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goosewriting · 1 year

Text

Purpose

summary: after being shot by Pryde, Hux wakes up in an unfamiliar place.

relationship: General Hux x GN reader

warnings: mention of injury, a lil angsty, fluff, fix-it fic

word count: 1.5k

A/N: the doc i wrote this in is literally called “hux survives, i have spoken”, and i think that sums it up really well lol ((also i know that's not hux in the gif but when i saw it i literally went 😳 so i had to use it))

prompt used: All of your failures, your accomplishments, your success, your emotions, your body. Every bit of you. I accept and love them all. (source, by @/incorrectprompts)

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

“Get me the Supreme Leader.”

That’s the last thing Hux heard after being launched back several metres from the blaster impact.

“Tell him we found our spy,” Allegiant General Pryde finished in a self-satisfactory tone, giving the blaster back to the trooper next to him.

— — —

Hux wakes up with a gasp.

The sudden intake of air burns through his lungs, like he hadn’t breathed in years. He can tell he’s lying on a cushioned surface, but is still too weak to sit up and check his surroundings.

Blinking away the pain and dryness in his eyes, they adapt to the light in the room. The ceiling above him is wooden, as are the walls. Hux looks to his right, where he spots a door on the far wall. Closer to him there’s several beeping and blinking control panels, with multiple cables and tubes emerging from the machinery.

Slowly turning his head to the left, he sees a big desk with papers and different medical instruments. A med droid stands in front of it with its back to him, too busy doing whatever med droids do while the patient is unconscious.

Hux concludes that he's probably in a cabin, given how rustic the construction looks. And now that the grogginess melted away, he can feel the waves of pain starting to crash onto him.

His chest hurts.

His legs hurt. Especially his left thigh.

He’s pretty sure his pride hurts too, even though he can’t exactly recall what happened and how he got here.

He dares a look at himself, looking down on his body, and only now does he realise that he’s all bandaged up, and bacta tubing surrounds his torso and leg.

The redhead tries sitting up on the bed but fails, quickly slumping back down with a pained cry. This catches the attention of the droid, who turns around, leaving some instruments it was holding on the table.

“You’re awake,” the droid notes. “I will let the Master know.”

“Master? Who?” Hux manages to croak out; his throat is incredibly dry.

The droid ignores his question and exits the room. Not a minute later, you appear through the door and hurriedly make your way to him. Next to the bed you stop for a second, looking at him with big eyes, as if to make sure it’s really him.

“By the Maker,” you finally let out with a sigh of relief. “You’re finally awake.”

A sob shakes your body as you sit down on the edge of the bed next to him. Your body gives out and you lean forward to rest your forehead on his shoulder as gently as you can while the tears come rolling down freely over your cheeks. Hux wants to hold you, comfort you, but his body is not responding. He can only helplessly watch as your hands fist the blanket around him, trying to hold on to something.

Slowly the fog in his brain starts lifting, revealing the memory of what happened on Ren’s ship. With it also comes the realisation that you had somehow managed to save him.

Hux wants to say something, but your cries build a knot in his throat and a pain in his chest that aren’t the result of his injuries. He presses a soft kiss to the side of your head while he thinks back to how you had met all those years ago. How you had slowly and unknowingly picked away at his walls, how you had started falling for each other. How you had listened to each of his rants, laughed at his jokes. How you had comforted him when his life's work, Starkiller base, was blown to bits. How you had always been at his side, anchoring him.

And now here he was again, only still breathing because you saved him.

Finally getting your cries under control, you look up at your lover, holding his face with both your hands, smoothing over his cheekbones with your thumbs. Hux bites back a pained whimper as he reaches up to wipe away the tears from your cheeks.

“I thought I lost you,” you whisper, kissing his forehead.

“What happened?” Hux asks after a moment.

“Pryde shot you after figuring out you let the rebels escape,” you retell.

Hux looks down at his chest. Through the partially transparent bacta tubing he can make out a scar on his chest where there surely should have been a hole. His brows furrow.

“How long was I out?” he questions, bringing his gaze back to you.

“26 rotations,” you answer. “Not that I've been keeping count or anything.”

“Twenty– wha– How did you–” Hux is so stunned he can’t form a proper sentence.

You give him a bittersweet smile as you retell how it all went down. You were on Ren’s Destroyer when he got shot. Two troopers carried his body from the bridge. You intercepted them and had them carry Hux into the med bay at gunpoint, where you ended up stunning them. After hooking up the General to the machines and essentially kidnapping one of the med droids, you got into an escape pod and made it to a small moon in the Bryx system, where you happened to know someone. They let you stay in this little cabin since they were currently off-world.

Hux listens intently, trying to wrap his head around the fact you essentially deserted the First Order just to save him. Meanwhile you unhook him from some of the machines except for the IV fluids.

“Are you hungry? Let me get you something to eat and drink,” you offer, turning away from the bed. But his hand shoots up to hold your arm and pull you back to sit.

“Just- just stay for a moment,” Hux pleads in a quiet voice, his face contorting in pain for a second from his action.

“Okay,” you say, taking his hand in yours, and sit back down on the bed.

For a moment you just sit there in silence, taking in each other’s presence.

“So, what happened?” Hux asks after a while.

“I… I just told you?” you retort, bringing your hand to his forehead to see if he has a fever. “Are you feeling dizzy or something?”

“No,” he says with a huff as he shakes his head and you remove your hand. “I mean what happened with the First Order, the rebels… with Ren?”

“Oh Armitage,” you say with an amused tone, but the smile doesn't reach your eyes. “You barely made it out alive and you're still obsessed with him?”

Hux scoffs.

“I’m not obsessed,” he grumbles.

“Well, whatever the case, you don't have to worry about him anymore,” you respond, averting your eyes to look somewhere beyond the walls. “His whole Destroyer went down. Just like the First Order. The resistance won.” You look back at him. “Ren is gone.”

Hux doesn’t answer, his face unreadable.

“Ren lost,” you remark, raising a brow at his lack of response. This was what he had been wanting after all. “You won.”

“Hm. This isn't exactly how I was picturing it,” Hux remarks.

“I know,” you say softly, caressing his cheek. “But the thing is, it's all over now. I'm pretty sure we’re the sole survivors from that ship. Everyone will think we’re dead. We get a fresh start, Armitage. A clean slate.”

Hux huffs, deep in thought, and slightly incredulous. You can feel the tears stinging at the back of your eyes again.

“I’m just glad you’re still alive,” you say, unable to stop your voice from cracking. “All I want is to be by your side. So you stay put, rest, and heal up, okay?” The tears start rolling freely again. “We’ll be fine.”

Hux’s gaze softens infinitely, his usual stern and cold glare now a warm, inviting ocean. He swallows hard.

“Thank you for not giving up on me,” he whispers, leaning into your hand which still cups his face. “You’ve saved me more times than I can count.” His eyes leave yours to look up at the ceiling. “I don't think I deserve this. You should have left me behind.”

You turn his face to you so he meets your eyes again.

“Please don’t say that. I would never give up on you,” you assure him. “All of your failures, your accomplishments, your success, your emotions, your body. Every bit of you. I accept and love them all.”

You lean in to place the softest of kisses on his now chapped lips, then kiss the corner of his mouth, his nose, his cheek. You don’t pull back, whispering into his skin.

“It might feel like you have no purpose left right now but–”

“It’s you,” he interrupts you. “You are my purpose.”

You let out a shuddering breath, kissing him again, and he melts into you.

“You can decide what's next,” he says after you pull back. You smile down at him, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead.

“We'll decide together.”

~~~~~

🐥 taglist: [more info in my pinned post!] @dybynyght

#goose feathers #hux x reader #general hux x reader #armitage hux x reader #sw hux x reader #star wars x reader

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bloodbruise · 1 month

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hiii! firstly, i just wanna say that i admire your writing and the way you use imagery to cast certain moods for different stories. i think in your past life you were some great poet, like homer lol! i am a baby to tumblr, but ive been wondering about posting my own takes on certain topics. i wanted to ask how you started writing and posting regul(us)arly, without getting embarrassed or discouraged!

(ps-thank u for being u🩵)

this is !!! so incredibly kind of you wow 🥺🥺 i’m floored. to even be mentioned in the same breath as a poet, let alone homer, is an honor. though if we're measuring by a 'homer scale,' i'd place my writing abilities closer to homer simpson than the poet.

if i am being completely honest, i really started posting because i was searching for a queer community. i grew up in a major city and still have a great one there, but i moved to a smaller city to go to a really STEM oriented, cutthroat school—where all connections are really just for career advancement. i basically looked back and realized that i had spent the last four years with my head shoved so far up a book that i was really suffering without that community. i also knew i was gonna have to start writing my personal statement for med school soon. writing is my weakest skill, and the only writing i'd been doing was scientific IRMaD papers for school, so i wanted to force myself to practice. what better way than through something i already loved and engaged with consistently: fanfiction.

when I first started posting my writing, it was definitely intimidating. i had moments when i overthought, got embarrassed, and quickly deleted posts. but i learned that it is just part of the process of finding your space in fandom. you’re inevitably going to stumble a bit, you’re gonna hit some zero note posts, and yeah, it can be discouraging. i think its really naive when people say “oh, just post for yourself, who cares if you get no interactions with it.” because honestly, if we were ONLY writing for ourselves, we'd just keep everything in our google docs, right? a big part of the joy in fanfiction is connecting with the community.

but you also cant let that hold you back. what always keeps me going is the enjoyment i get from crafting stories—writing things that i wanted to read or the characters i wanted to see (i love horror and medicine. i literally threw them together to make my evan. and i would be nothing without my unsettling, ethically questionable, freak medical malpractitioner). so it is so, so important to stay true to your own vision. if you see barty with neon purple hair, write him that way. if your remus is a pretty pretty princess, embrace it. they’re your stories. and if anyone tells you otherwise, they can fuck themselves.

so i would say keep posting and interacting with other people, your favorite authors, friends, followers. as you continue, your confidence will grow, and your audience will find you. be patient with yourself and push through the doubts. it's all about finding your voice and enjoying the process!

please feel free to tag/send me when you do start sharing your writing! i would be happy to read it :)) and i also wanted to thank YOU for being you because you are so very kind and you put a huge smile on my face ❤️❤️❤️

#obv fic to personal statement writing is not directly transferable but being able to convey emotion and craft an effective narrative is #mail

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sleepless-in-southlands · 5 months

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Up My Sleeve (Off My Shoulders)

Ao3

Summary: Bdubs is a good right-hand. A great one, even. Some days, that feels more like a condemnation than a compliment. Content: AU- Mob Bosses, bittersweet/hopeful ending, emotional hurt; emotional repression, past/past relationships, bdubs having a Time and scar being a good boss-friend Pairings: Platonic Scar and Bdubs Note: Part five of Bloody Fruits au

Sometimes, Bdubs got tired of being good at his job.

Not that that made any sense, not when being good at his job kept him alive. Make no mistake, he wasn’t looking to get shot anytime soon.

He took pride in his work, too. If anything was running smoothly in the Glass Empire, it was always, in some part, because of him. Business papers, merchandise, clearly defined borders, exterminated moles- you name it, Bdubs had a hand in it. Of course he did. He was Scar’s right-hand man. That was his job, to do a little bit of everything.

And, see, that’s where the issue was. Bdubs did everything. Sometimes he got tired of it- no, sometimes he got sick of it.

It wasn’t Scar’s fault. He entrusted Bdubs to do a lot, sure, but that’s how it worked. Bdubs was the only one Scar could truly trust, so he was the one who had the most to do. Bdubs knew that. Bdubs was fine with that.

Compared to some bosses, Scar was a soft-touch anyways. Most of them wouldn’t require a right-hand to take a break unless they were on their deathbed. With Scar, Bdubs got sent home if he pulled too many all-nighters in a row.

Which meant it wasn’t a problem with the Glass Empire either. Even if it was, he wouldn’t want to work in any of the other organizations. He couldn’t imagine being a subordinate for Mumbo and Grian- because if Grian was just a right-hand like him, Bdubs was the mayor- where it was a miracle they noticed anyone outside of each other (and now Scar, apparently), the Guild was a puppet-show, the Armory was too aggressive, and the Seventy-Sevens-

Well. They were run by Doc.

Call him biased, but the Glass Empire was the only good group in the whole sludge of a town. So that wasn’t the issue.

Really, there wasn’t any issue, not one that was anyone else’s fault. Some days Bdubs sat at his desk and looked down at all the work he had to do, the papers on several different subjects, the notes about what he had to do outside of the office, the ever ticking clock that stood monument as a constant reminder of the mayoral election’s steady approach, and he wanted to scream. Not because it was too hard. Not because it was too much. Not because of anything that made any sense.

And because he was good at his job, he never screams. He buckles down and does his work and goes home when he must and ignores the way it feels wrong that he never tries to reach for a gun instead of the remote when he’s there.

All of which would be perfectly fine if it weren’t for one of the previously established facts: Scar’s a soft-touch. Not in business, but always with Bdubs. He’s close where the previous had been distant, and that means he notices things Bdubs doesn’t want noticed.

Which is why when he startled Bdubs out of his work with a seemingly random, “Is something wrong?”, that was a problem. Because something was wrong, and Bdubs didn’t want to talk about it.

“Our shipment’s been delayed again.” Bdubs answered in a way that wasn’t a lie so much as it was him ignoring the actual question. “I’ll have to call the manufacturer.”

Scar waved, dismissive. “Not that, that’s just business. I meant with you.”

Bdubs raised an eyebrow. “Even if it’s ‘just business’, I still have to fix it.”

“Aside from that, then. I doubt you’re that upset over making a phone call.”

“I’m not upset.”

If Bdubs had said that to anyone else, they would have had no choice but to accept it. He wasn’t tensed up, distracted, working slowly. At a glance or a stare, he seemed completely normal.

Unless the one looking was Scar, who had started to frown.

“Your clock’s smudged.” He pointed out, and Bdubs took a moment to look at it even though he knew exactly to what Scar was referring. A tiny glint of grease against the pocket watch’s face, accidentally left behind by someone’s clumsy touch. It had been there for hours, each hand taking a turn spinning underneath it. He would’ve cleaned it as soon as it happened if it weren’t for the fact he left its cloth in his car, and he didn’t trust himself to fetch it without also getting behind the wheel and driving for as long as his tank would let him.

“It happens.” Bdubs replied, trying to force nonchalance into his tone as he turned back to his papers. “I’ll take care of it once I’m done with this.”

A minute passed in silence, but to Bdubs it felt like an hour. He knew that Scar was still watching him. He also knew that Scar didn’t believe him.

“Bdubs, look at me.”

Bdubs obeyed despite the fact he would, at that exact moment, rather gouge his eyes out than meet Scar’s. He didn’t want to talk about this, but Scar was concerned and his gaze was searching and there was no escaping the head of the Glass Empire, not in his offices, not as his right-hand man.

“I’ve seen you, quite literally, drop everything to clean that watch.” Scar spoke slowly, as if waiting for Bdubs to disagree with him. Bdubs wasn’t quite desperate enough to make that mistake again. “So I’ll ask again: is something wrong?”

He wasn’t really asking. They both knew that.

“I already told you. Nothing is.”

He wasn’t really answering. They both knew that.

Scar sighed. Leaned heavier on his cane. Bdubs wasn’t sure why he had left his office, if he had needed to get something or talk to Bdubs for other reasons. Like usual, they were the only two left in the office after sunset. “Give me the manufacturer's number.”

“What?”

“You said that was the only thing wrong.” Scar held out his free hand. “I can make the call, I’ve got time.”

Bdubs knew what Scar was trying to do. He wasn’t being subtle. He wanted Bdubs to give him a reason to end the conversation. A simple one, even. All Bdubs had to do was give him the phone number and he would let the matter drop with no further argument. The worst he would do would be forcing Bdubs to take the next day off. They wouldn’t have to talk about it.

So, obviously, he refused.

“I can handle it.” Bdubs said with a half-shrug. “It’s just annoying.”

“It won’t be annoying for me.” Scar’s hand was still extended.

“It’s fine, Scar.”

“Not if it’s bothering you.”

“It’s not bothering me.” Bdubs’s voice was sounding dangerously close to clipped.

“I’d still like to take care of it for you.”

“You can’t.”

“Why not?” Scar said in faint disbelief that sounded more curious than angry.

Bdubs didn’t answer. He was realizing too late that he had been backed into a corner.

“Why not, Bdubs?” Scar repeated when Bdubs didn’t say anything for too long of a moment, and Bdubs was out of options.

“Because it’s not your job!” Bdubs snapped.

He regretted the outburst in the same second it happened, ducking his head and once again looking away from Scar before he could see his reaction.

“I- sorry. I’m sorry.” Bdubs fumbled out, hating how quiet his words sounded in comparison to the near-shout they followed.

More silence. Bdubs didn’t turn his head when it was broken by the sound of footsteps and cane taps. Scar leaving, not acknowledging any of this had happened- it would be for the best.

Except then there was the sound of rolling wheels, a chair being pulled away from a desk, and Bdubs looked up to find Scar still next to him, now sitting, cane put to the side. As Bdubs watched, he reached across his desk to carefully pull Bdubs’s pen from his grip, the groves of its design showing white against red as Bdubs uncurled his fist and let Scar place the pen down. He had forgotten he had been holding it.

“Bdubs,” Scar said, quietly, and Bdubs might’ve felt worse about being treated like a cornered animal if it weren’t for the fact he had been acting a lot like one, “talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“...Nothing. It’s nothing.” Bdubs admitted in unhappy defeat. When Scar didn’t understand, frown remaining, he tacked on, “What’s wrong is that nothing’s wrong.”

“I see.” Scar didn’t sound as if he truly did, but Bdubs appreciated that he accepted it, that he wasn’t going to try and argue whether or not that made any sense.

It didn’t, but Bdubs already knew that.

“It’s- how long do you think I’ve been doing this sort of thing? How long do you think I’ve been in this business?” He wasn’t sure what suddenly possessed him to try and explain it. It wasn’t something he knew how to put to words, wasn’t something he had ever wanted to tell someone else about. It was his non-problem problem that he kept silently tucked to his chest, never a concern to anyone but himself.

But Scar had noticed. Scar had made it his concern. It was the first time Bdubs had been asked about it, and maybe the fear that it would be his only chance to answer was what pushed him clumsily into attempting to define it.

“Well, you’ve been with the Glass Empire for quite a while. And you’ve always seemed to know a lot about the business, even as a lackey.” Scar answered thoughtfully. “I think you’ve been in this business for a very long time.”

“I have. And I’m good at what I do?” Bdubs phrased it like a question, for the sake of asking it, but he didn’t actually need to hear Scar’s answer. He already knew it.

“You are.”

“Right. And I- I do everything that needs to be done, and I handle everything that needs to be handled, and as long as I’m fine everything goes fine, right?”

Whatever worry Bdubs had managed to ever so slightly assuage by trying to explain his problem had returned to Scar’s expression as he continued with his self-evident questions. “What’re you getting at, Bdubs?”

“I know this life. I know this job. I’m good at this job, when I’m here, when I’m working. But when I go home…” Bdubs fumbled, not sure how to put into words what he was driving at, “I just go home.”

Somehow, Scar managed to pick up on what he was trying to say. “You can’t always be making shady deals and hiding evidence. Work has a way of following you home, sure, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have a life outside of the life.”

“Should I?”

“I’m not sure that’s a question either of us is really equipped to answer.” Scar half-joked. “But I think it’s better that you do. It eats you alive if you don’t.”

“But… it’s not something everyone can do, is it?” Bdubs glanced back to his pocket watch and the grease stain he had left smudged on its face for far longer than he ever had, trying not to think about it even as he watched its hands spin. “Is there a reason I can do it when other people can’t?”

Scar didn’t respond immediately, and out of the corner of his eye, Bdubs saw he had the same look on his face he got when he was sizing up customers and competitors alike. It was a harmless expression on the surface, idle thoughtfulness, but Bdubs knew his boss well enough to know it was more than that. In business meetings, Scar would follow it with a disarming smile and a throwaway comment that casually informed the other party that he knew exactly where to hit them hardest.

But in the backrooms of his empire, with only his right-hand man across from him, Scar didn’t bother with the formalities of friendly nonchalance.

“I’m sure you’re aware of this already, but the Glass Empire’s policy on inner- and outer- organization relationships is fairly flexible.”

Bdubs huffed a laugh. “Painfully.”

The corner of Scar’s mouth quirked up, amused. “I’m just saying, if there’s someone else… you can tell me.”

Bdubs hesitated. He knew Scar meant it, that he wasn’t trying to trap Bdubs into admitting something that he’d then turn around and kill him for. But things said couldn’t be nearly as easily unsaid, and Bdubs had built a new life in the Glass Empire out of a sole desire to never have to speak it- or think it- again.

The latter had never worked out though, and for once Bdubs was tired of keeping his mouth shut.

“It was in the past. Before I was with the Empire.”

“Oh?” Scar’s tone was that of mere polite curiosity, nothing more. Bdubs appreciated him pretending to be only mildly interested in the first bit of personal information regarding life before the Empire Bdubs had ever volunteered to share.

“I was still in Heremita, though. With a different group.” Bdubs glanced at Scar. “I was their right-hand too.”

It only took a few seconds for Scar to shift from contemplation to realization, and Bdubs could follow his thought process without him saying a word. The South hadn’t arrived in Heremita until after Bdubs was with the Glass Empire, not that they would be a real consideration either way. And the right-hands of the Armory and Gorgeous Guild were public knowledge. Which left only one option.

“You were Doc’s shadow right-hand.” Scar didn’t phrase it like a question.

“More than that.” Bdubs said before he could overthink it, watching as Scar’s eyes widened in surprise before turning his gaze back towards his pocket watch.

“...Doc does have a reputation for being a workaholic.” Scar offered slowly, when the silence had begun to stretch.

Bdubs let out a humourless laugh. “That’s an understatement.” He said bitterly. After a long minute with no follow-up response from Scar, Bdubs slumped down slightly in his chair, replacing the bitterness with exhaustion. “The business was always his priority. It didn’t matter where he was, what he was doing- he was always thinking about work.”

The minute hand on Bdubs’s watch ticked over a space, lining up right beneath the smudge. Bdubs dropped his eyes to the surface of his desk. “He never came home, y’know? Even when he was at home, he was still working. It was all he cared about.”

“Is that why you left?” Scar asked, quietly.

Bdubs nodded, moreso to the ground than Scar. “I wrote him a note, so he’d know I hadn’t been kidnapped or killed, but it was… professional. A resignation, nothing else. Meant to leave Heremita as a whole, but I needed funds, so I ran some odd jobs as far away from Doc’s territory as I could get.”

“The Glass Empire.”

“One thing led to another… and you know the rest.” Bdubs finally raised his head again, propping it up on one of his hands with a sigh. “I should have known better. In this line of work, not putting business first can get you killed. I can’t be that surprised he made his choices like he did.”

“There’s a difference between putting work first and putting everything else last.”

“Yeah, well.” Bdubs shrugged. “Not everyone gets that.”

Scar was silent, and for a foolish moment, Bdubs assumed that he was going to leave the matter there, an awkward not-so-secret secret that they knew but would never talk about, like Dolos or the way that Scar was clearly in love with both heads of the South (not that Bdubs hadn’t been trying to broach the latter subject, but Scar had been persistent in stonewalling his attempts). Outside of sympathetic platitudes, there wasn’t much else to be said.

But the analytic expression was back on Scar’s face, and while Bdubs knew it better than most, he had managed to forget just how perceptive Scar could be right up until the moment where he said something no one else in the room had even thought.

“Is that why you hate Mumbo and Grian?” Scar was kind enough to twist the observation into a question, softening the blow, but it still hit hard enough that Bdubs couldn’t keep meeting his eyes.

Bdubs had often found, with his line of work, you only ever had two choices when it came to personal issues that had the potential to interfere with business: you either took care of them, or you ignored them. He couldn’t make things work with the Seventy-Sevens, so he wrote a note and left. He didn’t like the thought of Dolos rotting in one piece, so he cut him into three and buried him on the territory of every Heremita gang (outside of the Empire) that had existed at the time. He got sick of seeing Scar turn down partnerships with the South on the same basis that middle schoolers used to pick teams in PE, so he bullied him into staying away until he was willing to make a decision.

He watched the way Mumbo never went anywhere without Grian at his side, both professional to a fault despite how clear it was that their only real priorities were the other, not their business, and Bdubs ignored how his chest twisted painfully at the sight.

It wasn’t fair to say Bdubs hated them, and he knew that Scar knew that. He had nothing against them or the South as a whole. What few interactions he had directly had with them had been civil and respectful. The only issue Bdubs truly had with them was just how close they were.

Professionally, the only reason Bdubs had any problem with that was because it made them unpredictable. Bdubs would never forget the look in Mumbo's eyes the day Grian had been kidnapped, the way he had threatened to ruin the organization responsible so vehemently Bdubs knew he wasn't exaggerating in the slightest. The goals of the South were always at risk of making a complete one eighty, subject to the mood and well-being of its boss and right-hand, and as such Bdubs always had to be on his guard with them.

As to any personal feelings, nothing good could come of hating Mumbo for doing what Doc never managed, of hating Grian for having more than Bdubs had even wanted, so he didn't. Nothing else to it.

(It was possible that that was different when Bdubs was home, far from work and professionalism, on the rare nights where it was late enough for him to entertain such thoughts. Late nights where he would do his best to convince himself he hated them, briefly giving into the hope that if he pretended it was true long enough, it would be. But Bdubs wasn't home right then, and the night wasn't dark enough.)

Bdubs managed a half-smile, shaking his head slightly as he tried for a light, joking tone despite the fact that he still couldn’t meet Scar’s eyes. “I don't hate Mumbo and Grian, I hate the way you interact with them.”

Scar pressed a hand to his chest, feigning offense. The deflection was so obvious Bdubs might as well have outright declared he was changing the topic, but Scar went along with it, accepting that they had gone as far into the conversation as Bdubs was willing to go. “I’m hurt. All my interactions with them are the epitome of professionalism, what about that could be so awful?”

“What about Grian cupping the back of your neck was ‘the epitome of professionalism?’”

“He was helping me keep pressure on my injuries.”

“I didn’t realize you had cut your lips as well.”

“He never-” Scar paused to clear his throat. “Your recollection of events seems to be somewhat faulty, Bdubs.”

“Something about the situation’s faulty.” Bdubs countered, though he didn’t try to push much past that. Any other time, he wouldn’t hesitate, but Scar was doing him a favour by letting Bdubs turn the tables on him. The least Bdubs could do was return it, if only for the night.

Scar chuckled, a tad awkwardly, before taking the opening to steer them away from the topic of the South (and his relationships within it). “Speaking of faulty, I think we've both been up past our bedtimes.”

“Smooth transition, Scar.” Bdubs quipped even as he started to put away his papers. Bdubs had learned fairly quickly that when Scar decided to wrap up for the day/evening, nothing short of a knife to his throat could make him change his mind on the matter. Bdubs wasn’t sure he was quite ready to face down his car and the thought of sticking the pedal to the floor, but arguing was futile.“Give me five minutes and I’ll be ready to go.”

Scar waved him off long before he had the chance to so much as get up, however. “I won’t make you play chauffeur tonight. Plus, part of the reason I came out here in the first place was to give you this.”

Looking up from his paperwork shuffling, Bdubs expected to find another file or written inquiry he’d tuck away for the night and get to first thing in the morning. It was clear at a glance that his guess had been wrong, the small bundle of folded fabric and hemmed edges held between Scar’s fingers more familiar to Bdubs than any legal form or dark alley.

Bdubs took the proffered cleaning cloth from Scar, flipping it over in his hands to confirm what he had immediately realized- it was a watch cleaning cloth. Specifically, it was Bdubs’s watch cleaning cloth, the exact same one he usually had on hand, other than the fact that it was clean and unused and new. Which meant Scar hadn’t broken into his car to get it.

“I thought it’d be a good idea to have some extras.” Scar explained casually, as if there wasn’t anything noteworthy about it. “In case you lost yours, or something happened to it.”

“Some?”

Scar shrugged. “They were cheaper in bulk.”

For a moment, Bdubs couldn’t help but stare at Scar, who was continuing to act nonchalant. To anyone else, the gesture would likely be seen as small and somewhat meaningless. Nice, but little else.

Except it was identical to Bdubs’s cloth, which meant Scar had, at some point, gone through the effort of identifying the brand and make of a small square of fabric that was rarely in sight. He had bought multiple of it, hiding the purposeful act behind a white lie about cost (as if that was truly a concern for the Glass Empire), and had done so without ever mentioning it to Bdubs until he gave him one. Scar had done all that because he had realized it was something important to Bdubs, so much so that when he noticed Bdubs had neglected to clean his pocket watch for the better part of the day, he left his office to ask Bdubs what was wrong and present him with the cloth, with no indication from Bdubs that he was, in any sense, doing poorly.

It was almost too much. Bdubs didn’t know how to respond.

So, of course, Scar didn’t make him. “You can take the bed in the office, I’m going to check if we still have that spare sleeping bag in the storeroom. Your appreciation is implied.” Scar added to the end, voice light as though metaphorically brushing aside Bdubs’s stunned silence.

Bdubs remained quiet as Scar stood up, watching as Scar picked up his cane and pushed his chair back where he had gotten it from. He couldn’t even find the words to protest Scar’s declaration- the floor was worse on Scar’s back then it was on his, like hell he’d take the bed (though that, at least, was a point Bdubs could make later through light shoving and pushing)- letting Scar start walking off without saying anything.

Scar didn’t make it very far before he stopped, however, turning back towards Bdubs. He didn’t say anything immediately, hesitating as though he was considering his next move very carefully.

“For the record?” Scar’s tone was still light, but there was an undercurrent of something serious to it, something meaningful. His expression had softened as well, gentle in a way Bdubs couldn’t put an exact name to. “If you suddenly left the Empire, and your only goodbye was a resignation letter… I would come after you.”

Coming from any other Heremita boss, the sentiment would be a threat. A way of saying that Bdubs may have been able to do that to Doc, but he better not try it with them, that he better not abandon his job and their organization without a damned good reason personally presented to them.

But it wasn’t any other boss. It was Scar, who was looking at Bdubs with more feeling than had been contained in his words.

From Scar, it was a reassurance.

Scar resumed his trek to the storeroom, leaving Bdubs with the plausible deniability of privacy. A purposeful and gracious move, given the situation had officially become too much for Bdubs.

Because Bdubs was good at his job. He made sure that the cracks never showed- not for the Glass Empire, not for himself- because a seen weakness was an exploitable weakness, and it was better to never show anything rather than flashing an achilles heel at the wrong person. Scar knew that- he was good at his job too.

Which is why he walked away, giving Bdubs the space to stare at his desk, not really seeing it, as he idly thumbed a single tear out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t scream, didn’t sob, didn’t make a sound, just took full advantage of Scar’s discretion and let himself have five minutes where he wasn’t anything more than a heartbroken sucker.

“Bdubs, did you move the sleeping bag?” Scar shouted, presumably from the storeroom, giving Bdubs something else to focus on before he could sink too far into his own moping. He let out a breath, taking a moment to collect himself and straighten up as though Scar was present in the room with him.

“Don’t worry about it, Scar, just take the bed.”

“I’m not taking it from you!”

“It’s not my bed, you can’t take it from me.”

“Where’s the sleeping bag?”

“You’re not sleeping on the floor!”

“It’s my floor! I can sleep on it if I want!”

Despite himself, Bdubs laughed. He had, as a matter of fact, moved the sleeping bag, but he wasn’t going to be telling Scar that. Instead, he pushed himself to his feet, not wanting to shout his every rationale for why Scar would be taking the bed, actually.

He stopped by the edge of his desk as he went, picking up his pocket watch. The spot of grease glinted in the dim lights, but its presence didn’t mock Bdubs as it had all day. The cloth Scar had gifted him was still in his hand, and with a single swipe across the clock’s face, the smudge was dealt with, leaving the watch as clean and clear as it nearly always was.

Bdubs looked at it for a long minute before carefully placing it back on his desk, folding the cleaning cloth to put beside it. The watch kept ticking. The cloth didn’t vanish.

With a nod to himself, Bdubs continued towards the storeroom, where he could hear the sounds of Scar attempting (and failing) to find the hidden sleeping bag. There was a tightness in his chest, wrapped harshly around his ribs and heavy over his shoulders, that felt loosened in a way Bdubs had no intention of thinking very deeply on while at work. He had other things to focus on- papers to put away, an argument to win, a boss to subtly thank. Things that needed- and would get- his full attention.

After all, Bdubs was very good at his job.

#hermitcraft #bdubs #goodtimeswithscar #m.y funky words #bloody fruits au #everyone say sorry to bdubs for me for this one y'all #this got . meaner to him than intended :'')#im not posting it all here but my end notes on the ao3 fic are. long #pls read them i put a lot of brainrot into them /j

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ochakourarakah · 1 year

Text

araw-araw

chapter two: stay.

masterlist.

As soon as you turn in your last test paper for the school year -for your entire high school life, now that you thought about it - you actually stand up to stretch.

The weight of academics had trickled off your back at a steady pace throughout your years at Shiratorizawa, but now it was as if an entire world was plucked off your shoulders in one fell swoop.

With the weight now gone, you immediately felt lighter. Taller, even.

You turn to Semi to find him stretching as well as the bell rang.

Your last exam had been chemistry and you were pleased to see him satisfied with what he turned in.

As soon as your teacher walked out with test papers in hand, Semi dashed over to you.

“Doc, did I ever tell you you’re a lifesaver?”

“Plenty of times already,” you laugh, fixing your things back into your bag.

“Well get ready to hear it over and over again for the next few days.'' He sits on the narrow end of your desk. “I’m definitely treating you as thanks. Wanna get some crepes later with Tsumi and Fumi?”

“Not later. Toshi and I have a date,” The statement is punctuated by you zipping your bag closed.

His brows shoot up. “So you’re taking our advice? You’re gonna talk to him?”

You shake your head. “He was the one who wanted to have a date. I wouldn’t want to ruin the mood by dropping something like that,”

And especially not the night before the interview that could define his entire career after graduating.

If Semi was disappointed with the revelation, he didn’t show it. Instead he hums. “How about tomorrow, then?”

“I’m going to-”

“The library,” he says in unison with you, making you scowl.

Semi only grins as you roll your eyes.

“But I’ll be there early and I’m not gonna stay for too long.” All you had to do was return some of the reference books you borrowed for now. Getting ahead on the course syllabi you managed to get a copy of could wait some other time.

“I’ll meet you there then we could head off to lunch then?” Semi offers. “Maybe some guys from the volleyball club might come along, too?”

You cock your head to the side. “But Toshi would still be in Tokyo by then.”

“Yeah, we know.” Semi says, getting off your desk. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t hang out with you. You’re our friend, too, you know.”

The sentiment makes you smile in spite of yourself. “Okay,”

A familiar bass voice calls your name, making you turn to one of the doors of your classroom where Ushijima stood.

“Well that’s my cue,” Semi says, heading back to his desk and slinging on his backpack. He approaches his captain with an easy manner. “You have a safe trip later, Wakatoshi,” Then he turns back to you, “You two have fun, yeah?”

You nod back before waving him goodbye.

“Do you need to stop by your dorm first?” Toshi asks, taking your bag from your hands.

“Just to drop off my books,”

He hums. “Would it be alright for me to drop you off at your dorm so you can get dressed and I can get my things?”

“Sure,” And as you fall into step beside him you give him a little nudge. “How did you do, by the way?”

He furrowed his brows. “We won't get results until next week.”

A chuckle escapes your lips. “No, I mean, how were you as you took the exams? Are you confident in your answers?”

“Ah,” he nods. “I believe I did alright. Calculus was difficult as usual but I think I’ll be alright. And English was easier than expected thanks to your help.” He turns to you with a smile. “How about you?”

“Calc definitely was a nightmare,” The still-fresh memory of the last problem on the paper had already seared itself into the back of your mind. You make a mental note to look it over later in your free time.

“Though I’m more worried about how I did in Biology and Chemistry.” You admit sheepishly.

“But those are your best subjects.”

“Well, I guess, but those are the subjects that get looked over when applying for pre-med.”

“I don’t think you have to worry,”

“Hm?”

“You’re brilliant. If anyone can gain top marks in those subjects, it's you.”

The compliment, in all the nonchalance of Toshi’s delivery, makes you blush all the way down to your toes.

When you approach your dorm building, you peck Toshi on the cheek before yanking your bag from his grasp and rushing up to your room.

Being Friday night, school protocols were more lax, extending curfew for students who opt to stay in the dorms over the weekend,

This gave you plenty of time to catch up with Natsumi before she left for home and for you to get ready for your date.

Though nothing could quite prepare you for what awaited you outside.

Seeing Toshi in anything that wasn’t his school uniform or athletic wear was an unusual sight to you but you welcome it all the same as you approach him in front of your building.

Crisp, dark denim jeans fit smartly over strong and lean legs and were paired with a dark gray shirt and a light jacket.

“You look nice,” Toshi says as soon as you’re in front of him.

And despite the cool air of early spring, heat still flushes your cheeks as you mumble your thanks. “Let’s go?”

He nods and leads the way.

At least, for all of two minutes.

You could’ve sworn the outfit you picked out for the day was appropriate for the late afternoon weather, but you barely make it ten paces outside of Shiratorizawa’s gate before you start to shiver at a strong gust of wind.

Ushijima stops in his tracks.

“Toshi?” you ask, following suit.

He says nothing as sets his duffel bag to the ground and takes off his jacket. “Here,” he says, draping it over your shoulders.

All the protests you were about to voice die in your throat at the worried look on his face.

So you push your arms through the sleeves and fix the collar around your neck. It was definitely too big on you but it blocked out the chill just the same.

“Thank you, Toshi,”

“Anytime,” He says, taking your hand. “Let’s go or we’ll be late,”

And you squeeze your fingers around his as you follow his lead.

Your research told you that the restaurant was a small family-run joint that served mostly Japanese food.

A kindly middle-aged man greeted the pair of you as you entered and made your way to one of the smaller tables further in.

On your way, you pass by a table of girls from another school who shamelessly ogled your companion.

Once settled, Toshi leans in. “I need to use the restroom.” He whispered.

You nod and watch as he doubles back to ask the man at the counter for directions to the bathroom, rolling your eyes at the girls whose eyes remained glued to your boyfriend, before he disappeared into the restroom.

Then you smile in spite of yourself, knowing you couldn’t quite blame those girls even if you tried.

Sometimes Toshi’s presence alone was enough to draw attention even when he wasn’t on the court.

(The court was where he belonged and you both know it.)

Whichever the case, you make quick work of ordering both of your favorites and request for the beverages to be served first.

A minute passes before you catch Toshi emerging from the restrooms, which was cue for the table of girls to stare and whisper amongst themselves again.

He meets your eyes as he heads to your table. “Green tea?” he asks as he sits down.

“Yeah, I thought you might want some?”

He smiles. “I do. Have you ordered?”

“For the both of us, if that’s okay.”

“Hm?”

“Hayashi rice for you and some udon for me.”

“My favorite.”

You smile. “Of course.”

And the smile he gives you in return sends a kind of rush through you so sharp it’s almost disorienting.

“We can definitely consider this a celebration, then.”

He could easily mean a celebration for the end of the school year, but it doesn’t get rid of the obvious implication of his recruitment as well.

Not with the Schweiden Adlers flyer sticking out of the outer pockets of his bag and taunting you from the corner of your eye.

Not when you were a stone’s throw away from the station and well within range of the various trains and rails passing by with every minute.

You wanted so badly to say that you were proud of him. That you were excited for his upcoming meeting and that you wished him all the best after graduation. That he had your unwavering support in everything he’s spent his whole life training for.

But the words couldn’t come out of your mouth without a horrible aftertaste, which just made you feel worse.

You knew for damn sure that Toshi deserved every opportunity that came his way and he had worked too damn hard for too damn long to even let one chance slip past.

(Especially not from the strongest Division 1 V-League team.)

So who the hell were you to ask him to stay in Miyagi?

(A wide-eyed admirer of his who just happened to catch his eye in return. Nothing more and nothing less.)

So you manage to keep your smile and nod in agreement before making conversation about anything and everything that wasn’t his immediate recruitment.

And for a while, it worked.

He told you about the Volleyball intensive training camp that was held at your school.

(“So someone just snuck in?”

“Yes. It was Shouyo Hinata from Karasuno.”

“The one with the freakishly high jumps?”

“That would be him.”)

And you recount to him Semi and Natsumi’s band’s latest gig and even show him the video you took.

(“I didn’t know Sato-san could sing so powerfully.”

“Neither did I! Apparently this was the first time she actually sang lyrics to their original song.” )

And in between bites of your meal you laughed at old jokes and smiled as you spoke about your mutual friends.

(“So Tendou’s really going for culinary school, huh?”

“Yes, he wants to become a chocolatier.”

“Are there any schools like that in Japan?”

“He said there are few, but he aims to study and work in Paris.”

“That’s amazing. I’ve always wanted to go to Paris as a child.”

“Paris is very popular for tourists. Especially couples.” )

But of course it could only work for so long; the late afternoon bled into evening too fast and the food was consumed far too quickly and before you know it. Toshi glanced at his watch with a small frown. “I should be heading to the station now.”

You nod. “Right.”

And when he gets up to pay the bill himself, you find you don’t even have the energy to protest.

It takes a better part of your resolve, but you will yourself to see Toshi off at the station.

If you can’t voice your support as well as you should, you might as well show it.

What you found strange, though, was that it was your boyfriend who was more hesitant.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you back to the bus stop?” he asks.

You shake your head. “You might miss your train,”

“There will be other trains.”

“Well, yes, but you shouldn’t have your uncle wait too long.”

He frowns at this but you wave him off. “It’s alright!”

(It’s wasn’t.)

“Alright,” He finally concedes.

And before you can bid him goodbye, he drops his bag to the ground, steps forward, and takes you into his arms.

You stiffen for a moment before wrapping your own arms around his middle and squeeze.

(You want to squeeze him tighter to keep him here. To make him stay.)

You feel the press of his lips at the top of your head and the rumble of his voice in his chest as he murmurs into your hair, “I’ll be back soon.”

You’re in a daze when he pulls away and you stay that way as he heads into the gate, watching his figure retreat deeper and deeper inside until you lose track of him altogether.

Sure that you’re out of each other’s sight, you turn for the exit.

And the trip home, even with Toshi's jacket around your shoulders, leaves a chill under your skin.

It’s when you’ve arrived at Shiratorizawa’s gate that your phone vibrates.

Toshi: I’m about to board the Shinkansen.

You: good to know you made it there safely.

You: the ride to Tokyo is about 2 hours right?

Toshi: Yes. I’ll just sleep until then.

You: don’t forget to set an alarm, okay?

You: the last thing we want is for you to wake up in Kyoto.

Toshi: Thank you for reminding me.

Toshi: Also, the Schweiden Adlers’ headquarters is half an hour from Shinjuku

Toshi: There would be a lot of shops by Shinjuku Station.

Toshi: Would you like me to bring you back something while I'm here?

You: ah there’s no need for that! it’s alright!

Toshi: Are you sure?

You hesitate before typing.

You: Yep!

You: Just stay safe, ok?

The dorms were near empty when you got to your building.

It made sense, considering the final exams had just finished and everyone would be anxious to get the hell out of dodge.

You frown, regretting that you scheduled your trip home for next week despite reasoning (mostly to yourself than to your family at home) that you’d rather leave with everything packed up for Moving Day than go back and forth weeks before graduation.

(It was too quiet and you hated it.)

Nonetheless, you let the autopilot of routine takeover for the rest of the night.

Bath. Pajamas. Brush teeth. Call home.

The conversation was easy enough to hold up until your mother asks, “How is Wakatoshi-kun, by the way? ”

And autopilot turned off as you winced at the question. “He’s headed to Tokyo now.” You manage to say.

“Oh! He got recruited? ”

“Yeah, in a Division One team no less. He’s there for negotiations.”

“That’s wonderful news.”

“It is,”

“Are you alright, dear?”

(No.)

You nod as if your mother could see you. “Yeah. Just tired from the exams.”

Not a complete lie, but you’re relieved she bought it regardless. “Alright I won’t keep you any longer. I’ll call again tomorrow.”

“Sorry for worrying you.”

“Take care of yourself, dear. ”

“Alright. Bye.”

You wait for your mother to hang up before letting out a heavy sigh.

Now you were all alone.

(That’s how it was going to be, right? You might as well get used to it.)

So you do what you did best.

You hit the books, that’s what.

And the first on your hitlist was that blasted final calculus problem.

Toshi: I’ve arrived in Tokyo. I’m now in my uncle’s car.

Toshi: I’ve arrived at my Uncle’s house.

Toshi: Sleep well.

author’s notes:

♡ my favorite things to write are relationship dynamics, and i absolutely love it when you're integrated into the world you read/write about

♡ plus points to anyone who can figure out the inspo behind natsumi and fumiko's story

♡ PM me to be added to the taglist! (tho you can also totally just chat with me there, i swear i don't bite!)

#ushijima x reader #ushijima x you #ushijima headcanons #ushijima fic #ushijima imagine #from the oven: haikyuu!!#from the oven: multichapter #fic: araw araw #mine #ch: ushijima

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youngster-monster · 9 months

Note

I KNOW THAT THE DISCORD WIPS ARE A TRAVESTY BUT PRIOR TO THAT THE LAST TIME I OPENED A GOOGLE DOC WAS IN LIKE 2018 TO MAKE AN OC SHEET THAT AMOUNTED TO 100 WORDS AT THE VERY MOST!!!! I DID NOT REALIZE GOOGLE DOCS WAS EVEN AN OPTION I JUST USED IT FOR MY BAD CHARACTER SHEETS

also i cant in good conscience act like the discord wips were ancient history... it is with Shame that i kneel before your askbox and admit that it was in 2020 until like late 2021... after that i realized i could use google docs and now i swear on my life that my fics are organized i SWEAR

ive been hibernating since february (last fic completed let alone worked on Properly) so i am more skeletal than rotted at this point but surely . surely it will come back to me and i will go crazy again

LITERALLY IT IS SO DIFFICULT INTRODUCING CHARACTERS i tried to write oc content recently and it went so bad that i couldnt even stomach the idea of it anymore it is so DIFFICULT but fanfic? fanfic is so much Simpler in my brain. in terms of work i mean because at the point that im writing fanfic about something ive already gone so deep into the lore that i could name 8 niche quest npcs and their full backstory + all of my headcanons in the form of 300 very lengthy discord messages

oh my god. sorry but midway through this ask i just remembered that i still have something of a discord wip channel in use right now, but its not for full works and it IS for snippets. sometimes i have these little ideas in my head but theyre not good enough for a full fic so i just jot em down in a discord channel for (hopefully) later use.... the discord wips will never die

real talk? what you said about any finished work being an accomplishment makes me feel alot better about how irregular my fics are because i end up feeling guilty about how by the time my writers block is over, the fandoms are completely different .. and to be honest when you stop thinking about it it IS kind of funny because theres a. wow fanfiction and b. anime fanfiction. i wonder sometimes if people go to my page and have an aneurysm looking at the fandom list

WII RP???????? WII RP???????????? i wasnt allowed to do really anything with our wii because i was really REALLY young so perhaps this is only insane to me because i never did anything except use the wii to watch pucca in 240p but ON THE WII??????????????????

im going to be wojack pointing at the m3:r wip until the end of time and you can count on that, these two dead elves (and particularly how you write them!!!) have carved themselves into my brain and they refuse to pay rent

2021..... damn bitch you live like this!!

7 months of hibernation... you're getting preserved in a bog it's Fine. I spent a whole year writing Nothing, just rotting mostly, and now look at me ( < not normal) (writing though!)

Fanfics are so easy... and you get other people to bounce stuff off of too like if I crave content I can go yell to my friends about it. For OCs you need Context.... Lore..... who has the time!!! I mean I do I am a known oc enjoyer but still. What work

I do also have the snippet channel. And the snippet notes app. And the snippet google docs. And the snippet paper scraps. And– yeah okay I've escaped the indignity of discord wips but not that of Disorganized WIPs

I'm glad it helped! There's no such thing as 'moving on' for a fandom!!! I know anime fandoms tend to be fast moving but if you let your wip age some more you too can become 'the only person still writing this ship', and profit 😈

Listen. My parents could ground me from using my PC. They could take my DS. But by god they couldn't take away ALL the screens and if I had to point and click my way through writing a post about my sparklewolf daughter of hades then I WOULD. And did!! My wrist will never forgive me

#Asks #Anonymous #Love it when fic authors have wildly different fandoms #'final fantasy' 'baseball rpf' what. Okay.#Shaking Kael. Start paying rent richboy #It's good that you like my characterization of them because Christ alive I don't think it's in character anymore

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saintguard · 10 months

Text

I had some big ol' hyperfixation this weekend that actually got me to write some stuff (and lose some sleep, because apparently the best time to have ideas is in the middle of the night).

This kinda midnight revelation-style of creativity has happened before, when I ended up writing a whole fan rewrite of the Legend of Korra at 3am on my phone. It's kinda wild and remarkably coherent, but I'll leave that for some other time.

This weekend's hyperfixation that I'm going to focus on came out of two places:

Some worldbuilding I'd done on a stream back in August 2022 using some of the campaign/worldbuilding guidelines from Beam Saber by Austin Ramsey (it's a wonderful game, highly recommend it). I'd created two settings in it, one of which was a manufactured war between megacorporations taglined as "Imagine if the Tour de France/Formula 1 was mech battles". The other, which is actually important for this, takes place in an unnamed region on an unnamed planet with an overall cold climate, currently split between three factions who are all trying to get their hands on some old (and sealed) super-technology. The region has the incredibly unlucky distinction of being the place with heaviest indication of said super-tech, so these three offworld factions rushed in to try finding the tech first, sovereignty and the concerns of the millions of people living there be damned.

I've been trying to get myself back into drawing lately, and I had the idea for a scene that turned into a short (at this point just sketched out) comic. It goes something like this: Pilot: "Again, why are we doing this?" Handler: "To keep us going another day, Mai." Pilot, watching a battle unfold in front of them from their obscured position: "...right."

My brain turned out to be very fond of this idea, to the point where I started thinking of scenes and characters for a whole comic. I ended up with a page of notes on my phone and another page on a doc on my computer. I'm fairly pleased with that, after being so creatively burnt out this year.

Here are some highlights from those notes:

I've come up with eight characters, but only two of them are named: Mai-Lin, aka Mai, a local mech pilot and our protagonist, and Kestrel, a Vraskan mech pilot who might be a lab experiment (the Vraskan State is one of the offworld factions, a military dictatorship ala Starship Troopers).

That comic I was sketching out would actually function at the beginning of the comic, with Mai and her squad third-partying a fight between the Vraskans and the UFL (different faction, a stratified democracy).

The cold climate means lots of cold weather clothing, including greatcoats for the Vraskans and a whole variety for the UFL. Not too decided on what the local fashion is yet.

One of the main throughlines would be Mai and Kestrel continuing to encounter each other, with Mai trying to break Kestrel's programming. They kiss at some point. Is it a good idea? Who knows!

I wrote not one, but two separate flashbacks for Kestrel. I'm really starting to understand the writer thing of "I love this character! I'm going to have absolutely terrible things happen to them."

Outlines of a few other scenes, with the highlight being just before a diplomatic summit. Kestrel's CO, a violent, domineering sort in a violent, domineering society, is accompanying a Vraskan diplomat who's also a military officer. The CO makes a comment about how much of a waste of time this whole summit is, to which the diplomat shows their full displeasure, culminating with “Your rank may be higher, but I outrank you. Are we understood?”

I love all of this, with one caveat - I don't know if I can deliver on my own promise. I can see in my mind's eye what all this stuff should look like, but I'm not sure if I could put pencil to paper and actually make it happen. Still, it's nice to gush about it, especially after all this time of feeling creatively empty.

#worldbuilding #mecha #hyperfixation

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paunchsalazar · 2 years

Note

I like writing my journal and my class notes by hand. I don't have preferences for paper as long as it's not that overly smooth paper that is hard to write in. My favorite pen is the Pilot G-Tec-C4 (i swear this is not sponsored) because it's a perfect mix of looking smooth and not taking too long to dry and it generally feels good to write with.

I tend to go for thin pens (and mechanical pencils). 0.5mm is what i usually use, but once i got a very cheap 0.2mm mechanical pencil and i figured i would break the lead really often. Luckily once i got the hang of it, it was harder to break the lead of that one than of my 0.5mm mechanical pencil. I'm still trying to find more leads for it because once i ran out of them turns out 0.2mm leads are hard to find!

When i write fic though i write it all in the computer because i like the feel and the sound of the keys when i get really into it and type fast. I like changing up my fonts once in a while to help bring variety to my writing. I like using templates for books and go through pinterest to search photos for the cover that no one else will see.

My process for writing fic is very messy. I usually begin with a skeleton of excerpts i want to include. I add ideas as they occur to me, and i try to place them in the timeline of the fic as it makes best sense to me in the moment. I begin writing in chronological order once i have a few ideas in the skeleton, and i might continue to add to the skeleton as i write out the first parts.

Once i'm done (if i'm ever done) i begin editing, which is the overwhelming part. I usually realize that i need to rewrite some parts, edit out scenes and write in new ones. But often i also realize that it would be better if i rearranged the order of my scenes, so i often feel like i'm pulling out scissors from my pocket and cutting fabric into pieces only to try to sew it together again. Sometimes i picture myself sitting on the floor with mismatched pieces of fabric around me and i can't make sense of anything as i think 'what have i done'. But it usually works.

(Sorry this is too long, i just got excited about the questions. Also thank you for introducing me to kyokao, i had never thought about it before but once i did. Once i did i cannot unthink it. They make so much sense. It's been living in my mind for weeks. Might end up writing for them at this rate)

omg thank you so much for answering!!!! im sorry it took a bit to reply!

love favorite pens heehee I always have the same Uniball rollerballs for writing and Pentel sign pen for sketching. Such a difference in feel between the tiniest change in size!!!

yes yes!!! I love to know people’s thoughts on fonts! Personally I always use Garamond for the like intended-to-be-used prose, dialogue or a passage etc. and some other font (usually a sans serif) for notes and like - SETTING - beat - should do this - or action notes like (she sits, opens to the page) kinda script style.

I loved the way you describe putting together pieces of fabric!!! also this was not too long at all please I love to hear (read) it all!!! thank you!

(also oh my goodness… welcome to our ranks. I was blind but now I see and somehow it makes so much sense to me… I’m so so glad anyone out there agrees though of course no one is ever obligated to!

there’s all the business during the sports festival and later volumes but I think it especially could work looking back at the scene where they look at the others having fun after the Karuizawa mess and Kyoya asks about Kaoru’s strategy, paraphrasing but: “what your plan worked worked too well and they actually fell in love?” “Oh, it’s too soon for that.”

potential energy… I think it doesn’t have to happen but it could!! perhaps it’s too soon! maybe it’ll take a while!! but who knows… they said it themselves their club is full of dummies!

I have a crazy bullet point into chronological order beat list doc that could be a fic or them if I was smart enough to fully realize it….. maybe!! maybe.. but to do it right would take sooooooo long! slow burns can be magic but they take so much work! and in proper Ouran fashion I think every small thing is an epiphany for these guys lol)

#SORRY I CANT SHUT UP IM INCAPABLE OF BEING CONCISE THANK YOU FOR SHARING SERIOUSLY ITS SO EXCITING!!!

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piplupod · 1 year

Note

do u have any advice for someone with dissociative ptsd who’s like 80% sure he’s multiple. i honestly don’t know what to do because i keep trying to explore and learning absolutely nothing about what’s in my brain if u know what i mean. sorry this is kind of out of the blue

im going to do my best to keep this as concise as possible bc i am so prone to ramble fjdskl but i’d like to help if i can and i know long chunks of text are unappealing

first thing is obviously the disclaimer of i am not a mental health professional or professional anything, i’m just a mentally ill disordered traumatised person/system, so take whatever i say with a grain of salt and also keep yourself safe, find professional help, etc. use your discretion when it comes to what we're saying here.

very brief rundown of my own experiences of system discovery: i looked into IFS therapy, things started clicking in the way of More than just IFS, a situation happened with a friend as witness where it was basically undeniable that we’re a system, and things just sort of kept getting explored and shoved into the light after that (turns out we had actually been looking into all of this stuff when we were 16/17 but had completely forgotten about it despite making several notes and messaging a couple people asking questions… good ol’ amnesia sdjfkl). so that’s the short version of our/my experience figuring this shit out in case that does anything to help.

so! with that out of the way, here’s what I’ve got for you! first off is to take it slow and don’t force anything (extremely frustrating advice, i am well aware fjsdkl), that’ll just make things more difficult and potentially cause you more issues. be gentle with yourself, and make sure you have a solid support system and that you’re in a safe situation before delving into anything. be cautious as you continue, and be open (and welcoming) if you do find any parts/alters/etc sharing the brain.

i feel like there is a good possibility that whatever you’re trying to figure out right now is either not meant for you at this moment in time or that (if you do have DID/OSDD) a gatekeeper doesn’t feel you’re ready for whatever it is. in that case, go at your own discretion ofc but just be extra cautious and maybe leave it to rest for now until things feel a bit more open and available (and obviously once again seek professional help if that’s available to you).

personally if i ever push to find something and i’m left drawing a blank, that’s always been our gatekeeper blocking me off from finding something. trauma is tricky to navigate, it’s easy to push too hard and end up in a worse spot than you were in before. but i absolutely understand the desire to know and understand what’s going on with the brain!

i think my only other piece of potential advice is maybe engage with systems/pwOSDDID online (or irl if thats available) and delve into some (more) research. educate yourself as much as you can about the experiences of having this osdd-1/did and about the medical terminology and research (i’ve got a google docs folder of some biographies and research papers if you’re interested). if you can’t know about your own personal experiences, it might still help to get to know about the experiences from a medical standpoint and from other people’s perspectives. and that may help you find more, as you may find you relate to things people are saying or feel something resonate with you and it’ll give you more leads (or perhaps lead you in the other direction, that you don’t have the disorder and it’s something else). if there’s a gatekeeper or protector etc blocking you off from figuring things out, doing this sort of research and engaging with systems/pwOSDDID might help them feel like you’re more ready for that sort of self discovery.

{Note from Nine: I tried to edit Juno's response down as much as possible lmao but it's difficult to get it any shorter than this. Quick POV from a non-host alter: if you do have DID/OSDD and your system-mates don't want you to know, there's probably a reason for that. It doesn't mean you CAN'T figure it out, but just be careful with it. We're obviously somewhat glad we know now so that we don't feel fucking insane, but it's really fucking hard to come to terms with and has caused us a shit ton of issues (and we often still struggle with denial). I'd honestly hesitate to do what Juno said in the last paragraph, but just like... go at your own pace lmao, use your own discretion. Don't get yourself in a bad place with this shit. Take it slow, make sure you're safe, don't push anything that will only end up hurting you more.}

#I don't entirely know how I feel about this but I'm trusting you to keep yourself safe lmao.#nine speaks #(as well as juno lol but they dont' have a specific talking tag for here)#pippen needs 2nd breakfast #asked and answered

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krakenartificer · 3 years

Text

So my therapist and I were talking today about ADHD brains, and what "executive function" means, and we discovered a really interesting thing about how my brain works. I don't know how much it will extend to other people, but I'm throwing it out there in case it's useful for anyone else.

Usually it takes me about 1.5 - 2 hours each morning, to go from "booting up my computer" to "actually starting on my first task". This is true whether I work from home or work in the office, whether it's a coding day or a meeting day, whether I jump out of bed when the alarm goes off or if I'm very seriously giving consideration to sleeping under my desk while my computer boots. I don't want it to take that long, but extensive experimentation has shown that it definitely does.

Today I decided to try an experiment. Instead of my normal morning routine (where I check email, IMs, to-do list, and self-care list, and compile that into an enormous to-do list for the day, then sort that list in order of "if everything goes sideways and I get to only one thing, what thing will be the most painful if it happens tomorrow instead of today", and then set up multiple desktops on my macbook so that each task -- including "brush teeth" has its own desktop, and then put the desktops in the assigned priority-order), I decided I'd just jump right into my first task, and see if I could get myself a hyper-focused hour of work before someone came into the office to bug me.

It. Was. Terrible.

I mean, I got the task done, in record time. Then I checked Tumblr. Then I checked Facebook. Then I composed a summary of David Graeber's argument that the European Age of Exploitation cannot be understood without knowing why the Chinese decided to abandon paper money. Then I replied to all my Facebook messages. Then I helped Jessica at work set up her code. There followed a relatively productive afternoon where I helped my boss sort out a personnel problem, set priorities for our department, contributed to one meeting, ran yet another meeting, got consensus on a project, and helped Jessica again -- but I didn't eat my midmorning snack until 1pm, I never did brush my teeth, and my knees are killing me because all through the second meeting my body was sending "This posture hurts! Change position! Get! Up!" signals, and I couldn't summon the focus to actually move from the floor to the couch. By the time my therapist called, my phone was on 3% and I couldn't find my bluetooth headphones. I'm still 400 calories under my target for the day, because I missed 900 calories during my workday and I couldn't figure out how to add more than 500 calories to my dinner.

So my therapist and I talked about this strange mix of symptoms: knocking out task after task of helping people at work, but unable to feed myself; incredibly highly effective code debugging, but also getting lost in Tumblr for an hour. I wasn't under-stimulated, but I also didn't get to pick what I focused on. And he talked about how executive function isn't just one thing, which I knew, but mentioned specifically that one element of executive function is taking your own initiative, deciding your actions for yourself, rather than just reacting to stimuli. And it hit me ---

I can't do that.

I thrive in hyper-focused development environments, where I react to each compiler error by debugging the error ... but I break down when the compiler runs without error; I don't know what to do if I don't have the error-stimulus deciding my actions.

I thrive in high-multi-tasking environments like running a retail store at Christmas, where I do a task, and then look around and see which notification is the highest priority, and then do that task. But I struggle in January and February, when all the customers are gone and I don't know what to do.

And today, I was entirely stimulus-driven. Jessica asked for help, and I helped her. Kathy commented on Facebook, and I replied to her. Ryan asked about a report, and I explained it to him. Mark brought up something that reminded me of David Graeber, and I typed up a history essay. Anything that didn't have a notification -- brushing my teeth, eating my snack, charging my phone -- didn't get done.

And that's when it hit me. My usual morning routing isn't a waste of 2 hours. It's setting up my environment so that I will be stimulated to do the things I want to do.

I have barely any initiative-decide-for-myself at all. I get one (1) intitiativon each morning, and I have to spend it wisely. And what I do with it, each day, is set up the stimuli I will experience throughout the day.

I finish a task and close that desktop: the next desktop pops up with a note that says "Meditate."

I finish meditating and close the desktop: the next desktop pops up with an email I need to reply to.

I finish that email and close that desktop: the next one pops up with a note that says "Order groceries."

I don't have any initiative left by that point, but I don't need to: I get the stimulus to do my work, maintain my health, connect with friends, and clean my house, and I'm too executive-dysfunction-deprived to do anything but respond to stimulus, and so I do all those things. This explains why I need to leave such specific directions to myself: not “write chapter 5″, but “Open C:/Documents/Writing/NovelTitle/Chapter5.doc”. The first one isn’t a stimulus to action; the second one is.

It's also why I have such a hard time with "leisure", and why my "randomized leisure activity" deck helped me so much; because by the time I get to the end of the day, and I'm out of spoons and I have earned a fun and relaxing evening.... I cannot -- by definition -- decide what would be fun and relaxing.

Like I say, I have no idea whether that will be any good for anyone else, but it prompted some interesting introspection, and I wanted to share. Now if you’ll excuse me, I still need to go brush my teeth

#ADHD #executive dysfunction cw #coping strategies #gpoy #how to life #long post #unsolicited advice #neurodivergence #tips #how to adult

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frogtanii · 3 years

Text

these transcripts are protected by doctor-client privilege and hippa laws and should only be accessed by the verified person(s). please call xxx-xxxx if you are in fear of those laws being violated.

————————————————————————

[dr otsuaka]: hello, [redacted]! it’s so great to hear from you again! last we met, things were on track with your recovery — has that changed at all?

[patient 86]: clears throat um, not really. things are weird, that’s all.

[dr o]: weird how?

[86]: ...

[dr o]: does this have something to do with your roommate, [redacted]?

[86]: nods

[dr o]: does this also deal with you working through your feelings for her?

[86]: she... she doesn’t like me like that. i’m not like... like [redacted].

[dr o]: now, what did we say about negative self talk and comparisons to others?

[86]: ...not to do it.

[dr o]: i know it isn’t easy but you are not [redacted] or [redacted] for a reason. you are you and that doesn’t make you less than! it just makes you different.

[86]: smiles ... she said something like that to me once.

[dr o]: she sounds like a smart girl. you should listen to her.

[86]: ...yeah.

————————————————————————

[patient 12]: —and then she just, punches the air, wham! and it was so intense and i’m pretty sure i’ve never been more turned on in my life because, god doc you should’ve seen her. i know you’re like 50 and gay but.. damn.

[doctor fujiwara]: laughs you are quite the character [redacted].

[12]: i try.

[dr f]: well, it seems as though this girl has become quite the fixture in your life.

[12]: i mean.. yeah. she saved me.

[dr f]: hm... don’t you think you are.. idolizing her a bit? placing her on an unattainable pedestal which sets her up for failure in your eyes? you’ve placed quite a bit of weight on [redacted].

[12]: ... no, no she’s helped me through so much but i don’t, she’s not my idol or anything.

[dr f]: are you sure? you place much of the credit for your recovery on her. is that fair to her, to feel entirely responsible for your health and well-being?

[12]: ...

[dr f]: just think about it, hm? now, tell me again about this ferret you were thinking of purchasing?

————————————————————————

[dr otsuaka]: ... and how did that make you feel?

[patient 88]: ... you couldn’t sound more cliche if you tried.

[dr o]: laughs nothing gets quite past you [redacted].

[88]: you say that as though it is a bad thing.

[dr o]: trust me it isn’t. but on that note, tell me some things you’ve observed this week.

[88]: ...she isn’t eating as much. i think the stress is getting to her.

[dr o]: is it not getting to you as well?

[88]: ...it isn’t about me.

[dr o]: this is your therapy session [redacted], it quite literally is about you. ...have you been neglecting yourself in favor of taking care of her?

[88]: we’re drifting and i do not want to lose her. she has [redacted] and it doesn’t seem like... like she has use of me anymore.

[dr o]: [redacted]... you are not an object to be used. no one can decide if you are “of use” or not — you need to take care of yourself so that when you are up to it, when you are healed and ready, you can take care of the others around you. she is a grown woman and as much as you care for her, she can take care of herself. it is time for you to focus on you.

[88]: ... i don’t know how to do that.

[dr o]: smiles well, that is what i’m here for.

————————————————————————

[dr barnes]: ah welcome, [redacted]! it’s so great to meet you! dr otsuaka speaks of you highly!

[patient 4]: wow! you’re so big! your biceps are as big as my head!!

[dr b]: laughs i do enjoy my time at the gym! please sit, sit!

[4]: thank you for seeing me dr barnes!

[dr b]: no, it’s really my pleasure! when dr otsuaka needed to clear out her client list, i leaped at the opportunity to take some of you on.

[4]: yeah, she told me something like that. i’m just happy i still have a therapist! it would really suck if all my progress went out the window.

[dr b]: oh yes, i have some of your charts here... shuffles papers looks like you suffer from... separation anxiety and ptsd?

[4]: yep, but it hasn’t gotten me down yet!

[dr b]: that’s great [redacted]. i’m looking forward to seeing the progress we can make with one another!

[4]: aw, thanks dr b! you’re so cool!

[dr b]: that’s all you bud, all you. so, what do you think of starting from the beginning?

[4]: well, it all started when my mom met my dad and they fell in love and had se—

————————————————————————

[dr yamada]: wow, hi [redacted]! it’s been so long since we’ve last spoken. high school, was it?

[patient 7]: um, yeah.

[dr y]: so, what brings you back here to see me? do you need a refill on your meds?

[7]: ...maybe.

[dr y]: [redacted]... are you alright?

[7]: bursts into tears no.. oh god no..

[dr y]: that bad, huh?

[7]: yeah.. yeah, it’s that bad.

[dr y]: is it [redacted]?

[7]: sniffles oh, no not him. actually, his girlfriend? she’s back.

[dr y]: oh god..

[7]: yeah.. laughs dryly

[dr y]: well, it’s a good thing you’re here then. do you remember your affirmations?

[7]: how could i forget? i am loved—

[dr y]: in unison —i am deserving of love—

[7]: —and i will love in return. wow, it’s been a minute.

[dr y]: and still, it stuck. yet another example of my incredible teachings.

[7]: just as insufferable as always, dr yamada.

[dr y]: and just as guarded as usual, [redacted]. am i going to have to pry the information out of you this time around?

[7]: nah... i think... i think i really need to talk about it.

[dr y]: good. i am here to listen.

℗ poker face

intermission

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - kekeke a new funky short filler chapter comin up for y’all!!! i’ve done therapy transcripts once before so i kinda wanted to try again??? provide a splash of insight for the hotties who r going to therapy in pf!! and even tho i think i made it kinda obvious, i wanna see y’all guess whomst is whom!!! also this is considerably lower quality than i intended KSJ but we will get back to our regularly scheduled (read: better) writing tomorrow KEJEK anyways fat thanks to my wife ghostie (who i cant tag rip) for helping me out!!! don’t forget to feed me!!! <3333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

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kyberphilosopher · 3 years

Text

Androphobia

Requested? No Word Count: 7014

An Android attempts to offer comfort to someone with sleeping trouble.

Androphobia [an·drow·fow·bee·uh]; Fear of or aversion to men. A related concept is misandry, the hatred of men, but not necessarily fear of them.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

Every woman or female born member of society has experienced an off putting encounter with a man.

This is not to be entirely blamed on men- not as a whole, no. But individuals, the ones you run into on your way out of the grocery store, the ones who stop you on the streets, they are the ones to blame. Some women have the guts to tell them off. Not an easy task with the given anxiety, but one to take pride in for the capability that comes with it. Some women stay quiet, rush away as fast as their polite feet can take them and hope someone will see the problem. They usually don’t. And some women are outliers, tricking their ways out of interactions with these men one way or another, and to them I take my hat off.

There are men who are easily construed as monsters, when in the dead of night their silhouettes flash beneath the tallest of streetlights. And there is no reason to not believe them as such right then and there, for as spoken by our Lady Galadriel, “the hearts of men are easily corrupted.” And any look into statistics will back up this fear, any personal experience, any hug that’s gone on just a bit too suspiciously long, any catching of those wandering eyes and it’s easy to feel in your heart that men are not to be trusted. They are not to be confronted, nor left alone with, and they will jump at the opportunity to put down anyone for the validation of other men.

This is the reality of women and men in 2021. It is the same for several in 2039.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

You step out of your old, dusty car. Chips of the dark red paint flake away as the raindrops hit it. Above you, the gloomy, warm gray clouds roll against each other in different shades and sizes, high above the skyscrapers and the stress of the world.

Gathering your belongings for the day, you shut the door with your hip and shoulder everything. Then you make your way towards the Police Department, your work, with the heels of your shoes scuffing against the parking lot.

Across the way, you can see Detective Reid, who rubs his brow while he does his usual slamming of the car door. There’s no point in looking for Hank at this ungodly hour, he’d never be in on time. He’ll probably park his car next to yours as usual- a little too close so it’s hard to squeeze into your own and pull out without causing his vehicle damage, but you never say anything. Not because you are one of the people who feel threatened by Hank as a man- It’s more because you trust Hank as a person, that you’d never bring up the obvious annoyances he places upon you and everyone else. Though, once you had tried.

(“Cars parked a little close, don’t you think?”

“Shut the hell up.”)

The inside of the Department is bustling. A female Android brushes past you briskly, the others at the front desk all seemingly click clacking away in their own brains. Even months after they’ve gained independence, it’s not uncommon for you to remember how they were before. How still and lifeless they were. And looking back on it, it was awfully sad. They seem busier now, more alive and fast. A strange image, in your mind, but not an unwelcomed one.

You reach your desk in the lobby, on the right side of the room slightly separated from the officers. You’re a psychologist, so it’s not plausible for you to be seated next to bias. Instead you’re in your own corner, with a rather cluttered desk on the top and empty rows of drawers. You do, however, keep a small japanese cherry blossom tree on the top, courtesy of Hank, though his has all but fully withered at this point.

And then you’re ready to start your day. Pull out your chair, click your pen and type away reports and notes on the computer to send to the detectives. You don’t have any meetings scheduled today, so there’ll be no need to prepare questions or anything of the sort. Just an easy day.

And then...

As you and I, the dear reader, have already discussed, finding men to be generally scary is an easy task. And even though you are smart enough to know that it’s simply not possible to truly believe that every man or male presenting individual is terrible, or has done terrible things, or has experienced the desire to do something terrible, there are times where you can’t help the cautiousness. You can’t help the flinch, the distrust, the physical distance, the hand in your pocket grasping for anything to use in self defense. Seeing men like Detective Reid in power, brutish and given guns and easily agitated, certainly doesn’t help.

So when you swish your chair around and come to a stand, your heart drops. You’re looking into the presence of someone tall, with broad shoulders and a strong chest. A man.

[Sort of.]

“Good morning, Doctor L/N.”

“Connor,” you breathe out, eyes flitting down as you attempt to quiet the thump thump thumping of your heart in your throat. “I- I didn’t-”

“Your heart race has increased. You appear stressed, Doctor L/N.”

He cocks his robotic head to the side, his eyebrows creasing as the literal gears in his head turn.

“You just startled me,” you admit, grabbing the back of your chair and moving it over as an excuse to create a bit of distance between you and the [possible] threatening force. “What is it, Connor?”

Now, for context, you and he were not considered close. You’ve spoken a few times, though never as friends, only friendly. You remember seeing him last Winter, when he would stand out in the snow outside the station, just gazing up after Hank had already returned to his own home. You remembered how he was different from the other Androids, besides being more advanced to begin with. You’d never said anything about that. It was obvious the only person it would’ve really mattered to, Hank, was already aware of this. And Hank liked Connor. There was no point in interfering.

In Connor’s eyes, you could really do no wrong. You were smart, intelligent, and diligent in your work. Your job had been threatened by the presence of Androids for years by the time Connor had showed up, but it still appeared that they wouldn’t have done your legacy justice. But despite this, interactions were scarce. You were not friends. You were friendly. And you were always on your guard.

“I was hoping to hear your thoughts on a case Lieutenant Anderson and I have been working on,” Connor tells you. He’s always made efforts to keep eye contact with people, and the tilt of his head tries to follow your eyeline to do so. But it’s never to any avail. “I apologize for the abruptness, but the thought only occured to me last night and I think it could be a good one.”

“Yeah, sure,” you answer. “I can help with that. I’ll get the details from Hank when he comes in.”

“No need,” the Android quickly assures you. When you look up to him for a brief second, you can see his tongue sway against his bottom lip, creating the softest of imprints. His dark eyes glitter like a beatles in the catch from the light above.

He produces a light, manilla colored folder lined inside with papers. “I hope you’ll find all the details you need here,” he explains, offering the file to you.

You take it after a moment, watching his thumb let go in the softest, most normal way possible.

“Thank you, Doctor L/N,” Connor smiles. “I’ll go get you your morning coffee.”

Connor is like a dog in that way. Not in an insulting way, or an obedient way. In a kind way, in a warm way. With his chocolate eyes and the dimples when he smiles, it’s hard not to want to just believe that he is incapable of hurting anyone or anything. Especially a woman.

But when you snap back to reality, you can see his male form. His set back shoulders, the robotic strength, the fact that he was programmed to execute any task he so desires. And then you’re right back on edge, wanting to step back from him until you’re sure you can take a full breath.

It’s easier when he’s taken himself away. You can see him through the glass walls in the kitchen, waiting for the pot to heat up. Doesn’t seem so bad from far away, like most of them do.

You return to the chair and open the file. At first, your eyes flit to the pictures attached at the top- one of a woman that looks so familiar, another of a man whose angry brows cover his eyes. Then they move to the written report, and something clicks.

The woman in the picture was an acquaintance from college. The man next to her was the main suspect, and apparently her lover.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

“Morning Doc,” Hank waves tiredly. Then his tone changes slightly. “The fuck are ya doing at my desk for?”

You push yourself from your lean on the edge of his property anxiously. “I read the report on your case. The Carla Rodriguez one.”

Hank sighs in his classic sigh, tired and grumpy from the morning and being alive. “What about it?” he questions, rummaging through his large bag of prescription pill bottles he’s brought with him every day this year. You suspect Connor has something to do with this.

“I had a... personal relationship with the victim,” you begin, crossing your arms. “I knew her.”

Hank looks at you, bewildered. “You were sleeping with my victim?”

“What? No. What? I- anyway. Carla and I were in college together.”

Hank’s face changes. He leans back with high raised brows in the way he does when processing something.

“The boyfriend did it. I remember him from back then, I think. Real angry guy.”

“You’re sure you know what you’re talkin about?” Hank questions you, though not in an insulting way. You know it’s anything but that.

“I’m sure. I can tell you what you need but you know I can’t testify. You won’t be able to use my bias in your report.”

“But the bias is the whole point.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, along with your shoulders. It’s the universal symbol for ‘I don’t know what to tell you’.

“You talked to Connor about this?”

“Well, no. I- he wanted my opinion but I didn’t tell him this part.”

Hank glances around. “Where's he at anyway?”

You shrug again. You’re thinking about the disposable coffee cup on your desk, left there by Connor a few hours ago, that you’d never brought yourself to touch.

“Run it by the Android before we do anything,” Hank advises you. “Nutjob’s got this whole system in his head.”

“Yeah,” you mutter as Hank seats himself. “That guy’s weird.”

“Tellin’ me?” Hank groans.

And the rest of the morning you spend avoiding Connor, thinking at your desk, barely doing your job while you let yourself get lost in thought. You’re not usually like this. You’re very professional at work- you love this job. The thrill, the learning about criminals and their rehabilitation- it makes you feel so tranquil. Complete, even.

But knowing a victim, knowing the perpetrator, still adapting to the change of Androids looking happy for once, knowing Hank pretends you’re the child he lost- it... it...

You snap your drawer shut.

What’s wrong with you today?

You huff out dry air. When you turn ever so slightly, you can see Hank at his desk, eyes already on you with concerned and empathetic brows. Seeing him calms you down a little, at least makes you feel more in the real moment. After a moment, you turn back straight. Then you smooth back your hair, and open a your file again.

“Doctor L/N?”

You look up slowly, recognizing the boyish, sturdy voice of Connor. Sure enough, there he is. Tall, looking down at you with his warm, brown eyes. They remind you of an excited, loyal dog. Yeah, you think, Connor seems like a dog person.

And then you catch the sharpness of how broad his shoulders are, how little effort it would take for him to kill you, or pin you down, or come at you in the dark.

“Can I speak with you candidly, Doctor L/N?”

“You...may,” you say slowly. Connor begins to squat, until he is level with your eyeline, though he’s over on the other side of your desk. From your view, your cherry blossoms pink petals stand out against the paleness of his skin, and then the darkness of his hair.

“I heard what you said earlier to the Lieutenant,” he begins.

Truthfully, your eyes flicker around his face, mostly between his lips and his nose and his eyes. They’re all so realistic. Well, obviously that was the point in his creation, but still. They’re so human. Connor is human. Even the way he seems to move his mouth, like his lips are just a little dry, is human. Such a strange detail. Perhaps you would never have noticed it if he hadn’t gotten this close.

“When?” you question.

“About 3 hours ago, about the file I gave you.”

Your eyes snap away. Connor’s own eyes follow your movement.

“I know that this must be difficult for you-”

“Connor,” you sigh, slightly exasperated, but still holding it together. Your eyes close like you can’t bear to look at anything in the present moment right now. You must be trying to pretend that you’re somewhere else. “I’ll be alright. This was in my job description.”

The Android’s eyebrows knit for a split second, confused. “Overseeing the psychology behind your friends death was in your job description?”

And it’s a genuine question from him. That’s what makes it so hard to contain your laughter, no matter how frustrated or overwhelmed you are right now.

“Yeah,” you finally muster with a light chuckle. “Apparently.” Then you’re back to business. “This is my job. I’ll be alright. Thank you for your concern.”

“I just considered that, since you’ve been on the news before, the suspect could know that you’re involved.”

“So?” you ask, slightly more snappy than intended.

“He may know you’re here and subsequently attempt to cause you harm.”

There are two conflicting sides in your brain right now. The first one says: Now think about this. How could he harm you in a place full of cops? It’s not like he knows where you live or anything. How could he even find that out? When they bring him in, he’ll be in custody the whole time. Gavin won’t let him out of those handcuffs. Everything will be just fine.

And the other part? It shows you a dark, masculine figure, looming over you. Police department or not, he is there. He will cause you grief and harm, do something so terrible to you you could not even fully imagine it enough to anticipate yourself.

And, despite your better judgement, and to your full awareness, you listen to the second half.

“Okay, so,” you breathe out. “So what are you saying?”

Connor’s eyes draw to his left in a stutter, his mouth parting as if he’s in consideration. “The Lieutenant and I had talked about... having you stay in a... safer place.”

Your eyebrows pinch together. “What do you mean by that?”

Connor looks so human in this moment. it’s so apparent, and piercing in this exact second. The details in his eyes, slightest of blemishes on his cheekbones.

Connor leans in, his eyebrows raising. Subconsciously, you lean back ever so slightly in response.

“We were thinking of taking you to the Lieutenants place.” He sees your eyes widen, getting ready to give a vocal response. “It’s a very safe place,” Connor promises. “I can assure you there are many rooms to your liking.”

You take a minute, looking the Android right in his warm, hopeful, perfectly symmetrical eyes. “Connor, I’m not interested in having this discussion right now.”

“It’s just-”

“Back off,” you snap. It’s assertive. Something you don’t usually do towards masculine presenting beings.

As soon as you say it, you regret it, however. The person across from you just looks so heartbroken, almost. His big brown eyes, the ones that remind you of a loyal dog, are looking right at you. How could you not feel bad for snapping at Connor? Sweet Connor, who doesn’t take pleasure in hurting people no matter how much you convince yourself he does.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

The Carla Rodriguez murder case went on for two more days. Her boyfriend, unfortunately, was not yet found. Hank was working on obtaining a warrant based on your instincts that would give him access to search family members houses for the man. Things were becoming focused.

Each night you went home, you struggled to sleep. You did in fact, find out that Connor may have been onto something when he suggested the consideration of safety. You indeed stayed up later than usual, using both locks on your dirty apartment door for once. It was hard to fall asleep. Whenever you did, it became all too easy for you to imagine a solid, big, broad shouldered figure standing over the foot of your bed, waiting to strike.

A man, as usual.

Ironically, you did feel better when Hank- a man- would come into the station. And then there was Connor, who was somewhere between a puppy and a wolf, half following Hank, half fully capable of loading and discharging a gun. Connor made you feel safe too, but only by association. It felt bad to think about him after the snapping that occurred Thursday, but it could’ve made you feel worse to act unprofessionally in the work place. It was best you try to forget it, and try to forget that Connor has unlimited and invincible memory.

On Sunday, you and Hank had your weekly scheduled lunch. Nothing fancy, just fast food from a food truck by the train tracks. You’ll both probably get burgers, except Hank will try to add lettuce and some vegan bullshit to convince you he’s sticking to his diet. Of course he will.

You throw the keys to your locker in the backroom into your desk drawer, and slip it closed. Across the floor, Hank is already ahead of you, tugging on his crappy jacket and somehow standing patiently and grumpily at the same time.

“Ready to go?” you ask as you approach him, your own jacket in hand.

“Yeah, just waitin’ for the kid,” Hank replies casually.

“The kid?”

“I’m ready to go, Lieutenant,” the enthusiastic voice of Connor rings out. He has one of those voices where you can tell when he’s happy and smiling too, and he is in this very moment.

Nobody ever joins you and Hank. You knew Hank had taken Connor to the truck before, but that was just between them, and this was just between you. An odd decision on Hank’s part to make such a change.

“Alright,” Hank calls back. Then he turns to you, the smallest of knowing grins on his face. “Ready when you are, Doctor.”

You just nod your head and start walking out to Hank’s car, unsure of what to do think. In the end, you decide to just not think at all.

“What are you doing this for?” you’d ask Hank as you were walking, when the Android known as Connor was out of earshot.

“What? You got a problem with Connor?” You shake your head no. “Well good. Because besides bein’ a freak he’s perfectly fine.”

Yep. Thanks, Hank.

The drive over is silent, besides Hank’s music. You like his taste, but it doesn’t make you feel less tense around Connor. On the other hand, Connor is completely oblivious of said tension. You can see him in the rearview mirror, smiling and looking out the window every now and again.

Once arriving to the scene, Connor gets out first. You click your seatbelt away, about to pull the handle open when you notice Hank hasn’t moved at all.

“You coming?”

“Mm,” Hank fake thinks, flipping through his cd cases. “Nah.”

“Well then... well then are you even hungry?”

“I got food back at the office,” he sighs, not even looking up at you. “Indian from last night. Gonna wreak havoc on the ol’ plumbing.”

“Then what did you bring me here for?” you question finally, developing a tension headache from how often you’ve been knitting your brows together lately.

Hank looks up and over, an almost offended expression on his face. You can see it in his wide old eyes, the angry eyebrows, the slightly opened mouth.

“Because I’m trying to create a warm and loving social circle.”

“You one time told me die because I ate your jar of pickles!” you cry. “Oh my god- Hank, is this about me and Connor? Is that it? You want us to get along?”

“Yeah, and what if I do?” Hank turns to you fully, putting an angry hand on the steering wheel to clutch something.

“It doesn’t matter!” you exclaim. “It literally doesn’t matter at all!”

Hank is quiet. You can see his beady, angry eyes on you, his jaw clenching. “Get the fuck outta my car,” he says at last.

“Gladly,” you mutter. You open the door and slam it closed.

Looking across the wet, rainy street, you can see Connor looking up at the sign of the food truck known as Chicken Feed innocently. You breathe out, feeling the heat from the previous ‘discussion’ beginning to melt away.

Okay, Y/N, you tell yourself. Just go talk to him.

You begin your walk across the street, hearing the light tapping of the rain hitting the asphalt all around you. His back is getting closer and closer. You still have a chance to turn around.

“Hey, Connor,” you say lightly.

“Hello, Doctor L/N,” Connor greets in return warmly.

“Whatcha... thinking about eating, there?” you ask, both of you knowing damn well Androids can’t eat.

“I’m not sure,” he admits. Then he shrugs, and very genuinely says, “I guess I could have some french fries.”

“Alright. I’ll get you some.”

And you do. And you feel so stupid while ordering it. The guy in charge, Gary, looks at you with an ‘are you sure?’ expression on his face, but you only continue with the order, confirming that, yes, you are sure. Then you and Connor sit next to each other in silence, waiting for your food to be ready. You pretend to be very interested in a stain on one of the back menus for about three straight minutes.

“Here you go,” Gary hands you the food. You take the bags and speed off immediately to an umbrella by the place. Even though you’re essentially powerwalking at about 6 miles per hour, it doesn’t feel fast enough in the moment. Connor is right there beside you the whole time.

“Here’s your fries,” you mutter, pushing the bowl towards him.

“Thank you,” he says, formally. Then Connor just stares down into the bowl.

“I appreciate you paying for this meal, Doctor L/N,” Connor decides to say after another moment. When you look up, you can see he’s leaning down ever so slightly so that he’s closer to your height, and making pretty sturdy eye contact. It’s moments like this that you think you’re talking to Connor’s social programming, and probably not him naturally.

“You don’t have to call me Doctor, Connor,” you breathe. “We’re not at work right now.”

“I apologize. How would you like me to address you then?”

“Well... how would you like to address me?”

Connor thinks for a moment. You can tell because his led is switching between yellow and white. Then the beginning of his eyebrows start twitching, along with the corners of his mouth, just like a human would when they have several thoughts on the tip of their tongue but none of them seem just right. It’s cute when he does it.

“You can just call me Y/N,” you rush out in an attempt to save Connor from quite possibly exploding.

He does the twitching once more, then looks up to the top of the umbrella without moving his head. “And, is this outside of the workplace or in it as well?”

“What would you prefer?”

His led goes yellow again. He looks back to you. “That depends whether or not you consider us friends, Doctor L/N.”

This takes you back. You’re silent, stunned, looking at him with slightly widened eyes for a few seconds- maybe a whole minute- before you make the decision to look at your burger and change the subject.

“How’s been adjusting to life as a free man?” you ask, unwrapping the foil from your warm food.

Connor adapts to the subject change after a few seconds, and you know that he’s seen right through you. “It’s strange,” he tells you, deep in thought, but sincere. “But, people seem happy.”

“Are you happy?” you prompt further, biting a big bite into the meat.

Connor thinks again. He thinks a lot. “Yes,” he decides. “I suppose I feel alive,” he admits. It sounds like a confession, and when he turns his head to look over to you, he sees your eyes are already on him. “Are you happy?”

“Am I happy?” you repeat in question. “I... guess I am, overall.”

“Do you enjoy working as a criminal and forensic expert?”

Now it’s your turn to think. You swallow down your bite. “Yeah, I think so. It’s what I’ve wanted for a long time. And now I have it, and I’m comfortable and all. So yes... And you? As a detective?” You bite into the burger again.

“Well, it is what I was created for,” Connor tells you, with an almost charismatic, joking tone. It looks like he’s smiling a little, too. Cute. “I think so. Working with Lieutenant Anderson has gotten better.”

“God, I remember when you first came in,” you roll your eyes. “Hank was all in a mood. One of the grouchiest days for him. But he likes you now.”

Connor watches you pull the burger away from your face. He’s thinking again, but also admiring your features from up close. He doesn’t usually get to do this with you. The proof is in the lack of response to the ��would you consider us friends?’ question.

“You know,” Connor says, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice for the millionth time. “I really admire how talented you are in your line of work.”

You feel heat in not just your cheeks, but in the rest of your face as well, as if you have a very sudden fever. You decide to keep your face down, trying to naturally make it not look like you’re using your burger as a shield. “Thank you,” you respond.

The heat begins to subside, so you look back up to him. “I admire your...” and you can’t finish the sentence. Not because you can’t think of anything to admire. You know you had a good one in mind to say to him. But when you look up at his boyish face, with the innocent smile and the comforting eyes and the most human details in his skin, you lose your train of thought.

It seems too late and rude to continue by the time you regain it, so you just decide to leave it and eat your burger as quickly as possible.

“Are you done with your fries?” you ask, as Connor looks down at the untouched basket.

“Yes, thank you.”

You don’t even look into the waste of 2 dollars as you speed walk to the trash can and dump it full of everything. Then you hop across the street, Connor right behind you.

Getting back into Hank’s car makes you roll your eyes. It’s not that you’re mad with Connor anymore so much- not that you would describe the feeling as mad in the first place. You’re not even sure you’re ‘mad’ at Hank so much anymore. It’s more like you’re in the area that you previously had a yelling match in, so all that energy is still there. So stupid.

“Hey, you two,” Hank greets, though to you it sounds condescending.

“Hello,” Connor chirps back.

You just shoot Hank a glare.

“How was lunch?” The old man prompts, holding your eye contact knowingly the entire time.

“It was fine,” you tell him.

“Fine?”

“Yeah,” you practically seethe. “Just fine.”

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

You stay in your house for another two days. Sleeping has become far more difficult, though you’d never openly admit it. Hank can see it in your face. There’s dark circles under your eyes, far more noticeable than before. Your eyes are dragging themselves down, along with the rest of your body which seems to be in a constant slump.

You’re like a zombie. You’re just carrying yourself around, mindlessly doing your tasks while you try not to nod off at work. Hank hasn’t said anything. He just watches you from afar, not knowing how to apologize because he’s never been able to pull himself into one.

Connor hasn’t said anything either. Hank’s pet has continued his daily routines around the precinct, going where he’s told and sitting on the other side of the older man. You haven’t been observing them much lately. Been a bit too preoccupied with the threat of sleep paralysis to do anything that you find matters in a social sense.

Carla’s case is still open. Her boyfriend is still out there, watching and waiting. Maybe for you. Maybe for some other innocent woman. You keep picturing him towering over you, his shoulders looming, strong jaw twitching with anger. Those masculine brows, defined with the intent to strike at you. Kill you, like your old friend.

Finally, on the fourth day of little to know sleep, you fell asleep at your desk. Completely zonked out, your head slumped against the surface, squishing your cheek in the process. Connor jumped up from his seat, Hank following shortly after. But there was no threat, you were simply resting. Once the two realized this, they calmed a little. Hank opted to send Connor over to you to check you out, crossing his arms as he got ready to observe.

The Android creeps over. Your breathing is steady. So is your heartrate. You’re not in shock or anything at all. You’re not even hurt.

“Y/N?” he prompts lightly, now crouched to be close enough to your ear so he can whisper. His chocolate eyes glance around the precinct, looking for anyone who might have noticed you to try and save you some embarrassment. Then he glances towards the Captain in his office, and he knows he has to hurry himself so you don’t get caught and reprimanded.

“Doctor L/N?”

No response. Connor looks back at Hank, who shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly with little help.

“Doctor L/N, you have to wake up,” he tells you, poking the back of your slumped shoulder.

You were asleep, yes, but apparently not very deeply. You stir from your slumber, raising your head and your mousy appearance to look over at Connor with confused eyes.

“What happened?” you strain, stretching. Connor detects a bit of drool on the corner of your lips.

“You fell asleep at work,” Connor explains slowly.

“I did?” you squint, obviously still out of it.

“You have... drool on your lips.”

You wipe the left corner. “The other side,” Connor gestures lightly to his own lips. “Yes. You got it.”

“Was I out for long?” you look around, adjusting to the so very bright lights of the building.

“No,” Connor answers in that sweet, sweet voice of his. “Maybe a minute, or two.”

“Oh,” you say, your eyes wandering around.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

That night, it rains.

Thunder echoes, with ripples of light from the lightning that bears across the sky like great claw hands.

You watch the view out your window from the middle of your bed for a long time. You’re curled up in a ball on the blankets, not even under them. You’re just there, watching the sky that reflects in your eyes.

A sudden stir in you gives you a change of heart. Something you can’t explain to the fullest extent, something not even I, the one in charge of relaying all that’s happening to you, could explain the exact feeling. It’s like the snapping of a rubber band at 2:15 in the morning.

You can’t stay in this apartment anymore. Not even two locks are enough to protect you. Not your kitchen knives, or the gun given to you from the department for self defense. None of it seems like enough, because all of those things are used after something happens. They don’t prevent it.

You’re in a hurry. The comfiest pajamas you own are soaked in the salty rain water and protected only by the simplest of winter coats you own. It’s nice, though not appropriate for the current weather of course. Your hair gets drenched fast. Every individual drip that falls from the tip of your nose is felt, like you’re more hyperaware than usual.

Now you’ve arrived at a house. A one story, fairly inexpensive home with a garage and recognizable old car out front. As you approach, you can already hear the barking of a dog, see a neighbor turn their lights on briefly to observe you, and feel the shivering of your knuckles as they tap on the door sporadically.

Come on, Hank, you think. Please protect me. Please do this for me.

And, believe me, Hank Anderson would’ve done it had he been awake. But he hadn’t been, and so he didn’t answer the door. Instead, the door swings open, and inside you see an Android.

A tall one, with soft facial features. He has long, dark eyelashes framing dark eyes, surrounded by dark hair. He’s clean and clear cut, very put together. It’s Connor, Hank’s pet that you’ve never been able to get the hang of knowing. And he’s as shocked as you are.

Your drenched hair, shivering body, distant look in your eyes. Though, Connor’s unsure of how he would appear if he had to show up to anyone’s house at 2:34am. Probably unwell. Probably a little bit like you.

“Doctor L/N,” he says, though it seems mostly to himself. His parched lips barely move, though you notice how pink they look in comparison to everything else right now.

“Can I come in?”

Connor is still for a few seconds, obviously still processing your appearance. For what, you don’t know. Must’ve been one of the few things he’s simply unable to calculate. But then he moves himself to the side, and you carry yourself in.

As soon as the door closes behind you, everything is so much warmer. You haven’t been to Hank’s place in months, but it still feels as homey as it did before. It’s cleaner than it was a year ago. There’s more pictures on the walls, more clutter lining the shelves. He’s starting to care about things again. That’s good.

“What are you doing here?” you suddenly ask, turning around to face Connor.

That’s right- what is he doing here? He and Hank couldn’t be living together, could they? Or is... or is it that Hank is pretending Connor is someone else, too?

Connor’s led goes yellow, then blue, then back to yellow. “Lieutenant Anderson has offered me a place to stay until I’m ready to go on myself,” he explains, though the way it looks at you makes it seem like Connor doesn’t want to tell you this. Like he feels the need to explain himself.

“Are you alright, Y/N?”

You wipe your face, smearing your leftover makeup from your eye with the rain water. It burns, but you can’t feel it over the cold. “I uh- um... I’ve been having trouble- trouble sleeping.”

Connor’s lips close, and he looks at you in understanding as you stand there, now feeling your own pressure of having to explain yourself.

“Just like... at my place I can’t- can’t sleep. Not a lot of it.”

Connor knows he shouldn’t, but it’s right there on the very tip of his tongue. It’s so close to just spilling out, until finally it does, all at once. He’s too curious to try and stop it. “Why?”

“I just- I can’t-”

You’re looking everywhere. The floor, the wall, covering your eyes with your arm or your hand, shifting back and forth between feet, making a soggy spot on the floor from your dripping clothes.

“Can’t sleep.”

When you look up to Connor again, you feel better. Still panicked, but like you’re not in trouble. His eyes are so soft. They’re so human, and comforting. He looks at you like he understands, and like he’s not upset. You can see why Hank would pretend he is who he is now. But there’s no one for you to pretend who Connor is. He’s just Connor. And he’s better than you.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

Connor lets you wear one of his sets of identical clothes. It’s a grey t-shirt and blue pajama pants. Your hair is still wet, but Connor doesn’t say anything. He lets you sit on the couch and watch one of Hank’s basketball recordings while he goes to make tea.

He brings it to you and sets it down on the coffee table in front, but like days ago, you can’t bring yourself to touch it. Connor’s made himself a cup too, but doesn’t drink it. It’s deadly silent, the only light coming from the faint glow of the tv, the only sound coming from the biases of those annoying sports commentators.

“Connor?” you whisper hoarsely, turning your body to face him.

He looks over at you, at full attention. Such a soft boy.

“Do you think I’m afraid of anything?”

Connor’s led goes yellow. It flickers in circles until finally he says, “What do you mean, Y/N?”

You look down at your hands. “W-when I try to sleep, I see someone,” you say, not bearing to look at anyone from that gender for a moment. “He never leaves me alone. I feel like I- like I’m seeing this thing everywhere. I can’t avoid it. It won’t leave me alone.”

“What is it?” Connor prods gently, leaning in in that innocent, but curious way he does.

You open your mouth like you’re going to answer, but then your mouth goes dry. Instead, you just shrug your shoulders in a weak attempt of lying.

“Um... why are you still awake?” you ask instead.

“Androids don’t need to sleep,” Connor explains to you. “We just power down to conserve energy, but I don’t need as much as others.”

A light puff of air escapes your nose in time with the flickering of the corners of your lips. “Sounds like you’re bragging,” you tease for a second.

Then it goes quiet.

“I don’t think you’re scared of anything,” you hear Connor’s voice say clearly. “At least, not that I’ve seen. You’re very diligent in your work.”

You take the compliment. It warms your chest for a moment, but the pit inside you is not so easily gotten rid of.

Your nails scrape against each other, breaking while you pick at one of your index fingers. “I think I have like... this fear of men. Fear of something.”

Connor’s led goes yellow.

“Androphobia, also known as the fear of male presences, affects nearly one third of the current female population.”

Connor watches you continue to pick at your nails. The memory of you standing at the door step, shivering like a kitten, drowning in the rain water stays on his mind. “Is this what you think you have, Y/N?” he asks, though this time it’s far more soft.

It sounds like he really cares.

You look up to him, your eyes glossing over from stress and the incoming wave of tears you can feel in the back of your throat.

“I can assure you, Doctor L/N, you are safe here,” Connor continues, holding eye contact as he speaks. “I won’t let any kind of harm get to you.”

The tears in your eyes seem less violent now. Like they’re disappearing already. And that’s how the story ends, in fact. With you, looking up at Connor, seated on Hank’s couch with your hair dripping around you- him promising not to hurt you. It ends on the silence that follows, right between the stare the two of you share.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

This is the first thing I’ve proof read. Also one of the longest things I’ve written somehow? It was fun. I apologize for any mistakes as English is not my first language.

1K notes · View notes

forsworned · 2 years

Text

three...

r e n e w e d l o v e

warnings. angst, fluff

word count. 3,9k

categories. f/m

relationships. modernau! tengen uzui x reader, boss!kyoujurou renguko x reader

characters. tengen uzui, kyoujurou renguko

chapters . one two

author’s note. the last chapter in my tengen mini series i hope you enjoy !!

After Kyoujurou had driven out of sight, you and Tengen were off to the nearest bar and rushed inside to find the quickest booth and settled in. You put your bag beside you as you took out your phone and a notebook.

"Two shots of tequila, please." Tengen held out two fingers to the waiter and she nodded at him.

"Whoa, whoa. Who said we're drinking?" You grimaced at him, but he looked dumbfounded at your question.

"Are you serious? We both need this. " He peered over at what you were beginning to do and pointed at your notebook with his chin. "So, what are you doing?"

"I'm trying to recall the last few things that we wrote down and I took some pics before Kyoujurou took away our work." You replied as you scribbled down at your notebook.

"Yeah, we're not exactly geniuses for only using paper over google docs."

You snorted. "Right? But it's not like we were 100% today, so I don't blame us too much."

"Still though,"Tengen began and you looked at him from your notes. "You really have a knack for cramming and getting things done as quickly as possible."

You quickly averted our gaze back to your work to cover the small smile he somehow managed to put on your face.

"Was that a smile?" He teased trying to get a good gander at you, but you were saved by the shots.

Your waiter had set down two shot glasses in front of you with lime wedges and some salt. "Oh, thank God."

You were quick to make work of putting the salt on your hand and Tengen was astonished at your sudden decision.

"I thought you weren't going to drink!" He laughed as he took the salt shaker from your hand.

"It's like you said before, we deserve it!" You gestured out your hand to him for you guys to start together. He grinned at you as he got his hand prepped.

"Damn, right. Ready?"

You nodded with glee and the moment you heard him say "Go!", you both licked the part where your thumb and pointer finger met and downed the shot. It felt like fire liquid going straight down your throat, but you toughed it out as you squeezed the lime into your mouth and then pounded at your chest as you choked out. Tengen's mirth filled your ears as you chased it down with water. You kicked him under the table and but that didn't stop him from nearly falling out of his booth.

"I forgot you don't drink!" He laughed again and you gave him an annoyed look.

"Shut up. It's not my thing." You took another sip of your water as Tengen's laughter died down.

"I'm sorry. We should probably get this done, huh?"

Fortunately, for the both of you, from what you scrapped together you were able to write out the rest of the details from the project that you both told Kyoujurou that you had retired from from the night. For some reason though, you thought that the perfect way to celebrate was get super wasted. And by wasted, I mean you were only two shots in and you were nearly blacking out, slurring over your words and not able to walk. But like the gentleman Tengen was, he carried you out of the bar with your arm slung around his shoulder.

"[name], you need to walk." He giggled drunkenly at you.

"Pfffft, you can carry me, Uzui!" You proclaimed as you pressed all your weight onto him. He shook his head as he waved over a taxi and it stopped in front of the both of you. He struggled to get you into the seats and buckle you up, because you were wriggling like a worm thinking it was funny if you didn't comply.

"Everson Avenue, please." Tengen told the cab driver. You groaned at the name and your face contorted into disgust.

"You still live there?"

Tengen cocked an eyebrow at you. "Yeah, it's nice neighborhood."

"Whateverrrrr." You slurred. Your eyes were beginning to droop and before you knew it you were passed out against the window. Tengen shook his head as he propped your head against his shoulder to which you drunkenly snuggled into him. Tengen smiled at you as he gently caressed your face and watched as you snoozed away. Of course, he had to risk you waking up and possibly causing a commotion but he didn't mind. He was happy to have spent the night getting drunk with you, well you drunk, him tipsy and just having fun like old times. Before everything went to shit, before work took over his life and he felt himself distancing himself from you because he told himself "it was easier this way". What a pathetic lie. He knew that he was falling deeply, madly in love with you and it scared him to death.

He couldn't let himself fall for you and then you inevitably breaking his heart leaving him shattered into a million tiny pieces. He hated that he did that to you. Not only because he knew that it hurt you so much inside, but because he was hurting himself too. He was selfish, but that was all in the past. He was going to make it up to you no matter what. He reached into the inner pocket of his blazer and took out a small velvet book and flicked it open.

The vintage ring with your birthstone beautifully encrusted in a teardrop shape sat perfectly in place.

"Just a little longer, Tengen."

"Right here, sir." He held out his hand to stop the car and he fished out his wallet to hand the driver a hefty tip. "Keep the change and have a good night, sir."

The driver graciously thanked him as Tengen waved goodbye at him and gathered you in his arms. You were most definitely passed the fuck out and you were not waking up any time soon. Tengen lifted you on top of his shoulder as he unlocked his door and quietly entered your once shared apartment. It was a little sad remembering all the awful memories that you both created, but they weren't all bad. This was where you had many firsts together and Tengen's head flooded with memories of you nearly burning down the place trying to make cookies. He chuckled to himself as he laid your limp body on the bed and began to tuck you under the sheets.

He went to the kitchen to grab ibuprofen and a tall glass of water and put it on his night stand. A sigh emitted from his lips as he brushed his fingers against your face and felt himself leaning towards your lips but he stopped himself. That was wrong. He wanted you to be awake and fully aware of when your lips met again. He stepped away from the edge of the bed and began to get ready for bed and changing into his pajamas and pulling out the couch to respect your space. As he began to shut the lights to let you fully rest he heard you shift in bed and grumble incoherently. He just shook his head and began to walk out of the bedroom towards the living room, that was until you said something as clear as day.

"I love you, Tengen."

He froze as he held the door knob in his hand. Yup, there was no mistaking those words. You definitely said that. For some reason, it made Tengen fist at his clothes and began to sob quietly. He knew that you didn't deserve someone as shitty as him. Scratch that. That used to be him. He was a new man with a new perspective and he had one goal in mind and that was you. He planned on being with you for the rest of his life and he would spend every waking moment making it up to you.

Tengen left the door a crack open as he slid into his pull out couch and lay there for a moment as he looked at the kitchen. The memory of you two dancing in the kitchen to Taylor Swift flitted before his very eyes and he smiled fondly at the recollection.

"Soon." Was all he whispered to himself before he closed his eyes and finally fell asleep.

It was as if he blinked and it was morning. The hustle and bustle of the neighborhood already in full motion as he got up to go to the restroom. He found that you were still passed out and he chuckled softly at you before starting his morning routine and making breakfast for two.

He looked at his watch as he flipped pancakes on his griddle.

6:26AM

Kyoujurou had expected the both of you in the office in an hour so, unfortunately Tengen had to wake you up from your deep slumber. He stacked some pancakes onto a plate along with some eggs and a cup of tea on a tray and made his way to the room you were in.

"Good morning, sunshine." He cooed. You groaned at his voice and watched as you scrunched your face that was disturbed by the rays of the sun peaking through the blinds.

"What the?" You opened your eyes as your face contorted in confusion watching Tengen strut into your room with a tray of breakfast. "Why are you in my room?"

He smiled at you as he set the tray down and you sat up and whined at the pounding headache from last night's shenanigans. "Well, it can be your room again if you want."

You looked at him again, before the realization hit you. You were in your old apartment that you shared with him years ago. "Why--"

"You were passed the hell out, so I brought you here." He explained as he handed you two pills and the glass of water. You took it from him and chugged it immediately. "Down the hatchet it goes."

You grimaced at him and he chortled at you in amusement. "Well, thank you..."

You were embarrassed that you let yourself go that much especially in front of him, but for some reason you hadn't felt all that humiliated. Tengen had seen you at your lowest moments so this wasn't so bad.

"Of course. Now, get ready."

"But, I don't have anything with me." You said to him in a panic as he walked over to the closet and pulled out clothes and handed them to you

"You forgot to take these with you." You looked at him flabbergasted. You couldn't believe that he had kept your clothes for that long.

"Why?"

"Do you really not get it, [name]?" He questioned as he stripped off his shirt and revealed his bare chest to which you averted your gaze to the clothing in your hands. It was an old but nice vintage navy sweater that he had purchased for you, because he thought it suited your eyes and a pair of slacks you were had been looking everywhere for.

"I'll tell you as many times as you need to hear it. I have made it my priority to get you back."

You laughed humorously. " Whatever, Tengen."

"Suit yourself." He replied as he took off his pants and this time you were not looking away. His briefs hugged his lower body nicely but just as you were getting to goods he was instantly covered. He turned around to see that you were still sitting there in yesterday's clothes and it was now 6:45.

"Are you just gonna sit there and gawk at how sexy I am or are you gonna change? The way there is like ten minutes plus an additional ten to fifteen with traffic."

"Okay!" You exclaimed as your fidgeted with the sweater in your hand. "Can you..."

Tengen exhaled as he looked over at your sudden discomfort. "Yeah, I'll be in the car. Don't take too long."

You watched as Tengen quickly dipped out of the room taking his bag with him and you heard the front door open and shut. You hugged the clothing tightly to your chest as you looked around the room. It was like nothing had been touched except for the picture frame on your nightstand. It was gone and that made you feel like a stranger in a place you had once called home. You began to get out of the bed and the bed dipped under your weight causing a pillow to drop to floor. As you picked it up, you noticed that something had fell out and when you picked it up to analyze it, you had realized that it was the picture that you thought was gone forever.

It was you and Tengen at the state fair with a huge teddy bear that he had promised you he would win you that night and if he did you had to agree to go out on a date with him. You both looked so young. Freshmen in college. Those were the good days. Just then you heard the horn blare outside and you saw Tengen's head pop out from his car.

"[Name] get it moving already!"

You quickly put the photo away back in its original place and quickly got ready for your stressful day. It was going to be a whirlwind of anxiety and heightened tension.

* * *Stepping out of the meeting with bright smiles on your faces including the entirety of the board was all that you wanted to see. You and Tengen quietly fist bumped as you watched the CEO Kagaya Ubuyashiki speak to Kyoujurou with a content smile plastered on his kind visage. He was more than elated with your finished project and Kyoujurou looked like he was going to explode into happiness any moment now.

"We did good." You murmured as you watched your bosses interact.

"We did great." Tengen smiled down at you. You bit your lip as you watched Kyoujurou walk out with Mr. Ubuyashiki and you two followed behind as you waved good bye.

"I'm so pleased to see that you two have created such an astounding proposal. I look forward to meeting you both soon."

"The pleasure is all ours." You chorused. You two shared a look and it made Mr.Ubuyashiki stop for a moment to look at you two.

"Say, you two weren't at a bar last night were you? Evan's bar on 35th?" He tilted his head to the side analyzing you both.

Kyoujurou waited as the both of you answered as he crossed his arms.

"N-no sir! We both went straight home after work." You stammered. Tengen wanted to face palm so badly in that moment but he resisted the urge.

"Huh, strange. I thought I did. I was thinking that you two looked like that lovely couple from the bar I was at with some colleagues. Reminded me of my wife and I when we were younger. Oh, how time flies." The dark haired man looked like he was in another place for a moment before he shifted back into reality. "Well, we'll be seeing more of each other soon. Take care."

As you said your goodbye's and waited for every car to be out of sight, Kyoujurou turned to the both of you with an uncharacteristically straight face. His lips were pressed into a thin line as he crossed his arms. Oh, you two were really in for it.

"Bar? Evan's Bar on 35th? Last night?" Kyoujurou's voice got louder after every question. You two gulped as you anticipated some form of punishment, but he just suspired.

"You two..." He began to chuckle to himself. "I thought I told you two to relax."

"We know we just--" You began, but it was futile.

"We're sorry." You and Tengen said in utter defeat.

"Ahh, it's quite alright." Kyoujurou smiled his usual smile at the both of you and ruffled your hair.

"So, you're not mad?" You asked looking at him.

Kyoujurou only sighed. "No, but I will be if you two don't get home and relax for the rest of the weeked. No work." He pointed to the both of you. "I mean it."

"You got it, boss!" Tengen cheered.

"That's something we can agree upon." You sighed and smiled. You wanted nothing more than to just sleep the day away.

"Well, good work you two. I'll see you guys monday so rest up!" He patted the both of you on the shoulder and you gave your goodbyes until you started to absentmindedly walk back to your apartment.

That is until Tengen stopped you in your tracks.

"Hey," He grabbed your arm to which you sleepily turned to look at him. A small smile on his lips thinking about how cute you looked. "Let me drive you back. You look like you're gonna pass out any moment now."

You didn't say anything in response. Just simply walked with him to his car and quietly entered the passenger seat. The short drive was in complete silence with Tengen looking over at you between moments until he pulled up to your complex.For some reason you remained in your seat and you were beginning to question why you weren't getting out just yet, but something was telling you to stay.

"We did good today. Thanks to you." He said breaking the silence. Your ears perked up at his voice.

You chuckled. "Actually, you were the one helping me out. So in the grand scheme of things it was you who really saved our asses."

"Well, actually if you remember last night, you were the one who ended up saving our asses with your incredible cramming skills." He countered smiling at you.You felt your heart swell when you looked over at him.

"Yeah, about last night..."Tengen began to feel hopeful remembering how last night when you said you loved him in your sleep or maybe you weren't.

"Did I say anything embarrassing?" You bit your lip in anticipation. You didn't want to admit it, but you knew exactly what you had said last night. Bits and fragments from last night had invaded your thoughts in the meeting, but you somehow managed to keep your cool.

Tengen softly sighed and averted his gaze downwards. "Yeah, you told me that you loved me."

"Oh."

You couldn't deny your feelings any longer. I mean you did very much love Tengen and well inhibitions were low and it just slipped out. Being back at your old place just brought back old feelings in a small rush of drunkness.

"I guess I would be lying if I said I didn't." You murmured fidgeting with your fingers.

"Really?" His voice was hopeful and elated and it tugged at your heart strings.You stayed silent for a moment. Your lips quivered wanting so badly to say yes until Tengen's warm calloused hand was ontop of your own. "You don't have to answer right now. I don't want to rush things."

You rested your free hand on his now and he looked up at you with glistening ruby hues. "I do really love you, Tengen. I never really stopped."

He was left speechless by your sudden warmth, but for the first time in years things felt right all over again. An abrupt rush of nostagia surged through his body as he remembered when he first spoke to you after you had accidentally called him and confessed to him. Well, not to him. You had called him thinking he was your crush and well, things had only unraveled from there. The moment that he had first laid eyes on you in person for your first date was like something out of a dream and the chemistry was otherworldly, but over time he grew apart from you feeling that he was falling for you too hard.It was no excuse to have pushed you like that.

"I'm sorry. I pushed you away. I was--I am still so in love with you. I couldn't stand the notion of you leaving me and crushing my heart into a billion tiny pieces, so I pushed you away. I know its not right but--"

You cut him off with your lips pressing against his own. You felt tears cascade down your cheeks as you molded your lips together and he immediately kissed you back. His hands raking through your hair as you scrambled to get your hands on each other until your pulled away for a moment.

"Wait." You spoke suddenly.

He breathed out catching his breath. "What? What's wrong?"

"What's the end game of this? Like what is the point of this? You're saying all of this for, for what?" You searched his face for an answer and he only smiled at you. "What's with that grin?"

"Get out of the car."

"Excuse me?"

He chuckled. "Just for a second."

You raised your eyebrow at him and picked up your bag and exited his car.

"Okay, now what?"

"Now turn around."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Please." He gave you a cute pout and you rolled your eyes obliging to his whims.

"And now what?"

He didn't answer you and you folded your arms in annoyance. "Hello?"

"Okay, now turn back around."

And when you did, you saw him on one knee with a small velvet box opened to reveal a beautiful ring that you could only assume was an engagement ring. But not just any engagement ring. The one that had been on his mother's finger that had been passed down for generations that was encased in a special part of his old home after her passing. You always mentioned how beautiful it was and he always caught you staring at it when you would come over before the two of you decided to move out.

You felt your hands cover your mouth.

"[name], I know we haven't been together in over two years and we just recently reunited and not exactly on the best terms, but ever since I had heard of your homecoming I couldn't stop thinking about you. I visited my dad's home and I found myself looking at my mother's old ring and how it would look on your finger and ever since then that's all that's been on my mind. I know I fucked up big time, but I am ready to spend the rest of my life with you if you're willing to. So, will you marry me [name], and do me the honor of being Mrs.Uzui?"

You felt yourself choking on your own tears and only nodded. "Y-yes!"

He immediately rose from the ground and lifted you from the ground and placed his lips on your salty tear stained ones. He couldn't describe how jubilant he was in that moment. Just knowing that you were his again and forever at that. He never wanted to let you go.

"Oh, let me put the ring on!" He set you down and the smile on your face was evergrowing as you watched him slip it onto your finger.

"It's literally so gorgeous." You murmured eyeing it as the gems glimmered beautifully as they caught in the sunlight.

"Yes, but you're even more beautiful, Mrs. Uzui." He softly smiled at you as he brushed away the strands in front of your face. You felt yourself fluster under his gaze.

"It's about damn time." You gazed up at him playfully and he pulled your close to him and captured your lips with his own.You pushed him back slightly and he looked puzzled. "Don't you dare fucking leave me. Got it?"

His lips parted into a large grin as he pulled you in again. Your lips parting greedily for his. "I'd never dream of it. You're mine forever, [name]."

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mystic-writings · 2 years

Text

REMEMBER THE NIGHTS | saturday

SUMMARY: After spending her Saturday at Newt and Sonya's house for a photography project, Y/n thinks long and hard about things, and comes to a terrifying - and semi-delightful - realization.

WORD COUNT: 1,546

WARNINGS: sleepy Newt, overthinking (the good kind)

NOTE: this one's shorter/a filler chapter but is also somehow extremely important??

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

EVER SINCE YOUR TRIP to New York, a few weeks ago, your mind has felt a little… scrambled. The feeling of being able to see your friends again, to spend the afternoon with them and to share some of your favorite things about the city with Newt was ecstatic.

You were happy to come back to your everyday life, though. The Monday after your return, a group assignment was announced in your photography class. It wasn’t too difficult. The pairs were drawn up by Ms. Porter, and gave everyone two weeks to finish it. All you and your partner - who, almost coincidentally, was Sonya - had to do was research a type of photography and do a photoshoot, ending with at least four properly edited photos to submit.

That led you to today, as you stood on the front porch of Sonya and Newt’s house, knocking on the door. You both agreed that today would be strictly for research and making an inspiration board, so it was safe to say that yours and Sonya’s weekend would be pretty relaxing.

Speaking of, the girl opened the door with a smile on her face, beckoning you inside. When you stepped past the threshold, you noticed how quiet it seemed to be. As Sonya led you through the house and into the living room, she told you, “We’ve got pretty much the whole house to ourselves. My mom’s working a shift at the hospital until 7, and Newt’s still asleep.”

You nodded. You’d almost forgotten that their mother was a nurse at the hospital, but the siblings had only ever mentioned it once or twice. As for Newt, you weren’t surprised. According to Thomas, his sleeping habits were the reason why he didn’t hang out with the others before the late afternoon during the weekends.

As you sat down on the surprisingly comfortable couch, placing your school bag by your feet, Sonya told you that she’d be back in a few minutes with her laptop and a few snacks. Their house had a similar layout to yours, with a kitchen off to the left of the front door, the living room on the right, almost all open concept. Instead of the stairs being beside the kitchen, they were against the back wall, and you could see a back deck outside the sliding door similar to Brenda’s.

You figured you’d at least get started, pulling out your laptop and letting it load before grabbing a notebook and a pen to make your planning easier. As you flipped to an empty page and opened the search engine, Sonya came back in, carrying two bowls of fruit, her laptop tucked under her arm. You noticed her slight struggle and took the bowls from her hands, placing them down on the coffee table before snagging a piece.

Sonya put her laptop on the couch beside you and jogged back into the kitchen, returning with two water bottles. After cracking yours open and taking a sip, you put it on the coffee table near the fruits and turned to the blonde girl.

“I was thinking we could pick out a few of our favorite types of photography and then narrow it down,” Sonya suggested, “we’ll just take a look at some photos from each one for inspiration, and then go from there.”

You nodded, writing down her idea just in case you forgot. “Sounds good. We could start with nature photography. It’s one of the easier ones, since we have so much of it around us.”

With confirmation from the girl, you opened up a doc on your computer. The two of you gathered a bunch of photos, compiling a sort of inspiration board for the style and making jot notes on both paper and on the doc, of kinds of pictures you could take or locations you could use.

This, of course, went on for the better part of an hour. As you worked on your third type, heavy footsteps thumped down the stairs, drawing yours and Sonya’s attention from your computers as you both leaned over the back of the couch.

Newt thumped down the stairs wearing a plain white shirt that seemed to be so faded it could barely count as white anymore, and slightly oversized blue plaid pajama pants. There were indents on his arm from the way he had slept, and his hair was untamed, sticking up every which way. He was still squinting, his face was pulled into a definitive frown as his body was still waking up. He scratched his scalp as he reached the bottom, shuffling his way into the kitchen, where he grabbed a box of cereal and began pulling out handfuls, shoving them into his mouth.

You bit back a laugh as he carried the box outside the kitchen, wanting to make his way back upstairs. There was no denying that, even though you were sure no one should look as cute as they did after just waking up, Newt managed to pull it off. The thought caught you off guard, and you did your best to calm the heat burning your cheeks and neck.

Sonya, whose face bore a mischievous smile, called out, “Nice to see you’ve woken up from your coma.”

Newt jumped, nearly sending the cereal clutched in his hand flying across the hardwood floor. “Bloody hell! Sonya, what the hell were you-” he turned, finding you sitting next to his sister. You laughed as his eyes widened.

Lifting your hand from the couch, you wiggled your fingers with a smile. “Hey,”

“What are you doing here, exactly?”

“Group project.” Sonya answered for you. Newt seemed to take it, nodding before continuing his journey back up the stairs.

You turned back to your computer, as did Sonya, but Newt’s departure only seemed to make things worse. Without his presence, your mind allowed itself to think more about his appearance, as well as your initial thoughts when you saw him. It kept running in circles, bouncing from what happened just now back to what your friends told you a few weeks ago.

“Y/n? Y/n?” Sonya called, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Hm?”

She laughed, “I said we’re pretty much done. Just a few more photos and ideas and we can pick this up again on Monday.”

“Oh,” you nodded. “Okay. Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Are you okay? You zoned out for a bit there.” You watched Sonya raise an eyebrow, her features pulling into a slight frown.

You nodded, adjusting the computer on your lap. “Yeah, I’m fine, don’t worry. I’m just thinking about something I gotta do when I get home.”

You felt bad about lying to Sonya, especially because of how caring she was, but there was no way you were going to tell her that you were thinking about her brother. So, you dived back into your work, digging up whatever photos caught your eye and pasting them into the doc, letting Sonya give feedback whenever she pleased.

When you finished, you helped Sonya with the bowls of fruit, thanking her when she put what was left of it into a container for you to snack on later. You promised you’d bring it back to her Monday morning, and she smiled at you before walking you to the door, where you said your goodbyes.

The walk back to your place was filled with the distraction of music, both your headphones filling your head with your favorite songs as you enjoyed the cooling air that came with New York Octobers.

When you finally got home, you quickly checked on Chuck, finding that he was still asleep before heading upstairs. You knew that your dad and Maggie went into the city, since your dad had a meeting and Maggie wanted to go with him. Thomas was out with Minho and Gally, so you were in the clear to spend the day lounging around.

Rushing up the stairs, you dropped your bag by your desk and closed your door, exhaling through your mouth and resting your forehead on the wood. The only thing you could manage to think of was Newt, and it was starting to become overwhelming. You thought over every single detail of every memory you had of the boy since the two of you met in the parking lot, every word spoken, every gesture made.

You wondered why he even went through the trouble of arranging a meeting with your friends and taking you to see them, when he normally spent his Saturdays sleeping until noon. You thought about his hair, and how it always looked so perfect, even when it looked the way it did when you saw him earlier. You thought about his voice, the slight gravitas and occasional cadences, and how it was always so soothing to you.

You thought about his eyes, about how much he cared, how much he did for everyone, everything he went through just because of his father and still pulled through. You thought about every single thing you knew about him, physical or emotional. How adorable he was, no matter what he did. How honest and open he seemed to be, how he was quick to make jokes about his friends, and how he was so- oh.

Oh.

TAGLIST: @sunny-reys @ghostofscarley @badbatch-simp24 @xhenix @virginia-peters

#remember the nights #newt x reader #newt tmr x reader #newt x you #newt x y/n #newt series #newt tmr series #newt angst #newt fluff #the maze runner fanfiction #the maze runner x reader #au fic #high school au

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comfyswitcherblanketfort · 3 years

Text

Grunge-Metal Geralt 3

its finally time 😂 after months of staring at an empty google doc i finally had a useful idea - also y’all, go listen to ‘Brighter Side of Grey’ by Five Finger Death Punch bc that’s the song i based this on and its fire and i love it also all of ffdp is one whole witchery mood

Warnging: vague discussion of a car crash where Geralt was severely injured, big emotionaly vulnerability, swearing?, listen to the song then you’ll get the vibes i promise

__________________

“Give them a break, guys,” Eskel sighed as he wrote down his coffee order, “They had a close call. It’s not like they’re always this…”

“Gross. Skel. The word you’re looking for is gross.” Lambert snatched the paper out of his brother’s hand and stalked out of the room with Aiden in tow.

Jaskier scrunched his nose and called from where he was tucked under Geralt’s chin, “Did we drive them away? I can get up if it’s too much.” Even as he spoke, neither he nor Geralt so much as twitched to make good on the offer.

“Doesn’t bother me,” Eskel shrugged.

Lambert and Aiden, mainly Lambert, were getting fed up with Geralt and Jaskier cuddling and cooing and doing general new couple bullshit. Especially since they’d been together three years now. They were recording a collaboration song, meaning everyone had to be there, but it seemed the two vocalists only really cared about each other. Jaskier sat on Geralt’s lap, played with his hair, stole kisses whenever he could… at one point Lambert caught Geralt tracing Jaskier’s lips and forced a coughing fit to get his attention. He probably thought it was subtle, even if no one else did. So to take a break and get some of what he called ‘patience juice’ (coffee), Lambert ran to their favorite coffee shop while Eskel laid down his bass line.

It’s not that they were intentionally this annoying, not all the time at least. After the car crash, especially once Geralt started doing well in his physical therapy, the couple just couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Not to say that was the only relationship Geralt was suddenly extra involved in, it was just the most noticeable.

Finally, after tea and coffee was distributed to everyone it was time for Geralt and Jaskier to, well, do their jobs. Jaskier was fidgeting and humming little scales, doing anything to calm the sudden nerves he felt bubbling up in his stomach.

“You alright?” Geralt purred, nudging him with his elbow as they stood side by side at their respective microphones. When Jaskier only shrugged he continued, “What's wrong?”

“I’m just not used to so many people being here while I…” Jaskier motioned to the mic before glancing around him and taking a deep breath, “it’s a vulnerable song…”

Geralt’s worry lines in his forehead melted as he pulled Jaskier into his arms, “I can kick them out if you want?” he whispered.

Shaking his head and inhaling Geralt’s scent deeply, something Jaskier had learned not to take for granted, he steeled his nerves, “I’ll be fine. Maybe a little weepy, but fine.”

As they were about to start, listening to the instrumental track and humming their parts of the song, Lambert brought Jaskier a bottle of water and set it on his music stand. He gave him a quick side hug and kissed his hair, offering a small “sorry” for all his teasing. Jaskier just giggled in response, the kind that only bubbles over from too much anticipation. He missed it, but Geralt mouthed a small ‘thank you’ to Lambert as he sat back down on the other side of the glass.

Jaskier hooked his pinky around Geralt’s as the guitar intro started, needing that little bit of contact for the first line. When they’d written it it felt perfect. The audience knew exactly what kind of song they were about to hear and Geralt really hadn’t known if he would pull through. It took Jaskier right back to the dimly lit hospital room where he scrawled and scratched out lyrics to keep Geralt distracted from his upcoming surgery. The fear, the desperation, the little pockets of joy when they forgot where they were, the overwhelming love that Jaskier thought he’d never be able to fully give to Geralt all crept back up his throat as he took a breath for that stupid fucking first line.

His voice cracked partway through as he sang, making him fully grip Geralt’s hand, “I’m writing this in case I’m gone tomorrow,” By some miracle, he found his support for the next line, “I’m writing this in case I’ve moved along,”

For a moment he thought he’d gotten over the worst of it. A couple lines passed in relative ease, emotional but not so much it interfered with his craft. If he focused on looking at his microphone and keeping his breath supported he might make it through. Then Geralt joined him for the chorus.

“When the lights go down, Know that I am never far away. When the sun burns out, I’ll be waiting on the brighter side of grey.”

His harmony faltered and he involuntarily heaved a broken gasp in the middle of a line, desperately trying to focus on the mic that was now warped by the tears in his eyes.

Geralt broke off after the first word of his verse, turning to Jaskier and pulling him in again, “You alright, love?”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry,” Jaskier groaned in embarrassment as he clung to Geralt’s frame, “I’m being a baby. I wasn’t even the one hurt.”

“No you’re not,” Geralt argued, running his knuckles over Jaskier’s cheeks to wipe away his tears, “Here,” he moved their mics and stands close enough that they were shoulder to shoulder and their fingers could comfortably lace together.

Jaskier squeezed his hand gently and gave him a brave smile, “From the top?”

“From the top.”

This time Jaskier tried watching Geralt as they sang. He made it through the first chorus and got to just watch as Geralt sang his verse. The pang of emotion in his chest was still ever present, but it was manageable. Until he noticed Geralt having trouble.

On “All you get to keep is what you’ve shared,” Geralt squeezed his eyes closed and his grip on Jaskier’s hand tightened. The folk singer prepared, relaxed, readied himself to take a breath in. He was expecting that one to hurt after how much Geralt insisted upon it. How he threatened to get out of that hospital bed and scribble the line himself if Jaskier didn’t put it in. He wasn’t expecting the last line of the stanza to hurt. It had been comforting to the both of them at the time.

Geralt’s lip quivered and his voice was almost pinched as he sang out, “Remember no one ever really dies.”

Even being the one to write the melody, Jaskier missed the first three notes of the chorus, “Fuck. Shit. I’m so sorry.”

“No, that was on me,” Geralt sniffed and chuckled, “I knew you’d lose it if I did.”

“How do you do this?!” Jaskier exclaimed, chugging half the water bottle to keep the breakdown at bay.

Aiden’s voice came over their headphones, “Half our songs are his trauma and another quarter are group trauma. He’s got practice sweetheart.”

They tried a couple more times, even got through the whole song once with only minimal tears and one tasteful cracked note. But it was still a struggle for Jaskier to keep it together, and the more they sang, the more Geralt lost his iron grip on his composure.

“Look at me,” Jaskier instructed, moving Geralt to face him and adjusting their mics so they could sing to each other, “Just like when we wrote it. Except a little less pain.”

The joke earned a snort out of Geralt, exactly what Jaskier was aiming for, “This is supposed to be easier?”

“We can try?”

Jaskier did wonderfully for his verse, singing to Geralt was familiar and safe, even if the subject matter was terrifying. The chorus went well, but as soon as Geralt started to sing, Jaskier couldn’t exhale and it was all he could do not to sniff and ruin the take.

“If you’re hearing this I know you’re probly scared,” had tears falling down his cheeks again and Geralt’s voice cracked as his eyes welled up, “Nope,” he choked, “that’s worse. Much worse.”

“Fuck,” Jaskier gave a watery giggle as he wrapped his arms around Geralt’s middle, “Why did we decide to do this again?”

Geralt pressed a kiss to Jaskier’s hair, sniffling and holding him tight, “I think we’re sadists.”

“Back to back,” Eskel’s voice crackled in their ears, “Try it back to back.”

Leaning back to watch Jaskier’s reaction, Geralt hummed, “Do you want to? Or do you need a break?”

“Fuck it,” Jaskier shrugged, spinning Geralt around and following suit as he moved his equipment.

As they stood waiting for the tech to start the audio, Jaskier felt like he could really inhale for the first time all day. Geralt was there, he could feel his ribs expand against his back and his fingers tapping like a metronome on Jaskier’s palms. This is what they were missing when they wrote the damn song. The comfort of knowing someone is always at your back, that they’ll be there when it’s hard and even when you’re separated.

A warmth spread through Jaskier as the intro started and he felt ready. He still pressed back into Geralt on the harder lines, reminding himself he was still there, but they both made it through two full takes.

On the final one, as the recording of the softly picked guitar faded out, Jaskier couldn’t help but repeat two more lines, “When the lights go down, Know that I am never far away.”

His voice hung in the air for a beat, the sense of finality reverberating through the studio and bringing everything else to a stand still.

Geralt was the first to breathe, “Shit, we made it.”

“We fuckin made it,” Jaskier huffed, emotionally drained but immensely satisfied as he turned to hug Geralt from behind and press his cheek to his spine, “I love you.”

“I love you too. Let’s get a snack?”

“Yeah.”

When the sound tech played the potential mix for the first time, he tacked on an echoing, distant sounding recording of their conversation. Everyone looked at each other and nodded, goosebumps on their arms and that feral sparkle in their eyes that every artist gets when they’ve stumbled on something really exciting. They re-recorded some guitar and drums, but they kept the vocals exactly the same.

For the album art they wrote “I love you” on the tattered hospital stationary that had the lyrics and chords written on it and took a picture. Jaskier had the original framed and hung in their house as a little reminder.

205 notes · View notes

hitoshisbabygirl · 3 years

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Author's Notes ♡:Sooooo I wrote this once with no mythological background and it was so blank because one I half read and two it had no pizzazz. So here I am...enjoying this collab wholeheartedly. For some context the readers dad is Dionysus, yknow the festive, wine maker? So I tried to incorporate that with being a potions maker! Rappa is based on a mix between Behemoths and the Kusarikku, so i wanted him just a big and a bull man hybrid but not fully a Minotaur! I hope whoever reads this enjoy it as much as I did writing it! (Also I’m slowly realizing how much I hope this man)~ bunny ❥

Here’s the lovely masterlist of the others beautiful arts!

Warnings : NSFW again! (◎_◎;)

A use of pet names l, uh some heavy size kink (if you know who I based him on, also is one of my kinks showing yet) , Needy Rappa, breeding, Light cursing, a bit of a pussy job, female oral and a bit of overstimulation.

Word count : About 6.5k (ooof) !

Paring(s) : Bullman! Kendo Rappa x F!Reader

Summary : Being a demigod had perks, you could travel, you had god and goddesses as siblings and family members and of course the power! But what happens when you have to help a stubborn farm...pet?

Enjoy ♡

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Growing up as a demigods daughter who owned a garden on earth was one experience. All types of people, gods, goddesses and hybrids needed her experience with all sorts of plants and other things from nature ; rather it be for healing medicines , a bouquet for an upset lover or for help with livestock growth, [ ] and her parents helped with every little working class they could. As [ ] went from child to young adult she was used to her fair share of men from every place asking for her attention. A human asking for her hand and giving her the bare minimum, a god, wanting to make her a goddess, or just simply flirting to warrant her attention. But alas to them all she gave them no leadway, keeping her same polite smile and overall sweetness to each and every person she dealt with. On a warm day in the heavens as she walked the sky castles grounds she ran into a farmhand, one she remembered worked for Demeter approached her hesitantly, his eyes wandering to the young maidens “U-uh M-miss [ ] right?” The male asked her , her eyebrow raising as a silent answer “Lady Demeter would like to speak with you, she need some help but she did not tell me exactly what” he said with a bow and soon turned to leave. Wondering what the goddess could want she headed to her ranch, watching the cattle and other animals graze. Suddenly the door swung wide, revealing the deity to her “[ ] my favorite niece how are you love!” The tall woman sing songingly yelled, hugging the wide eyed girl “Hello Auntie Dem, im quite alright! Uhm, what seems to be the problem? One of your hands came to get me” [ ] said as she took in the ranch home her harvesting aunt had, all sorts of gains, wheats, fruits and more spewed about in her living room “Ah yes! Your father told me how great youve become with your potions and mixes of herbs, being the daughter of Dionysus im not surprised! I told him to let you grow and do more now look at you, serving us gods and mortals alike!” Demeter went on, handing her confused niece a large apple as she took one for herself. Becoming her to a table by the window they both sat, eating on their fruit as she explained her issue.

“You see, i have a lot of cattle, different kinds, different kins and legacies, but im a bit stuck. My favorite mare, had a child a little while ago and he seemed to just be your average bull at first….but..as time went on he out grew his father, my prized minotaur bull and even his normal cow and bull family.” Taking a glance to the field they watched as the minotaur children and some sheep danced and played, other average cow cults running to join. Sighing Demeter continued “Hes a hybrid, my prized minotaur as his father and well, my biggest and prized heifer as his mother. He wont come out of the shed, doesnt deal with his other kind, minotaur or not. Hes around your age now, getting to be his prime but..he wont converse in the fields. Both his father and mother voiced concerns to me about his health but when i checked on him, hes fine! Fields away under a sun and away from my younger and ready cows! I dont get it! Maybe because hes more human than he is bull, he does have a human face and even body, just taht everything below is...well bull. Tail, those wonderful breeding-” “Auntie!” Before she could finish [ ] was hushing the woman, waving her arms “I get it i get it Bull bottom human top i dont need to hear about his loins!” She pleaded.

Laughing, the goddess reached to a pile of hay, whistling to feed some of the nearby cows “Ah you silly girl, I was only gloating about my finest bull yet! I even tried bringing him mortals but...he crushed them, saying they were too small. Every single one! Younger older it didnt matter, he wanted nothing to do with them and just squashed them like a bug under his hoofs! I'm at my wits end, Im not sure what he needs, and hes so large i cant just let him walk around the palace place, he intimidates the clerks and huffs when talked to!” Dramatically laying against the table she looked to the thinking girl, her eyes shining with an idea “Hey auntie, how about you take me to him, i can see if hes loss any weight or seems sickly anywhere. Where do you think hed be at this time?” [ ] asked “Ah you brave girl, what time is it, almost high noon? He might be in the field but its the one with my giant tree that he likes” Demeter responded, pointing to a large tree up a few fields with nothing much around it but luhs grass. “Doesnt even matter if i put up a fence, he walks on two legs so he just hops over it” She sighed again as the duo headed outside.

Seeing a tall minotaur coming towards them [ ] stopped along Demeter, her goddess aunt speaking “Ah Milvor, how are you and Altine?” “Lady Demeter and I'm guessing this is [ ], we are fine. The misses is in the field now, seeing if she can see our boy” He said. Realizing that this was the after for her case [ ] spoke up “Uhm sir have you noticed anything amiss with er-” “Kendo, his name is Kendo” The Minatour said “Ah yes with Kendo, anything seem to be hurt or missing from his way of life” She asked. “Well..not particularly. Hes always fought some of the other males here so bruises and marks are a common thing we see from him. Besides a broken horn he doesn't have anything major going on. Just that he refuses to be around anyone here. Even us at times when were out with the others” He said solemnly , looking at the girl. Grabbing her hands he pleaded “Please, help our son? I know he can be rude and dismissive but down there our sweet boy is in there, were worried sick about him” Milvor said, a sad moo coming from his approaching wife “Miss i do appreciate you checking on him, I just hope he'd be home soon” A half cow women spoke , coming beside this Kendo’s father “Well i'll do my best, it doesnt sound like hes too hurt or anything serious so i'll make sure to try and get him to be with you both” Giving a reassuring smile [ ] started off, heading to the tree at the top of them hill. Just before she got far Demeter called to her, handing her sweet wheat “Heres some of his snack, he sometimes will come back if we offer him more” She said. Taking the wheat and putting it in the side of her flowing peplos. Soon with enough treading uphill , she got close to the tree , soon seeing a tail swish from in front of the tree. Hesitantly she walked forward before seeing hooved legs, also covered in black fur, pop out from the tree. Placing a hand at the side that had no person on it she peeked over to in fact , find a rather giant back in the sun, small flecks of freckles on the toned skin. Holding her gift closer she walked to the male before hearing a snort “ ‘M tellin’ ya Elinor I dont want nothin’ to do with ya, go on, go back to the heard” A rough and deep voice said, a larger hand coming up to wave off whoever was behind him. Feeling a bit bad for this mysterious Elinor and offended, she was brushed off [ ] walked closer , standing at the ends of his legs until the male growled. “I told ya to-'' Stopping himself from yelling once he turned around he was surprised to find not hybrid named Elinor but in fact the small [ ] her eyes widening as amber ones looked down “Yer not Elinor” He said as [ ] giggled “And im guessing youre Kendo” She said as the bull sat up, cruising his legs and the curious woman in front of her. “Whos askin?”

He huffed as [ ] looked at him as she did the same , sitting across from the hybrid “A…. doctor of sorts. Your parents, along with Goddess Demeter asked me to come check on you, see how youre doing” she said as he huffed again “ ‘M fine, now why did they send you” He said as he watched her pull things out, paper , a quill, ink and is that..? Pointing to the bustle of wheat he called out “Is that… for me?” Blinking [ ] looked at the almost childish Kendo, smiling as she untied the snack “It is for you, I heard you liked it. Brought it in the hopes youd talk to me?” She questioned, holding a piece out for him to take. Hesitantly he did, gnawing at it as he hummed in delight, his tail swishing. “ So uhm… Doc what do want to know” He asked, watching as the smaller girl touched his chest and arms, squeezing lightly as she wrote down different things “If ya wanted to touch me ya shouldve asked” He teased, taking his own hand to her face. Felling he face warm up she moved back, poking him with a finger “Now now be good im just seing if youre injured. Besides that horn, do you have anything broken or doenst feel well?” She asked as she waved a pisces of wheat, making him focus. “Nah, im as fit as a fiddle” Side eyeing his response she still gave him a piece , hearing him hum in delight as she wrote more notes.

“So no injuries, no pain , nothing?” shaking his head he continued to eat , taking some pieces from her bundle as she reached for the uneatten pieces “Hey! No you get these as a reward for answering me not to eat at your leisure!” She scolded. Reaching as far as she could she grabbed at his hand before he lifted them higher, smirking “Well miss doc i want what i want, and I want my snack” He said before she grabbed his arm, poking a manicured nail at it hand “Well Kendo ill let you have it if you tell me whats wrong, without covering it up deal?” Feeling him flinch at her poking she did it again until he moved away , glaring at her through his bangs that hung low “Fine! Stop poking me though, ya nails hurt! And theres nothing wrong, i just dont like ‘em cows! They stink!” He said as he knelt closer, moving her from his arm. “They stink? How old are you 5? Why do they stink!” [ ] huffed back as he chewed more of his treat, looking to the flustered girl “Im 22 in human years little girl , and like i said they stink! Reeks like open sores and meat” He said as he kept eating , laying in the sun. Thinking over his words it dawned in her what he could be talking about “And what do i smell like Kendo?” [ ] asked, catching the half bull off guard “I dunno, you dont stink, Neither does lady Dem” He said as he turned to her. Leaning over she gave him a piece of wheat again but this time, pushing herself a bit forward, watching as his body shook before he took the piece , eating it. “Well Kendo, my name is [ ] and ill be checking on you moreoften okay? I need to run down to the house but ill be back if that's okay with you?” Silently he shook his head, watching her run off as he opened his still crossed legs, feeling himself unsleeth as he groaned ‘Shit...now why am I gettin turned on’ he thought to himself, rubbing away what he could before the girl came back

As soon as she got to the farm she was met with the eyes of the worrying three, the first to speak being his mother Altine “Oh! [ ] youre back!” She said, the bell on her neck dangling as she ran to the fence “How is my boy? Kendo is he alright?” she asked as Demeter and Milvor came soon after for the report “Well maam i can confirm he is healthy, not is wrong with him the only thing is..” [ ] hesitated as she looked at them “He might have a heat approaching, is this his first one by any chance?” SHe asked as they all looked at eachother, Demeter speaking up “Well not exactly, this is why I kept bringing mortals up here, he wouldnt mate with the cows, and even other hybrids! Nothing! Hed turn his nose up at them all and go back to that field. He actually broke that horn of his fighting a bull from a neighboring farm who wanted to cow that was trying to get his attention” Demeter said, sigh as she saw her nieces blank face , afraid she overwhelmed her “Its alright if you dont think hes fixable [ ] i can-” “No hes fine. I can help him, and i think it wont be that hard either” [ ] said, giving the group a smile. “Watch him for a few days for me , im gonna go back up there with him, see how he is then come back in a few days with some of my things, ill stay here as long as need be to help your son” She said as she gave them all a smile, going inside to get her something to eat. Soon she hear her aunt appear, shuffling about to give her a basket to put her things in “Here, Im so gald helping him is a easy fix” She said sighing happily as she continued “I know he should mate on his own time, but im more concerned for his heath of it all, he doesnt even release into anyone or even by himself” Glancing towards her auntie she took in a breath before saying something “Well, i know it has to be bad now, he even said the er, cow women here stink, so their hormone have to be covered with other bulls or maybe he genuinely doesnt see appeal with them” [ ] said. Thinking it over Demeter gave her an almost alarming look “Well if thats the case just as you arrived he asked me what i was cooking, that something smelt good. I told him I didnt have anything and he just retreated back to his part of the barn before leaving for the field again.” Slowly [ ] realized she might be in for more than she imagines but brushed it off. “Interesting..” She said as she took her full basket “I have an idea, im gonna see if his heat hits its peaking times in a few days, I do plan on staying here if youd have me here?” She asked as a delighted look spread across Demeter’s face “Of course dear child! I missed having you around! Your Father was bad at bringing you over, him and his festivals” Demeter huffed before she poked her nieces cheek “Besides! We can have a girls night, or well er, weeks depending!” She said as the laughed together “Well it's a deal!”

Heading back up the hill she saw that Kendo had moved, facing a running river as he sast in the sun once more, looking content. [ ] smirked to herself before grabbing some of the things she had ; a brush, a lavish soap and a towel. Heading to where the behemoth of a hybrid laid she noticed his ear twitched, before he opened an eye to look back at her. “Hey Doc, ya back.” He said as she gave him a smile, sitting beside his head “Why yes I am. You seem to be enjoying yourself” She teased as he smirked, turning to face her. “Well i do enjoy the sun, keeps me warm nd my hair soft.” Looking him over again she noticed that his hair was always up in a bun but his bangs covering his eyes, a different hue of color, more of a rustic red than his black furred legs. “Well about that...Im gonna give you a bath!” the giant bull flinched at her words, seeing the happy look gracing her face “Oi now look, ‘m fine i dont need no bath” He argued as she pouted “Why sure you do! I know you dont go when the others get theirs, and if that bun of yours is any indication, you need to wash all of that dirt and grime off. Now let me help you” She barked back, pointing the soft looking brush towards his face. He stood up, now overthrowing the girls height as he pointed a finger at her “Now look, I like being this way, it keeps those girls offa me if you clean me now they wont leave me alone!” [ ] sighe before stepping closer, pointing her own small hand at his face, moving closer “Now you listen to me Kendo, I have things to help keep them off of you, this is for your own health! I can leave you here, dirty but your hair and fur is gonna get so matted theyll have to shave you!”

At hearing a potential that hed be shave Kendo flinched, moving his bangs so his soft eyes could meet her determined ones “Theyll shave me? Ion wanna be like the sheep” he said she she gave him a satisfied look. “Well go into the water then and ill make sure you wont!” Reluctantly he sighed, walking into the river as she followed behind, pinning her longer robe so it wouldnt get too wet as she sat at the side of the river. Holding a hand out she waved him closer, the male coming to her as she undid his hair. To her utter surprise it fell down his shoulders, stopping just short of his waist. Gently she pushed his bangs back to see his pretty amberish eyes looking up to her [ ]’ed ones. He had a typical Bull hook through his nose , the gold shining in the warm sun. He was quite handsome, sun kissed skin and a clear face, broad shoulders and a nice body. Even with his mostly human body his horns, tail and ears were bull, on top of his legs and...neithers , that were covered in fur. Softly she traced a scar under his eye, the wound slightly tender as he jumped from the touch. Going to her wrist she tied a string to hold his long bangs up, a giggle falling from her lips as he almost looked like a younger child getting a bath “What're you lookin at me like that for” He huffed as she laughed more, pushing his face together “You look like an upset child is all. Now go ahead and dip in the water for me , ill scrub you after.” Listening to her, Kendo dropped watching as some of the debris and dirt washed off around him as he stood up, shaking his hair “Good enough?” He asked as she shook her head, pouring some of the sopa on the brush as she started to was his chest,making sure to scrub him as clean as she could from land. Sensing her struggle he reached to her, lifting her over his body as she squealed “Sorry, you were just strugglin so i thought i'd help you” Kendo said as [ ] hesitantly started to wash as much as she could, tapping his arm anytime she needed to move. Being up there did help, she was able to was his horns and his hair, revealing the rust orange and copper hair underneath. Surprised she ran her finger though it, giving him a shy smile. “See dont you feel a bit better?” She asked as he shyly nodded, noticing how her clothes clinged to her chest. He reached to put her back on land, coming out of the water himself as he allowed her to scrb his legs and hoofs, the dull black fur coming to life as he watched in awe. She didnt mind helping him, still came to bother him when he said he didnt want help and now she was bathing him. Kendo mulled over how helpful she was, and realized she was more comforting than most. After scrubbing his hoofs shiny she tapped his legs, signaling she was done.

“All right! Now that youre all clean and such Ill make sure you stay this way okay Kendo?” [ ] said as she went back to the basket, pulling out two apples. The bull in question watched as she came back to him, handing him the other one “Here ya go! Thought you could use something sweet” kendo took the apple from the girl, before biting into it, thanking hier softly as they sat in silence. Soon [ ] spoke up, breaking their silet aurora “So...ill be around here the next few days or so, ill probably stay longer, giving how nice it is” She laughed, looking at the curious male beside her “Dont be afraid to ask me for anything okay? Im here to help you” With that Kendo nodded, going back to the apple. Quietly Kendo touched her arm, making [ ] look to him as an unfamiliar look went over his face. Gently herself, [ ] put her hand on his, shaking her head as a signal for him to talk. “Would you mind...pettin me?” he asked before [ ]’s eyes went wide. Now feeling a bit more embarrassed he spoke up again “I have problems going to sleep, ‘ts why i like it out here in the sun, its warm , nd comforting…” Pausing he continued after he got his words together. “You do the same thing like the sun. Youre warm...comforting.. And make me feel sleepy...so if you pet me...ill be comforted to sleep..its what my mama did, but im too big to be in her lap” With that kendo finished, glancing to the girl who gave him a soft look “Of course i can! I have to get pick some more clothes up but once i get back, I can stay with you out here.” Shaking his head Kendo looked back to the river “Ya dont have to sleep outside with me just...put me to sleep” Unable to stop herself [ ] hugged his arm, looking at him through her lashes “Oh cmon you big baby, I dont mind it! Havent slept under the stars since i was a kid!” Brushing off her dress she ran a hand though his thick locs of hair, giving him another warm hug “Ill be back before sundown, now you be good” And with that he watched as his new found friend walked down the hill.

As promised she brought a blanket and joined him, laying under the tree as the large male went to sleep on her lap, contently humming as [ ] ran her fingers through his hair, making Kendo groan as he fell asleep like mentioned, hugging her thighs as he slept the most comfortable he had in weeks. Watching the hybrid sleep she saw all types of scars, some down his back , others on his chest. A few on his arms and only one on his face, plus the broken horn. He obviously got himself into different groups of problems, but he was sweet, not as curt as he expected. Running her fingers down his back she watched him shiver, going to wrap his arms higher around her torso. Giggling as softly as she could [ ] started to braid his hair back in his sleep, the moving under her ceasing as he was well resting once more. Thinking to herself ‘ If he’ll be like this it should be a breeze to help him.’ Oh how wrong she was.

A few days passed with little to no incident , [ ] going around helping with the daily chore and hanging out with her deity auntie. As the two of them sat in the living quarters, drinking a mixed juice that her father set them they heard a bell appear towards the window, it being Kendo’s mother “I'm so sorry to bother you , but i think something is gravely wrong. Kendo is whining in the shed, earlier he even started to-” Before she could finish a thumb came from his shed, followed by a groan “and that, he's been head butting his room” sitting up [ ] looked to his shed, seeing the door shut but large banging still coming from inside “Hey Auntie, is it alright if we could move him to the other field? I dont want his lashing to accidentally hurt anyone here” Coming besides [ ] Demeter chewed at her lip, thinking “Well, if we can stop him then yes, I'd get the boys to move it quickly”. With that answer [ ] got up, heading to the rocking shed. Taking in a breath she knocked, hearing that the groans subsided. The door slowly creaked open, showing a heaving Kendo “[ ].....?” He whispered, looking over her body as she reached to his forehead, pressing her hand against it. Hot, way too hot. “Kendo, sweetie come with me okay? We’re gonna go to the fields and we're gonna move your shed there okay?” Silently he nodded, coming out of his place. He was gasping, chest heaving as his eyes swirled a darker color than normal. Taking the outstretched hand of [ ] his larger fingers curled against it, following the light pull of the girl. Softly, He nudged her back “ ‘M hot..” he said as she looked back at him, making sure the fever wasn't wearing him down. He gave her a weak smile, rubbing the back of her hand “ ‘M alright princess, just hot” Kendo said as she noted how his voice dropped octaves. “Well theyre gonna bring a bigger shed for you out here and ill check on you every hour. Does anything hurt?” [ ] asked as they walked up the hill “Nah, but my horns are ackey.” “Is that why you were bashing them on the shed?” “Yeah...its like trying to scratch an itch you can reach” Kendo sighed, seeing his usual tree coming into view. As the duo got there he dramatically fell under it, pulling [ ] with him. “K-kendo! Careful!” she fussed as he let go of her apologizing as he drifted to sleep. Soon some of the workers had started working on the new roomed shed for him , finishing just before sundown as they would inform Demeter of where she was.

Gently pushing the deep sleeping boy from her lap she went to his new place, checking everything out. It was more of a small home than a shed, filled with a huge bed and a nice aesthetic to them, the touch of the goddess laced through the look of the place. Going around to sort some of the things they brought for Kendo, [ ] felt a presence behind her “whats all this..” the groggy bull said, ducking down to walk into his lavish bedroom “Your new home! I had them build something spacious but also not overwhelming, and these white are just so lovely.” [ ] kept talking as she soon felt two large arms wrap around her torso “ Ya did this for little ol me..?” He whispered as she ran a hand over his forearm. “I did...you need somewhere to relax in this state” She responded, trying to get from his grasp as he tighten it “Uh uh dont leave...tell me whats wrong with me doc..why cant I stop feeling hot...and anytime you come around I...cant help myself” He ended with a groan , burying his face in the shorter girls neck “Well once im sure of you being in a state of need ill be back okay? Just...relax for me and i promise ill be back.” finally convincing him to let go of her waist, not without a pained groan as he went to the bed, hazy eyes glancing over the short dress wearing girl “Get some more rest okay? Im gonna get something to eat and ill be back in the morning. Call me if you need me okay?” [ ] said as he just groaned a meek response, turning to his side.

Earlier the next morning [ ] woke up to an empty house. Stretching she found a neatly written note with some food on the table

Dearest Niece, Im currently headed to your Uncle Poseidon's place, I should be back some time later ; an update on Kendo, hes been begging for you all day, wont let anyone touch him or check on him. He should be awake now but do be warned ; He’s a lot more scatterbrained than usual

Auntie Demeter

Reading over the note again [ ] sighed, putting on her more comfortable and workable dress as she headed up to his new little house on his hill, the sound of groaning and whines coming to her ears as she got to his door. Seeing it ajar she pushed it open slightly, the place dark except from a crack of light coming from the window. Going to the shades she opened them, hearing a hiss from the bed. “Kendo its me..[ ]?” She called out as the wild set of hair came into view. He was even more disheveled, eyes filled over as he looke to the girl before growling, crawling out of the bed to her. With a gasp she was in his arms, body shaking as she was met with unnaturally feral eyes from the boy. “You left me yesterday..” he rapeseed out, burying his face in her neck again as she grabbed at his thick neck “Kendo honey, i told you id be back this morning didnt i?” She calmly said as he held her tighter, pushing her chest to his “Dont care, ‘ts too long” Realizing why he was so needy [ ] tried to reason with him “Well im sorry love, here lets sit down on the bed” Trying to get him to move she walked forward only to feel something large and hot push into her bare thigh. Nervously she looked down only to be faced to what she feared it was ; His hanging member. A wicked laugh came from above her as she was met with his ever lust driven eyes, a hand of his going to cup her ass and pull her closer “See what you left me with? No matter how hard i fuck my fist i cant cum, it wont come out” He whined and burried his face again, rocking himself on her thigh “Please ill do anythin..youre the only one who sgotten me like this...the only one i want..[ ] please princess help me” Overwhelmed but the situation she tried to pull back, eyes searching his “K-kendo youre getting yourself worked up relax-” Without warning he picked her up, making her screech as he brought her crouch to his face, inhaling as he whimpered, reaching down to his growing dick “Fuck you smell good, like flowers...and sweets..” Letting his tongue roll out he sucked over her panties, making her squeal as she gripped his messy hair “N-no kendo put me down i need to help y-you!” She moaned as his tongue flicked over her clit, a mutual groan coming from both of them. Soon a hard tug to his hair resonated, cause him to put her down as she barely touched the floor, hand grabbing his biceps “Kendo please, please sit down youre overworking yourself.” Trying to calm her racing heart she saw how hazed he was, his hand coming to wrap around his visually throbbing head, stroking himself as tight and fast as he could, looking at the awe struck girl infront of him. His hips lifted up as he was chasing a high but he soon groaned, thrusting meekly in his fist “I-I cant, fuck I cant do it doll, ‘t hurts...p-please” Finally snapping from her haze she got closer to Kendo, hand still trying to milk himself as she put her hand over his, stoping the motion.

“K-ken..ill help you okay? Youre gonna rub yourself raw at this pace..” nervously [ ] pulled his hand away, precum coating it as she gulped. He was huge, red and swollen tip curved in the right places. Even with his bull heritage he was still humanly manageable, but with a lot of work to try and get it to fit. With her staring at the intimidating size it twitched , curving up to his belly button as he gave her a lop sided snarl “ Cmon darlin, he... er, we need you . ya keep staring make me feel a bit exposed” He laughed as [ ] gave her own light chuckle. Facing her fears she wrapped a hand around his tip, a hurting yelp falling from Kendo at the touch made her eyes flicker to him but what she saw was pure lust, eyes blown with his tongue licking over his lips “Y-yes finally...shit I-i can feel somethin” Kendo couldnt help himself. Reaching down he grabbed her other hand , wrapping them tightly around his tip as he thrusted between them. “Mhmm im cumin, im gonna cum o-oh shit” As soon as she twisted her wrist to help him he felt himself twitch , spurts of warm cum splattering on [ ]’s face and the floor a he gave her a nervous laugh “S-shit doll face yer good...im sorry i couldnt hold it in..” he said shyly as [ ] gave him a sympathetic look, stroking over his still throbbing head. “[ ] please...can I fuck you? I-I promise ill go slow its juts the smell of you is..mhmm intoxicating” Kendo pulled her up from her knees, pressing his mouth against her clinging panties ,pulling them with his teeth. [ ] squeaked, grabbing his hair as he pushed her hips closer, trying to lick her. “W-wait ill take em off” Pushing at his shoulders she pulled the piece he had in his mouth out, sliding the flimsy lace as she came a bit closer, a growl coming from his lips as he pushed her dress higher, finally able to taste her. Throwing one leg then the next on his shoulder kendo fell back, making her fall onto his lips.

[ ] let a pitched moan come out, startled by his rummaging in between her thighs , his diligent uskcing on her clit taking a toll as she came, bucking her hips onto his mouth. Swallowing her juices Kendo flipped her on her stomach, pushing the fabric of her dress up and over her shoulder to release her covered chest, now exposed “mhmm i want more of that sweet nectar baby why dont you give it to me?” whispering in her ear and now bucking his even harder dikc between her small lips [ ] started to panic “K-Ken wait I dont think youll fit!” ignoring her thrashing Kendo looked over her body, seeing how she shook at every stroke of his tip against her sopping core “I told ya ill be gentle, hold still [ ]...i wouldnt hurt my mate” The heaviness of those word took over [ ]’s body as she looked back to him, only to see the save behemoth size push against her ring of muscles. Agonizingly slow he pushed, letting his tip slide in as he pushed each small inch he could in, a whine falling from them both. Once he was halfway in he slowly thrust his hips, causing the girl to yelp “I-its alright i got ya okay? Youre fine...its okay im here” Constantly praising her , Kendo was able to slip more into her, each mini thrust pushing him a bit closer to her, the sounds of squishing and pleasure filled moans filling the room. Becoming overwhelmed at almost being full [ ] pushed her hips back to take the rest, making Kendo yelped and [ ] moaned, the sudden feeling of him bottoming out almost too much as he placed his hand on her stomach, feeling him brush her cervix. Swinging his hips more fluidly he started to pounder her even more, gripping her neck as he pushed her deeper in the bed “Fuck yeah i knew youd be my perfect little minx, taking me so well i cant wait to see you swollen with my babies” He huskily whispered , the stretched out girl too blissed at taking him whole to care about his words.

“I bet youd love being my mate, wouldnt have to lift a finger for anything , id take good care of ya..” Continuing his beating against her cervix he felt something strong hed never felt before, a blind need to cum hitting him like a train “mhm..please let me breed you, this pussys’ mine, all i ever wanted...ill make you a cute little house wife hm? Make you swell with cute little us running about.” Feeling her weakening clench over him he reached for that bundle of nerves, switching his hips to hit even deeper, his throbbing dick pushing against that sponge in her walls. Crying out [ ] fell lower, feeling him slip impossibly deeper as he sped up.” Cmon [ ] , babygirl cum for me..give me it..t-then i can give you what you want yeah? Fill ya to the brim so you can bear me a strong child….”Finally at that the little sense of control snapped coming from a particularly hard push and roll of her clit she was whining , grabbing the arm beside her head as angry red lines welted up. Feeling her hit her peak Kendo got to his knees , nursing her bud as she tried to tug him away, thighs shaking as teary eyes looked down to his fierce lust filled one. As soon as she started whimpering and pulling her hips away he stopped, scrubbing his tip along her folds as he entered without too much pull, [ ]’s mouth falling open “Mh..i'm so close baby...just wanted to look at you when I fill you full..” Kendo felt his tip twitch, making his hips stutter as he picked his pace up again, watching as her arms went are far as they could to his back, stretching his shoulders as he came with a growl, and almost audible sound of him pumping in her heard as she weakly pulled him closer, their lips meeting in a intimate kiss.

With care he pulled from her lips, seeing her eyes fill up again as he kissed tears away “Its alright...its okay ‘m here princess...its alright..I didnt hurt you did I?” Kendo asked as he looke at her slightly bulged stomach, a satisfied smirk on his lips “ Hey [ ]...” He started as she gave a weak hum he continued “Be my mate..I know i didnt ask before filling you bu...id be honored to make such a caring woman my mate and wife...treat you just like my father does my mom..…” He said, nuzzling her cheek before [ ] pulled his face up, kissing him lightly as she gave him a tired smile, rubbing his cheeks “I-id be honored to be your mate..take good care of me okay? Or Auntie Demeter has your head..” Laughing he kissed her lips again, sealing their new deal

#my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #the circus dome collab #rappa x reader #kendo rappa #rappa smut #kendo rappa x reader

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