ones who enjoyed the song.

Mondstadt was a city that was very welcoming in comparison to all the other places you spent time at. The people were either unwilling to hear your music or had particular reactions to the pieces you shared. To them, it seemed you didn’t understand that bar music was supposed to be lively and something to dance to. Not something to feel sad about.

But you wanted to share it anyways for your songs are one of the few things in life that you are proud of. One of the few things that have filled the emptiness of yourself that you lost those years ago and maybe, just maybe, sharing them will help you feel in some way. To you, these songs are sorrowful, but they shouldn’t just make people sad. That’s why you were quite surprised at the reactions at Angel’s Share as opposed to those from other places.

They should elicit emotions of nostalgia. Or maybe, you just hadn’t found the right experience to make them happier.

You come back a few nights later and Diluc is working the bar yet again. When he lifts his head, his shoulders sag in relief seeing that it is you. Venti had come by a few times after hearing about you and kept pressing the owner about letting him on the stage as well.

He was rejected numerous times in tandem with being asked to pay up for his drink tab.

The same book and lyre are still in hand when you head towards Diluc like you did that first night. He places the glass in his hands down and gives you a nod of his head, “Welcome back.”

“Thanks,” You look around and see that the tavern is even fuller than the last night you performed. It seems word had got around of your songs and they had all been waiting patiently for nights now. That was what an attendee had said to you outside the door anyways. “Do you mind?” You gesture to the stage.

“Go for it,” Any sense of caution that seeped through his words when you met him was near to nonexistent now. Maybe it was the impressions you left on the townspeople and their word of mouth the past few days. A depressing bard in the city of freedom in comparison to the other bards was news, especially when this bar had a wonderful voice to listen to.

The bar quiets again with the numerous greetings and cheers in seeing you up there. You flip open your book and thumb through the pages before settling on one song near the middle. It was a two-parter.

Your fingers pick at the strings lightly, slowly adding pressure thus causing the volume to increase subtly. Diluc shifts in his spot as he tries to focus on the tasks at hand but there really isn’t anything he is going to lose if he wants to listen.

I ran far in the depths of that same night

They chased me off as they truly had hoped

But I lost my way and wandered far

Met and saw numerous things was how I coped

The townspeople are yet again taken by your voice and melody that they had started to move with the music. Diluc decides to abandon his tasks for a little while, now aware how your music allows him to reflect as you intended.

He sees these events before him. The death of one close to him and the loss of someone beside him whom he thought he could trust wholeheartedly. You stop singing but continue with plucking at the strings that calms the atmosphere. It is solemn and relaxing, almost putting the drunkest of the bunch to sleep but through sheer willpower they stay awake to listen on.

Happy and cheerful those that I have seen

But they were not accepting of me

Sharing the harsh reality of these mysteries

How will one otherwise feel so free?

The song ends and a round of cheers erupts, louder than the first night as there were more people. Diluc snaps out of his thoughts and wordlessly fixes you another drink that you take again, albiet still a bit shyly.

“Your lyrics,” Diluc begins and you tense at the sound of his voice, “From experience I assume?” He is straightforward, you should know this from the gossip around town. There was nothing in it for you to hide anything from him or anyone else so you tell him.

“Yes. That’s what makes good music, does it not?” You take a sip of the beverage. It must be a different one as it is much sweeter than the apple cider vinegar. “When you can relate to the words yourself. I simply want to share that with the people for reasons even I am unsure of.”

Diluc hums and doesn’t look you in the eye for his next words.

“I see. Your voice is quite nice.”

You both managed to continue with light chatter that night and he learns that you are staying in Mondstadt for quite a bit. You had no set plans to be in a specific place at any specific time so what was the rush to leave? Among this he is aware of how you speak. There is an ambiguous sorrow in your words from the effect of your past, he believes, that share no optimism but realistic choices that would completely stop the conversation.

But he was the same so it continues.

His past is the reason for his own apprehension when speaking with strangers but you were a little different. You outright told him your objective and you were just a bard who wanted to share their experience.

You learn this of him and it was the first time that you felt light when speaking with someone.

“Y/n!” They learn of your name after the third night you show up which is another few nights after the second. Some take your music as a lighthearted joke in contrast to their free lives while others pay close attention to the words and sway with the tune.

You give a small grin in acknowledgement before sitting in the stool in front of Diluc. Throughout the weeks you had gotten to know each other a little better besides the titles of The Sorrowful Bard and Diluc of Mondstadt. You were just y/n and he was Diluc.

You always make a point to talk to him before performing, giving a small insight into the meaning behind your words. Last time replayed the sleepless night and doubts as you wandered Teyvat and the time before that was a retelling of an animal that accompanied you for the last months of its life.

“It knew it had to go yet it decided to follow me, spreading that sadness of loss to me as I was attached.” You said to him that night with dry eyes.

All you tell him is that this song is a little different from your other ones.

He shows more of himself to you, actions he wouldn’t typically show to others if it weren’t for a certain motive or purpose. But you were not threatening nor wanted something from him. Diluc put a bit of trust in you for that.

You never sing more than one song each night because you want them to take in the words of each song carefully. Like that animal, you wanted to share the sadness but allow them to see the great memories.

This night contains your fourteenth or fifteenth song and it is fairly new. You wrote this in the early hours of the morning with a newfound emotion bustling inside your chest. You were scared when waking up, but felt reassured when there was a hint of melancholy there among an unfamiliar emotion.

The tavern goers look at you with hopeful and excited eyes. You feel warmth in your heart as you remember the times a few of them have come up to you telling you that your music has made it easier to sleep. That your music is inspiring; sad, but inspiring.

You play a chord and Diluc raises a brow in hearing a lighter tone. Underlying is that first low tone in your first night, indicating that you plan to keep a sense of your usual.

Then I stumbled in, seeing the light there

Unexpected welcoming I was greeted by

At first there was nothing then passed a while

Uprising something foreign for me to finally cry

Even if your eyes are trained to the floor, they are in his general direction. You didn’t know what you were feeling and you sure didn’t want to push it.

He has his entire attention directed at you.

You pluck higher notes much different from the chords you were accustomed to, messing up in a few that no one seemed to notice. You straighten yourself and look over the entire bar, settling your eyes on him for a bit too long for him to notice.

And so thankful am I

To be able to do such as that

And never is it unwelcomed

The beats in my soul are no longer flat

Your eyes stay staring at him and the cheers drown out. Diluc’s hand raises a few centimeters from the counter but you have already picked up your book and instrument and left.

The drink is untouched as he follows after you, thanks to Charles.

You feel like you can’t breathe but there is physically nothing blocking your airway. You assumed it was due to the collection of body heat in the tavern but even the cool night air did nothing to soothe the burning in your face.

Why did I look at him? Why was he looking back? What does this mean?

“Y/n!” You gasp at the sound of his voice and as you turn around you hope that it was just in your head. Your mouth opens and closes but you can’t speak. you don’t know what to say.

Truthfully, he doesn’t either.

Diluc didn’t know what to expect when you told him it would be different. He definitely didn’t expect for the song to be about him. He had deducted this reasoning and confirmed it when your eyes met and to you leaving.

In that room he felt the same: his face was warm and his heartbeat picked up when you lingered your gaze on him. He didn’t know what this feeling was either.

Neither of you are speaking, the breeze brushing through.

“I’m sorry!” You say, bowing your head so he cannot see the tears of confusion, frustration, and something else running down your face.

“Why are you apologizing?” He is near you now and he can feel you jump at his touch on your shoulder. When you don’t push him off he moves his gloved hand to cup your face to lift it up. This is the first time he’s seen you cry.

Ironic, given your songs.

Diluc lightly presses his thumb to your cheek to brush off a tear. “Apologizing is for if you’ve done something wrong. You have done nothing of the sort.”

“Are you sure?” You say without hesitation. It is an automatic response, built upon the hardening of your heart and soul through your travels. Diluc chuckles, a small smile on his face.

“I am sure.”

You strum lightly, a newfound lightness to you that almost everyone has noticed. Your songs still have that sorrowful reality to them but at the end they have changed. Seeing more of the graceful and fulfilling beauty of life.

Diluc still fixes you drinks after every performance and indulges you in conversation. This time around, however, he leans in closer and places his hand closer to yours.

And you are thankful to feel that emotion.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcannons #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact angst #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact diluc x reader #genshin impact diluc #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #diluc

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the-lady-writes-what · 4 years

Text

21. Hizashi Yamada and Shouta Aizawa

Theme: Fox spirits/gods

Kinks: Threesome, double penetration, biting, marking, praise kink, oral (receiving), breeding kink (if you squint), polyamory/polyandry

Sorry this is a little late. My brain was like, I know I said I was going to make these short one-shots but how about we make them bigger?

(The gif has nothing to do with the story, obvi)

Masterlist

You climbed up the many steps leading to the shrine. This was your last resort. The humiliation induced by your vicious ex-boyfriend still left gashes in your heart. Your curse was that you fall in love too quickly and are blind to all faults until it's too late. Your most recent misadventure in love had been so cunning, so cruel that you wasted three years of your life with a man who was, in the words of your best friends, a massive cunt. Manipulative, emotionally abusive, but the cherry on top was the rumor he spread about you having an S.T.D. you'd gotten while cheating on him. Mind you, he was the one with the sexually transmitted disease. You were spared because you hadn't slept with him in recent months. The sting was a deadly blow to your self-confidence and trust in men.

After months of battling depression and anxiety, your aunt suggested a remote village trip and visit this exact shrine. Upon arrival, you were acutely aware of all the women either paired off or visibly pregnant. You noticed this at arrival. It was small at first—a lot of couples paired off, two by two like swans. Then, when you approached the marketplace and asked for directions, you noticed how the shopkeeper was pregnant, along with her sister and sister-in-law. There weren't many single men or single women as far as you could tell. Even a male couple looked happy.

You wanted to burn this town to ashes.

It was insulting, really. You came all this way just to have happiness and love shoved in your face while you, the miserable wretch, were forced to pine. You tried not to scowl as happy couples passed you by. Keeping your eyes focused ahead of you was all you could do to avoid knocking the smiles off their faces. Now, here you were, mounting the steps to a shrine shrouded by pines and red maples. Leaves rustled on the steps, which drew your attention. Fallen leaves littered the stairs and the shrine's sacred grounds, but that seemed awfully unauspicious. Was there no groundskeeper, no shrine maiden, no priest to clear them away? As you reached half-way up the hill, you noticed the smell in the air. Not a bad smell, but it was pervasive all around. The scent invaded your senses. It smelled a lot like jasmine and patchouli. You didn't think much of it and thought it was just someone burning incense at the shrine.

Two masculine figures lounged in the garden. One looked indifferent while the other moped. The latter was blonde; it matched the protruding fox ears on his head and the fluffy, swishing tail patting his thigh. He rested his head on the lap of the former, who appeared much like him except his hair, ears, and tail were black as ink. This one wore an indifferent expression. He looked out into the garden as he made a mental list of all the things he had to do around the shrine. Weeds had encroached where they weren't wanted during the summer and now choked the garden. Fall arrived early this year and made the trees shed their leaves too soon. The steps, as well as the grounds and roof, were covered in maple leaves. The inside needed moping, shining, dusting, and replacing oil lamps. There was still the matter of the hole in the sanctuary's ceiling that needed mending. But was there any human around to do it? No. The last priest died over fifty years ago. Shouta, the black fox, and Hizashi, the blonde fox, had been left alone to answer the whims of pilgrims.

It was almost thankless work. Ensuring happy marriages, love matches, and fertility was hard work when one was forced to clean their own shrine. As long as they were tied to this spot, Hizashi and Shouta had no other choice. The only thing more embarrassing than a shrine-god having to clean up his own shrine was a homeless one.

"I'm starting to miss the old man," said Hizashi. "He was so much fun to drink with. At least he had a sense of humor. Unlike the other fuddy-duddies, they tried to send us."

A few months after the last priest's death, his congregation tried to settle another to take his place. The successor was stern and took his job too seriously for Hizashi's liking. 'He's too dull,' Hizashi used to complain. Shouta wasn't much of a fan either, but it was more due to Hizashi's constant sighs and complaints that drove him to chase the priest away. Shouta ensured that no other settled down for too long. As far as the pair was concerned, the priest who died fifty years ago was their last worthy priest.

"It's so boring and lonely up here. There's no one to play with," Hizashi complained.

Shouta rolled his eyes. Hizashi was in one of his moods again. Boredom took a toll more on him than his 'co-worker' and sometimes lover. It was easy to get bored of making love for fifty-odd years while still working a thankless job. Only occasionally did some old lady or grateful newlywed came to offer incense and drop a donation. Whenever there was money, even a scrap, either Shouta or Hizashi would venture down the hill to mingle with the humans for a little bit. Men or women often flirted with them, but they couldn't decide on a partner they could both enjoy. Instead, everyone was declined.

"Maybe we could call up Nemuri and see what she's up to?" Hizashi suggested.

Shouta gave a flat answer. "No."

Hizashi pouted and went back to his pouting.

"You're no fun," said Hizashi.

"I know." Shouta petted Hizashi's ears to placate him.

Suddenly, a shudder rippled through both of them. They looked at one another. A smile quickly spread across Hizashi's face.

"We have a visitor!" He jumped up at once and dusted himself off.

"We have visitors all the time," said Shouta, but this was a lie. Visitors became fewer after the summer once pilgrims got their desire.

"But did you feel that, Shouta? A poor, miserable, broken-hearted young woman just crossed the path of our statues, and she's heading this way. Don't you feel it? Oh, the poor dear?"

The shrine-gods knew the hearts of all those who entered. It was their specialty to work in all the matters of the heart and the bedroom. Sniffing out broken hearts was a talent they both shared, but Hizashi was the more sensitive one. A fractured heart held an aura that most humans couldn't detect by sensing it alone. Sometimes it was a trifling matter. This time, however, Hizashi felt far more significant pain. Betrayal called out to him like a widow. He hadn't even seen the woman's face but could smell her despair, hate, and ache from miles away. She needed help.

Shouta felt it too. He pitied the human and wondered what brought her to that state. His curiosity was peaked, which didn't happen very often, if at all. Her presence was a sad one, and it threatened to taint the whole shrine with her negativity. Negativity drew hungry ghosts and pesky imps like moths to a flame. All of that meant more work for him. Aside from wanting to protect what little dignity his shrine had left, it was his duty to help this miserable wretch.

"Can we introduce ourselves, Shouta?" Hizashi's bright green eyes twinkled with mischief, hope, and something else Shouta could not easily define.

Shouta weighed the pros and cons in his head. By the time he came to a decision, he could hear the woman walking into the courtyard. Her voice was carried on the autumn wind. She was curious too, likely wondering why a shrine was seemingly left abandoned and in disarray. It would be rude to let her go forlorn after a trek up the hill.

You passed under the second torii gates and a second pair of fox statues. There were no lion-dogs as you saw in most other shrines, but this one had a strong love for foxes apparently. You looked at the water in the pavilion used for ceremonial purification. You cringed at the slightly brackish water and used very little to purify your hands. As soon as you got to the nearest restroom, you were going to scrub your hands raw. Walking down the narrow path leading to the inner sanctuary, you kept noticing very odd things. The shrine was in massive disrepair with cracks, debris, and brackish water. It wasn't a complete eyesore, but something did not feel right. There was not a soul you could find; loneliness pervaded every inch of the place. You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself as you walked on. You found the spot where wishers and pilgrims wrote their prayers on wooden plaques to hang them up. While there were plenty of rustling in the wind, they weren't very many. You scrawled your desire for a loving partner, happiness, and to forget the man who wounded you so deeply.

You hung the plaque alongside the three dozen blowing in the wind. You went further ahead to pay your respect at the small public shrines built on the side of the shrine's complex. There were only two buildings. One foot across, seven feet long, and six feet tall, they were impressively big for small shrines. These were the only buildings uncovered by leaves and pines branches. You marveled briefly at their pristine appearance. In your bag, you brought along the incense your aunt prescribed. You retrieved two sticks of carnation incense and dipped the stick end in the bowl of sand. You lit the incense, clapped your hands twice, and said a prayer. You did this twice at both shrines.

You turned your back to face going all the way down the hill again when you spotted something at the corner of your eye. At first, it seemed like your mind was playing tricks on you. Out of the corner, you thought you saw a ball of glowing blue light flicker in the window of the main shrine. The main shrine was off to limits to everyone but the priests and shrine maidens. This was where the kami, the god, was housed and worshipped by the clergy. You turned to see if what you saw had really been there. Another flash of blue flickered in the window and then another. You swallowed hard, but curiosity pinched at you. You wanted to know. With a quick glance around, you wandered over to the main shrine.

You cut over the grass and walked into the oratory. There were no voices or footsteps other than your own. You called out to anyone who would be listening, yet no one answer was given. Your voice carried down the halls. However, just because no one answered, it didn't exclude the idea altogether that no one listened. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end as you drew closer to what you assumed was the forbidden connecting hall that led into the inner sanctuary, which was supposed to be off-limits to the public. As far as you could tell, no one was around to stop you or tell you no.

You took a deep breath and crossed the threshold. Your heart pounded inside your chest. The halls were so dark you had to grope around just to find a wall. You tried to turn around and head out only to get yourself more lost. It was as if you were stuck in a maze. Every direction looked the same, and turning around seemed to make matters worse.

In desperation, you called out, "Hello?"

Still no answer. You trekked further in the hopes of running into someone, anyone, and get them to show you the way out. You hoped that they had a flashlight on hand. You would barely make out your hand in front of your face if you held it up.

Another flash of blue had you whirling on your face. You whipped your head in that direction. Shivers ran down your spine as you felt a pair of eyes bore a hole into the back of your head. It didn't feel like something glaring at you, but the sensation frightened you nevertheless. You took off in the direction of the blue flash. Yet another appeared up ahead, further along than the previous. You started running after it. More appeared, and each grew more distinct in shape and color than the last. You managed to get close enough to hear the hiss and flicker of its fire. You stared at a ball of blue flames with its tongue licking the air. It disappeared into nothingness and reappear off in a different direction.

You found it hovering in front of a set of shoji doors. It disappeared once more. Lights flickered behind the rice paper. You pried your fingers against the seams and pushed the door open. Lamps lined the walls. They burned with pale blue and white flames behind their screens. You approached with caution and gripped your bag straps tight.

Wooden floors creaked beneath your feet. You mentally cursed yourself for dragging your shoes inside the holy place, but the longer you glanced around the room, the more it seemed that this was not an ordinary shrine. The room had a lower portion accessible by three steps, and a red mat covered much of the space. A shrine rested on the floor on the other side. In each of the four corners was a vase that held carnation flowers. Somehow, all the flowers were in perfect condition and thrived in the forgotten space. You stepped carefully towards the shrine when you felt something behind you.

You looked over your shoulder. Not something, but someone and just a someone but someones. It wasn't the fact that you finally met another person at the shrine or that they were men that gave you alarm. It was the ears sticking out on top of their heads, the tails swishing back and forth behind them, and the regal manner in which they bore themselves. The one in a black yukata folded his arms across his chest and looked quite serious, probably because you were trespassing. The other man wore a red yukata, but he appeared far more friendly than his companion. He smiled broadly at you as if you hadn't just broken one of the most sacred, unspoken rules about behavior at a shrine. You swallowed hard and bowed from the waist.

"I am so sorry for intruding, sirs. I-I didn't mean to intrude…I got lost and couldn't find my way out. I'll leave immediately if you just show me the way. I promise I'll never come back and disturb another shrine so long as I live!"

"Easy there, little sparrow. No need to get riled up," said the friendlier one.

Slowly, you raised yourself up. You looked at them again, still bewildered by their ears and tail. They were either the strangest priests you were likely to ever come across, or they were—

"What business do you have here?" Asked the more somber fellow.

"I-I" You choked on your words. "I had a boyfriend who did rotten things to me. I was hoping to, to, um, to…" Your voice trailed off.

You were too distracted by the fox ears on their heads. They looked too real to be fake, but how was that possible?

The blonde one snapped his fingers.

"My eyes are down here, love," he chuckled.

Your cheeks darkened with embarrassment. "Please, if you could just tell me how to get out of here, I'll leave you alone."

Your first instinct would be to bolt for the door. When you glanced behind them, the doors had been shut when you remember having left them open. Were these demons standing in front of you? Is that why the shrine seemed so empty?

"Leaving so soon? But you haven't even heard our proposal yet?" Said the blonde.

Your brows furrowed. "P-Proposal?"

The black-haired fox-eared man slipped something out of his yukata sleeve. It was your wood plaque you left hanging outside. His ebony eyes gleaned over your wish and read it aloud.

"I don't know who will answer this, but I want to find true love, a life partner who will never stick a knife in me and twist. A man, or frankly anyone who will love and care for me. Please bring me happiness and make me forget about the man who abused me for three years. Is this your wish, Y/N?"

Your face drained of color. "How do you know my name?"

"We have our methods. I'm Hizashi. The dour one is Shouta. It's lovely to meet you."

"W-what are you?" You ventured to ask.

"We're the shrine gods. It's been lonely up here for a while now. The priests haven't been to our liking for the last fifty years, so we're forced to take care of the place ourselves, which is rather insulting if you think about it," said Hizashi.

"And…what are you the gods of?"

"Love, fertility, happy marriages, love-matches, all that fun stuff," answered Hizashi.

"Are you the reason why every other woman I met in town is pregnant?"

Hizashi answered, "Of course. We've been blessing this region with successful pregnancies for centuries. There hasn't been but a handful of miscarriages in all these years thanks to us."

"We're not the cause of the pregnancies if that's what that face is for, Y/N. We just ensure that the infant comes to term and reduce sterility in men and women," said Shouta, who had apparently been studying your face very closely.

Your blush darkened.

"Otherwise, this town would be full of half-fox spirits roaming around, wouldn't it?" Hizashi laughed.

"Okay…" You thought for a moment about what you were going to say next. This was all too surreal, but this was better than feeling miserable. "But what do you want from me?"

Hizashi and Shouta exchanged looks. A soft smile crept upon Shouta's face.

"We'll grant you your wish. On a few conditions," Shouta began. "As you can tell, our shrine is in dire need of—what do you humans call it nowadays? T.L.C.?"

"Tender love and care?" You said.

"Yes. That. Our shrine has been in disrepair for some time, but as much as the villagers enjoy making offerings, they aren't too keen on cleaning it. As you can imagine, it's rather embarrassing cleaning up your own shrine," Shouta continued.

"So, what you're saying is that you'll get me a decent boyfriend if I clean your house?"

"We can do better than, little sparrow," said Hizashi.

You felt his eyes wander your body. You couldn't help but shiver. Out of fear or anticipation, you couldn't tell at this point. You might have been hallucinating for all you knew.

"How would you like to be the wife of a god?" Hizashi laughed again. "Or two?"

"W-Wife? I just wanted a boyfriend who loved me. I don't remember asking for polyandry. Besides, why would you tie yourselves to someone human and mortal."

"We can cross that bridge when we come to it," said Hizashi.

"What do you say? Help us repair the shrine, and you'll have something better than a boyfriend. It sounds like a good deal, doesn't it?" Asked Shouta.

"Yeah," you said incredulously. "A little too good to be true. What's the catch?"

"You would have to live here and 'maintain' the shrine's cleanliness and reputation. We could get someone to teach you to perform the kagura dance. Learn a few things that would make you useful around the shrine and to the villagers. A shrine maiden, for all intents and purposes."

That did even things out. You weren't tied to your apartment, especially since it still had the ghosts of your past boyfriends lingering in there. You didn't go to college, and you hated your job. Becoming basically a shrine maiden and marry a pair of fox-gods seemed like a step-up from your hum-drum life.

"Hypothetically, if I agreed to all that, how would we go about making it official? Are we to have a big wedding? Does Ōkuninushi* have to be involved? Is there supposed to be a ceremony we have to follow?" The questions tumbled out of your mouth one by one in your unusual state of mind.

"So many questions. To answer all of them in one go, here it is. All you have to do is enjoy yourself," said Hizashi.

Before you could ask what he meant, Hizashi closed the gap between you. His mouth was suddenly on yours, and his hands settled on your backpack's straps. Your load was unburdened by your shoulders. Hizashi's hands ran through your hair, holding your head hostage. You heard Shouta's footsteps come along beside you. He worked your shoes off your feet and your socks as well. When he arose, Shouta's hands found your waist. He snatched your head away from Hizashi to kiss you himself. From there on out, it was a frenzy of hands, mouths, and tongues teasing you.

The first thing to go was clothes. Hizashi and Shouta worked together to get rid of the annoying layers that kept them from feeling up more of your skin. Your autumn outfit suited the chilly weather outside but was ill-fitted for their current needs. Their hands peeled off each layer of clothing until you wore nothing but your bra and panties. Somewhere between removing each item of clothing, one of them summoned an extra-large tatami mat out of thin air. You landed softly on the sleeping mat, cradled between them. Their kimonos were disposed of in the same manner as your modern clothes, with one exception. They were both utterly naked underneath their yukatas. Your blush spread down to the top of your chest at the mere sight of their hardening members.

"You look so pretty blushing like that, Y/N," said Hizashi.

He took his place between your legs. Hizashi playfully snapped the hem of your panties. He seemed to enjoy your small yelp as the elastic snapped against your skin. Shouta sat on his knees and pulled your back flush against his chest. He unclipped your bra and tossed it aside. Hizashi pulled at your underwear until the fabric tore. You opened your mouth in protest, but all the words stopped in your throat to make room for the moan. Shouta palmed your breasts and tweaked your nipples into stiff peaks. Your ruined panties were forgotten as soon as Hizashi settled one of your legs over his shoulder, and he ran his long tongue along your slit.

"It's been a while since we've laid with a woman. You'll have to forgive us if we're a bit rusty," said Hizashi.

Hizashi ran his tongue along your slit again and hummed at your taste. His tongue dove between your folds and pinched your clit. Meanwhile, Shouta kept at his administrations to your chest and kissing your shoulders. You arched your back when you felt the tiniest pinprick of sharp teeth graze your skin. Shouta smirked at you and gave you a nice look at the fangs he had. Hizashi had the same situation going on. You could feel his teeth carefully caress your sensitive bits.

"Do you like my teeth, Y/N?" Asked Shouta.

You bit your lower lip and nodded.

"Then you're really going to like this." Shouta lowered his head to the spot where your neck met your shoulders.

He bit down, but not hard enough to draw blood. His hands continued to tease you while his mouth and teeth left dozens of love bites all over your neck. Hizashi pulled his head up from between your legs. He watched for a moment how your face twisted in ecstasy as Shouta marked your lovely skin. It didn't take long for the idea to get in his head that he should do the same. Hizashi brought his teeth against your inner thigh and nipped. He repeated the process over and over until both of your legs bore his teeth marks and hickies. You squirmed for them. Heat traveled in two directions, to your head and your lower belly. Hizashi resumed his task of fucking you with his tongue and added two fingers to help him in this endeavor. Soft squelches from you gushing over him was enough to make you never want to leave.

"You're so pliable, and your breasts are breathtaking," Shouta sighed next to your skin. "Are you about to cum, Y/N?"

You bucked your hips to the rhythm of Hizashi eating you out. Slowly, you nodded. Your fingers clutched Hizashi's head, mindful of his ears.

"Then," Shouta whispered the next part in your ear. "Cum."

Hizashi worked faster, pumping and licking your cunt. You grabbed for Shouta as pleasure ripped down your spine. Hizashi and Shouta shoved you face-first down the precipice. Your walls clenched tight around Hizashi's fingers and tongue while your jaws hung open. No one else could make you moan as loud as you did. And likely, nobody else ever will.

When Hizashi came up for air, his mouth and chin were drenched your essence. He leaned up, but instead of kissing you, he planted his lips on Shouta's. In turn, Shouta licked Hizashi's mouth to get a taste of you for himself while he was at. Shouta reached down and played with your clit while making-out with Hizashi briefly. You felt their members stand proudly against your body, and your inner walls clenched at the thought of one or both filling you to the brim.

Shouta and Hizashi kissed one more time. Hizashi peeled you off of Shouta just long enough for the latter to stretch out on his back. You were turned around. Shouta gestured with a 'come-hither' crook of his finger, and you crawled towards him. His hands grabbed your hips, made you straddle him, and pressed the blunt head of his cock against your slippery, wet cunt.

"Are you ready?" He asked. It was child's play holding you up like that with his cock more than ready to impale you.

You nodded your head. Shouta slowly, carefully pulled you down on his cock. It stretched you open again. You sank down on him until you were fully seated. You tried not to let your eyes roll into the back of your head. Shouta then grabbed your shoulders and pulled you down. Hizashi was right behind you, fisting his cock. He wasn't as big, but he was just as long. Hizashi placed his other hand on the small of your back. You felt his cock probe the area where Shouta was already preoccupied. Something clicked in your head. Shouta grabbed and clutched your hands. Beads of sweat ran down the side of your face while Hizashi brushed his cuck against your cunt.

"Look at me," said Shouta. "Look at me. You're going to be fine. We'll make you feel so good."

"So very good," Hizashi cooed.

You tightened your grip on Shouta's hands. You stared at his face as Hizashi pushed forward, stuffing you close to the point of damage. You were well-lubed up to take both of them, but in practice, this was your first time having two men fill you at the same time. Inch by careful inch, Hizashi pushed into your cunt. When he was fully seated, he let out a long sigh.

"I can feel both of you against, and it feels so good." Hizashi shuddered.

"Can you move?" Shouta asked Hizashi.

"Give me a minute."

You were given a few minutes reprieve, and in that time, you felt your lower belly swell. You felt them stretch you to impossible measures. Though tears stained your cheeks, you never felt more pleasure. The mixture of both pleasure and pain blurred the lines. It wasn't long before you were being pushed and pulled in either direction, their cocks fucking you deep.

Wet skin slapped against skin. The men you were sandwiched between grunted and moaned your praises at your ability to take them both so deep. There weren't any words you could say with any cohesion. Words became meaningless when being fucked into oblivion. Hizashi and Shouta worked in tandem. When one pulled out, the other plowed right in. Both cocks kissed your cervix as they drove themselves, and each other, wildly into your cunt. You felt fluids rush between your legs that mingled with your sweat. You squeezed Shouta's hands and buried your face in his chest.

Higher, higher, and higher still, you were flying. You bit Shouta's chest as their cocks thrust in and out. Your brain turned into mush at this point. All you cared about was getting fucked on their cocks forever. Little else mattered beyond that.

"I'm close," said Shouta.

"M-Me too," said Hizashi.

"Then let's finish it."

Without another word, they started to drive faster than before, and you thought it was impossible. Shouta returned your bruising grip and rammed upwards to meet Hizashi's downward thrust. They both moved quickly and headed towards coming undone inside you. You felt it too. Your walls spasmed and fluttered around both their cocks, though the stretch made it hard to tell. They shifted into an erratic pace rather than a smooth move. Their cocks drove harder into your cunt. Animalistic grunts filled the room as both Shouta and Hizashi slammed home. You screamed your climax just at the same time they did. You kept screaming while ropes of cum warmed your belly. You were moaning into Shouta's chest as you felt buckets of their seed filled your womb. There was nothing for you to wonder about why they were the gods of fertility and pregnancy.

Hizashi pulled all the out first. He massaged your shoulders while Shouta lifted your hips off him. Hizashi's long fingers dabbed some of the cum dripping down your thighs and pushed it back inside your weeping pussy.

"You gotta keep it in, ya, little sparrow. You want to be a good wife to your husbands, don't you?" Hizashi cooed.

*Ōkuninushi- mentioned in both the Kojiki and Nihon Shoki as the god of nation-building, agriculture, business, medicine, love, marriage, and fortune

#kinktober #kinktober week #my hero academia fanfiction #kinktober my hero academia edition #reader fic #hizashi yamada #present mic #presentation michael #present mic x reader #shouta aizawa #aizawa #eraserhead #eraserhead x reader #erasermic #erasermic x reader #poly #I'm also sorry it's ridiculously long

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astaroth1357 · 4 years

Text

Melancholy (A Leviathan x GN MC Fanfic)

I guess you could say I use a lot of personal experience when I write. If I get sad, I’ll write something sad. Lock me in my room and I’ll probably write something about my lamp. I hope you can at least get something out of my occasional literary catharsis. Also, communication is important. Always ask for help if you need to, there’s never any shame in doing so.

Warning: Themes of Depression, Angst

Melancholy: A feeling of pensive sadness, typically with no obvious cause.

Levi could barely manage his own mood sometimes, so never once did he think that he’d end up having to help someone else with their own. Under normal circumstances, he’d never considered getting involved. All his brothers knew that he was probably the least equipped to deal with their problems, physical or emotional. If they were concerned about completing a boss level or what anime to watch next, he had them covered, but sadness…? That was an Asmo problem or maybe a Beel. Don’t come to him.

But for the MC it was different… They seemed to gravitate to him since the day they first met, even though he tried to push them away. They liked him. They laughed at his dorky jokes and listened to his endless rambling. They would stay up late with him to play the latest game he just got or sit through his six-millionth re-watch of TSL with a smile on their face. He couldn’t quite place when it started to happen, but he felt himself getting slowly more attached to this peculiar human… He gradually started opening his world to them, and they didn’t seem to mind being a part of it. They were at ease with him and all his little eccentricities... It was a feeling of acceptance that he had always craved but was too afraid to seek. He wanted to be with them, hell, he probably even loved them.

So it hurt him in a special way to see them so sad… He couldn’t place why but some days, he’d just notice things were off about them. They wouldn’t laugh as much at his jokes or smile quite as wide when he launched into another one of his rants. He could see them trying. The corners of their mouth would raise briefly, but then drop like they were weighted by cement. Their eyes wouldn’t sparkle like they used to, they’d just stay flat, static… muted. Like something about them had decided to withdraw from the world, hiding away in a place he just couldn’t quite get to… He’d ask them what was wrong, but they never had a good answer for him. Most of the time, they wouldn’t even admit there was a problem. They’d put on that fragile smile and say everything was alright… Did they think he was blind? Sure, Levi knew he wasn’t the most well-versed in people’s emotions, but even he could point to sadness when he saw it. Especially in someone that he cared about so much…

In truth, he had been paying close attention to them for months now. With the same level of detail as he would his favorite character in a show or a voice actor who’s work he admired. He knew things about them that they may not have known about themselves… Their favorite foods and colors, how they stood and how they walked, the little habits they hung onto from the human world, and all the faces they’d make when no one else is watching... He knew it all as well as he knew any game he’s ever played, and why wouldn’t he? He was their biggest fan.

He tried using all that knowledge to cheer them up. As far as he was concerned, getting them to feel better was his new mission objective. Even his brothers took notice of his dedication to it. More deliveries started showing up at the House filled with very… not-Levi things for once. At one point, he had a rather irritated Lucifer knocking on his door to ask why there were twenty pounds worth flowers all piled in the entryway. He explained it away as him hitting the wrong option on accident, but in all honesty, it was because he ordered them flowers but just couldn’t decide which color or style would have been the best for a bouquet... So he bought them all.

They would always accept his gifts, and he could tell they liked them, but it never seemed to fix the problem... No matter what he bought them, there would still be those days where they looked just too forlorn to smile… It made his heart ache, and he wished that he could be good with people like Asmo or just put people at ease like Beel… Even Mammon was better at getting people to smile than he was… He wanted to help so badly, but every time he built up the courage to ask them about it, they’d never tell him what the problem was…

Slowly, he began to worry if it was him, like maybe he had done something wrong one day… That had to be it right…? He was a shut-in, he’s never really had to deal with people before… The fear, guilt, and frustration gradually ate at his mind for weeks while he scoured his memories for every little mistake he could have made... Did he miss an important date? Had he forgotten to call them back for something? Did he ignore them by accident one day? With every anxious thought, there was a pressure building inside him… He was growing convinced that MC was upset because of something he had done, but he didn’t want them to leave… not after he’d finally felt so understood. It was only a matter of time before his racing thoughts slipped over…

When they knocked on his door that day, he knew they weren’t in the best mood before they even walked in. Their hand hit his door softer than usual, tentative with a longer pause between strikes. He had half a mind to tell them that he was too busy to hang out that day, having to look at their woeful expression just hurt him that much... But he knew he couldn’t refuse them even if he wanted to. His lovesick heart could never turn them away…

His suspicions were proved true when they stepped in to say hello. They had that same weak smile… the dullness of their eyes almost refusing to reflect the cool, blue glow of his aquarium wall. What did they want from him…? Were they trying to rub something in? He was to busy digging through his mind for their motives to notice that they had crossed the room to stand next to his computer chair. At least not until they gently tapped his shoulder. The concerned look in their eye was enough to stop his heart, he would have leapt from his chair had they not been blocking the way.

“Levi…? Are you okay? I said hello…” There they were, clearly drowning in their own sorrow, yet they were still concerned for him of all people? The guy who couldn’t even make them smile...? His brain short-circuited for a moment, and his next words flew out without his say-so.

“I’m s-sorry!!” He watched them pause before their brow furrowed in confusion, probably because he had just shouted in their face... He suddenly wished he could shrink down and hide in Henry’s fishbowl… This is why he doesn’t deal with people...

“Sorry…? About what…?” His eyes flicked frantically around the room while he tried to form some kind of exit strategy, but there wasn’t much he could do. There really was no turning back now, was there…? He was finally going to have to say something… Demons don’t pray, but he could feel himself begging for someone, anyone, to make this go well…

“A-about well… You’ve been sad a lot lately and I uh… I know I didn’t remember to get you that limited edition Hinata figurine from the last convention we went to… Or that you had a test to study for a few weeks ago when I tried to get you to play Devil’s Haven with me… I also didn’t notice your last haircut until an hour after I saw you and I accidentally ate your pudding cup from Madame Scream’s and blamed it on Beel-”

“Levi…”

“-I know I should have gotten the red camellias instead of the pink on that last batch of flowers. I saw the balance was off-”

“Levi.”

“-but I thought it’d be okay. Oh, and I’m sorry I hit you with that body pillow last week! I was aiming for Mammon, I sw-”

“Leviathan!” They had to put their finger over his mouth to keep him from rambling on. His face flushed almost immediately, in part due to embarrassment but also because of their proximity. The MC’s face had softened considerably, but he could still see the lingering sadness over their features… Had he not said enough…?

“You… You actually think that it’s your fault that I’m like this…?” They took their finger back and looked at him expectantly. Levi swallowed a growing lump in his throat and nodded hesitantly. He didn’t trust himself not to launch into another self-conscious tirade if he tried opening his mouth again… It felt like a stab to the chest when he saw their expression dip farther into despair.

“It’s not your fault, Levi… I just…” They drew in a deep breath and let it out as a sullen sigh, avoiding his eyes. “I just get sad sometimes… It’s a passing mood swing. I can’t really control it, and it doesn’t always have a reason… You’ve actually been helping me, though.” Levi’s amber-toned eyes widened like saucers, he could barely believe his ears. Was this a dream, or had they just told him that he actually helped them with something…?

“I have…??” The dumbstruck look on his face must have been pretty amusing because they actually graced him with their smile, full and authentic with no hidden melancholy.

“Yes, you dork! You have.” The light from his aquarium finally touched their eyes, dancing in amongst the natural sparkle that always accompanied their gaze. “That’s why I always keep coming here… Your jokes, your gifts… just how excited you get when you see something you love… it... It all helps. It really does…” A pang of guilt seemed to hit them as they turned away from him again, shrinking back from his presence.

“I’m so sorry I never said anything to you… I must have been showing up at your door sadder and sadder each time… No wonder you thought you were behind it…” They averted his stunned gaze by watching the jellyfish float behind his wall. “You must have felt awful… I hope you can forgive me…” The genuine remorse in their voice sent his mind into an anxious panic. He wanted, no, needed to do something now. He just couldn’t bear one more minute of their sadness…

“N-no it’s fine!” They turned back toward him in shock when his hands grasped at the hem of their shirt, his sitting form straining to try and coax their standing one closer. He just didn’t want them to pull away again… “I’m not mad or anything, I just… wish you would talk to me, you know? I want to help…”

They were silent for a few moments, eyeing him with mixed emotions and darkened cheeks, but soon let him pull them in. He rested his head on their stomach while his arms glued to their waist. It may not have been the most conventional position, but it was one where they were close, so frankly, Levi could care less. He felt them settle into it slowly, resting an arm around his shoulders while their fingers combed softly through his hair. The feeling almost made him shiver, but he didn’t want to ruin the mood.

After several long minutes locked in tranquility, he found that he just had to ask…

“MC… Is this helping…?” His heart skipped a beat when he finally heard their laugh once more, soft and charming as it always was…

“Yes, Levi… You always do…”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me fanfic #obey me gender neutral mc #leviathan x mc #leviathan

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wolfs-hunt1 · 4 years

Text

Love in the form of four paws

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word count: 1551

Warnings: fluff, angst?, mentions of depression and some past traumas. sorry for any typo

A/N: Drunk drabbles for @the-ss-horniest-book-club After so long of not writing anything (uni is chaotic at the moment) here’s something that starts out sad but will hopefully warm up your heart.

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After everything that has happened, Bucky felt lonely despite being surrounded by his teammates. He was never the same after Hydra, and no amount of therapy was helping him feel like he fit in.

He could feel Steve was trying his best to bring his best friend back, but that Bucky was gone, killed during the war, all that was left was the shadow of the man he was. And that scared him more than he would like to admit it. He started skipping morning practices with Sam and Steve and before he knew it, he wasn't even showing up for sparing with Natash anymore.

Slowly he isolated more and more from the others and eventually even moved out of the compound, getting a small apartment in Brooklyn to try and reconnect to his long lost self. He started putting up a bit of weight, but admittedly, it made him feel like he was finally moving on, like he didn't have to be constantly fit and ready for a fight. He liked this new him.

But his apartment still felt too big and lonely. He wanted company, despite having run away from it, he wanted comfort only another soul could give him. So he made up his mind and search for a shelter around his area that he could go to. He found one only half an hour drive away, so without thinking more of it, he picked up his keys and made his way to the elevator descending the five floors to the underground parking lot and getting into his car.

The drive was mostly spent thinking about what type of dog he thought would be best for him. A bigger dog would be preferable because he was too scared that if he was too small he would step on him, and the less fur he had the better, because he wanted to be able to pet him, and whit his metal hand his fur could get stuck in it.

Once he parked outside of the animal shelter he had a pretty nice idea of what type of dog he wanted, and so he walked inside with confidence and waited at the front desk for someone to show up. The shelter had a pet store in the front, and the animals for adoption in the back, so it was easier to pick out all the items the dog would need after he found the perfect dog.

He could hear sound approaching from behind the door, and he saw a little girl leaving with a small dog followed by her mother and a girl with a grey shirt with the shelter logo embroidered on it. She looked at Bucky and smiled, telling him she would be right with him in a moment. He only nodded and waited patiently for her to return.

"Hi! My name is (Y/N), how can I help you today?" she says cheerily once she returns to the desk, shuffling around some papers and storing them inside a folder.

"I'm looking to get a dog, if it was a larger breed and with no fur, it would be…." Bucky gets interrupted by her light giggle, and suddenly feels himself relax his tense shoulders and smiling softly at her. He took her in, her bright eyes and soft-looking hair up in a messy bun, paired with her rosy cheeks and a bright smile.

"Everyone usually walks in with the same idea. They want a specific pet, but what they don't know is that that's not how it works. The animals here choose their owners. Not the other way around." She grabs some keys on her desk and walks closer to the door she had come from before. "Come along, I'll show you our beauties. And then we can select some for you to spend some time with to bond and see how they react around you."

Bucky nods and follows suit. "Sounds good." he says. The first room she unlocks leads to a big room filled with cages with cats of all breeds. They all started mewing and preening up at Bucky, wanting to catch his attention.

"The dog's pen is right ahead…" she stops talking when she sees Bucky looking at some of the smaller kittens, that are playing around with their brothers. There's a smaller cat with them, that was just to the side of the cage, not movie too much.

"What's wrong with the little guy?" he asks, getting closer to the cage and slowly raising his palm to the door.

"He was the only survivor of his litter, even him mom passed away, and so he wasn't alone we put him with the others kittens, he's having a hard time adjusting though, so he's always alone in that corner." She puts a hand on his shoulder and smiles up at him once more while looking at the small kitten. "I can take him out for you, if you want? To see how he reacts to being picked up."

Bucky's forlorn look vanishes and he looks at her expectantly while nodding, stepping away from the cage while she unlocks it so that Bucky could have access to all the small kittens. She stays silent for a while, just looking at the way he's being gentle with them all and pats his arm to catch his attention.

"You seem quite smitten with these kittens, and I might have someone that will be happy to see you and have some company for his final moments. Why don't you stay here while I go pick him up?" Bucky nods and turns his attention back to the small balls of fur currently climbing his henley shirt and nestling up to his arms and neck.

She returns with a bigger cat, fur white with small grey patches. Once they're both close enough Bucky can take a better look at the cat in her arms, and notice the missing leg and left ear.

"This is Pirate. He came to the shelter really beaten up, lost his ear and his leg, and because of that, no one wants him. This is his last week here, and I want him to be happy. He's a big cuddle bug and loves to be petted, but I can't give him attention all day, unfortunately." (Y/N) moves closer to Bucky and gently motions for him to pick up the white cat, which he does gladly, while the furry thing starts to lick up his palm and purring low on his belly.

"He's so calm and friendly, why wouldn't anyone take him home?" Bucky's frown fades once the white cat lays on his arms, and the kitten snuggles with them, their size contrast warming up Bucky's heart.

"Some people prefer the cute pups or kittens, and end up leaving the older animals here to be forgotten. But all they want is just to be loved, and a few treats." she says with a giggle.

Bucky is silent for a few moments looking at the two so different cats on his arms, but yet so equal. All they want is a loving home and a place to belong. Just like him. They were all looking for the same thing, and together they could have it.

"I never thought myself to be a cat guy, but they are quickly warming up to me." The small kitten started mewling and trying to climb higher, reaching up to Buckys stubbled cheek and scratching it's tinny head on him, all while he tried to stay still so as not to make the little one fall from his shoulder. "And I guess I'm also warming up to these guys."

"I'll make all the arrangements then!"

Half an hour later, with a lot of cat items in the trunk of his car and the two furry creatures nestled together in a carrier Bucky was ready to sign the adoption papers and get home with his new companions.

"This is all the papers you will need, along with the notes for the checkups and any medical need they might have, you can directly come to us and we'll help."

Bucky looks fondly back at his car, seeing the two cats curled up together, the two cats that I heartbeat took over his own heart and made him want to take them home without a second guess.

"I'm going to be honest, I'm gonna miss Pirate a lot. But I'm extremely grateful that he's going home with such a nice person. Thank you for saving him. Both of them."

"You know, you can still see him... we could go for a coffee one of these days?" Bucky's voice is low, almost as if he was too shy to even ask her out, but the slow smile spreading on her face let him know that she had heard it.

"I would like that a lot." she scribbles something on a post-it and hands it to him, her phone number. "Give me a call?" He nods enthusiastically and the rest of his ride home he can't help but smile at the decision he had made that morning of driving to the animal shelter. Not only he got two new adorable cats, he had also met someone that made him want to get back out and give love another chance.

#chubby Bucky #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #drunk drabbles #hbc drunk drabbles #My writing #hbc clean up the archive challenge

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littlespaceporgs · 4 years

Text

Inevitable

Leah! Congrats on your follower milestone! 🥳💕 May I request 5. a gentle “i love you” whispered after a soft kiss, followed immediately by a stronger kiss for Anakin Skywalker? Thank you, love! 🥰

A/N: Hey! This is my first time writing for Anakin, I tried to make him not as whiny as he is in the movies, so I ran with tcw! *cough* this is also my longest one somehow *cough* So spoiler alert! It does have references and is set in the Zygerria arc in tcw, just a heads up, though it makes sense still if you haven’t seen the arc. Also fair warning, if you want it to stay fluffy at the very end, I recommend you don’t read the final paragraph. Anyway, enjoy :D

Want to Request? See Here.

Inevitable

Prompt: #5 - a gentle “i love you” whispered after a soft kiss, followed immediately by a stronger kiss

Word Count: 1.9k Pairing: Anakin x Jedi!Reader Warnings: slavery, torture, hint of depression Description: Post-Zygerria, you contemplate your feelings for Anakin.

Tags for the fam: @anakin-danvers @fractiouskat

It hadn’t gone well to say the least. Mind, it was rare that this type of thing went well. It was supposed to just be a trip to check on the Togrutans. Naturally, you had walked onto Kiros expecting a fight, after all, the last thing the Jedi had heard from them, a separatist fleet had entered the atmosphere. But this was by far the worst thing you’d ever gotten yourself into.

Kiros itself was a beautiful planet. The art and architecture was something to marvel at, and the landscape was vastly different to the cold grey of Coruscant. You found yourself hoping that one day you’d be able to holiday there, it was nice climate, there hadn’t been any traces of the war due to their neutrality until recently. The lack of habitants however was quite frankly disturbing.

Between Anakin, Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, the troopers and yourself, you all had made quick work of the droids. When you received word that the Zygerrians had a part to play in all of this, Obi-Wan went to meet up with the separatist leader, you stayed behind to comfort Anakin. Said Anakin was currently sitting in front of a speeder, looking highly volatile. The best way to approach Anakin when he was in such a mood was with quiet and a steady hand, so you started by placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Ani? Are you ok?” While he didn’t turn to look at you, his hands did stop fiddling with the machinery. He exhaled heavily through his nose and went back to modifying the speeder.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” You sat down next to him, and snatched the wrench out of his hands, which prompted a noise of protest as he turned to glare at you.

“See you say that, but there’s this thing called a ‘facial expression’ which says otherwise.” Using the force to snatch the wrench back, he went back to using the wrench. “Ani, you know you can talk to me right?” He sighed and stopped once more.

“Yeah, I know,” you reached over, and took one of his hands in yours, “this is just digging up some memories I’d rather not think about.” He twisted his hand over, so that his fingers locked in yours, and squeezed gently.

“I’m really sorry that you went through that, Ani, truly I am. I can’t even begin to imagine what it was like,” you paused and took a breath, “but what I do know, is that you’re one of the strongest people I know, and I know that because of that you’ll move past this.” Though not seeming totally happy, one of the corners of his mouth pulled a little, he shook his head and looked directly into your eyes before they flicked to your hands.

“Honestly, what would I ever do without you?” The jedi in you wanted to recite the code, say that he would be perfectly fine without you, that he’d have to find a way to move on and accept it, say that he shouldn’t be saying such things. But the utterly human part of you felt overly fuzzy, and affection reared its head in your stomach. Ignoring the trepidation, you smiled back at him.

“Probably something stupid, or make more poor decisions.” He snorted out an airy laugh and squeezed your hand a little tighter. The moment didn’t last however, as the tone of a comm rang out from his wrist from Obi-Wan.

That was what led you to Zygerria, attempting to find the Togrutans. With quick assurances and a look that seemed to be forlorn, you and Anakin separated. He went with Ahsoka to find the Queen, while you, Obi-Wan and Rex went on the hunt for the missing people. You should have listened to the awful, rotting feeling in your stomach, then maybe, you all wouldn’t have been taken.

As a jedi, you relished in the feeling of freedom. With a connection to the force, you could feel everything around you, feel the flow of energy between all if you will. It made you feel light, like a small breeze could carry you away, like every breath of fresh was your first. Down here, that was all taken away from you. The walls combined with the heat made you suddenly feel claustrophobic and the collar around your neck weighed you down. Between you and Obi-Wan, it normally would’ve been easy to break out. A tiny twitch of a finger, and the collar would be crushed. A swipe of the hand would smack the guards into a wall. Then you’d both be able to grab Rex and go. If Anakin were here, maybe you’d be able to achieve that.

It wasn’t a normal situation however.

There were others involved. If either of you even threatened to do something, they would torture a civilian, possibly even drive them to death. In your current state, you wouldn’t be able to take out the sheer number of guards quick enough before lives would be lost. They had realised that there was little in the way of physical torture that would cause a jedi to break. This, however, felt hopeless. Your hands were tied. You were hungry, exhausted, and felt overwhelmed with the sadness that practically poured out of their force signatures.

When the slaver was finally dead, you couldn’t help the sense of sick satisfaction that came with it. He deserved to die for what he did, and the subtle brush of a force signature told you Obi-Wan felt similarly. Despite being able to breathe without a collar for the first time in days, your lungs couldn’t seem to get any air, and your knees were aching, and your back was pounding with angry pain. Vaguely you remembered your knees slamming the ground and Obi-Wan kneeling near your head and calling your name.

Out of habit from the past few days, you woke up abruptly, although things were different. You started hyperventilating, and suddenly the world felt too small again. No matter what was actually happening, you couldn’t see anything except the dirty halls of the mine, the faces of the Togrutans who were tortured because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. And then blue eyes. There was a hand stroking your hair, and another trying to get you to keeping looking into the eyes. And then a whisper. It wasn’t loud, but it was comforting, soft. The words steadily became clearer and you finally noticed your surroundings. For one, instead of the smell of coal and grime, it smelt like a forest on Naboo. Instead of a metal bench, there was a mattress and a soft blanket covering your legs. The light was low, but you could see the glow of hyperspace speeding past. And Anakin.

The glow was luminating his face, which looked both soft and concentrated. You could see the shadows under his eyes that you likely mirrored. As he stopped speaking, the foggy feeling lifted, and you realised that he had been trying to force suggest you to calm down. Now that your breathing had returned to some semblance of normal, his hand moved from your face, though he didn’t stop stroking your hair.

“Are you ok?” You took a deep breath to steady yourself.

“Yeah. Yeah I think I’m ok.” It was silent for a minute before Anakin moved to sit in front of you on the bed. You sat with your back up against the wall with a pillow wedged between and your legs crossed. The meaning of the silence was clear. “I just – I don’t think that I want to talk about it yet.” You turned your head to your lap, and watched as he placed his much larger hands over your own.

“It’s okay, I understand the feeling.” The silence swept over you, the words got caught in your throat, choking you. Your eyes and throat seemed to burn. He only moved his thumb over your hand, acting as an anchor. He shoved your knee slightly, getting your attention.

“Y’know, as a wise jedi knight once told me, ‘you’re the strongest person I know, you’ll get through this’.” You laughed despite yourself, and Anakin’s hand beat yours to wiping the tears from your face.

“Thanks, Ani,” you sniffled, and you couldn’t help the warmth that flooded your cheeks when he didn’t move his hand.

“Of course, you know I’d do anything for you right? I was really worried when Obi-Wan had to carry you back here.” Your heart skipped a beat, and your stomach churned. If that wasn’t attachment, you don’t know what was. You couldn’t bring yourself to point that out however. You knew that you’d do the same for him. You sighed.

“Anakin-I” you started, but you couldn’t seem to string together the words. Your heart raised in your throat, and he gave you a momentarily confused look. “You’re amazing, you know that? You-just-I- you always seem to ‘get’ me and I really appreciate that you’re always here for me and I-um” It was something that you’d never said before. You’d felt that way for him for the longest time, but you ignored it for the code. So instead of saying it, you closed your eyes, and pushed your signature out to brush his, hoping that it carried the years of longing, and the warmth that just looking at him brought you. And then a wave of the same feeling washed over you. It made your heart jump and you almost cried at the pure joy that came from him.

And then you could feel his breath on your face, and the most cautious of kisses. It was barely there, almost just a brush of the lips, but the feelings were all there. Foreheads pressed together, two hearts racing. Cautious, because of the code, because you both knew what could happen it you strayed, because of all the secrets that would have to exist. A whisper, like he was afraid that if he said it too loud, someone else might hear him, despite it just being the two of you.

“I love you.” Both your hands flew to his cheeks and pulled him closer again, and one of his drifted from your cheek to the back of your neck to hold you there. When you kissed this time, you threw caution to the wind. He kissed just as hard as you did, and stole your breath as he did.

When you pulled apart, the look you shared said everything. You smiled and breathed out a short laugh. To hell with the kriffing code.

“I love you too.”

You supposed it was inevitable, you were the one he went to when he was mad at Obi-Wan, when he was so overwhelmed that he could barely think, when a mission hadn’t gone well and he needed to calm down. Therefore, this meant all the secret moments you were to share in the future were inevitable. You hadn’t even considered the possibility of what would happen in the future when you threw out caution. Was it inevitable that you were at least partly at fault for everything going to shit? Had that meant his fall was inevitable too?

#anakin x reader #Obi-Wan Kenobi #captain rex #clone wars anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #the clone wars #tcw #star wars #fanfiction #zygerria

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hheeyyhay · 4 years

Text

The Familiarity of New Memories

Pairing: Hitoshi Shinso x Reader (can pass as gender neutral if ya squint)

Summary: Old traditions make way for new ones as reader makes new friends with the help of a certain ball of fur.

OR Shinso volunteers at a shelter with a grumpy old cat who just so happens to play matchmaker between himself and the newcomer to town.

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy my contribution to the Konoha Simps’ latest server collab!! You can check out all the other wonderful pieces in this event right here. This is the first piece of fan fiction that I have written since high school, and the first piece I have ever put out into the world for others to see. I cannot thank the members of the Konoha Simps Server enough for giving me the motivation and courage I needed to FINALLY do this-- I love you guys so much!!

Warning(s): fluff, mentions of anxiety/depression

quirkless college AU

Word Count: ~3K

There was no doubt about it, summer was officially on the way out. You could tell by the way green leaves were giving way to crisp splotches of red, yellow, and orange. In the way the cool breeze kissed your cheeks as it danced by. Most importantly, you could tell by the way your workload for classes picked up.

You tried to take in your surroundings-- take a moment to process a quick hello to autumn, and with it a farewell to simpler times. Gone would be the times where your biggest worries were what kind of trouble you would have to convince the rest of your friends to stay out of in between shifts at the local cafe. Normally, this goodbye was easier to say as it leaned to the happier side of bittersweet. After all, back home fall was your favorite season. That was all in the past though.

In your hometown, your walks around the neighborhood at the start of fall were comforting. You could stroll the streets with a snack in one hand, and a warm drink in the other as you headed to meet up with your friends under the canopy of changing leaves at the park. With textbooks sprawled across picnic tables and blankets the support of your friends kept you all warm against the slowly dropping temperatures. However, it was no longer the streets of your hometown that you were strolling along with a backpack over your shoulders, and it was no longer your friends at your side, but strangers.

You shivered, pulling your thick cardigan closer around yourself with a heavy sigh. You had been so certain that moving hundreds of miles away from home to finish your college work was a good idea. You had told your anxious family and friends that you would be fine, being alone in a new place for a while was just a sacrifice you had to be willing to make in order to pursue your dreams. Yet you began to doubt the truth in your own claims as the usual cold autumn wind whipped your hair about. It felt foreign rather than welcome as it would back home. The chill sunk into your bones where it mixed with your new found loneliness causing you to wrap your arms around your middle.

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” you thought to yourself pulling out your phone to see no new messages in response to all the ones you had sent out. You had known your friends for years and were lost without them. You sighed once more, shaking your head as you pocketed your phone. It had been the fifth time in an hour that you checked your phone knowing there were not any notifications you had already seen. You scolded yourself for being foolish and worrying that your friends had moved on without you.

You had been distracted by the chatter of your own inner demons the entire rest of your walk, and it was not long before you were turning off the sidewalk onto the back walkway leading around to the front of the library.

You were headed inside to study on your own at the tables inside. It had become your new tradition after having found it too hard to study outside at any of the parks, where all the passerby would remind you of just how lonely you were here in this new town. As you rounded the corner and came up alongside the library you paused, noticing a lot more noise and chatter than usual. Balloons and signs amongst the visitors caught your eye. “Adoption day?”

You wandered closer to the tents that were set up in a corner of the parking lot. Upon closer inspection you realized that the people were gathering around various cages, crates, and pens filled with pets from the local shelter. There were as many different people there looking for new four legged family members to bring home as there were animals. Some children were leaning over a crate full of guinea pigs, others were picking out rabbits from one of the other pens, and still others were begging their parents for either a puppy or kitten. There were couples young and old alike speaking with the volunteers about which cat or dog was the best fit for them. You wished you could hang around a little longer, but there were so many people in such a small space that you could not help, but feel anxious. Turning away to finally walk inside you pulled out your phone once more to smile down at your lock screen; a photo of your cat from back home.

Pocketing your phone you caught a glimpse of something familiar out of the corner of your eye. Following your line of sight as you walked away, you were surprised to recognize a boy from campus. If his wild purple hair and dark under eye bags were not enough to make him stand out from the crowd then his lanky limbs decked out in his unique dark, edgy style definitely was. You paused at the top of the staircase to the library and watched as he spun around to crouch in front of a cage. As he stood there squatting in front of the cage you realized that he was a volunteer from the shelter along with the others.

With one last final look over your shoulder you walked through the door, leaving the boy and all the homeless pets outside. As he disappeared from view at your departure, you caught a last glimpse of him pulling a rather forsaken cat out of the cage he had previously been standing in front of. Heading to your usual secluded table behind some less frequented bookshelves you tried to not think of the cat or the boy who held it in his arms. From what you had observed from your short visit to the Adoption Day Event, no one else had shown the poor old cat any sort of attention. The lump of fur was not only fluffy, but a bit on the large side, and while his coat was far from scraggly you could tell that he had only recently fallen on some sort of good fortune. He was missing a leg and both eyes, rendering him blind. It made you sad to think that the others were more than likely passing over the cat in favor of the other healthier, younger cats who would not have as many problems. As far as the boy, you could not even begin to guess why he seemed to be clouding up your thoughts. It was not like you had ever spoken to him before.

Your thoughts were a jumbled mess and before you had known it you were throwing your pen down in frustration. “Ughhhh! This is useless! It has been two hours and I have barely put a dent into this chapter,” you dropped your head into your notebook as you slammed your textbook closed.

“Maybe I would have been better off just studying at home afterall,” you thought to yourself as you packed up the rest of your belongings.

You stopped at the circulation desk on your way to the exit to check out a book you had reserved on your previous trip in. “At least today wasn’t a total loss,” you thought to yourself as you gripped the book to your chest and headed for the door.

As you threw open the door and made your exit you were once again met with the chill of the outside air. It did not feel as cold as it had that morning though. You looked down at the book clutched to your chest and then back out across the parking lot. With a smile on your face and a new sense of determination that you had not felt since you had moved you found yourself walking across back to the makeshift shelter. The crowds from earlier had long since thinned only serving to further justify your impulsive decision.

With a deep breath you had brought yourself up to one of the tables where the last few volunteers were congregated around the forlorn cat. Everything else was just about picked up and it was clear he had not been able to find a “furever” home at the event. The volunteers, mostly middle aged women with bright smiles, greeted you and asked if you wanted any information on the shelter they were from or if you were perhaps interested in volunteering yourself.

You explained that you had recently moved to the area to finish your schooling, but that you had been especially missing your cat from back home. You showed them a few pictures as you expressed interest in the cat lounging on the table and using his one good front paw to swat away anyone who tried to pet him.

A deep voice from behind you startled you out of your conversation, “You really want that mangey thing instead of a cute kitten?”

You turned around and were met with the lanky boy from campus. You had been about to argue with him, stand up for your new feline friend when you noticed the boy was giving you a devilish smirk and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Shinso Hitoshi,” he extended his other hand to you, “I’ve uh--seen you around school a few times.”

You shook the offered hand and introduced yourself as well, “We have two classes together. I’d hope you’ve seen me around at least once or twice.” You tried to play it off cool as a blush crept up the back of your own neck. Your eyes searched each other up and down briefly and it took a lot of self control to not make an attempt to hide your face as you felt the blush grow across your cheeks as you watched Shinso’s own face begin to turn red.

“Ahh, well, I’m fostering old Charlie here until he recovers more from his surgery,” Shinso made a show of gesturing to his own eyes and then to Charlie’s like it was some secret or he did not want to hurt the cat’s feelings. You could not help, but stifle a laugh. From the impressions you had of Shinso you had not expected him to be so forward, or funny for that matter. “Lucky for you, Charlie is quite picky and has scared away any potential suitors.”

Shinso reached around you and was able to give Charlie a few successful scratches under his chin. You reached forward too and copied Shinso’s movements. While Charlie was a little hesitant at first, he quickly warmed up to you and much to Shinso’s surprise, even let you pick him up and give him forehead kisses.

“Alright, well I guess you passed the test,” he congratulated you as he took Charlie from your arms and gently placed him into a carrier. “He has another week or so, until he’s ready to go to a new home. If you want you can fill out one of the adoption contact cards and then one of us at the shelter can give you a call when it’s time for him to get ready to go home to you?” Shinso turned away as he once again began rubbing the back of his neck as he started turning red again, “Orrrrr, I don’t know. Maybe you could give me your number and I could text you updates or something?”

The other volunteers had slowly begun to disperse during your interaction with Shinso, and the last older woman who was left chuckled a bit to herself as she passed you a clipboard with the adoption paperwork. “Just fill this out for me dear and then Charlie will be all yours pending his final follow up with the vet. Shinso can go ahead and answer any questions you may have.” She gave you a final pat on the shoulder as she wandered off to help the others finish cleaning up.

You quickly filled out the paperwork and handed it back to Shinso, your phone sitting on top of the clipboard unlocked and already opened to the messaging app so he could add his number, “Please don’t tell me you volunteer at the shelter just to use the poor animals as your wingmen.”

Shinso made quick work of adding his number to your contacts and made sure he had yours as well before adding the clipboard to a pile on the table. “Only when they help me get the courage to finally talk to a girl I’ve had my eye on since she first transferred a couple weeks ago.” His face was red and his eyes were downcast. You wondered if maybe your first impressions of him were true and that Charlie had inspired him to do something out of his comfort zone just like the cat had done for you.

You could not put your finger on it, but you once again found your thoughts swimming with the boy from campus. This time though you had a name and even a voice to put to the face. You were not ready to say goodbye and decided to stay to help Shinso and the other volunteers finish cleaning up. The sun was quickly setting at that point and as the darkness rolled in so did another bout of cool autumn wind. However, this time you hardly noticed it. It carried a clean, crisp scent of fall that felt the most familiar than it had since your move.

You passed the time with idle chit chat, quickly becoming closer and closer to Shinso. You learned a lot about each other and came to realize you had a lot more in common than you would have ever thought.

Pausing you closed your eyes and tilted your head back taking a few deep breaths. It had been ages since you felt this content. You were not alone, you were not worried about the many different reasons your friends could possibly have for not texting you back, and you were not worried about the fear of never finding somewhere to fit in within this new place. You walked over to where Shinso had Charlie’s carrier resting on the sidewalk leading towards the back of the library. Kneeling down you poked your fingers as far through the bars as you could manage, “Thanks Charlie. Without you, I really wouldn’t have any friends here and I don’t think I would be able to love the fall anymore. With you by my side maybe I’ll be able to remember being stuck in this new place will be worth it all in the end.”

You had not realized that Shinso had come up behind you, and you bumped into him as you tried standing up. He gripped your elbow tightly as you regained your balance, “So you really are new around here huh? I thought so, but. Well. I don’t know.” Shinso shrugged his shoulders sheepishly as he let go of you and quickly gave you back your space. As he avoided your gaze and looked up at the setting sun you noticed just how dark the circles under his eyes really were.

“Yeah. Uhm,” you shifted your weight back and forth nervously as you tugged at your own sleeves. “Thanks for helping me with the adoption stuff. I hope Charlie doesn’t give you too much of a hard time before he can come home.”

There was a tension in the air as you were both starting to get cold as the dark approached, but neither of you particularly wanted to be the first to leave. You tucked a strand of loose hair between your ear, using the action to hide your face a bit as you gnawed on your lip. Shinso mirrored your uneasy behavior, staying halfway turned away and pulling his fingers through the mop of purple hair on his head. Luckily, Charlie had woken up and given a pitiful meow that sounded more like a chirp. It was just the encouragement you both needed as you and Shinso were once again able to make eye contact.

“It’s getting pretty dark and looks like it may rain,” Shinso broke away and looked up at the sky momentarily. You could not help, but be mesmerized by the way the sunset played on his pale features, accentuating his jawline. You felt the blush making its presence known on your face once more and simply nodded. Charlie chirpped again as if he were trying to encourage Shinso to continue on before he blew his shot. “My place isn’t too far from here. We could head there and hangout with Charlie for a bit to wait out the rain, and then I could walk you home if you’d like?...”

You could tell Shinso was nervous to hear your answer as he began rubbing at the back of his neck. Grabbing his wrist to gently guide it back down you flashed him a genuine smile as it felt like a weight was being lifted from your shoulders. The moment was interrupted by Charlie who decided that was the perfect opportunity to make it known that it was past his dinner time. “Come on Shinso, we wouldn’t want to make old Charlie think we’re planning on starving him.”

Shinso laughed and bent down to grab the carrier. “Wait until he realizes he’s going on a d-i-e-t after he’s fully healed up,” he spelt out. Charlie made a noise from the back of his carrier like he understood what Shinso was saying and was not pleased about it, which only made you laugh that much harder.

You once again found yourself taking the rear pathway behind the library into town. This time was different though. You were no longer alone. You had two new friends you could confide in. The leaves dancing in the autumn breeze were once again a welcomed sight. The dropping temperatures no longer reached the innermost corners of your bones amplifying your loneliness. The ghosts of the memories of your friends were no longer haunting you everywhere you looked as you walked down the street. There was now someone special you could create new memories and cherish the autumn with.

#hitoshi shinsou #hitoshi shinso x reader #shinso #bnha shinsou #mha shinsou #bnha shinso x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #fan fiction #shinso x y/n #bnha imagines #mha imagines

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finleyjayne · 4 years

Text

Everyone is Sad Sometimes

Steve Rodgers x Reader

Summary: During a depressive episode the end of the tunnel can seem impossible to reach. Your therapist says that you are not alone in your feelings but you don’t believe them. They don’t live in a compound with superheroes. After a run in with a certain super soldier, You can’t help but wish to bask your sorrows in your secret stash of icecream, what will happen when someone else has the same Idea?

Warnings: Angst, Panic Attacks

A/N: Sorry not sorry, Thank you for the photo Google. Also I’m going to tag @captain-rogers-beard because I am new and I want at least one person to read this.(Thank you Mimi)

Depression hits everyone at one time or another. That's what your therapist keeps telling you. It's just hard to see how the literal superheroes around you are dealing with depression. Like sure Tony locks himself into his bubble of work, Natasha goes missing for a week every month, and Bucky... don't even start with Bucky. Even Thor could be seen putting himself into the line of fire more after his brother's death. So maybe Dr. Pronce isn't wholly wrong.

At least that was what you were starting to believe. Until Steve walked into the small breakroom, you were currently using to meditate. Steve was a God among men, and he had yet to have an "off" day in your presence. Compared to your increasing lack of good days, Steve was perfect. Even now, he was whistling a jaunty tune, his steps bouncing as he set up his sketchpad in front of the windows.

Sitting in the corner, obscured by a stately, wingback chair as you were, he didn't even notice you. Which was great for people watching. Even better for you to get a nonpartial read on how the imposing, and reserved man before you was really feeling. Keeping quiet, you watched as he smiled to himself. A relaxed, carefree thing., full of contentment. You fought the urge to sigh.

How could he be so happy about what was going on outside? It was overcast, all the trees were dead, the snow was murky because of all the combat drills that had been done throughout the field since it had last snowed. Even the cardinals and squirrels that found their homes in the nearby trees were absent. Probably hunkering down for before the next storm was supposed to hit.

Your frown deepened at the thought. The winter storms did nothing to help your increasing hopelessness; in fact, they seemed to do the opposite. Not only did they make the impending sense of doom that you usually could keep at bay absolutely unbearable, but the dramatic pressure changes also made your very human body ache from all of the past abuse you've lived through.

Before you can realize how it would give you away, you start to rub at a particularly sore scar on the side of your forearm. Even after the Captain was staring surprised at you, you continued to stare at him.

"I hope you realize it's impolite to stare." He says casually, his eyes barely flickering to you before going back to the window.

You startle slightly at being noticed. "I've heard that before. I've also heard that it's impolite to do a great many other things, Captain. Most of which the population of America does every single day." You respond, continuing to stare.

Steve chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest as he takes the armchair across from your hiding place. "Oh, really? What would this list consist of?"

"Crossing your arms." you deadpan, pulling your knees closer.

"Touche," he states, leaning back into the chair, relaxing his arms. Going back to his leisure surveillance. His hands twirling a charcoal pencil between their lithe fingers.

After what was probably too long a silence, words pop out of your mouth. "What are you looking at? There are better views out of the other windows. The snow isn't even clean."

"Sometimes, the lack of beauty is where true beauty lies." He whispers, his voice convincingly soft.

"Who are you quoting, my mother?"

"Not quoting anyone. Just trying to remember what a friend. If I was to quote them, I would've said, 'Ugliness is just a failure of seeing.'" His voice wavered a bit as he continued to stare out the window. Turning to you, he cleared his throat. "What are you doing behind the chair instead of in it?"

You laugh sardonically, "Meditating. I'm a bit of a claustrophile."

He gives you a strange look. "Oh? Are you sure you aren't hiding from something."

"Steve, not that it's any of your business, but I am always hiding from something. It's daily life for me," you say. Not wanting to answer any more questions, you stand lithely make your way to the door.

He looked startled at your abrupt movement. "You don't have to go. I didn't mean to offend you."

"Look, Steve, I know you are just trying to be helpful. I also know that you can't really stop being yourself, and I don't really want to either. But I really can't handle being in the same room with your positivity right now. You're too happy, and it's not making me feel any better about my lack of happy. So stay, enjoy your sketching, see you at training tomorrow." You turn around before you could see the hurt playing over his face.

Later that night, you still felt awful at your inability to be content with any of the blessings you have been given since becoming one of the Avengers. Even when in sleep, the unending hopelessness caused your sinuses to burn until you woke yourself up with your tears. Finally, giving up around two in the morning, you make your way to the secondary kitchen in search of your hidden stash of comfort icecream.

To your surprise, the light in the kitchen is on when you round the corner. Trying to act like you aren't dying on the inside, you circle the island cupboards to see the weirdest sight of your life.

Captain America, sitting on the floor, eating a bowl of Kellog Flakes, talking seriously into the phone. "I don't know what to do. I ran into her today. She blatantly told me tha..." he looks up and freezes midword. You could faintly hear the other person on the line calling for him, but couldn't care less. Staring straight ahead as you got your icecream and a spoon as quickly as you could manage. Fighting off the new wave of tears.

Gods, what were you going to do? Your depression was going to lose you your spot on the team? Was it really that bad? You went to every training session, you made it a point to listen to all direction, and worked extra hard every mission to prevent this from happening. What would you do if you lost this too?

Your thoughts tore violently through your brain, leaving you unable to pay attention to your surroundings anymore. You were just outside of your door when a calloused hand caught your arm. The forlorn wail you were holding just behind your teeth severed the still night air, pulling the ripcord on the tears fighting to be free. Your distress shredded any sense of coordination you had as you collapsed into Steve's rock-hard chest.

"(Y/N), (Y/N), please, let me explain."

"NO," you sobbed. "Let go of me, If you wanted to get rid of me, all you had to do was ask. I'm a big girl, I can take a little tough love."

That seemed to shock Steve. "What?"

You yanked your arm harshly from Steve's stunned grip. "That's what you were talking to whoever that was about, wasn't it? You finally realized that I am not worth it. That I don't belong and weren't sure how to break the news to me since I'm so depressed. Well lucky you, you don't have to worry about it anymore. I'll have my stuff packed and be out by the end of the week." You turn away as tears waterfall down your face.

Before you can get a decent grip on the doorknob, Steve's hand finds its place on top of yours. "No. I don't want you to leave." He states confidently. "It's quite the opposite actually. I like you. I was asking Clint how to handle my feelings since you clearly don't feel the same."

That stops you in your struggle for the doorknob. You look up at the imposing man beside you through bleary eyes. "What did you just say?"

"I like you, sweetheart. I was worried about you, and I didn't know what to do. So I called Clint. He seems to know the most about women."

You stood there, shocked for a second. "You like me."

"You make it really hard not to."

"What do you mean?"

"Sweetheart, you are a gorgeous, strong, independent, caring, hardworking woman. I'd be stupid not to have feelings for you."

"But I'm so grumpy, and when I'm not grumpy, I'm sad," you argue, scrunching your eyes together in confusion.

"Everyone gets sad. You are just less adept at hiding your feelings than some of us are. That's okay. I know you don't see it right now, but you haven't always been this way, and even if you stay this way, I know that you are worth every ounce of love and respect that I've given you."

You just stare at him. Trying to find any hint at the lie. He just stood there, staring right back into your eyes and, you couldn't help the tiny flutter of hope that settled deep in your tummy. A slight twitch, like the flick of a cat's tail as it basks in the sun. You missed her, and you knew that if Steve continues to look at you like that, you were going to be feeling more than just the flick of her tail.

"You quoting my therapist now too? Or is it just more of your friends?"

#captain america x reader #steve rodgers x reader #fanfic #angst with a happy ending #depression #me dealing with my depression #quarentine sucks #fins reads #fins' fic recs #fins' recs #fins recs fics #fanfiction #fic reblog

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curewhimsy · 5 years

Photo

As I was saying, I made one of my Neru/Haku stories into an original work and made the characters into OCs.

The tall one with red hair is Mildred, nicknamed Mila. She has Haku’s personality and is French and German. She is 16 years old. She is the tallest girl in her class. She lives with her single mother who is usually not home due to work. She is shy and has a reputation as a crybaby. Bea is her only friend. She has a plush cat named Marshmallow who eventually comes to life as her animal companion.

The short one with green hair is Beatrice, nicknamed Bea. She has Neru’s personality and is Thai and Filipino. She is 16 years old. She is the shortest girl in her class. She lives alone. She is lonely often and is misunderstood due to her temper. She has a reputation as a tough, scary girl. Mila is her only friend.

They have old lady names on purpose. Also a running gag is Mildred being mispronounced as “Mild Red”, and Beatrice as “Beat Rice”.

They both become witches and go on an adventure and meet lots of friends along the way! The plot is that witches usually have to be mean, in order for nobody to get close enough to them. This is how they keep their secret. When witches are found out, a curse is put on them. They have to train whoever found them out into a witch too, so they can break the curse.

However, Bea and Mila don’t want to be mean as witches, they want to become nice witches, and they want to use their magic to help people, albeit in secret.

The story starts here, under the cut.

Once upon a time there were two girls who couldn't be more different. Though instead of being apart, they were best friends. Each other was simply all they had.

Beatrice, nicknamed Bea, was the shortest girl in her class. She was the kind of person to feel one emotion, and destroy twenty different things with her fists just to let it out. Messy and unrefined, and quite emotional to boot. When she couldn't take it anymore, she would be overcome with rage. But underneath it all, was actually a nice girl who would never hurt an innocent being. She was misunderstood. She just couldn't help it.

Mildred, nicknamed Mila, was the tallest girl in her class. She was the kind of person to feel one emotion, and write twenty different sad poems just to let it out. Wishy-washy, sentimental to a fault, and quite moody as well. Such a forlorn being, always thinking negatively, seeing the worst in situations, and crying at the drop of a hat. Deep inside, Mila was a girl who wanted to be a hero. She was misunderstood. She just couldn't help it.

These two girls, born on the wrong side of the bed... even with all their foibles and hiccups... could they really save the universe?

------

At the ages of sixteen, the two lived in small houses located on opposite sides of the town from each other, facing opposite directions. The sun would rise in Bea’s window, and set in Mila’s window. None of that changed the fact that both of them were equally deep sleepers and were constantly late for class. Being in trouble together was a pastime for both of them. Mila was lazy and unmotivated, and Bea, well... she was a problem child.

"Mila, you're such a good kid." Bea said one day. "Why do you always let yourself get in trouble like me?"

"Well..." Mila answered, her voice quiet and hollow. "Mr. Kerry doesn't like us. He doesn't like me either, I guess..."

"Well... at least we have each other?" Bea said. Now that her fit of anger from before cooled down, she was in a depressive state. She sighed and put her knees to her chest.

"Bea, you know what?" Mila said, sitting down with her, "I... don't think you deserve to get in trouble."

"What do you mean?" Bea said, with a regretful sigh. "I'm nothing but trouble. I break things, get into fights... I'm not like you."

"Well... You're not a bad person. You're the nicest person I've ever met!" Mila said. "I admit at first, I thought you were scary. But then I got to know who you really are. You're a great friend and you're always there for me... Thank you."

Bea took in Mila’s words in disbelief. Those words...

"Is that for real?" Bea asked her friend. "Well... thanks. That was the nicest thing anyone has said to me. I never thought I deserved those words..."

"It's true." Mila said, bashfully. "Um... how about a hug?"

Bea gave a nod and then they hugged once before returning to their initial stiff, separate positions. The empty classroom was turning orange as the winter sun was setting early outside.

"Mila, you know..." Bea said, "I want to thank you too. Without you, well... I don't even know what I would be doing right now. You're the reason I can control my anger better."

Bea, who usually didn't say words like this, grew flustered and couldn't face Mila directly.

"So I don't want you to be sad, Mila. You're great and don't deserve to doubt yourself... I'm sorry I've never told you this before, but your friendship is important to me."

"Bea..." Mila, who was touchy-feely, took her best friend’s hand in hers and looked at her fondly.

"I'm a little embarrassed." Bea said. But she was smiling.

"How about we do something... fun?" Mila suggested. "Because when we're together... I don't feel as bad. It's strange..."

"Same with me." Bea said, quietly overjoyed to see a smile on Mila’s face. "You're my best friend. I guess I feel calm when I'm with you. Well, detention's almost over."

"Then let's go to the mall." Mila said, getting up and walking to the door.

"I love the mall!" Bea said, following. "The food court has the best food. Wanna grab a bite?"

"Sure." Mila reached out for Bea’s hand as they walked out the school. Bea wasn't used to holding hands with people, but she didn't mind doing it with Mila.

------

The good part about the town they lived in was that everything was in walking distance. Their houses, the school, the mall, the park, and many other places for a teenager to be. Even the beach, when it was warm enough! That way, they could wander free during the day without anyone having to drive or supervise them.

"This will be great! We can sing karaoke, buy trinkets for each other, and hang out!" Bea said. Mila was overjoyed to see her friend so excited about the day, and was eager to spend time with her as well.

When they got to the mall, Mila noticed that her cousin Sherry was working part-time at the food court.

Sherry went to the high school down the road from Mila and Bea’s. A cheerleader and a shining star in the chorus, she was apparently one of the most popular girls in the school. She was like an idol. And she was nice and cheerful, to top it all off.

She was nothing like Bea and Mila, who were at the bottom of the barrel in terms of popularity...

"Hey, it's Mila!" Sherry waved.

"Ah, Sherry!" Mila waved back. Bea waved as well.

"Bea, that's my cousin Sherry." Mila said. "She goes to a different school."

"Our special today is the popcorn shrimp!" Sherry chirped cheerfully.

"I'll get some then!" Mila said.

"Me too!" Bea said.

"How about you both sit next to my friend Io?" Sherry suggested. "I bet she would love to meet you."

Io was a girl who sat alone in the corner, doing something on her phone. She had on heavy make-up and was humming to herself.

"Um... hello." Mila shyly approached her and murmured shyly.

Io had her eyes closed. She opened one eye, saw Mila standing there, and turned her head coldly.

"Humph..." She said snobbishly, before going back to playing with her phone.

Bea got a bad feeling about this girl.

"So... um, how long have you known Sherry?" Mila politely tried to start a conversation as she meekly sat down next to her.

"None of your business." Io said, turning away.

“Oh... ok.” Mila said, beginning to tremble a little.

Bea’s initial hunch was confirmed. She felt anger drip inside of her like a slow trickle of lava.

“She was just asking you a question, Miss Attitude. Sheesh.” Bea said.

“Oh my gosh. Could you two dorks kindly get out of my sight? I don't associate with people like you." Io said, louder.

There was a bout of heavy silence. Bea was in too much disbelief to even respond.

"But I, um... I..." Mila spoke up, but couldn't utter another word until she started choking up with tears. She buried her face in her long sleeves. "Never mind... I’m sorry."

"Hey!" Bea stood up and furiously slammed her fists on the table at Io. "Just who do you think YOU are?"

"Ha, is the little gremlin is getting mad?" Io said condescendingly.

"Listen, you." Bea said, threatening to hold Io by the collar. "Shut your mouth or I'll make you regret ever saying those things!"

"So, what are you going to do? Tickle me?" Io scoffed.

Bea screamed in rage, hit Io’s face on impulse and pushed her as she was blinded by the shock.

The people in nearby seats, mostly teenagers, began to turn their shocked and amused faces as a fight began to unfold.

"No... please don't... don't fight..." Mila began to cry harder. She felt so helpless.

Suddenly, a security guard stepped in. In the midst of the commotion, nobody noticed at first. He scooped little Bea up as if she were a small cat and carried her away from the scene.

"Hey! Put me down! I need to get at her!" Bea yelled and squirmed, "Didn't you hear what she said? She made my friend cry! I'm not going to forgive her!!"

------

Bea got kicked out of the mall that day.

It was a cold day, so the friends sunk into their hoodies as their breath rose as white puffs into the air. The lively lights from the mall reached the two girls barely, as they sat in the dimness.

"I'm so sorry again, Mila." Bea sighed, as they sat on a bench away from the mall, in the cold dusk. "I did it again. If only I could've controlled my stupid temper, I wouldn't have dragged you into all this mess..."

Mila sighed, and then smiled a bit.

“But... I appreciated that you wanted to stand up for me." Mila said softly. "We all have flaws we need to get over. For example, I wish I didn't cry so easily..."

"I guess..." Bea said. "But I’m awful. Yet I couldn't stand the fact that she said those things. I mean... what a cold-hearted person. She doesn't even know us... It makes me so mad."

"She seemed to have a problem." Mila said. "So thank you, for caring about me."

"Still..." Bea said, "I should've just ignored her instead of getting all furious."

"I think you're okay. You stood up for me." Mila said. "So... what should we do now?"

"Go to your house I guess." Bea said. "If you don't mind. I like it there, it calms me down."

Bea lived on her own, and often got lonely. However, Mila’s single mother was at work most of the day, and sometimes only got home after Mila was asleep.

"Okay!” Mila said. They both got up off the splintery bench and began to walk down the path choked with forest, dry fallen leaves crunching under their feet.

The path to Mila’s house was a little bit unsettling in the dark. Especially when there were seldom leaves on the trees and the ghostly late-autumn chills loomed in the air.

"Bea, when did it get so creepy here?" Mila asked.

"I don't know..." Bea said, "But something just doesn't feel normal."

"Yeah." Mila said, putting her hand in Bea’s, so she could keep calm.

Neither of them couldn't explain it, but something about the aura just didn't feel normal. The full moon was unsettling, especially since Mila somewhat believed in superstitions. She couldn't help it.

A wolf call was heard in the distance. A bunch of dark flying creatures took off to the sky from a nearby branch. Bats? Or just birds?

That's when they saw it.

"Alright, Kuro." A voice said.

A pair of bright glowing eyes could be seen amongst the murky darkness.

"We should get back before it becomes pitch-black."

The faint silhouette then began to crouch down on the broom. Was this real?

Bea and Mila didn't know what to expect would happen next. Was the broom going to fly? But... that would be impossible!

But to their surprise, the figure on the broom lifted up into the air with a gust of wind that kicked up the leaves, and flew upwards towards the full moon.

It sent shivers down their spines and their mouths gaping open.

"M-Mila...?” Bea said.

"Bea, what... what just... happened?" Mila stammered.

"Apparently, witches are... real." Bea said. "Y-you saw it too, didn't you?"

"I did." Mila said in a small voice. "But... it can't be..."

"I'm creeped out now." Bea said, "Let's just get to your house now, Mila."

Both of them concluded that it was probably only someone testing out special effects. After all, it was only what would make sense.

------

The interior Mila’s house was dim and empty. Her hardworking single mother wouldn’t return home until the middle of the night.

Bea turned on the light in Mila’s room. It flickered for a few seconds before it shone steadily.

"Let's go on the computer?" Bea asked.

"Sure." Mila said.

In a few minutes, both were eating cheap packaged hamburgers while sitting in front of the computer desk, wrapped in blankets because the room was cold. It was oddly cozy in a way. Mila was going to go to her favorite website.

Mila’s virtual kitten Marshmallow popped up on the screen and greeted her. Mila petted Marshmallow with the cursor and got swept into the magical world on her screen.

Even though Marshmallow wasn't a real cat, she comforted Mila when she felt lonely.

Today, Mila got a special gift for logging in. The gift was special cookie mix. Of course, it was only virtual cookie mix. If Mila followed the directions, she would be able to decorate star-shaped cookies for Marshmallow.

Mila then gave Marshmallow a bath using galaxy bubble bath and played a game with her. When she was tired, Mila put the kitten to bed.

But all of a sudden, something popped up on the screen that neither of the girls had never seen before. A pitch black figure on the screen snatched Marshmallow up from her bed and began to fly away with the kitten in her grasp. Marshmallow was being taken away by a witch!

"Meow!" Marshmallow’s distressed cry came in through the speakers.

"Bea, what's that?!" Mila felt surprised. Bea was creeped out. It couldn't have been an actual part of the game. The witch looked much too realistic. In fact, it looked way too much like the silhouette that Mila and Bea just saw earlier. Could it be? Could it be the doings of a real witch?

The witch on the screen was dressed in a black tattered gown, with raven hair flowing from underneath her pointy hat. She began to fly into the distance, becoming smaller and smaller on the screen until she was just a pixel. Then she vanished, along with Marshmallow.

Mila checked her game again. Her adorable cat was nowhere to be found. Bea was too bewildered to speak.

Mila began to worry. Was her virtual pet gone? Marshmallow’s room was empty. Mila clicked all around, but none of the clicks did much of anything.

Mila bit her lip and shook, and Bea knew she was about to cry.

"Mila?" Bea said her name softly.

A tear slipped down the taller girl's face. She buried her face in her hands, sobbing.

"Mila..." Bea wrapped her arms around the shaking girl and consoled her the best way she could.

Most people would find it unexpected, for such a tall girl to be crying. But Bea understood Mila, and was frankly used to it. Bea knew how important Marshmallow was to Mila.

"Mila, Marshmallow isn't gone." Bea said. "She'll come back... don't give up hope."

However, Bea was hiding the doubt in her own words. She felt sympathy for Mila.

When Bea looked back at the desk, however, there was a note written in very intricate cursive. So intricate, she could barely make out the words.

"Mila, look." Bea was once again bewildered. A note came out of nowhere?

They read it together.

"If you want to save Marshmallow, head to the abandoned house on top of the hill by the school."

That was all it said. Mila turned the paper over in case it said any more, but that was everything.

"What the...?"

Bea and Mila’s curiosity got the best of them. The next thing they knew, they had put on their scarves and were headed out the door.

"Should we really be doing this?" Mila asked.

"You want to save Marshmallow, right?" Bea said, trying not to shiver.

"Yes, but... it could be a trap or something..." Mila trembled.

"I've got your back if anything happens." Bea said.

Mila appreciated Bea’s words, but deep inside she wanted to be the brave one for once.

As they left the neighborhood, it began to drizzle. A cool autumn wind kicked up.

The path to school looked different at night. For one thing, it seemed much longer.

When they got there, Mila looked at Bea one last time.

They have seen the abandoned house from afar many times, but being up close to it felt so different.

"Well, this is it." Bea said. She felt like she wanted to go back, but then she remembered how special Marshmallow was to Mila.

Mila looked at Bea and began to walk forward. She wanted to be brave.

Bea followed behind.

Opening the creaky wooden door, its hinges made a long creaking sound as it was slowly pushed open.

The interior smelled old. There was one lit candle in the corner, lighting up the entire place.

In the center of the room, a white, black, and orange calico kitten was tied up over a bubbling cauldron. Marshmallow?

Mila was terrified and reached for Bea’s hand. Bea’s hand began to squeeze Mila’s. She was trembling.

Even Bea got scared sometimes, Mila thought...

In the corner, was a familiar-looking girl.

"Well, you two showed up after all." She said.

"Who are you?" Bea shouted.

"You haven't forgotten me already, have you, gremlin?" She said condescendingly.

"Io..." Bea said, her pupils dilating. It was her. "What have you got against Mila!?"

"Your wimpy here friend had exactly what I needed to complete my curse. Once I lower your stupid cat in my mixture, it'll become an elixir strong enough to put the entire town in despair!"

What?

"I don't know what you're talking about." Bea said. "You're some kind of witch?"

"Give Marshmallow back..." Mila trembled.

The tension in the room rose to a crescendo.

“Meow!” The small multicolored cat hanging over the pot yowled in distress.

“Ha! You’re acting tough now?” Io said. “It’s no use, because I know you’re just a wimp.”

“I-I said, give her back!” Mila shouted louder than she ever thought she could, lunged towards the dark-haired girl and pushed her back into her wall of potions. A transparent bottle of bright pink fluid fell from the row of potions, and shattered on Io’s head. The liquid began to drip all around her.

“Oh no...” Io grumbled. “Why you little...”

Not another word could be uttered by Io before she started to shrink to the size of a doll.

Bea, who was terrified at first of what was happening, slowly began to laugh.

“Heh... not so menacing anymore, huh?” Bea said. “Now you have no choice but to give Marshmallow back!”

“I believe you’re mistaken.” Io said. “You’re the ones who have no choice now.”

Mila was already untying the rope that held Marshmallow over the cauldron, feeling the touch of her soft fur in her hands as she held onto her.

It was so surreal. Marshmallow was now a real cat. Mila knew it was Marshmallow because her meow sounded exactly the same. Her shiny green eyes looked at Mila as if she was meeting an old friend.

Once Mila tied Marshmallow free, the kitten began to purr and lick Mila’s face.

“What do you mean, we have no choice?” Bea said. She had a lot of questions to ask, but this one seemed to be the most urgent.

“You two unleashed a curse on me by accident.” Io said. “It was my strongest potion, and there’s no antidote for it. I’m too small to use magic now! So I’m stuck like this forever unless you two train to become witches too, and reverse the curse!”

Bea and Mila looked at each other.

“And what happens if we don’t become witches?” Bea said.

“You two will shrink to the size of molecules.” Io said. “You’ll be so small, life won’t be worth living!”

“Are you... serious?” Mila said.

“I’m being completely serious! The curse you put on me will backfire on YOU, and become ten times worse! Also it’s not like I want to tutor you to be witches either!”

“So if we become witches, we’ll have magic?” Mila asked.

“Of course, clueless!” Io said, “This is why I hate explaining these things to normal humans.”

“Sorry.” An apology slipped out of Mila’s mouth.

“Hm, if we become witches, we’ll be able to fly on brooms and use magic...” Bea said, intrigued by the idea.

“Yeah...” Mila said.

“Well, I guess there’s no choice anyway. We’re going to have to become witches if we don’t want to shrink.” Bea said. She was already very short, and didn’t want to become any shorter.

“Alright. I’ll let you keep Marshmallow as your familiar.” Io said to Mila. “Now you two, go into the attic and you’ll fin extra hats and magical robes. I guess you can use them.”

Mila and Bea did as they were told, and went into the old rusty attic of the creepy house.

———

TO BE CONTINUED

#Bea and mila #the adventures of Bea and mila #mila #bea #oc #ocs #whimisca #whimsica saga #art #my art #my writing #life of pastell

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deliciousscaloppine · 5 years

Text

Unclean Realm

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Little short story about Meng Yao becoming Nie Huaisang’s attendant in their childhood. Meng Yao returns from the battlefields Qinghe to fetch his master who has been stranded at Gusu during the conflict. The two of them travel incognito the countryside and hide from spies at a shrine. Huaisang expresses some jealousy, even though he is not sure where to direct it.

Huaisang thinks Meng Yao has become very handsome even if he lost some weight in the battlefields of Qinghe. His shoulders are fuller now, probably from all the enemies he killed. Meng Yao is a war hero, but he doesn't stride like one. He is not like the stone-faced soldiers who boast of their killings.

“Killings?” he asks quizzically. “A-Huaisang you think I saw a day in battle? I had to do all the boring things. Fetch water and kindling, set up the tents, even cook for the other soldiers.”

“So you didn't fight? Not even once?”

“Fight? They wouldn't even let me carry a sword.” he says with some complaint.

“I was so worried, A-Yao. I thought someone would cut you down, or strangle you in your sleep, or that you would drown in the mud of Qinghe.”

Huaisang is not disappointed. Of course if Meng Yao had become a dashing war hero that would have been nice. People would praise him, and gift him silk and maybe then his father would give him some position. And the two of them would be princes, attending Gusu together, and roaming towns in their fineries. He tells him that.

Meng Yao then becomes so depressed. “I don't think that would happen” he says. “And if I did some heroic act, I would probably die...And if I didn't what father would make a prince of me after knowing I was carrying water for the footsoldiers of Qinghe.”

Huaisang hears that with sadness.

“Do not give up hope. It's not like the Wen have been supressed. You just need to be a little older when they try us again and then certainly they will let you do battle. And you will kill many of them. This I know. Your sword form is perfect, they will make stories of you. I will even write you a poem.”

Meng Yao smiles like he thinks Huaisang is an idiot.

The room is so quiet and small, but thankfully it's dry. Huaisang never had to stay in a shrine before, but it's one last safe space before their iron fortress. What a journey it has been, how many leaking roofs have they slept under? They even slept outside once.

There might be about eight soldiers of the Nie who escort them in plain clothes, sometimes walking far behind them, and sometimes far in front, but it feels like in the whole world it's just Huaisang and Meng Yao alone together.

He has drank stale tea, he has eaten day old bread, and at night he has slept under the same quilt with Meng Yao. He couldn't be happier if he was at Qinghe wearing silk and drinking the finest wine. Pretending they are just common people has been the most exciting thing he has ever done.

“Pretending?” Meng Yao asks. “I am not pretending. I am common. In fact I am commoner than most. But don't worry, prince Huaisang, you are doing good. No one could tell you apart from your regular street corner dullard.”

At than Huaisang bulks and kicks Meng Yao, who laughs wildly. Meng Yao has such strange responses. People should cry when they are kicked.

“Is that what you told my brother that night when he laughed? That I am a dullard?” he asks.

“What night? I've never even spoken to Chifeng Zun.”

“Liar! You were with me, don't you remember? You were pouring wine for him. You had this silly look on your face and in the morning you told me a mark on the ceiling seemed like a kiss.”

Meng Yao looks at him so bewildered, as if all these things took place in a different lifetime.

“What are you even talking about?” Meng Yao asks even more innocently than before. “You certainly have a very vivid imagination.”

“You've never spoken to Nie Mingjue?” Huaisang asks and he knows he looks a little crazy.

“If you are talking about when I bowed to him-”

“Of course that's what I am talking about. He sent me away and then the two of you stayed up and you made him laugh. Were you talking about me?”

Meng Yao looks as if he is trying very hard to remember. What a lie, he could recall an upside letter discarded under a tray some three years ago. He surely could remember that night.

“I must have told him you were a gentle and kind boy” he finally says. “I think that's what I told him.”

“You were smiling because you thought it was funny he laughed at that.”

“If I was smiling, I was just being polite. Why do you think we made fun of you? Your brother is such a gentle, sensitive man. I do not think I saw him at ease all this time you were gone.”

“He is never at ease.”

“You do not know him, A-Huaisang, he worries so much. Your brother loves you so. I only wish I had a brother like that. Then I would not have had to face such a life, where I travel all the way from Qinghe to Gusu on foot, to bring his eminence back to his silken quilts and collection of porcelains. It's not as if I will be repaid for such things. His eminence is so stingy.”

“I am not stingy. I will gift you a silken robe. You can wear it when you bow to my brother.”

Meng Yao suddenly looks so forlorn as if there's no life left in him. He gets up, gathering their clothes and darts outside. He can hear him late into the night washing them under the moon.

Huaisang thinks the marks on the wooden ceiling look like ghosts. Ghosts wading through a turbulent river. Or maybe it's just his mind.

When Meng Yao returns to the room, the candle has gone out. He strips to his waist, and washes his torso. It was so hot outside that Huaisang can smell him. He doesn't smell like fragrant oils, he smells like skin which weirdly reminds him of paper. It's not a bad smell.

Huaisang is not awake exactly, so it's no wonder his eyes see things. He thinks he sees a mark on Meng Yao's sides. A little dent on his ribs, as if something once broke his bones.

Meng Yao washes and washes. He is fastidious like that. He won't be satisfied until he has purged every smell off him. Then he suddenly stops like he is too tired. He picks his hair up and lies next to him on the quilt. Only he doesn't give Huaisang his face. He only gives him his back, with his dented side catching the glow of the moonlight. Huaisang has to touch that, even if just to see that it is real.

If one could take some clay, he thinks, and fill it up. Then Meng Yao wouldn't have to be dented anymore like that. He thinks of a bronze pot, a pot someone hit hard with a hammer once. The thought makes him laugh. Then it reminds him the inclination of a rock that was chipped and dented by rain long ago. A small pebble could balance perfectly in it.

Meng Yao sighs and catches his hand.

“Why don't you go to sleep?” he asks.

#the untamed #nie huaisang #meng yao #the untamed fic #unclean realm fic #the qinghe boys

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throwaway-sinfulwriter · 5 years

Text

The Same - Chapter Four - Episodes and Visitations (Interlude) 2/2

Martin Whitly was sitting on the tiny, metal bed on the right of his room. One of his journals open in his lap. A thin pair of reading glasses perched on his nose, an elegant pencil in his hand. Writing.

He looked up as the door open and shut, and his mouth opened as he saw his son standing there.

"Malcolm." He said in surprise, closing the journal and setting it down on his bed with his pencil as he stood up. The tether of his ankle cuffs pulling "I.. I wasn't expecting you."

Malcolm hides a smirk, stepping forward. "Dr. Whitly," He says in greeting. "Yes, I was.. in the area, and I figured.. well, I am your only connection to the outside world."

Martin grins, sitting back down on the edge of his bed. "In the area?" He raises an eyebrow, giving his son a knowing glance. "Well, good lad, then. Visiting your father in the middle of your busy, busy detective life."

His son rolls his eyes and snorts a bit. It's adorable, in Martin's humble opinion. "Oh, so busy."

Malcolm's heart is giving him a run for his money, just standing in his Father's presence. There was no way he could make his look like anything but a domestic visit.

If Gil, or (god forbid) his mother ever found out, he would be killed for sure.

Maybe that was why he was so giddy. He liked the danger of it all.

There really was something wrong with him.

Martin takes his glasses off, folding them neatly next to him. "Well, come sit, my boy. You look so tired." He pats the space next to him, his face falling as he sees Malcolm sneer.

"I'm fine, really." However, Malcolm goes and sits in the fold out chair in the corner. Crossing his legs elegantly. Making Martin smile.

Malcolm sighs, and his father greedily takes in the sight of his chest rising and falling. "So.. how are they treating you in this place?" He asks coldly.

His boy cares so much about him, even now.

Martin gets a sick sense of glee from it, really, knowing that nothing had truly changed.

Malcolm could hide behind glares and sighs all he wanted, but he was still the babe that wrapped his tiny fingers around Martin's fingers and came to him crying about nightmares.

Oh, how he loved his boy so.

"Much better than the last place, I can assure you. Meals come at the same time every day, and a psychiatrist sees me once a week."

The profiler decides to not pay attention to the specifics, instead honing in on why his place of residence had changed.

"Yeah.. whatever happened to the prison, anyway? Why did you get moved?"

Here, Dr. Whitly had the decency to look a bit thrown off guard, bashful even. "Well, you see.." He started off, and Malcolm's heart dropped to his stomach like a stone.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing! Nothing too bad, really, Malcolm. Don't you expect better of me?" The doctor ran his fingertips through his thick beard, a nervous tick Malcolm noticed over the years.

"No. Not really." His father winced at his tundra tone. That one hurt. "Tell me what happened. Everything. You know I can tell when you're lying."

"Well.." His fingers itched at his face. Another nervous tick. Malcolm was glad that he had an excuse to stare at him.

"You stopped visiting after you told me you were joining the FBI.. I was quite crushed by this, you see." The truth was, right before his 17th birthday, Malcolm had stopped showing up.

This panicked Martin immensely. His son did end up coming back, but the visits were drastically different. Less frequent, and his son was cold. No longer responded to his carefully planned flirting.

And then the fiasco with FBI.. and then.. nothing. He had thrown quite the tantrum.

"I kept trying to call you, but the guards stopped letting me after.. err, four months or so. They said you weren't ever going to answer or come back, that I should stop trying. It would cost me less."

His father tried to laugh, but it was a bitter sound. Malcolm's eyes were sad as he stared at him.

"I had stopped eating. They had to have someone come in and force me to eat. There was a particular woman.. She reminded me of your mother, you see." Martin's hands twisted in his thin bed sheets.

"One day, she was so persistent to get me to eat. She started goading me about you, trying to get a reaction from me." Oh, no. This wasn't going to go well, Malcolm felt.

"I.. grabbed her wrist, and the plastic fork from the tray, and told her very firmly.. If she wasn't going to shut up about my son like that anytime soon, I would dissect her open for all to see with the fork."

Malcolm hissed air in through teeth, trying to ignore how his cheeks burned at his father's confession.

Dr. Whitley defended his honor.. wrongly, with murder, but still.. It did things to him. Made his stomach fluttery and his heart beat loudly in his ears.

"I was transferred here the next morning. Everyone's been right as rain ever since." Looking up from his lap, Martin noticed his son's condition.

A manic grin would have overtaken his face if Malcolm wasn't staring so keenly at him. The boy was flattered. By his father threatening a woman for him.

Oh, he could, would do so much more for him. If Malcolm asked, Martin would corner one of the nurses here, and cut their heart out.. place the still beating, bloody organ into his son's hands and snog him senseless.

But. He had to act oblivious.

"Malcolm.. are you upset with me?"

Malcolm blinks hard at his name, finding himself. He needs to respond. Without sounding desperate.

"What you did was wrong, Dr. Whitly. You should have never resorted to violence," Here, his father opened his mouth to retort. Malcolm went on. "Just threatening or not."

His father looked put off. Good.

"...Still." Dr. Whitly perked up like a puppy seeing a treat. "She had no right to talk about.. family matters. You did what you thought was right. And no one was hurt, so.."

He trails off.

His father looks like the cat who's caught the canary. That look does too many things to him, and he turns his gaze to the doctor's bookshelves, where he kept his journals.

"I thought.. I thought you wouldn't care I was gone."

When he looks back, Dr. Whitly looks forlorn. Depressed even. His voice is soft and loving when he speaks, though. It warms Malcolm to his core.

"You are my son, Malcolm. My sole pride and joy. Over all. My profession, my-my hobby. None of it amounts to you, my boy. You are everything to me."

Malcolm inhales unsteadily, standing abruptly. This was getting too close for comfort. His walls were crumbling, and if this went on he would break and his confession would fall from his lips.

"I- I have to go." He says, turning to leave. Stopping at the sound of Martin's tether, remembering himself.

"Here. This.. This is for you." A book is pressed into his hands. Peter Pan; or, the Boy Who Wouldn't Grow Up.

Martin looks up, beaming smile, ready to thank his son. It falls short when he sees he has already left, the guards shutting the door behind him.

Literally running away, his coat trailing behind him as it fluttered in the wind of the hallway.

Martin sits down on his bed, touching the cover of the novel fondly. He would read this book to Malcolm, front to back, over and over again. It was his favorite as a child.

He pushes his glasses back on, opening it and getting ready to read when he stopped.

A picture of young Malcolm, all dressed up in his Peter Pan costume, all smiles. Martin's heart swells, and he strokes the photo tenderly.

There are several other photos, all of Malcolm as an adult. His son is so very handsome. He must be very popular with men, Martin thinks. That simply mustn't do.

A growl rips out of his throat when he gets to the last photo, a picture of his son with an older, Filipino man. He recognizes him. It was the police officer he was planning to kill. The one Malcolm called, that night.

Martin cannot remember his first name.

The other man has an arm around his boy's shoulder, holding him close as they smile for the camera.

Why is he there? Why is he touching his son? Why does Malcolm look so goddamn happy?

Hands shaking, Martin fights the urge to rip the photo. He has no right, touching what is rightfully his.

That.. That scoundrel hadn't formed Malcolm from his very seed, he didn't deserve to have his dirty hands all over him!

Furious, he puts the photo to the side, though he wants to throw it to the ground. Anything with Malcolm in it was sacred to him, even if it featured that man.

He focuses on the photo of Malcolm himself, bringing it to his face and kissing the portrait tenderly.

His boy could be so mischievous, fraternizing with the enemy. But Martin Whitley loved him so much his heart would burst.

There would be hell to pay, once he got the truth out of his son.

#my fic #my writing #the same #prxdigal sxn #malcolm bright #malcolm whitly #martin whitly #malcolm/martin #i apologize to this fandom #back when i spelled whitly wrong 😔✌️#last interlude before ep 2

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awfully-sadistic · 6 years

Text

Wanted

As usual, taking some liberties with my interpretation of characters. I hope it’s okay even if some of the details are... bent... to fit what I am trying to convey.

It was a funny thing to be thrust into the spotlight. You’re so popular, you’re suddenly wanted everywhere.

No. Wait. Let me take that back; It’s honesty horrible.

I am Spider-Noir. Peter Parker to those who know my identity which, let me tell you, has been an awful lot of people lately. That part doesn’t bother me. People I know and care for knowing who I am? Those very same people that understand the responsibility I have to shoulder? They’re great for the support.

What worries me are the avid fans I seem to be accumulating. But that’s not a new thing in New Senzannini. Superheroes and yes, even villains, have their own... fanbase.

I don’t understand it and I don’t think I ever will. I’m just regular ol’ Peter Parker. I grew up during the Great Depression and true to its name, everything about it was as depressing. That time period is a dark place and I cannot understand why anyone seems to glorify anything from that era and before that. But there’s probably a reason.

I recently saw a movie depicting myself and it was almost surreal. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed it. It was light-hearted, funny, and even had a nice message.

But me? I don’t get nice messages. The last “message” I got was my Uncle Ben, his mutilated body almost unrecognizable to me, tortured to death just for standing up for what he believed in.

I was almost a joke. Rubik cubes? Egg creams? Nicholas Cage? I don’t even sound like that.

Rubik cubes were something new. Never seen a nifty little toy like that before because, hello, it’s the Great Depression. What else am I going to do for entertainment? And egg creams are occasionally good just like how Dot Dreadful seems to enjoy her chocolate milk. She doesn’t drink it all the time, right? It’s a nice treat. I also enjoy a nice treat. And if I’m not careful, Spider-Noir is going to be synonymous with these things just like Wade Wilson and chimichangas, whatever those are. People take that way too far, Gwen has said the phenomenon was a meme. I was a meme.

Do you know what I like to do in my spare time? I like to head down to Felicia Hardy’s place and have myself a whiskey so I can get through another day. From there, I study my notes, my next plan of action. I like to find how I can nail the bastards that killed my uncle. But taking down crooks who work in an even more crooked government is hard work. Almost impossible.

I don’t think people really know me. I am not just “punching nazis” in my time. I was angry. I still am. People believe I see in black and white but I see in color. It’s like Noir has to be black and white but let me tell you that the world is not that simple.

However, despite not being in that era anymore, I’ve seen a lot of stuff happen. And a lot of stuff has happened to me. It’s hard to work out that anger, this... sadness. Ironically, this depression.

Wanted? This stardom has thrust me into something I don’t want. It’s put me in an awkward light where the only one I do want is slowly wanting nothing to do with me.

It’s horrible. It’s a curse. I didn’t ask for this but I’m dealing with it in the one way I know how: terribly.

“Damn, I don’t see you in here often, Pete. What have you done?”

Spider-Noir looked up, confused. He had been here for a couple of hours and Logan had been here right alongside with him. It was the curse of being popular. “Here” was the infamous Corner--which was a room itself since Dot couldn’t literally put faces to corners; there were only four of them and there were a lot of people who belonged in this room.

But it wasn’t Noir that had been addressed. The other Peter Parker took a seat next to himself, leaning heavily against his brethren with a forlorn sigh.

“I didn’t do anything,” the other Peter spoke up. The 616 version. He continued, “Wade did and once Dot finds that out, she’s going to come get me.”

Logan scoffed, “You sound like a princess waiting to be rescued.”

“Yeah, well, if it’s Dot, I don’t mind. Besides, who do you think is going to suffer when Wade’s put into this room?”

Logan dropped his cigar on himself and released a string of curses as the hot ash splattered on the front of his shirt. It didn’t burn him. The prospect of being stuck in a room with Wade never bode well for anyone. Peter grinned, looking quite pleased with himself before turning his attention to Noir.

“Hey Twin, are you still in here for being popular?”

“Yep.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll die down eventually. I had to do my own stint in here when my movies popped up. Or whenever comic Peter decided to do something stupid--and he did a lot of stupid things. Did you know comic Peter has a sister?”

“Did you know I had an uncle?”

Peter looked horrified before he replied, “You have a sick sense of humor.”

“I get it from you.”

The both of them looked at each other and then laughed. Logan groaned from the background. If there was anything worse than one Peter, it was two who thought they were funny.

“Why don’t you two get a room?”

“Technically, we’re already in one.” Peter quipped.

“And we outnumber you.” Noir tacked on.

Logan’s claws came out with a SNIKT and both Peters quieted down immediately. After a while of silence and because neither Peters could stay quiet for too long, Noir spoke up.

“So, what did that red guy do?”

Peter’s expression grew deadpanned. Both Peter and Noir looked alike; messy brown hair, hazel eyes, all the way down to the bone structure. Except 616 Peter was a little scruffy and Noir wore round, circular glasses which made him look even nerdier than usual. And they looked nothing like the adaptation in the Spider-Verse movie meaning Peter’s nose wasn’t broken and Noir wasn’t as Nicholas Cage-y. That was just another liberty, obviously. Noir was just a moodier, more reckless version of 616 Peter but just as sarcastic and lacked the self-esteem. So, as one can imagine, they got along... very well. So it was like looking in a mirror for Noir as he watched himself twist expressions while trying to recall the incident.

“Johnny thinks I stood him up and I didn’t get the chance to explain that it was Wade who prevented me from meeting him. I mean, I didn’t push to explain myself. But I wouldn’t leave Johnny standing in front of the Haus for three hours without a good reason! But Dot found out because word spread that he had been just standing there and comic Peter had been doing a greeeeeat job on making us look like a jackass. So, I guess she went to ask and got that story out of him. It certainly made me look bad.”

“I’m surprised Storm waited that long.” Noir said.

“You know, me too.” Peter grumbled, looking awfully guilty. He felt incredibly bad for having Johnny wait that long. That was his best friend after all and Johnny did so much for him. “Before I knew it, Dot was texting me to go wait in the Corner. Knowing what that was all about, I just went because I figured it would be better if it came out that Wade was the real reason I didn’t show up. Then Dot will feel really bad for me and...” Peter trailed off and it went unsaid that Dot would have showered him with affection for the misunderstanding. It wasn’t Dot’s fault that this was a thing, either. Sometimes scenarios played out like this so others would cheat their way to earning brownie points or even a chance to be treated especially well by her. She was wanted by every damn person in the Haus so one would have to play dirty to be treated special.

Peter’s plan was perhaps a little harebrained apparent by the sad shake of the Wolverine’s head in the background, having to listen to this. Noir, however, was 100% behind this plan.

“You should act super dejected, too.”

“Ohhh, twin! That’s a good one.”

“I bet she goes crazy with the puppy dog look.”

“Yeah, that’s also great. Keep it coming...” Peter said while jotting down the suggestions in his notepad. Once he saw that Cap had one, all of a sudden Peter Parker did, too. And it helped a lot when he wrote down jokes he thought of and usually quipped when he was alone and no one else was listening. His notepad even had a title: For a Rainy Day.

“Don’t want to guilt trip her that much, though. She’ll start to get suspicious if you lay it on thick.” Noir continued, looking over Peter’s notebook. It shouldn’t be said that Noir even had his own. But he usually cited “private eye business” despite Jessica Jones stating she never had one for hers.

“How about you two knuckleheads write in how stupid this all sounds.”

Peter stopped writing and the both of them eerily turned their heads towards Logan. He didn’t want to admit it but even that put him off a little.

“...What?” he asked, gruffly.

“Sorry we’re not all born with your amazing rough exterior, commanding presence, and stunted emotional depth. Some of us have to work harder than others.” Peter pointed out with his pen. Noir was nodding in support.

Logan rolled his eyes and went back to scrolling through his phone from his stretched out position in a hammock before he really was tempted to slice and dice everyone’s favorite quippy nerd. He’d just tone out the two dorks in the corner while he let this happen to him.

Peter looked over at Noir at this point, asking, “When are you going to use those puppy eyes on Dot? You’ve been in this corner since ...well, since everyone started to pit the two of us together.”

Noir shrugged; he wanted it to seem nonchalant since he wasn’t too bothered by the fact that he was in the Corner. It was peaceful than the alternative. But the fact that he was in the Corner because Dot’s image of him was slowly souring seemingly killed him inside. His brows furrowed in the middle, scrunching up the Parker expression with a contemplative look. “I thought I’d let her come to terms with it in her own way. If I try to force her, I think she’ll end up hating me even more.”

Peter tsk’ed, holding up a finger as he slung his other arm around his twin. “Lemme tell you something, uh, me. God, this is so weird when I’m not talking to my younger self...”

“It’s even weird you have a younger self.”

“I mean, there’s a lot of us so maybe it’s not that weird after all?”

“You have a point, me.”

“Thanks, me. You’re as smart as you are handsome.”

“If you two don’t fucking knock it off, I’m going to knock the both of ya heads off and place ‘em on the other’s body.”

Both Peters ignored Logan and Peter B. continued his train of thought. “If you play the nice guy role here, you’re really going to come in last.” Noir looked skeptical before Peter added, “I’m serious! I was nice when I came here. But now look at me,” he exclaims while holding up his notebook. “There are tons of schemes in here. Schemes!”

“You’re... still nice, Pete.” Noir told himself.

“...I don’t know about that, I think I have a little bit of a bad boy streak in me.” Peter said sulkily.

Logan scoffed from his spot. “Noir’s more edgy than you are.”

Noir looked happy about that. Peter, not so much.

“Neither are compliments,” Logan tacked on like an anvil that fell on Noir’s head. “You’re both still fuckin’ nerds.”

“Ouch,” Noir started.

“Our feelings.” Peter finished.

Logan finally shifted in his hammock, placing his long, sturdy legs over the side. His large upper-half sat crouched and he remained there, perched, while he stared over both Spider-Men. “For fuck’s sake.” he finally muttered like a disappointed parent. “You don’t need schemes. You’re a goddamn hero.”

“Wade plays dirty, Lo.”

“Don’t I know it. Just cut through him a couple of times,” Logan said, giving advice that both Peters would not have taken. It was only Wolverine advice Logan would ever use. “That’ll shut him up.”

“...That’s...” Noir struggled to find the right words.

“Pretty mean.” Peter supplied.

“I thought you were a bad boy, Pete.”

“...I can be,” he argued. “When I feel like it.”

“Sure.” Logan said in a way that made Peter bristle.

He sat up a little straighter and his tone pitched a slight whine. “I can be! Logan. Look at me. Hey, Logan.”

Logan was in the middle of lighting another cigar when he finally looked at Peter. Then, he pointed his cigar at the webslinger. “If you have to beg me to prove your point, you’re probably not cut out for this bad boy role.”

Noir gave Peter a pat on the back. “That’s alright, me. I can be edgy enough for the both of us.” There was a slight pause before Noir asked, “That’s a good thing, right? Edgy? That means what I think it means?”

“Yes.” / “No.” Peter and Logan said at the same time. The two merely stared at each other for a while before Peter spoke up again, giving Noir another nod. “Yes, yes it does. Logan doesn’t want to admit that he gave you a compliment because he’s out of touch with his feelings.”

Logan grunted. “Watch it, bub.”

“Thanks, Logan.”

“Whatever.” The Wolverine figured it was easier to go back to ignoring the two instead of trying to keep up with their strange, delusional conversation. If Peter and Noir wanted to believe they were as bad as they thought, he’d let them. It’d be amusing when they’d come to find out otherwise.

“You should try a stronger hand with her,” Peter said, bringing the conversation back to its heart. “You know as well as I do that she likes to be forced, sometimes.” Peter looked mildly embarrassed about that tidbit and a finger came up to bashfully scratch at the rough stubble covering his jawline. “Even I admit to getting a little forceful because... it’s really hard sharing her attention. I’ve had her webbed to the bed once because she was going out to see Otto... and you know about my webbing. She didn’t get out of it for hours. She was understandably not happy about that but... she didn’t see Otto, did she?”

Noir’s gaze widened from behind round glasses. “Maybe I ought to write that down, too.”

Peter laughed, “...Believe me, you’ll just act on it.”

“It’s okay to do these things?”

Peter looked conflicted. He obviously knew right from wrong and from the way he’s staunchly lived his life before, this was pretty hard to answer because then he’d end up sounding like a hypocrite. “...I mean, no... it’s not right but... it’s Dot. Rhyme or reason just doesn’t... apply here. I’ve found myself doing things I’ve never thought I’d do. Change my mind on things I never thought I’d budge on. It’s... different here.”

There was a moment of silence as the two Peters thought this over. Both so alike yet raised in different times and environments and backgrounds. If Peter could start toeing the line between his beliefs just for Dot, Noir thought he would also find himself doing the same. She certainly does make one question a lot. He never put much stock in changing out of love, or rather, he never understood that sentiment. How did the saying even go? Love changes people? Yeah. That. He was certain Peter would have felt the same before Dot. But now? Noir’s sure Peter has done some strange things out of desperation in her name and he couldn’t blame him. He also felt tempted to cross that line if only to step out of this Corner business, grab Dot by the shoulders and shake her, make her understand. Make her love him. Make her want him.

He shook his head free of these thoughts, for now. Instead, he replied with, “I think I understand.”

Peter gave Noir a supportive pat on the back. “Good. This has been a nice talk, huh?”

Noir gave Peter a genuine smile, “Yeah.”

The door opened and everyone’s eyes shifted at the movement. Dot slowly poked her head inside, looking a little sheepish. “Um...” she gazed at the faces, surprised to actually see anyone besides Peter in the room. “...Wait, what are you guys doing in here? I only sent Peter to the Corner today...”

Noir spoke up with a clearing of his throat, sounding like the usual Peter awkwardness. “I’m staying in the Corner until my popularity winds down.” He didn’t want to chance anything tipping the delicate balance where he might find himself thrown outside the Haus along with the riff raff at the front gates, still trying to get inside.

Dot looked taken aback. Slowly, the rest of her came into view as she started to walk in and settled the door closed behind her with a soft click.

“Noir...” she floundered for a bit because while there was the very real disturbance of his popularity spiraling out of hand, she knew he really had no hand in that. A major factor of the whole problem was seeing other people compare both Noir and Peter and yet, tear down Peter while hoisting Noir on a pedestal. It hurt to see that especially since she loved Peter in all of his incarnations, but she couldn’t help having a strong reaction to it. But she didn’t hate Noir. She felt bad, looking a little perturbed at the initiative he had shown by putting himself in the corner. “Love,” she put delicately with the emphasis on the term of endearment. She noted the way Noir seemed to sit up straighter at it. “I’m not punishing you over anything. I’m... I may be a little vocal about how everyone’s treating you and Peter but... that doesn’t mean I’m upset with you. It was never meant to be taken seriously, I’m sorry--”

“No, don’t do that.” Noir stood up and seemingly crossed the expanse of the Corner in one long stride. It took Dot wholly off-guard that she gently bumped into the door. Even Peter looked surprised, looking at the spot where Noir had been to where he was now.

“Do you have super spider speed, too, or what?” he asked, perplexed. Much like most of his quips, it went unheard. “Because that’s not fair.”

“Don’t... don’t do that.” Noir had all of Dot’s attention standing in her personal space, hesitant at first but finally taking her hands in his and giving them a squeeze that matched the almost pleading tone in his voice.

Dot swallowed dryly, having to crane her head back to get a better look at him. For some reason, Noir was taller than Peter? He was at least a head taller than his “twin” and boasted broader shoulders and a more thicker physique that she had assumed was mostly the trench coat. But he didn’t have one on. Noir dressed like he was still in the 1930′s when he went without his trench coat and Spider-costume. Right now, he was in a white button-up dress shirt, a vest, and slacks. It certainly catered to that nerdy aspect all Peter Parkers were known for. And Peter seemingly came in all shapes and sizes--if Peter Porker wasn’t proof enough. This was just the first time Dot had the thought force itself to the forefront of her mind.

“D-Do what?” Dot asked. She tried to seem unfazed by the close proximity but this was still Peter. It seemed in any incarnation, he was able to fluster her (even) sometimes.

“Apologize,” Noir frowned, unaware of the affect he had on her. This meant he still stood in her space, still held onto her hand afraid that she might pull it away at any second; his grip tightened that he hadn’t noticed. But Dot had. “It’s not your fault. I understand. I get upset hearing about people pit Peter and myself against each other, too.”

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Peter asked from the background.

“If I could, I would have all of them stop. The last thing I want is Peter to get a bad reputation from all this.”

“Eh, I’m used to it.”

“So, I understand your feelings. I have them, too. That’s why I’m putting myself in the Corner so you don’t have to. So you can have the time you need to heal from all this booshwash and when you can decide when it’s okay to move on.”

“Whoa, your age is showing, Noir.”

Despite Peter’s commentary, Dot stared up at Noir, her heart squeezing at the desperate look on his face. She saw Peter but it was like she was seeing Noir for the first time. Like the shatter of glass, the illusion she had of him, the impression that had been circulating around nearly every social media outlet cracked. That wasn’t Noir. Noir was here, with her. Noir was her good boy, just like Peter was.

She smiled, no, beamed, at him gently pulling one of her hands away from his hands just so she can stretch up and rest it on his cheek. She noticed the way he responded immediately, closing his eyes and resting against the palm of her hand. “Thank you for explaining this to me, sweetheart. Now that I know what you’re doing, I want to reassure you that you don’t have to. I think... this just took me by surprise. Everyone always has something to say about Peter, I should be used to it--”

“Honestly, me too.”

Dot stopped talking and finally gave Peter her attention. “Honey. I swear to god.” but she was laughing. She hadn’t missed his commentary but she couldn’t NOT acknowledge it anymore. She returned her attention to Noir who had his eyes open again, searching Dot’s face as if trying to guess what she was going to say next. She picked up her smile and continued.

“I should be used to it and sometimes I even anticipate it but since I love Peter--since I love all of you guys--so much, I don’t know how to handle it ...better, sometimes. I ignore it, I push it away. I don’t want to have anything to do with it until I feel it’s safe for me to come back and pick up the pieces after everyone’s finished... abusing it. But what I should have been doing is protecting it.”

Noir had a soft expression on his face. There was no mistaking that he was his own person who had his own experiences and hardships even if he shared some of Peter’s features. It was actually tough to imagine this Noir the same as the one that has been circulating around.

“No one blames you for coping how you must. I’m sure it’s hard to have to be subjected to people’s opinions about us. It’s rough listening to people say Peter is a bad person or isn’t as good as the other Spider-people when... most of us share the same traits with him. It’s kind of insulting to us at the same time.”

“I know, love.” Dot reassured. “It’s nice that you guys stick together.” If she hadn’t seen both Noir and Peter hanging out as much as they did and be as supportive to each other versus what everyone says about the two, things probably would have turned out differently. Luckily, she wasn’t at that point where she had to push anyone away.

“But you don’t have to go to the Corner to ...punish yourself. Honestly, this place is for things people have done wrong, things that have already happened by your own hand. I put popular people in here more like a joke--” she paused as she realized something again. “Yeah, um, Logan. Why are you in here?”

Everyone shifted their gaze to Logan now. He had been trying to look as if he wasn’t paying attention. But now that the attention was on him, it was obvious he had been.

“Wait, he’s not supposed to be in here?” Peter asked. Dot shook her head and once again, there was another lapse of silence.

“What? Can’t I just be in here?” he asked with a gruff tone reminiscent of the gruff exterior he always boasted.

Dot perked an eyebrow.

“...I might have done something.”

Dot sighed heavily. Peter and Noir all of a sudden looked really interested. The big bad Wolverine was admitting he did something wrong? AND voluntarily checked himself into the Corner? Wooooow. Peter couldn’t keep the gleeful look off his face.

“What’d you do, Logan?” Peter asked, cozying up to the grouchy looking mutant. There was no regard for his safety as if Logan won’t push him off the hammock at any second.

“Nunya damn business.”

“Logan...” Dot warned using her disappointed Mom tone. She had dropped her hand but part of her refused to let go of Noir’s. Either for herself or Noir, she didn’t quite know but she was content on allowing herself to think she was doing it for him. To reassure him. But truthfully, it was reassuring to her as well.

“Babe.”

“Nah uh, don’t babe me. What did you do?”

Logan mumbled something as he looked away. Things that no one in the room caught... maybe perhaps Peter because he started to laugh, immediately.

“Oh! Man! I bet he looks ridiculous!”

“What?” Dot asked with a squinting gaze. “What did he say?”

Peter was too busy in semi-hysterics to even try to answer. Noir didn’t hear either but he might not have heard anything even if Logan had spoken clearly. Dot was willingly holding onto his hand and he was content to focus on that much. Logan, however, finally turned around to speak up.

“...I said I yanked Scott’s glasses off his head. He’s wanderin’ ‘round the Haus without ‘em on.”

Dot took a sharp intake of breath knowing she was going to have to deal with that. Helping Scott wasn’t the problem... not that there was a problem with Scott. The fact that as soon as he realized it was her, she was going to have a very separate “problem” on her hands. He was... awfully possessive and obsessively so. As soon as she snapped those red visors on his face again, he was going to be glued to her side. For now, she focused on the reason why Logan decided to act out.

“...Why?”

“Why not?”

“Golden,” Peter grinned, wiping his eyes. “Oh man. I wish I could see that.”

“Well, you might get your wish.” Dot sighed out. “Where are they, Logan?”

“Where are what? His glasses?”

“...Yes, love. His glasses.”

“...I’unno. Flung ‘em somewhere.”

Dot rubbed a hand over her face. She had an inkling it wasn’t going to be that easy as just handing them back to Scott. She knew Logan must have done something petty about it. She turned to Peter and Noir. “I was actually coming in to release you, Peter. Wade confessed. But now, can you help me find his glasses? Logan’s not leaving the Corner for the rest of the night.”

“Can I at least have my beer?”

“I don’t know Logan, can you?” Dot snapped back without much of a thought. She instantly regretted it as soon as she saw the darkening look on his face. “Y-You’re in trouble. You shouldn’t get anything.”

“Yeah, I came in here as a courtesy.”

Peter gasped, “You’re trying to earn brownie points with her too! What was all that “you’re a hero” business earlier then?!”

This time Logan did shove Peter off the hammock with one hand pushed at his face. Peter hit the ground all limbs and flailing with a semi-startled yelp. Dot didn’t even want to ask. Instead, she turned up to Noir.

“I guess it’s just going to be us then.”

Noir smiled and actually looked at ease for the first time... in a very long time, actually. “That’s perfectly fine. We can treat it like a case and retrace Logan’s steps.”

Dot looked interested in that. “Yeah? That sounds fun! I’m going to go borrow Jessica’s notebook--”

“Wait, she has a notebook?” Noir asked.

Dot nodded, wide-eyed. “Uh huh! She just got one and it’s nice and big.”

Both Noir and Peter looked offended, “She got a bigger notebook than us?!” they both said, weirding out Logan and making Dot double-take at the synchronicity.

“Can you guys not do that again?” Logan grumbled, laying back down in his hammock again. He put his arm over his face and figured he might as well catch up on some sleep. Peter was scrambling up to his feet, coming to stand besides both himself and Dot.

“We have to get bigger notebooks, too.”

Noir nodded in agreement but Dot looked skeptical.

“Why?”

“Because, sweetheart, it’s... just... it’s important.”

Again, Dot looked skeptical. “...because Jessica has a bigger notebook?”

Noir replied honestly, “Yes.”

Peter, however, replied differently.

“That’s definitely not the reason--Noir, you can’t just--You have to... Man, we have to work on that. You have to play it cool.”

Dot poked Peter in the chest. “I know for a fact you can’t keep anything cool. Remember that time Johnny told you a secret and what was the first thing you did?”

“...Told you?”

“Uh huh. Mr. Play-It-Cool.”

“But there’s no secrets between us,” Peter grinned, pressing his cheek against Dot’s and snaking an arm around her small, tiny tucked in waist. Dot was laughing as his gesture soon turned into affectionate nuzzles and small, butterfly kisses. Dot turned away because they tickled, still smiling, before her gaze landed on Noir.

“S-Stop taking notes!”

“...But Peter’s really cool right now.”

Peter straightened, his tone incredulous. “Really?!”

Dot rolled her eyes and the gesture seemed to match Logan’s groan in the background. She couldn’t help but give a little humorous laugh at the scene.

“Okay, Logan. When we find the glasses, you can come out.” She couldn’t help the good mood she found herself in and figured she might as well continue making it a good day. She watched as the larger man slowly started to stir again until he faced her and the Peters.

“In that case, I’ll help you find ‘em.”

“Then it looks like we’re on the case.” Noir stated.

“Yeah. Don’t say that.” Logan grunted as he finally stood up and straightened to his full height. His huge, bulky body was amplified by the imposing height he boasted as he stood towering over the three. He might be a Wolverine but he honestly reflected the scary big bad wolf tropes in fairy tales; he was all bark and bite. Dot found herself shrinking back and had the inward thought that Logan would have to put himself in the Corner considering she couldn’t quite commit to enforcing the act herself.

She also couldn’t tell Logan that he still had to serve out his time in the Corner for what he did to Scott so she “allowed” him to help. As the four of them piled out of the Corner, the door clicked shut behind them. For as much as she said she put people in the Corner and the fact that there was even a room designated for this, she really was glad when there wasn’t anyone in it.

It gave her a lot of comfort to know the room was almost always empty and that her loved ones were here, quite literally beside her.

#{{ original drabbles: dot's feb prompts

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