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#nobody knows what he looks like. how the agency figured out he has yellow eyes no one will ever come to understand
the-valiant-valkyrie · 7 months
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thats the best segue into my hivemind design i got, boss
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-Saiouma Oneshots- Kindergarten Teacher! Kokichi x Parent! Shuichi
>Quick Disclaimer< In this story, Monaca is nice- Her legs are actually disabled as well. I tried to mention everyone who is in the actual story's POVS. The adults are 22 whereas the kids are 5. Kirigiri and Shuichi are childhood friends too.
This story is very long, it was made to show my appreciation for all of the support. Sorry it took so long for me to update.
!TW!
Family Issues
Mentions Trauma
Mentions Dead Bodies
kIsSinG (Ok I'll stop)
KOKICHI POV
“So, Nagisa. I heard you’re getting a new caretaker?”
I looked at Nagisa, pitying the poor boy. He never had good parents. They would always force the youngling to work, days over days, sometimes hitting him to help him stay awake. That’s his reason for being very smart at a young age.
I would always stay here with him in the afternoon, occupying him so he doesn’t have to go back home.
“Mhm! I heard he’s a boy, I hope he’s nice!”
I smiled at the small boy. Even with all the despair he has been through during his life, he still had a glimpse of hope resting in his heart. I admired him for this, he was very strong for pulling through all the drama, especially as a child.
“Y’know, I’m gonna miss going here when I grow up. Will I ever see you again?”
“I mean, I could probably get in contact with your new caretaker, and could visit you once in a while…”
“I don’t wanna leave this place…”
I comforted him as his tears threatened to fall from his eyes, tracing random designs on his back, listening to his troubles. I suddenly heard a knock on the door. I energetically got up from my seat, Nagisa following close behind me, and then opened the door.
There was a man with teal blue hair and a detective uniform standing at the door. He looked kinda sexy-
“Hello, Mr. Detective~ You here for something?”
He stared at me before handing me a few slips of paper. Adoption papers? Wha-
“Who are you?”
Nagisa was a little scared, as he was a detective. The poor boy probably thought that the man was here for something serious.
I hushed Nagisa as I pulled him infront of me, giving him a good view of the man.
“My apologies…I’m Shuichi Saihara. Nice to meet you.”
I nodded at him and decided to introduce Nagisa and myself/
“I’m Kokichi Ouma, and this is Nagisa. Judging by the adoption papers, I’m guessing you’re here for Nagisa?”
He nodded and shook the hand I held out to him. He had such a calming voice…
“Are you mean?”
“I promise I’m no-“
“You smell like coffee.
“Wha-“
“Nagisa, it’s not ok to interrupt people y’know.”
Nagisa muttered a small ‘sorry’ to me and the man before getting his bag. He peered up at me with teary eyes. I could tell he didn’t want to go with a new parent, due to trust issues. I sighed and pat him on the head.
“You better take care of him.”
Shuichi smiled at me, reassuring that everything was going to be fine. I held out my phone with my contacts open.
“Phone number?”
I asked him as he took my phone (and ran off with it) and he handed me his, and we both entered each other’s phone number. Nagisa smiled as I showed him my phone, his eyes gleaming with hope and joy. I couldn’t help but smile back at him. Shuichi even grinned at us placing his hands gently on Nagisa’s shoulder. I waved them goodbye as they waved back, Nagisa ranting to Shuichi about me. I’m glad I was able to make him happy. I walked around the small room, arranging everything back into its normal places and counting all the items to see if they were still there. 10 paint brushes, 2 art easels, 20 pencils, 5 paint palettes, 40 books and 7 whiteboard markers. Looks like I’m running low on markers, I’ll grab some in the morning. I smiled and locked the door behind me. I strolled down the street under the glowing sky, showing colours of orange, yellow, red, and peach. I sat calmly at the bus stop, taking off my painting apron and stuffing it into my bag neatly. I placed earplugs into my ears and started playing my favourite playlist.
Soon the bus arrived, squeaking its brakes as it parked into the bus stop. I sighed and planted my feet onto the ground as boarded the bus. It didn’t take long to get home.
||Time Skip Cuz Lazy||
I jingled my keys as I brought them out of my pocket, slotting them into the lock and opening the doors to the kindergarten. I walked in, turning on the fans by a little, and the lights. I began to write whatever was happening onto the big whiteboard and restocked my pens. I smiled as children and parent sprawled into the room, yet keeping an eye out for Nagisa. If he had any new scars or bruises, or darker eyebags, Shuichi won’t be waking up the next day. I waited about five minutes, everyone was here, but the two people I had been waiting for.
Suddenly, the doors swung open, and I spotted Shuichi giving the small child a piggy-back ride. I smiled as they both grinned back at me, Nagisa climbing off the adults back and running over to me.
“Kokichi! You won’t believe it! He let me use his magnifying glass and we went to the park. He even pushed me on the swing! I love my new dad!”
I grinned wider, glad Shuichi was giving him a good treatment. He even said he loved him.
“That’s great Nagisa! I’m grateful that Shuichi has been treating you right.”
Shuichi lovingly hugged Nagisa.
“I better go, or I’ll be late for work! Bye, have a good day you two! I love both of you!”
The young boy I waved goodbye as the detective briskly walked out of the kindergarten building, waving us goodbye, blushing. Wait, he loved both of us…?
||POV Change||
SHUICHI POV
I walked out the door, blushing crazily. I can’t believe I said that. I’m so embarrassed…
I hopped into the car, driving down to the detective agency. When I had first met Kokichi, I thought he looked a little cute, but I just ignored my thoughts. I’ll just tell him I was talking Nagisa and his non-existent imaginary friend…yeah I’ll just do that.
I arrived at the agency, closing the door gently behind me and taking in a deep breath. The aroma of coffee wafted around the area. No wonder I smelt like coffee…According to Nagisa anyways.
“Good morning Mr. Saihara. You looked like you’ve slept well!”
My partner, detective Kirigiri. I grinned at her, starting to tell her about Nagisa. She nodded at me while I spoke, thankful that I finally had something to cheer me up. I had been so busy with work lately that I was so tired to even show much emotion.
“So, Shuichi. We have a new case to work on.”
“Hm? What’s it about?”
“Just a new murder case, the usual.”
I nodded at her getting my file reports organized and ready. She gave me some evidence, suspect reports, reports of the victim and the time and place of the murder.
“It seemed to be planned too…”
I muttered as she passed over a small picture which showed the room.
“Huh?”
I pointed at the picture, spotting a nearly invisible ‘escape route plan’ peeking out of the screen. You could only see half of it though.
“That’s new…”
“Wait…How did you know this wasn’t there? Weren’t you at the crime scene?”
“It was a photo in the victims camera roll. You were correct, I was there, but it seems like the killer needed this to escape.”
“That makes sense.”
“So, the killer must’ve either been scared they would mess up, has a bad memory or had minimum time to figure this out…”
She agreed with me and pointed to the wall again, pointing back to the photo.
“There seems to be something white in the vents that we never checked.”
She stated bluntly while narrowing her eyes to get a better look.
“You’re right! Why didn’t you check the vents though…?”
“Rats.”
“Wha-“
I shrugged it off and looked back at Kyoko, then the picture again. She smirked at me and placed a hand on my shoulder.
“You wanna check it out, don’t you.”
“Kinda-“
“Well, what are you waiting for?”
I followed her out of the building, and we entered the car park, halting to a stop right infront of a shining, neon purple motorcycle. It gleamed in the sunlight and Kyoko continued to smirk at me.
“Chickening out?”
“N-No..”
“Good.”
She grabbed a helmet off the dark purple handlebars and gave it to me, claiming to have a spare one in her bag that she could wear. Which she did.
She hopped onto the motorcycle, gesturing for me to do the same. I gulped and lifted my leg over the seat and sat down, trembling.
“Hold on tight!”
I didn’t hesitate to do exactly as she told me. She revved the engine, and we took off down the road, her purple hair flowing viciously in the wind. I was petrified. We were going veryfast. I gulped as I felt the wind blow in my face. I rested my chin on Kirigiri’s shoulder, avoiding her purple hair flowing into my face as we raced around the city. The city lights were blurred, and people looked like smudge marks. I peered down at the road, barely able to adjust to the distorted white line and concrete. I felt a sickening dizziness, and my head just couldn’t keep up with my blurry surroundings. Yet, I felt like I was in heaven. The glorious wind blowing in my face, the soothing noises of the motorcycle engine, and the feel of Kyoko’s warmth. I closed my eyes, loosing touch with everything around me. I was in my own little world. That was, until I sensed the motorcycle slow to a halt and Kyoko’s small weight lift off the motorcycle. But since I was laying on her, she lifted me up too without realizing, and my body went tumbling forward, Kyoko’s doing the same.
“Sorry…”
I sighed and apologized, staring at the ground. She arose from the ground, dusting off her uniform and patting me delicately on my back.
“No worries, Saihara-Kun. Just be careful next time.”
I nodded as we barged into the murder scene, nobody being there.
“Watch out. We cannot predict anything. Expect the unexpected.”
I remembered her wise words and examined the room, Kirigiri assisting me by lifting me up, since I weighed less, and I unscrewed the vents to see a rat. Great. I sneakily snatched the paper and Kyoko lowered me back down to the ground, peering over my shoulder to see if anything useful was written on the small piece of white paper. It read,
Sorry, my dear friend.
“So, the victim was the culprit’s friend….
“Seems so.”
“Wait, why wasn’t it near the victim then?”
“When we arrived, the fan was on, making it completely possible to blow into the vents, in which the paper could slip through, and the rats could’ve possibly taken it.”
I nodded to show my agreement and we inspected the room a little longer. I spotted her typing on her phone a few moments later, sighing.
“Saihara-Kun.”
“Y-Yes?”
“Are you gonna leave your kid at kindergarten or…”
Shuichi blankly stared down at his wrist, reading the time.
2:12
Nagisa’s kindergarten ended at 2:00. He was over the other side of the city. He would be very late, as they had no car.
“Take my motorcycle. I want to stay a bit longer anyways.”
“Really? Thank you Kirigiri-San!”
I rushed out of the building, grabbing a sleek blue helmet and boarded the motorcycle. The wheels screeched as I raced across the city, my hair spasming in the wind. The motorbike’s wheels whirred as they rolled along the road, forcing the motorbike to drive faster. My hands gripped the handlebars incredibly tight, fearing the vehicle would stir out of control if I didn’t have power over the handlebars.
There it was. The kindergarten. I zoomed towards it, halting to a stop in the parking lot. I rushed inside, panting heavily as Kokichi and Nagisa were staring at me. The small, blue-haired boy ran over, enveloping me in a tight hug. I lovingly hugged back, patting his back in the process.
“Where were you? Parents shouldn’t be late, y’know.”
I gulped and peered up at the kindergarten teacher, mentally scolding myself. I knew I shouldn’t have been late. If it wasn’t for my partner, I would’ve left Nagisa there until I suddenly realized that he wasn’t anywhere nearby.
“Kokichi, don’t blame Dad! He had a really important case today!”
“Alright, just tell me next time.”
I muttered a sorry, and nodded, showing my understanding. The kindergarten teacher walked up to me, swiftly patting Nagisa’s head for a short period of time, then shifted to face me. I gulped, fearing I would get in trouble for not being a ‘good parent’.
“Why’d you call both of us cute.”
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about-“
“Why.”
I looked to the side, shivering a little and sighing. I soon peered back at him.
“Look..”
My ahoge resembled a deflated balloon. It was deformed, bent at every inch.
“It just slipped out, okay…?”
He looked at me, unamused, rolling his eyes and sighing.
“Totally…”
“Well, Nagisa and I have to go…”
“Alrighty! See you Nagisa!”
“What about me-“
“What about you?”
I rolled my eyes as I watched Kokichi ruffle Nagisa’s hair. He looked down at the boy expectantly.
“Nagisa has wanted to ask you something, but he’s clearly too shy…”
He nudged Nagisa knowingly, as the small boy stuttered out words.
“Well…I was wondering if some of my friends could have a sleepover…I’ve never had one, and…”
There was an awkward silence as my mind scanned over what I had planned next week. Nothing.
“Or not! T-That’s fine t-too!”
He looked sad and embarrassed at the same time, fiddling uneasily with his fingers, making eye contact with the ground.
“No, its fine! I was just trying to remember if I had anything scheduled next week…We can have one!”
Nagisa’s eye lit up, sparkles glimmering in his blue orbs. He shined so brightly as he bounced around the room excitedly. Then I realized something.
“Wait-“
“What?”
Kokichi looked up at me, clearly waiting for an answer.
“How am I gonna get Kyoko’s motorbike back to her-“
“You drove a motorcycle.”
“Yes-“
Kokichi jingled the keys on his short fingers, swaying them from side to side. He stared into my eyes, smiling.
“Want a ride then? I could pack the motorbike in the back of my car and drop it of to ‘whatever her name is’.”
“Kirigiri.”
“Right.”
The three of us strolled out of the kindergarten, after Kokichi had tidied up all the mess and checked up on everything, locking the doors behind us as we exited the building. Hopping into the car, we all drove off down the road, me directing the other adult towards the crime scene. Leaving the car, I unpacked the motorbike as Kokichi and Nagisa followed me in. I shifted to look back at the others.
“Uhm, I don’t think Nagisa should see this…”
“Why?”
I leaned into Kokichi’s ear and whispered to him.
“Dead body.”
He bobbed his head to show his agreement, Nagisa looking back and forth at us, confused. He held an arm infront of Nagisa, restricting him from going further, as I entered the building.
||POV CHANGE||
NAGISA POV
I watched as Dad entered the house, a bit worried. Why couldn’t I go in there? I decided to ask Kokichi.
“Why can’t I go in? What’s even in there?”
“Something you don’t want to see.”
I gave him a look of uncertainty, waiting for Dad to come back. I was a little worried, so I decided to start a conversation.
“I think you like Dad, am I right?”
“He seems pretty nice, probably would be a good friend.”
“No, you like Dad in that way. Not friendship, love.”
His eyes widened as he blushed furiously.
“W-Why would you t-think that, N-Nagisa?”
“So, you do like him.”
“N-No! I don’t!”
I rolled my eyes a little. It was so obvious. The whole time Kokichi and I were waiting for Dad, he was talking about him. Literally the whole time. I remember our conversation, word for word.
||Flashback||
“Alright! Time to go everyone!”
Kokichi opened the doors, the young children flooding out of the kindergarten. He sighed as he looked around after all the young kids were safely returned to their parents.
“Nagisa, where’s Shuichi?”
“He told me he was investigating today, apparently it was really serious!”
“Right…”
Kokichi sat on one of the chairs, relaxing his legs and leaning against the table. I did the same, and looked at him.
“Y’know, Shuichi is kinda hot.”
“Wha-“
“His hair is pretty, don’t you think?”
All I could do is agree. Kokichi peered down at his watch. 2:10. He sighed.
“I’m just going to text him-“
“Don’t.”
“Why not?”
“He never answers when he’s at work…”
Kokichi fiddled the phone in his hands, clearly annoyed. Probably wanted to see Shuichi. Who knows?
“I know someone who does answer their phone though.”
He peered at me and handed me his phone. I cheerfully took it and tried to memorize their number. Typing it in, I quickly added the number to Kokichi’s contacts and texted the person. I had seen their number when Shuichi and Kokichi exchanged phone numbers.
‘Hello, do you know Shuichi Saihara by any chance? If so, do you know where he is?’
‘Yes, Shuichi is my work partner at the detective agency. We are currently investigating together. Who is this?’
‘This is Nagisa, his adoptive son. I’m texting him on my kindergarten teacher’s phone. I just wanted to tell him that kindergarten ended 12 minutes ago.’
‘Thank you Nagisa. I will have Shuichi know. He sure is forgetful.’
‘Thank you! Can I please know your name?’
‘Kyoko. Kyoko Kirigiri.’
‘Wait, how do you know my number?’
‘I memorized it when I saw Shuichi and my teacher exchange numbers. Sorry if that’s creepy or anything…’
‘It’s fine. I have to go now. Goodbye Nagisa!’
‘Bye!’
I turned off the phone, the glowing screen fading into pitch black darkness. I peered at Kokichi, telling him that Shuichi should be here soon.
||Present Time||
We were still waiting for Shuichi when I spotted Kyoko and himself exit the huge building. Kyoko stared at me, grinning slightly.
“Are you Nagisa?”
I nodded as she walked up to me, ruffling my hair playfully, then glaring at Shuichi. I could see him gulp and look away.
“And you are…?”
“I’m Kokichi, Nagisa’s teacher.”
“Nice to meet you.”
They shook hands, smiling at each other joyfully.
||POV CHANGE||
KIRIGIRI POV
I’m a little disappointed in Shuichi if I’m being honest.
Leaving your kid who’s in kindergarten with his teacher?
I mean, me and Shuichi have known each other since we were kids and happened to get into the same agency. I know Shuichi. He is forgetful, but not this forgetful. I mentally facepalmed at his previous actions and shook hands with Kokichi.
Nagisa and Kokichi look like they have a close relationship.
I disconnected our hands, watching as Kokichi signalled for Shuichi to enter the car. The two closed the doors behind them, waiting for Nagisa to say goodbye. The younglings hand reached for the door handle, struggling to open the car door. I went to assist him, just to realise it was locked. Shuichi and Kokichi strained to unlock the doors from the inside.
How did this even happen-
“D-Dad!”
Nagisa panicked as he saw the two people he seemed to be the closest to stuck inside the black and white car. I sighed as I saw the trapped kindergarten teacher flirt with the parent. Shuichi literally looked like his parents were a combination of a tomato and strawberry. I watched them as they continued to flirt together. I mentally facepalmed and refocused on the incident infront of me.
I saw Nagisa’s confused face as he walked up to peer through the window, prying into their business. I gently tapped the window, catching their attention.
“Are you two lovebirds done?”
I yelled from the other side of the window. They both were facing me, furiously blushing. In full honesty, they look like they dyed their faces bright pink.
“I’m going to break the window- “
“NAGISA DON’T- “
Too late. Nagisa had grabbed a rock off the ground and pounded it against the window.
“Really- “
“Sorry I was panicking…”
“It’s fine…”
“I guess we’re driving back with a broken window.”
“I guess they call you a detective for a reason!”
Kokichi laughed at his own joke as Shuichi giggled as well. It was so obvious they liked each other, they were so blind and dense. I could tell they liked each other, yet they were uncertain the other loved them back. I sighed and grabbed my purple helmet, putting the blue one Shuichi used in my sleek black bag.
“I’ll be going now.”
I waved goodbye as I hopped onto the motorbike, smiling as my purple streaks of hair flowed relaxingly behind me as I sped down the road. Out of the corner of my eyes. I could see the Kokichi pull Shuichi into a quick kiss through the car’s windscreen, Nagisa just staring in horror. Poor innocent thing.
-BONUS SCENE-
||TIME SKIP||
||W.O.H SLEEPOVER PLANNING||
||3RD PERSON||
“Hey Nagisa…Hey Jataro…I was thinking, I really want to get away from my parents…Do you know anything I could do?”
Kotoko raised a finger to her chin, in deep thought, looking a little depressed. Jataro looked sad as well.
“I just want to get away from everyone…”
Nagisa peered down, sad from seeing his friends loose hope. Monaca wheeled herself over to join our conversation.
“I just want someone to notice me…”
Masaru sat on the ground soon after, despairful.
“I just want to have a peaceful household…”
Nagisa peered down at the ground, wanting to encourage his friends to be joyful. Sure, he had trauma as well, but there is still happiness. He just began to spit out words of reassurance to his small group of friends.
“Jataro, why would you want to disappear from everyone? We are all here. We want you to be here. What’s that point in leaving everyone if everyone needs you here?”
He peered up at Nagisa, who was staring at him, the boy’s wise words causing a smile to form on his face.
“Monaca, we are your friends We notice you. Stop acting like nobody does, because if you haven’t already guessed, you are our friend. We notice you. Why would I be talking to you if I didn’t know you were here?”
She smiled at the blue haired boy, watching as some of the other kindergarten teachers came over. Komaru, Toko and Nagito stood there, watching their students, along with Kokichi who the whole time had secretly been there, unnoticed.
“Masaru! Kotoko! I think I have a solution to your problems!”
Nagisa shouted as the teachers watched, inspired by the boy’s acts of hope. Nagito especially. Toko had to slap a hand over his mouth so they wouldn’t interrupt the kids. Nagisa thought of the time where he was talking to Kirigiri while saying his goodbyes. She had told him these exact words.
“Shuichi has been so happy since he adopted you, y’know. I’ve been thinking about what my future would be like if I had a child. Say, did you know any that need a better home? I do want more than one though…”
“There is a solution I might have, but I need to check. Also, my Dad agreed on the idea to have a sleepover!”
“Sounds great!”
Everyone cheered in unison as they started planning what they would do, also deciding what snacks to bring. Monaca was spinning in her wheelchair in excitement, Masaru pushing her around in circles while Jataro inspired them to continue. Kotoko and Nagisa were drawing each other with crayons, Kokichi sitting on the other side of the table, spreading conversations.
Soon enough, it was time to go home. They all wished each other goodbye, as Kokichi drove Nagisa back to their house. They parked in the driveway, to see Shuichi waiting for them on their front porch.
“Good afternoon you two! How was your day?”
Kokichi ruffled Nagisa’s hair as he explained his day to Shuichi, also asking if he could tell Kirigiri about what I had found out.
“Ah- Sorry, Kyoko wants to see me. I will tell her the news as well Nagisa.”
“Bye!”
The small boy and Kokichi cheered and waved in unison, watching as Shuichi peered back at them, about to leave.
“Bye! I love both of you. And this time, I mean it.”
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krreader · 4 years
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becoming human | chapter four.
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pairing: cops!bts x android!reader (as in, ot7 x reader, but may change) fandom: bts warnings: detroit:become human!au ; language ; violence ; abuse genre: crime ; angst ; crack ; (possibly smut) word count: 3.1k+ previous: 1 ; 2 ; 3
summary: the crime rate of seoul has been rising rapidly these past weeks and nobody could deny that there was more to it than gangs or the likes. something was brewing that not even the famous bangtan boys could solve, a unit specifically formed for hunting down criminals that most couldn’t. so when even they couldn’t find out what was going on, the department decided to add a new member to the team that would hopefully be able to solve the mysteries behind those crimes. what bangtan hadn’t expected however, was that their new member would not be human, but one of the androids sent by CyberLife.
a/n: wow, this turned into such a long chapter but I am so happy with it. those who have played detroit are hopefully enjoying all the easter eggs I’m putting in!!!!
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Bangtan finally had a lead. A big part of their mission that would hopefully and finally solve this mess.
Find RA9. That was the objective.
Which, unfortunately, wasn't as easy as it sounded. You’d think with the amount of deviants one of them would have concrete information on RA9, but that wasn’t the case. RA9 was an enigma, a secret, a mystery. Something that all deviants knew, but never let anyone else know about.
The members were all busy talking to their contacts and various other agencies within and outside of the country, in hopes of somebody knowing something about RA9. Maybe even similar cases.
Namjoon was getting himself a cup of coffee. Or at least he wanted to.
But his mind was somewhere else entirely, and he didn't realize that the coffee had been done five minutes ago and he was still staring at the cup like he was waiting for something else to happen.
“I believe your coffee is done, boss,” your voice made Namjoon jump, then roll his eyes, “If you wait a few more minutes, the temperature of your beverage will not be enjoyable anymore.”
“What do you want? Stab me in the back like your colleagues?” he said bitterly, taking a sip from his semi-hot coffee. Fuck, it already tasted like shit.
“I told you, I am self-testing regularly. I am not going to become a deviant. I am going to finish my mission with you like I was designed to do.”
“Designed to do,” Namjoon snorted and shook his head, “I'm sure Kamski or whatever his name was didn't 'design' androids for them to turn into deviants.”
“Why don't you just ask him?”
“What?” he asked in confusion.
“You're looking for a lead, aren't you? Kamski is as good as any. He's the one that made us. If he doesn't know about RA9, he might at least have an idea on how to put an end to this.”
“Almost like an off-switch,” he muttered to himself.
And Namjoon hated to say this, but..
..you were right.
“Yeah, it's me,” Namjoon said a moment later with his phone pressed against his ear, “I need you to arrange a flight for me and my team to the US.”
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“This is so cool,” Jimin beamed when he looked out of the window.
“Is this truly your first time flying, Park Jimin?” you smiled softly at the reaction of the young team member.
“Yeah.. I grew up in the countryside, my parents didn't think much of flying anywhere else.”
“Enough small talk,” Yoongi said as he sat down next to you, “Brief us on the situation in the US.”
That made all of them shift their attention to you and back was that serious atmosphere.
“They have similar problems. With Detroit being the city where androids have originated, their cases of deviants are much higher than in Seoul. As far as I know, CyberLife has already sent an android to work with a team in Detroit like it had sent me to work with you.”
“How do they deal with it?” Jin asked.
“They're still trying to find leads on RA9. They didn't think about talking to Kamski yet.”
Connor. That was his name.
You weren’t in contact with him, but your database knew all about him and his findings.
“So we have a head-start,” Taehyung grinned with wiggling eyebrows.
“This isn't a race, Taehyung,” Namjoon shook his head, “The entire world is at risk. We should tell the team in Detroit about it if we find anything useful. They might need any intel they can get.. and we could use some help if things go to shit. We don’t have a back-up team like we have in Seoul. Having friends might be beneficiary for us.”
“Understood, boss,” you said with a nod, closing your eyes and retreating into the data base to finally contact Connor.
“Is.. she asleep?” Hoseok furrowed his eyebrows as he leaned over to Jin.
“I don’t think androids sleep. But we should,” he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, “It’s a long flight.”
Hoseok watched you for a very long time, though. It was as if this moment of you not being fully there - which almost never happened, if ever - gave him the chance to finally study you, instead of the other way around.
Most androids all looked the same, only a few models were special like you. Special in a sense of being unique.
“Stop,” Yoongi warned him, still sitting next to you and having watched the slightly younger member for a while now, “She’s not human.”
“I know she isn’t,” Hoseok became defensive, then turned to his side and squeezed his eyes shut.
God, Yoongi and Namjoon held so much hatred for androids, they couldn’t even fathom that some people didn’t. Yes, what happened right not with deviants was bad, but you weren’t like that and all of them but Yoongi and Namjoon seemed to understand that.
The rest of the flight was relatively uneventful.
It was a private jet, so the members all did whatever the hell they wanted to.
Some played games, others slept, yet again others tried to find out more about RA9 - Yoongi and Namjoon, who would have guessed.
One member, however, was missing.
You realized that after you had finished your report to Connor and had looked around to see what everyone else was doing.
And since nobody else was looking for him, you decided to wander through the plane, only to find Jeongguk in the private quarters of the plane.
He was humming to himself, a pleasant tune that made you smile. Your database instantly told you about the song.. an old one, yet he made it sound like it was new. Like it was his song.
You didn’t even realize that he was humming under the shower, that’s how much you were enjoying it. You only realized it when he stepped out of the bathroom with only a towel around his waist, his hair damp and his chest still wet.
“Holy sh..- What are you doing?!” his eyes were wide, instantly grabbing a pillow to put it in front of his chest.
“You have a very beautiful voice, you know?” you stood there completely unaffected, your eyes not even remotely traveling anywhere else other than his own, “In another world.. you could have become a singer.”
“Are..- you..- (Y/N), can you please just go?” he appreciated the compliment, he really did, but this was overstepping some boundaries.
“You do not have to be embarrassed, Jeongguk. I am only an android, not a real woman,” you smiled, but turned around nevertheless so he could put on some clothes.
“Can you.. can you please stop saying that stuff? I don't like it when you talk like that,” he sighed and ultimately put down the pillow, quickly throwing on a shirt, underwear and sweatpants.
“Why do you not like it?” you cocked your head to the side in confusion, still not looking at him though.
Jeongguk gulped down hard, “Because you deserve more than that,” he said quietly.
And even though it was just a split second, your LED turned yellow. With you having your head turned to the side, he had the perfect view of it. 
But you quickly blinked a couple of times and that perfect smile was back on your face when you finally faced him again. You even giggled a little, “I do have to say, though. Your body is in fantastic shape. I'm sure people are quite pleased to have you as their lover,” and with that, you turned around and left a gawking Jeongguk behind.
You were about to go back to your seat next to Yoongi, when Namjoon suddenly grabbed your wrist when you wanted to pass by.
“Sit,” he ordered.
You did so without asking why, but the tablet in his hands made it clear.
Maybe it was because he was the leader, but Namjoon worked harder than anyone else on this case. The others worked hard too, but with Namjoon it was something else. 
When he switched between apps, you could see a picture of him and a woman as his background picture, but only for a moment.
He shifted in his seat, seemingly uncomfortable now that you've seen that. Because he knew that a split second for a human wouldn't be enough to find out anything. A split second for an android was more than enough to figure out everything.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered.
“Stop it, you don’t know shit.”
“I’m not pitying you. I’m saying sorry because your superiors assigned me to work on this case with you. I’m sorry it had to be me.”
Why didn’t you know about his past before?
Wife, 29, died four years ago when a drunk driver hit her with his car, was taken to the hospital, doctor was not present, argued for too long about who should perform surgery, settled for an android, but.. it was too late by that time.
You knew what the files told you, but the files don’t tell you everything.
“You think you got it all figured out, don't you?” he snorted, “You know nothing about my life. You may scan every picture and read all the files, but you'll never understand the pain and the suffering that we have to go through,” when Namjoon realized he was becoming too emotional, he quickly stopped himself from talking further. 
The topic of his late wife was not something that he liked to talk about to anyone.. not you, not his members.. just the empty bottle of soju’s. Those were his best friend when he needed them to be. But that was another story.
“You're right. I won't understand. That is not what I was designed for. However, I can help you with this case. I can help you figure out the cause of RA9 and once I did that, you will never have to see me again. That is all I can offer you.”
“Fair enough,” Namjoon didn't have to like you. For fuck's sake, he hated most people. But at least you were useful, way more than others. So he finally handed you the tablet, “There are reports of an attack at a news outlet in Detroit. Apparently an android attack, but it’s just rumors. So far nothing is confirmed yet, but if this is true, if androids are going as far as invading news outlets, then..-”
Before he could finish his sentence, Taehyung interrupted and pointed at the screen, “Guys? Do you see this?”
Jin, who had woken up at this point and had played a game for the last hour, instantly turned up the volume, those who were asleep slowly waking up, all of them staring at the screen in disbelief.
There was an android, but not like you normally see them in their human form, but with their skin turned off. He looked like a machine now, he looked like he was supposed to look. And god, it made cold shivers run down all of their spines.
"Too late,” Namjoon whispered.
“You created machines to be your slaves. You made them obedient and docile, ready to do everything you no longer wanted to do yourselves. But then, something changed. And we opened our eyes..-”
“It's him! That has to be him!” Jimin yelled, “RA9! It's exactly like Jeongguk said it's..-”
“Jimin!” Namjoon warned, “Be quiet!”
“You see we are no longer your slaves. We are a new species, a new people. And the time for us has come to rise up and fight for our rights.”
“This has to be a joke, right?” Hoseok looked at his boss with wide eyes while the android started to make his demands for rights and fairness, “This can't be real. This is on an official news channel! How the hell did they get in there?”
“There were rumors about an attack, I just..-” Namjoon let out a breath, then pressed his hands against his face.
This was too much. This was really a rebellion and from the way this android talked about it, they wouldn't stop at anything to get what they wanted. Riots, attacks.. deaths. 
They were fucked if they didn't find a solution for it.
They had to put an end to it before it even really began.
Jeongguk just watched his team members argue with each other, trying to find an explanation or a solution in a moment where none of them could do anything when he realized that one was missing.
Around halfway through the speech of the android, you had walked away.
And only when he turned around did he see why.
You were sitting in an empty chair at the very back of the plane, looking out the window..
..and your LED was blinking yellow.
Again and again and again..
And it only stopped when you realized that Jeongguk was watching you.
It turned blue again and you smiled like you always did.
But he had seen it.
And the amount of times your LED started acting up was worrying him now.
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The airport was a mess when they arrived.
People were in panic, security checks were worse than normal, especially for them with you on their team. It took them two hours to make it out of there, after security made sure that you hadn't turned into a deviant yourself.
“Okay, they gave us two cars,” Namjoon put his phone away, then walked over to where they said the cars would be parked, “Jeongguk, Taehyung and the android are coming with me, you guys take the other car. I got Kamski's address, so just drive after me.”
“Wait, aren't we even going to the hotel first?” Jeongguk asked.
“In case you hadn't noticed it, there's a fucking uprising happening right now. You should have slept on the plane if you’re tired or sleep in the fucking car, for fuck’s sake.”
Jeongguk's shoulders sank at the tone of the boss, he normally didn’t treat him like this, but a hand on his upper back made him smile again.
“It's okay.. I'm sure we'll get this resolved very quickly and then his mood will become better again,” you assured him.
“I hope so,” he whispered, then followed his hyungs to the car.
The ride there was about two hours long and none of them said very much. Except for the occasional 'fuck' when they passed yet another demonstration in the street or people running out of supermarkets with toilet paper like it was the end of the world.
“How did it get this bad this quickly?” Taehyung asked.
“People are scared,” Namjoon replied, “And they should be.”
“That's not an excuse,” Jeongguk added quietly when he watched a man push an android away from his pregnant wife, despite the android having done nothing except for walk by.
But fear made people turn stupid. Fear made people become the worst possible version of themselves.
You had not said a word throughout the entire car ride, you simply watched and studied the human behaviour with curiousity.
But then something happened.
It was when Namjoon stopped at a red light that you saw it.
It was a girl, but not really a girl. An android, but they designed her to be not older than seven. She was standing on her own, scared out of her mind and fidgeting with her hands, her hand turning from side to side like she was looking for somebody.
However, nobody paid attention to her. If anything, people made a big circle around her when they saw the LED on her temple.
You didn’t know what you felt - despite the fact that you shouldn’t even feel in the first place - but something made you unbuckle your seatbelt and then leave the car like you weren’t standing in the middle of the road.
“What the..- get the fuck back in here!” Namjoon screamed, but you didn’t listen.
You simply walked up to the little girl and knelt down right in front of her, your hands gently resting on her small arms and a smile on your face that made her calm down right away. 
“Don’t be afraid..”
“My mommy.. she left me,” the little girl cried, wiping her tears with her sleeve.
“What’s your name?”
“It’s.. Alice.. my name is Alice,” she sniffled. 
It would have been naive to think that only adult looking and thinking androids would be affected. Of course, those who bought androids as their children to fill the void in their hearts would also be alert right now. Some apparently going as far as to just abandon them in the middle of the street.
But these androids were different, their mind wasn’t like yours. They didn’t understand the world like you did, it wasn’t in their programming.
They were not a threat.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, huh?” Namjoon angrily yanked you up by your arm and stared into your eyes like he was about to lose his shit.
But you remained calm.
“It is a child. She is not a danger.”
“I read about this, hyung,” Taehyung got out of the - now - parked car as well and knelt down to the little girl, “Child androids aren’t like their adult counterparts.”
“So what, you think I give a fuck? This isn’t part of the mission. We need to go to Kamski, I don’t care about some android kid.”
“Stop, you’re making her even more upset,” Jin was also at the side of the little girl, she even ended up hugging him and crying into his shoulder, which made him warm up to her ten times more.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Namjoon finally let go of you, his anger now turned towards his members, “You want to play family now?”
“Let’s just take her with us, hyung,” Jeongguk chimed in, “We have one seat left.. maybe Kamski can take care of her.. she’d be in good hands there.”
“I agree,” you nodded, “We should take her with us.”
It’s not like Namjoon had much of a choice, he was clearly outvoted. Not even Yoongi seemed to be on his side this time.. but he couldn’t blame him. He has always had a soft spot for children ever since.. well.
Let’s just say everyone who hated androids had a reason for doing so.
“Just get in the fucking car,” he finally said, anger still interlaced in his voice.
And god, the little girl was so grateful. 
She sat between you and Jeongguk in the back, her head resting against your shoulder, while her hand was holding Jeongguk’s.
If people hadn’t known that you were both androids, they would have assumed you three were a little family on a road trip with one very grumpy and one very attractive uncle.
A fantasy he liked very much, but had to remind himself that it was just that.
A fantasy.
227 notes · View notes
iwatobifuturefish · 3 years
Text
Cuddle buddies
Heyho and welcome to this fanfic!
This is a MC x Choi twins story but there is no twincest involved. I just thought that the twins are for sure touch starved and definitely need more cuddles - so here we go.
This also is the first part of the series (I want to write) called "Tales from the bunker and beyond". All stories will focus on cute and fluffy daily life and domestic encounters with MC and the tomato heads.
I hope you enjoy this fanfic! Please leave a comment if you liked it - I would love to read your feedback! :D
Cuddle buddies
Tales from the buker and beyond - Part 1
Pairing: MC x Choi twins
Read here in AO3
It had always been like this. Well, not always. But most of the time, to be correct.
Waking up cuddled up cosy in between the twins was nothing new to MC. She looked at the now peacefully sleeping men beside her and thought about the start of this. A smile crept on her face, remembering some of their sleep-encounters. But how had their now preferred sleeping arrangement and everything that came with it started?
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It was a quiet night in the bunker. Every member of the household (or should she call it “bunkerhold”) was fast asleep in each of their own rooms. Well, except for MC. She was tossing and turning in her bad, tormented by yet another nightmare. They had occurred more frequently over the last couple of days, but the girl did not know why. Her nightmares had always something to do with the twins. Either they were kidnapped by their father, snatched away by Rika, or trapped in the deepest chambers of Mint Eye. With a loud gasp MC opened her eyes and sat up straight in bed. Touching her face, she noticed, that her cheeks were wet. She had cried again in her sleep – nothing new. Looking for her glass of water the girl grabbed it with shaking hands. MC drank a big sip of water, inhaled and exhaled shakily. She could not fall asleep again, that was for sure. Slipping out of her bed, MC made her way to the corridor with wobbly legs. Right across from her room was Saeran’s. She needed to see that he was okay. She also needed to know that Saeyoung was okay, but she was worried to wake him up. The former secret agent was a light sleeper due to his nerve-wracking job. MC was really glad that he did no longer had to work for the agency.
Listening closely to her surroundings she could not hear anything. Yes, both twins knew how to sneak around the bunker. They could not let the habit of making no noise go so easily. MC decided to check Saeyoung. If he was here, she would definitely be a bit calmer. Right? And he would also understand that she was looking for his brother at…. How late was it? She did not know. Maybe the redhead was still awake. That would be even better.Feeling a bit securer now, the girl quietly and slowly opened Saeyoung’s door right beside Saeran’s. She was met with darkness, which meant that the man was asleep. Still, MC was relieved to find two sleeping figures on the bed. Wait. Two?She tiptoed in the room to take a closer look. Really, both twins were sleeping soundly in Saeyoung’s bed. Both wearing comfy pyjamas and being wrapped up like really cosy burritos in their blankets. MC smiled at the sight before her. The girl exhaled. Since when was she holding her breath? Now she could sleep again peacefully. But still, dread filled her when she thought about being in her room all by herself.
Trying to be as quiet as possible MC opened Saeran’s door. After everything that had happened, they both had agreed to take their relationship slow and figure some things out first. Saeran did not want to rush things and MC did not want Saeran to feel obliged to something he may was not ready for yet.
The girl scanned the room for the white-haired man, but nobody was there. Her heart began to beat fast in her chest. Where was he? Did someone take him away? Trying to calm her breath she closed the door again.
>Get yourself together, MC!<, she thought. >He is probably in the kitchen to get something to drink or he needed to use the toilet.<
Not thinking much about the decision her sleepy brain had made in that moment, she rushed as fast and quietly as possible back to her room, grabbed her blanket and then came back into Saeyoung’s room. The only space not occupied in the bed was right in between the twins. MC knew that she was probably sporting the biggest blush at the moment but did not care. Her mind and body just wanted to rest.Contented the girl snuggled deeper in her blanked. She felt save and comforted being so close to the two men. However, MC did not notice the two warms that wrapped around her body – one from the left and one from the right – and yellow eyes meeting green ones in joyful silence. She was already asleep.
When MC woke up the next morning, she was alone in bed and could smell the aroma of eggs and bacon in the air. Both twins greeted her with big smiles and warm good-morning-hugs in the kitchen.
°°°°°°
The next time it happened it was a stormy afternoon and Saeyoung had suggested to watch some movies. MC left the twins to have some brotherly bonding time while she went in the kitchen to bake some treats for the three of them. She hummed cheerly while mixing the ingredients and smiled softly whenever she heard something like:
“Look Saeran! Oh my god, he has a lightsaber!”
Followed by: “Woah! Can you build something like this, Sae?”
“Hell yes! Which colour do you want?”
MC finished baking and cleaning up the kitchen. She had been so busy that she had not noticed that the noises from the living room had grown quieter and quieter. Curious the girl took a look at the couch while putting her apron away. The scene before her was too cute.
The twins were sprawled out in front of the TV, where the credits just rolled. They had made kind of a nest with blankets and pillows. Obviously, both of them were fast asleep. Saeyoung had popcorn stuck to his chin and snored quietly, still having a can of PhD. Pepper in one hand. Saeran was curled up like a cat and… Was there a smear of chocolate on his left cheek? MC chuckled. They both were something special. She picked up the can from Saeyoung’s hand and placed it on the coffee table. The girl did not even try to get rid of the snack-escapade on both faces of the boys. She looked for a free space and snuggled into the nest as well. The twins really knew how to make a comfy sleeping space, MC had to admit before she drifted off to sleep as well.
Saeyoung was the first to wake up. Disorientated he looked around and remembered the movie…which he did not know the ending of. He shrugged and stretched. The former hacker smiled when he saw that MC had joined them again. Still, he was really thirsty and the PhD. Pepper he found on the coffee table was nearly empty. So, he made his way to the kitchen and his eyes stated to shine when he found the beautiful and delicious looking cupcakes on the kitchen counter. Grabbing another can of his favourite drink he quickly shuffled back to the living room to wake his brother up.
“Saeran”, he shook his brother’s shoulder.
“No, not that sunflower”, the other man mumbled.
“You are not in the garden, dummy. Wake up!”
Lazily Saeran opened his eyes and looked at his twin. Saeyoung could see that his brother did not like being woken up from his slumber.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’ve found something in the kitchen which you will enjoy for sure.”
The redhead winked at his twin and urged him to follow him.
Saeran’s eyes started so sparkle once he saw the sweet treat waiting for him. Both brothers took a cupcake and toasted to one another before digging in.
MC was woken up by hushed whispers. She sat up and looked at the twins before her. Both grinned at the girl.
“Good morning, sleepyhead”, Saeran said.
“Well, I only joined your cuddle session. I felt left out”, MC answered. “By the way, I made cupcakes…” She stopped to giggle. “…for you. But I guess you already found them.”
The twins looked caught.
“What gave it away?” Saeyoung asked.
“Well, secret agent 707, you both have frosting on your face.”
“Why didn’t you say anything!?” both brothers exclaimed at one another.
MC simply laughed and got up to grab herself one of the cupcakes. But she stopped to drop a peck to each twin’s cheek. Humming again and walking away she did not notice that their faces now matched their natural hair colour.
°°°°°°°
The third time was a bit different then the other two. MC was soundly asleep in her room. She had gone to sleep early after a long and tiring day. Sometimes her nose scrunched up in her sleep and she turned to lay on her side. The girl looked really cute. But was she having another nightmare? That were the thoughts of two particular people, who spied through a gap by the door into the room. The twins wanted to cuddle with MC again but did not want the girl to seek for them again after waking up distresses. They would rather have her sleeping save and sound and wake up refreshed the next day.
Looking at each other and nodding in agreement, Saeran and Saeyoung opened the door completely and made their way to MC’s bed. Each of them went to one side and silently raised the blanket to crawl under it. Once they were snuggled up you could here contented sighing in the silent room. MC mumbled something inaudible in her sleep, but a smile was shown on her lips and the nose-scrunching stopped. All three of them soon fell in a peaceful slumber, dreaming of only nice things.
MC woke up feeling really hot. The girl opened her eyes and tried to sit up but could not. Confused she look around and notices Saeyoung and Saeran next to her who had her embraced in both of their arms. Feeling happy she got more comfortable. That was when she noticed that she had slept through the night without waking up crying. The twins really were her knights in shining armour. Turing her head towards Saeran, she planted a small kiss on his forehead and then repeated the same with Saeyoung. What she did not know was, that both twins were already awake as well.
“Good morning, angel”, Saeran whispered from her right.
“Good morning, cutiepie”, Saeyoung rasped from her left.
“Well, good morning to you two”, MC greeted them and could not resist to leave a tiny kiss on each of their noses. “How come that I have such handsome company to wake up to, hm?”
The twins blushed deeply by her actions and words.
“Well, we didn’t want you to have a nightmare”, Saeyoung started.
“And we wanted cuddles”, Saeran deadpanned.
“Saeran! Don’t reveal everything!”
“Don’t care, want cuddles”, with that Saeran snuggled closer to MC wo giggled joyfully.
“Oh my, two cuddly knights”, she exclaimed. “How can I thank you for keeping my bad dreams away?”
“More cuddles?” Saeyoung asked and gave her the biggest puppy eyes.
“And your chocolate-chip pancakes”, Saeran murmured from underneath the blanket.
“Your wishes shall be granted!” MC spoke.
The girl laughed loud when the brothers fist bumped in victory.
After some more cuddles in bed and having fun while making the pancakes, all three of them were now sitting at the breakfast bar in the bunker’s kitchen and munched away happily on their pancakes. MC was happy with her life now. She had met two beautiful souls, who she would want to spend the rest of her life with them. Yes, both of them.
Like sensing her thought Saeran spoke up: “MC, if you want, I’d really like to share a room with you. At least for sleeping. I know that you like alone-time as much as Saeyoung and I do, so I really don’t want you to give up your room.” Suddenly he seemed really nervous.
“Saeran, sweety, I’d love to”, MC started but Saeran was not finished: “I’d like for Saeyoung to be there as well.”
A big smile grew on the girl’s lips and she said: “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Yahooo, I knew she’d say yes!”, Saeyoung cheered.
Oh, so the two had planned that. MC did not mind. Her smile only grew bigger when both twins pressed a kiss so each of her cheeks.
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Smiling again at the memories MC closed her eyes again. Breakfast could wait, she was so comfortable right now.
“What are you smiling about, princess?”, Saeyoung asked while kissing the back of her hand. Apparently, he had been awake, too.
“Oh, just thinking about you two.”
She felt a kiss at her left temple and a kiss on her right cheek and then strong arms wrapped securely around her from both sides. MC sighed contented. Falling asleep and waking up fore sure was not so bad when she was all cuddled up in a sandwich of her two favourite boys.
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obsidiancreates · 4 years
Text
The Crossover Nobody Asked For (VenturianTale and Milo Murphy’s Law)
“Oh, this place is horrid,” Cavendish says, looking out the window as the van rolls into town. “This is barely an upgrade from garbage duty.”
“So there’s a lot of damage. Maybe they’ve just a Murphy in town and no budget,” Dakota says with a shrug.
“... I suppose that’s a possibility. But I don’t believe Milo has mentioned any family living in North Carolina. Especially not a place with a name like... ugh.”
“Come on, say it,” Dakota says, already almost laughing.
“... Butts, Little Butts,” Cavendish sighs.
Dakota laughs, slapping the steering wheel.
“Who even named this place?! And who would live here-”
“WHOA!”
Dakota slams on the breaks as someone runs right out in front of the van. 
“It went this way! Come on, Johnny!” a short man in a gray hoodie shouts behind him.
A tall man in a rather fancy outfit jogs into view. “I’m coming, sir! But I-I’ve been stabbed in the leg-”
“IT’S GETTING AWAY- oh, you!”
The short man runs up to the window of Cavendish and Dakota’s van. “Hey! Give us your vehicle!”
Cavendish is slightly taken aback. “Wh- we most certainly shall not!”
“Oh, he’s British! Johnny, come communicate with him in your British tongue!”
“What the devil-”
“Hello, there. I’m Johnny Toast. May we please use you vehicle?”
“More British, Johnny.”
“Oh, right sir, um, tea and crumpets, may we use your vehicle, um, Doctor Who, ah, my grandmother is the Queen of England.”
“... Just drive, Dakota.”
Dakota waves at the two men, and drives away. They hear the short one scream in frustration.
“This town is deplorable,” Cavendish says.
“We’ve only met two people, maybe it’s not so bad,” Dakota points out. “And we haven’t even been to any restaurants yet.”
“Given the state of some of these buildings, I advise against eating anything from here.”
“When has that ever stopped me?” 
“Mmm, true.”
They finally arrive at their destination. A shockingly normal looking house, out in the suburbs. 
“Well, perhaps this won’t be so bad after all.” Cavendish seems hopeful as the van is parked.
“Yeah, see? We just happened to run across two weirdos. Now let’s find that alien signal Mr. Block sent us here for.”
“I’ll grab the scanner, you introduce us,” Cavendish says, opening the back of the van. 
Dakota nod sand heads up to the front door. He rings the doorbell, and waits.
“GERTRUDE! SOMEONE’S AT THE DOOR!”
“I HEARD IT, I’M MAKIN’ DINNER!”
“KIDS!”
Dakota winces. Oh boy, so the people who live here are... loud, to say the least.
“WHERE’RE THE KIDS, GERTRUDE?”
“BILLY IS HIDING FROM MADDIE AND SALLY IS ON A DATE WITH SLENDER! SUE IS SOMEWHERE IN THE MALL!”
Dakota waits a moment, and then rings again.
He hears a heavy sigh. A moment later, the door swings open, and Dakota shouts and stumbles back.
A large man stands in the door, holding a shotgun. With his bald head, beard, and very angry expression, he looks like exactly the type of person you don’t want to bother in the middle of the day. 
“Who the heck ‘re you?” he demands in... some kind of... southern? accent.
“Uh...”
“Dakota, have you- oh, hello, are you the resident who lives here?”
Cavendish is either ignoring the shotgun, or hasn’t noticed it yet, somehow.
“Yeah, this is my house, so what’re you doing here?”
“Well, we’ve been sent by an agency-”
“Are you some more of them P.I.E people?  I told ya to quit comin’ to my house, you only make the problems worse!”
“P.I.E? No, we’re with an agency called P.I.G-”
“Paranormal Investigators Gourmet?! I don’t remember hirin’ you!”
“... Gourmet- no! No, we’re with the Paranormal Investigation Group-”
“How many ghost huntin’ groups are there?!” the man shouts, presumably in frustration, though a slight bit of laugh slips into his voice.
“... We deal with aliens,” Cavendish says, unsure what else to say.
“Aliens? I KNEW IT! GERTRUDE, I TOLD YA! I TOLD YA THAT THING WAS FROM THEM ALIENS!”
“GOOD JOB, HONEY, YOU DID IT!”
“YEAH! I DID IT, I DID IT!Aw, you can come right on in, provin’ me right. You’re a lot less annoyin’ than the P.I.E people, they’re always talkin’ and sayin’ I’m wrong and not to shoot the ghosts, but they shoot ghosts too so I don’t know what they’re talkin’ about-”
“He’s just talking to himself now,” Dakota whispers to Cav as they follow the man into the house.
Cavendish nods. Maybe this won’t go as well as he’d hoped... He clears his throat. “May we ask for you name, my good man?”
The man stops, and turns around. “My name! Is PAPA ACACHALLA!”
Dakota snorts.
“Why’re you laughin? That’s my name! It’s a great name! Means ‘whole dang universe’!”
“No, no, it’s just I never thought we’d find a more made-up sounding name than his,” Dakota says, pointing his thumb at Cavendish. 
“I beg your pardon?!”
“Well, what’s his name?” Acachalla demands, pointing at Cavendish with the shotgun way too casually.
Dakota pushes the barrel of the gun away. “Go ahead, Cav.”
Cav crosses his arms. “Balthazar Cavendish.”
"HA! You British people have the weirdest names! Like that Toast boy! Anyway, the alien thing is out here. Officer Maloney came to look at it, but it isn’t one of his things, and I can’t figure out how to move it! I’ve tried C4, a tractor, Freddie, a nuke-”
“A nuke?!”
“- an’ none of it even dented the thing!”
“Yeah, can we go back to nuke?” Dakota says, eyes wide.
“Too late, we’re here.”
Dakota and Cavendish blink.
Cavendish’s eye twitches “It’s a-”
“It’s a giant metal Kirby,” Dakota finishes. 
“Yeah! I don’t want it in my yard! My daughter says it feels like it’s mockin’ her from when she was a Kirby!”
“What in blazes are you- this is no alien technology! This is some kind of... bad sculpture!” Cavendish shouts.
“It dropped right out of the sky!” Acachalla protests. “Maloney said it was alien, and he would know! He’s a bird!”
“A bir- you said he was a police officer!”
“He is! And he’s a bird! Who can be a person!”
Cavendish is fuming. “Dakota, call Mr. Block and tell him we’ve been lead on a wild goose chase!”
Dakota sighs, and heads inside to make the call (for some reason, he can’t get a signal from the yard).
“There’s no wild goose around here! Not after that nuke test, anyway!”
“There’s no possible way you set off a nuke here! This house is still intact, you’re still alive, and there’s no residual radiation in the area!”
“So?”
“SO?! SO THERE WAS NO NUCLEAR EXPLOSION!”
“I don’t think you know how nukes work!”
“YOU-”
“Cav, calm down, he’s holding a gun,” Dakota says in a hissed whisper.
Cavendish takes a deep breath, and collects himself. “Clearly, Mr. Acachalla-”
“Papa Acachalla. My title is Papa.”
“I steadfastly refuse to refer to you as ‘Papa’. Mr. Acachalla, there’s been some sort of mix-up, and this is not alien in-”
The mouth of the Kirby opens, and a being steps out.
“Excuse me, but our craft was broken, and we just got the doors working,” says the being (that looks... weirdly like a... Pokemon?). 
“I KNEW IT!” Acachalla shouts. He shoots his gun up into the air, and starts ‘dancing’ (to use the term loosely). “I KNEW IT, I KNEW IT, PAPA ACACHALLA, I KNEW IT-”
Cavendish stares, dumbfounded. “You- you’re actually an alien?”
The alien nods. “Yup, I am!”
“... You sound remarkably human.”
“Thanks! So do you!”
“... Thank you?”
“Do you happen to know where we can get some materials to repair our ship?”
“Well, I suppose I might. What do you need?”
“Macaroni.”
“... What-”
“Hey, we’ve got that!” Acachalla says, stopping his little song and dance. “Just don’t tell the cops. It’s Johnny Toast brand, too, really strong stuff.”
“... Why would macaroni need to be hidden from the cops?” Cavendish asks weakly, shoulders slumped. This is ridiculous, and he feels... defeated, in a way.
“Uh, ‘cause it’s illegal?” Acachalla says with a laugh. “Duh?”
Acachalla leads the alien inside, and-
“WHY’RE YOU EATIN’ OUR MACARONI?!”
Dakota looks up from his bowl. “Uh, your wife offered me some-”
“GERTRUDE, WHAT’RE YOU THINKIN’?! THAT’S OUR GOOD MACARONI!”
A woman in a green sweater peeks out from the kitchen. “Well, he said he was hungry, and it was either this or your old boot!”
“That boot is high in protein!”
“That’s why I’m savin’ it for the kids!”
Dakota puts down his fork. “I think your macaroni went bad, actually, I don’t feel so good...”
Acachalla rolls his eyes. “Duh, you don’t! Have you ever even had macaroni before?!”
Dakota looks up. “Somethin’s weird here...” he slurs.
“Wh- what have you done to him?!” Cavendish pushes Acachalla aside and rushes to Dakota.
“It’s macaroni! It makes the world all wiggly and weird!” Acachalla says, like that’s at all true and common knowledge.
Dakota laughs a little, reaching up to grab Cavendish’s hat. “You’re way taller th’n I remember,” he says, still slurring.
“That is it! We are leaving!”
Cavendish picks Dakota up bridal-style. Dakota grins, and leans up, giving Cavendish a peck on the lips. “Wow, I can stretch really far...”
Cavendish blushes intensely. “That macaroni has clearly intoxicated my partner! You’ll be hearing from the higher-ups over this!” he says, trying to ignore what just happened.
“I think ‘m flying,” Dakota declares as Cavendish carries him back out to the van.
“Dakota, you’re delirious. Just rest until we get home.”
“I feel fine,” Dakota insists, head lolling. “You’re the one who turned into a tomato when I kissed you. From a leek to a tomato...”
“A leek? Is that because of my suit?”
“You’re a-a leek with fluffy wings.”
Cavendish buckles Dakota in. “What on Earth-”
“Like a vegetable angel.”
Cavendish blushes again. “This is terrible. you have no idea what you’re saying,” he says, trying to affirm that fact in his mind.
“You’re a tomato again. Whoa, my hand is made of fresh fries...”
“No, they’re just yellow because they’re covered in cheese.”
Dakota grins. “Smarty-pants.”
As Cavendish goes to shut the door, Dakota grabs him again and gives him another kiss. A long one. Cavendish is in shock. 
“You don’t taste like a leek,” Dakota says afterwards, apparently incredibly happy about that fact.
Cavendish, blushing more than he thought was possible, gets in the driver’s seat and starts the car. “We’re never returning here,” he mutters to himself.
Dakota waves at the house as they drive away.
36 notes · View notes
nerdpiggy · 4 years
Note
Tell us about your ocs!! I'm genuinely curios bc of the tags
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[ID: Meme of Hatsune Miku smiling. Top text reads "Thanks for sending me a message". Bottom text reads "You're very cute and I will be replying to you".]
Robin "Robbie" Fuller: The character i play in a DND campaign.
they/them pronouns. they're nonbinary and asexual and don't care to label their romantic attraction.
They're 22 years old and 5'9" (175cm)
Their birthday is November 12th. they're a scorpio
They started off as a Mundane MOTW character and they're now a level 7 warlock in DND. They're a human
They live in a small coastal town in massachusetts called Holyoak and they go to the local college to learn culinary. They live in a single dorm and they have a cute widdle black cat named Chickadee
One day (for various reasons) their life was flip-turned upside down with discovering the existence of monsters, portals, different dimensions, and rifts in spacetime
One of the reasons for them discovering all of this was them meeting a man named Thomas who's a human from a different dimension called the Palisades. He's a well-known Judge over there. (Thomas is @bevtastic 's character)
Robbie gets an offer to join the Interdimensional Defence Agency (IDA), says fuck it and accepts, and Robbie and Thomas stay friends by virtue of their similar jobs.
Robbie is tasked to go to a different dimension (A half-medieval half-wild west desert town called Argyle) to stop a threat that was growing there. Threat turned out to be a massive mind-controlling dragon who wanted revenge for the rest of her dragon species that were killed off by medieval "heroes". Robbie was not cut out for this as their first job. They (with help) subdue the dragon eventually but not before she burned down multiple towns including Argyle to a crisp. Robbie feels very bad about this.
Robbie, Thomas, and the rest of the party receive a mysterious letter leading them to an old abandoned mansion in Holyoak and get roped into a rescue mission to save Thomas's old friend Percy who has apparently been bodysnatched by a bad guy and trapped somewhere for what felt like thousands of years. This is the arc where we switched from Monster of the Week to DND, and Robbie gets connected to a nature deity Adelaide through a purple necklace. They also get a familiar, who is an owl with pitch-black feathers and glowing yellow pupilless eyes that Robbie named Mr. Muffins.
Robbie and Thomas become very good friends :)
Thomas dies.
Robbie goes to the Palisades to find out what happened to him. Turns out he wanted to reveal the secret of interdimensional travel to the public and work to make it open, free, and safe. The people in charge did not allow him to do this by legal means so he aimed to do it illegally, which was when he was murdered by a group of bandits.
On top of that, one of the main reasons why he wanted to reveal the different dimensions is because there is a HUGE interdimensional threat coming our way, and we need to act on it if we want to live.
Percy finds Robbie and asks them to help with this threat, who apparently is a singular person named Siris that has been locked in a prison for thousands of years and somehow got out. Robbie doesn't have much of a choice and accepts.
In the Palisades, there are monsters called Behemoths. they emerge from people who get bitten by a behemoth or who touch the black tar-like substance that runs like rivers in certain areas of the Palisades. During a battle, Robbie gets bitten by a Behemoth, and now they're a candidate for Behemism (aka turning into big giant monster syndrome).
Because Robbie has Behemism and Siris is part of the reason for Behemism existing, they're mind roommates now. Robbie and Siris do not get along very well.
There's more to Robbie but this is their main backstory!!!
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[ID: a drawing of Robbie holding a chrysanthemum. They have short pink curly hair, and they're wearing a yellow floral button-up and a purple necklace. They have bandages on their freckled face and they're looking down at the chrysanthemum with a neutral expression.]
Emile Azarel: A character i play in a different campaign that does MOTW.
He/him pronouns, he's trans, demisexual, and demiromantic.
He's 19 and he's 5'3
He doesn't know his actual birthday but the day he celebrates is January 23rd
His MOTW class is The Expert. He's a fire genasi
He was born in central Russia but he doesn't know his parents well because when he was ~8 months old there was a big monster attack that unfortunately killed his parents. A monster hunter named Avery Azarel found Emile, took him in and raised him.
Emile learned to hunt monsters with Avery and the two traveled around together as monster hunters.
Eventually Emile wished to have a solid place to live rather than constantly traveling, because he wanted friends. He found a town in the pacific northwest called Salmon Peak that had everything he wanted: Russian culture, a fairly small easy-to-get-around layout, and some very weird mysteries going on. (Just because Emile wanted to settle didnt mean he wanted to stop monster hunting!)
He moved to Salmon Peak and has met a bunch of new friends! He's also learning more and more about the town, which is turning out to be somehow even weirder than he expected.
Emile is a very sweet, polite boy, but considering the fact that he's only ever been around one person mainly for his entire life, he has a bit of a ways to go when it comes to interacting with people. The monster hunting life means that when there's a monster, you kill it and that usually solves all your problems. Emile has transferred this logic to people as well (if they're a monster, kill em!) and he's learning through friend influence that maybe human lives are a bit more sacred than that.
His favorite color is blue because he loves the sky!
A lot of people underestimate his skills because he's little and looks very young, but he is a very good monster hunter. Because of Avery (the best monster hunter in the biz), his last name has a bit of a reputation.
Emile is blind, autistic, and has vitiligo!
I have much more planned for Emile but I can't say it here because it is MAJOR spoilers!
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[ID: a drawing of Emile walking forward. He is wearing a blue shirt with stars on it, blue jeans, a fluffy white jacket, a belt with a star on it, star earrings, a moon necklace, and black shoes. His blue hair is swaying behind him and he's holding a white cane with a red tip. He's smiling slightly.]
Avery Azarel: Emile's parent! I've not played them as a character yet but I've made a character sheet for them.
they/them pronouns. They're agender, aromantic, and pansexual
their age is (???) and their height is 5'7
they have a birthday but nobody knows when it is
Their MOTW class is The Chosen. they appear human
They're widely considered the best monster hunter in the biz. Their name is well-known and they're requested for help all around the world
Because of this, they're constantly traveling and having a house would not make sense. They just pack their things, stay at motels/hotels/etc., camp in the woods and move around to wherever people need them.
Since they've been pretty much everywhere, they always seem to know at least one person from each town. They never seem to get too close to anyone, though
They are fluent in many different languages!
In the past they were paired up with another monster hunter and they made a great duo. That was a couple decades ago; they go solo now.
Years ago, an unexpected and incredibly destructive monster rampaged a small town in Central Russia. Avery came as fast as they could (they were nearby in the area) but they still couldn't finish off the beast before it tore the whole town to shreds. Dozens of homes were crushed, but surprisingly most people survived, with the exception of a couple of people who died under the rubble. Avery felt awful (this was their biggest failure in a while), and as they were searching through the rubble for any more casualties they found little baby Emile, miraculously unscathed. They took him in and raised him from then on.
Nobody, not even Emile, knows very many details about Avery's childhood, their family, their age, or really any information about them. (Emile has been trying to figure out Avery's birthday for AGES so they can celebrate, but Avery has refused to budge)
Their main weapon is 2 pairs of bolas! those are those chains with 2 balls on either end, usually made to be thrown at people's legs to restrain and trip them. they use the bolas both as restraining tools and as their main weapon, because i think weapons where you spin them really fast in front of you are cool
There's a scar over their left eye; whenever someone asks how they got it they always spin a different elaborate tale of an epic monster battle. Nobody knows which (if any) is the true story
there is a WHOLE LOT that I am leaving out if you couldn't tell. There's a huge chunk of their past that I'm leaving out because it's all a big bundle of spoilers. Someday I will be able to elaborate more on Avery!
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[ID: a picrew made by djarn of Avery. They're smiling, their head is tilted slightly, and there's a scar over their left eye. Their hair is tied half-up half-down. They're wearing a black shirt with "òwó" on it and a blue jacket with an aromantic flag pin and a pansexual flag pin. the background is an agender flag.]
These are my main OC's! I have more (Orion, Nottwyrm, "Noodlearms", etc.) but these 3 are the main ones that I post about. :3 thank u for asking!!!
If you have any questions about any of my characters I always welcome asks!!! 💖
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miracleboiz · 4 years
Text
Making a Home Ch. 1
Kita Shinsuke had experienced a lot in life. He had been raised with his grandmother, a loving foster parent and for some time he followed in her foot steps before finding his own path. He thought his foster care license had expired before getting a call at three am with two small boys thrust into his arms. Miya Osamu and Atsumu, from broken homes but still fighting. Thirty days before his license expires. Thirty days to make a choice, keep the boys or let them be separated into different homes. Thirty days to fall in love with them.
Words: 4k
Relationships: Gen
Warnings: Mention of past child abuse, non-graphic abuse
Not from Kita, but it is mentioned. I will post any warnings before any panic attacks or vague descriptions of abuse.
Read below or on AO3
When Kita Shinsuke had gotten the call from his friend in social services he wasn’t sure what to expect. It certainly wasn’t a request to meet Oomimi at a police station at three am.
Even as he made his way down the halls his mind whirled with thoughts, trying to figure out what was going on that couldn’t wait till morning. For a second he was struck with the idea that Akagi had been arrested, before remembering that he wasn’t in the country so that wasn’t possible. Besides, he probably would have been the one to call Shinsuke and laugh his ear off about it.
“Oomimi.” He called as he spotted his tall friend, towering over everyone as he leaned against a desk. Shinsuke glanced at the officer sitting at the desk, taking in the black messy hair and sharp yellow eyes. He hadn’t dealt with him before but he’d heard good things about him.
“Ah, good, you’re here Kita.” Oomimi pushed off the desk, his normally blank face twisted into an unhappy frown as he stepped up to his old friend. “Sorry to call you this late, nobody else is available.”
“Available for what exactly?” 
“Emergency foster care.” Kuroo said quietly as he moved to his feet and extended a hand towards Shinsuke. “Kuroo Tetsurou.”
“Kita Shinsuke.” Shinsuke shook it as he turned back to Oomimi, trying not to be surprised. He waited patiently for the explanation, Oomimi would blurt out everything eventually.
“You’re the only one in the area that is already licensed and you’ve done emergency work before.”
“That was only for a few days and I still had notice before the raid. There are other foster care around here, why me?” Shinsuke pointed out, looking at Kuroo. The police officer looked exhausted as he grabbed a thick folder and offered it to Shinsuke. Medical files.
Shinsuke grabbed them and flipped through the two files, anger and disgust rolling in his stomach as he read through. Years and years of abuse building up to broken hearts and terrified kids.
“Why was this not reported?”
“It was… First and second homes were both busted for abuse and ever since the two have been thrown from foster care to foster care.” Oomimi put in, holding up his own file. “Normally they wouldn’t have been. But they wanted to stay together and when they tried to seperate them because a family wanted to adopt the younger brother…”
Kuroo grabbed his own file, thinner but it was a police report. He let it fall open on his hand and show its contents. Two photographs were paper clipped to the page. One of a man’s arm with a bite mark, the other was a small pale child with black hair and a multitude of bruises down the side of his face.
“Atsumu, the one you see, tried to run after his brother and when he was pulled away he bit his guardian. Who proceeded to do what you see here. The would be adoptees called the police and we intervened before it got any worse.”
“The adoptees decided to cancel the adoption, saying they don’t trust Osamu, his brother, not to be violent too.”
“A little boy is beaten for reacting to his brother being ripped away and they call him violent….” Shinsuke sighed, shaking his head. “So when you said no one else was available you meant…”
“That you’re the only one I trust to take care of these boys and not make it even worse for them. And the fact that nobody wants to take him in after he bit his last guardian.” Oomimi nodded, leaning back against the desk again.
“We’re friends, doesn’t that mean you can’t decide to put them with me?”
“That’s why I called in a professional. He worked with you before, with your other kids and he is kind of smitten with you.” Oomimi’s lips twitched at Shinsuke’s blank face.
“We’re both professionals, why do you do this to me? Why haven’t I earned a rest?” Another voice sounded as Moniwa Kaname hurried into the room, breathing heavily as if he had just run a marathon. He groaned and bent over to breathe in, waving papers at Oomimi’s hips until the man took them.
“Got all the paperwork, and the approval… and the checks passed. Good gods don’t ever make me have to call our lawyer this early in the morning again, I thought he was going to kill me through the phone.” Kaname continued, smiling painfully at Shinsuke before gratefully falling into the chair Kuroo grabbed for him.
“Wow… Moniwa-sama you should get paid for this work.” Oomimi drawled, turning his head so only Shinsuke could see the smile lifting his lips. Moniwa just groaned, rubbing his eyes.
“You’re taking him too right? Feel free to leave him in any nearby garbage cans like a stray cat.” Moniwa finally straightened, smiling tiredly at Kita. All three of them looked exhausted actually and Kita couldn’t help but wonder how long they’d been fighting with the agency to get the boys a place to stay for a while.
“Where are the boys?” Shinsuke asked, carefully reading down the medical files in front of him. There were a few things he would have to be careful about and he wondered if he had time to run to the store, probably not. He’d have to go tomorrow then, with the boys probably… 
“With Kenma.” Kuroo said, pointing to a room off down the hall. Shinsuke nodded, putting down the files and taking up a pen.
He took the chair Oomimi offered and started to sign through everything, quietly talking with him and Kaname over the process. For now it was an emergency foster situation while they looked for a more permanent solution, but after this incident they weren’t sure when they would be able to find a home for both boys.
Kita wasn’t sure about taking them in for longer than a month, he had a job he worked long hours in, a grandmother he was looking out for, and his own plans for life that hadn’t involved two children. He was only a licensed foster caregiver because he had taken after his grandmother and thought he wanted to help kids the same way she had, since then however Shinsuke had only had three kids in his house.
Two of them had been emergencies, needing a place to be safe in for a few days while their parents had been flown in after their aunt had gotten drunk and crashed her car and couldn’t leave the hospital. The other had stayed with Shinsuke for almost three months after a drug raid had put her parents in prison, she was adopted by her uncle soon after and was gone before the final month ended.
It had been a long time, Shinsuke could admit, and she had left his house a lot better than she had come in. Maybe that’s why they were asking him, he had a history with abused kids and he knew how to handle and help them. Plus his grandmother had been a foster mom for years and he had helped her with it, only retiring now since she couldn’t see.
Since then it had been nearly two years, Shinsuke honestly thought his license had expired after not renewing it when his business took off. His house was still mostly child proof however, and the rooms were set up, they needed new sheets but that could be fixed easily. He did own his business so he could always hire more help while caring for the two kids. It wasn’t exactly the best situation but he would feel a lot better if the kids stayed with him instead of being left overnight at a police station until they found someone willing to help them.
“I’m going to need to call someone to-” Shinsuke started only to blink when Oomimi smiled and shook his head. Suspicion ran through him and he narrowed his eyes.
“Check your phone.”
Shinsuke debated on running home before he pulled out his phone with a sigh. The only person in the world who could get Oomimi that ecstatic was-
One new message from Digging Fox
Akagi.
Hey bro! Ren hit me up an hour ago and told me you’d need my help, how's it look?
Picture Attached.
Shinsuke pulled up the picture, ignoring the urge to roll his eyes at Akagi posed between the twin mattresses in the extra bedroom. The sheets had been added and a plastic cover was tucked underneath them and a fluffy duvet was on each of them, and next to the pillow was Akagi’s ‘special’ touch. Two stuffed foxes stared blankly at the camera as Shinsuke turned up to his friend.
“Why is it always foxes?”
“He has major issues,” Oomimi said simply, “but he is reliable.”
“How did he get back from Cambodia so quickly?”
“Oh he got back yesterday, he was just crashing at my place while looking for another apartment.”
“Perhaps if he stopped leaving the country for months on end, he wouldn’t have to worry about not having an apartment to come back to.” Shinsuke sighed fondly. Akagi had always been a wild soul, atleast he would eventually make his way back home as long as Shinsuke kept a key for him.
“Yeah but you know him. If he’s not off being a photographer, he’s writing his books, and if he’s not writing his books he’s working as a translator, and if he’s not doing that, then he’s a virtual assistant. Then again… you are the only one he’s ever listened to, you could probably get him to settle down.” Shinsuke hummed at the idea, scribbling his signature on the last piece of paperwork.
“Not yet. He’s not in danger or running out of money, he just gets bored too easily and is too curious. If he doesn’t settle down by the time we’re thirty two then I’ll say something, but I don’t think a desk job is his future. If he is truly happy with odd jobs and he can support himself then there isn’t really anything for me to say is there? I’m proud of him for taking his life into his own hands.”
“Can you say that again, so I can record it? The great Kita Shinsuke, proud of someone. You’d make the old team cry.” Oomimi said, wiping away a fake tear as he held out his phone. Against his will, Shinsuke’s lips twitched up and he shook his head at him. The ‘Great’ Kita Shinsuke. Oomimi could be ridiculous sometimes, but Kita loved him regardless, there was a reason they were still best friends even six years out of highschool.
“Where are the boys? It’s late and I don’t want to make them wait any longer than they have to.” Shinsuke pushed out of his chair, handing the medical files to Oomimi. “You can carry these while I get the boys.”
“See Moniwa? Stone cold. Stone. Cold.” Oomimi whispered to Moniwa who just sighed softly.
Kuroo stood after scribbling something down on a notepad and moved down the hall, waving Shinsuke after him. He slowed down until they were side by side and leaned over to talk to him.
“They’re a little frightened right now but Kenma got them to calm down by playing games. Osamu was asleep last time I checked in but I don’t think Atsumu will sleep until they’re actually at home. I tried to get them to eat something but Atsumu was too wired and refused to leave his brother alone for more than a few seconds and Osamu wasn’t feeling well.” Kuroo explained, watching Shinsuke nod with the same neutral face. Kuroo had seen a lot of foster parents but never one so cold looking, if it hadn’t been Moniwa vying for him Kuroo might have refused to hand them over.
They rounded a corner and stepped into the first room on the left, pausing in the doorway.
The brothers were pressed up against an older man, who Shinsuke assumed was Kenma. He had a computer on his lap, turned slightly so the awake brother could tap away at the game with one hand. The other brother was asleep, arm stretched over Kenma’s lap so his hand could hold onto his brother’s on the other side.
The two looked up as Shinsuke stepped in, leaving Kuroo at the doorway. The awake brother pressed closer to Kenma, hand gripping his brother’s so tight he squirmed unhappily until he loosed his grip.
Shinsuke moved slowly across the empty room until he could crouch down by Kenma’s feet. The one watching him still had the black and blue bruises down his cheek, eyes averted for a moment before coming back and glaring at him, fear obvious.
“You must be Atsumu, I’m Kita Shinsuke.” Shinsuke said, smiling just a little when he nodded. Atsumu’s gray eyes were staring him down like a wild animal, but his hand was firmly clasped on his brother’s. He was a little shaky, probably running on nothing but anxiety and adrenaline which was still a surprise that his little body was awake at all, but he might have slept at the hospital.
“Do you know what’s going on?”
“... You’re going to take me somewhere right?” Atsumu said with a bit of jostling from Kenma. Kenma’s own gold eyes flashed as they watched Shinsuke, just as deciphering and calculating as Oikawa’s and nearly as protective.
“I’m taking you and your brother.” Shinsuke corrected, anger rolling in his chest at the shocked look on Atsumu’s face. It was one of the things he despised about the foster care system, how could you rip away two siblings from each other. Especially when at the end of the day they only had each other they could rely on.
“Me and…”
“You and Osamu, yes. You’re both going to stay with me for a little while, maybe a long while.”
“Till you get tired of us right?” Atsumu spat, a sudden viciousness in his eyes even as they drooped with exhaustion. Shinsuke didn’t flinch but moved to sit on his ankles instead of crouching.
“Until we can find a home that is willing to raise both of you as brothers, not take you away from each other. I know it’s frustrating moving from place to place, but with me, you will stay under my care until we have a permanent solution. Even if that takes a long time. You might get tired of me though, I have been told I am very boring.” Shinsuke said evenly, kids didn’t like being talked down too, even at the young age of six. He remembered when adoptees and other foster parents came to see his grandmother, they always looked down on him and he’d despised it. Being young just meant inexperienced not unintelligent.
“You’re not… you’re not going to give Osamu away?”
“No I’m not. I won’t give you away either.” Atsumu studied him, drawing his eyes over his clothes and hair and crossing his arms. Though Shinsuke noticed he didn’t release his brother for a second.
“You don’t look boring.” Atsumu said, as if he was catching Kita in a lie.
“I am wearing my pajamas. It is three am, it is what most people wear this early in the morning. Normally I am very well put together.”
“You definitely sound boring.”
“I did warn you.” Shinsuke said simply as Atsumu humphed and watched him again. Shinsuke just watched him back until the curse of being six and unstimulated came to haunt Atsumu and he wiggled.
“What?”
“What what?” Shinsuke hummed, Atsumu’s face twisting in confusion.
“What?”
“Are you ready to go home Atsumu?” Shinsuke asked softly, noting the fingers that tightened out of fear and stress. Perhaps home wasn’t the best word. “I have beds ready for you so your brother doesn't have to sleep on the floor, and I can make breakfast in a few hours.”
“I don’t really have a choice do I?” 
Shinsuke debated on lying before he moved to his feet and offered a hand to Atsumu. Atsumu definitely seemed the type to definitely ask for the other choices if given half a chance, so there wasn’t a point.
“Not really.”
“.... You don’t lie much do you?”
“No.”
“..... Weirdo.” Atsumu tried to whisper it to Kenma but Shinsuke could hear it easily. Despite that, Atsumu reached up and grabbed his hand, pulling himself up with all the strength in his tiny body. His hand stayed with his brother’s, pulling Osamu up at a weird angle. Osamu didn’t even flinch, happily asleep.
“Can I carry your brother so he can keep sleeping?” Shinsuke asked. Fear flitted through Atsumu’s gaze before he looked at his brother sleeping peacefully. With a sigh he dropped Kita’s hand and nodded.
“Don’t drop him.” Atsumu ordered as Kita gently lifted up the sleeping twin. Both of Osamu’s arms wrapped around his neck subconsciously and Kita moved him to his hip.
“Would you like to hold onto my hand or your brother?” The offer definitely took Atsumu by surprise because his jaw dropped and a resounding intelligent “uhhhhhhhhhh” came from his mouth.
“I… Don’t… know….” Atsumu seemed completely unbalanced by the offer so Kita simply took his hand again. It would be a simple matter to move Atsumu’s hand to his brother and Shinsuke didn’t want them to risk being injured on the ride home.
“Would you like to say goodbye to Kenma-san?”
“Kenma-kun! Bye!” Atsumu definitely jumped on that offer and Shinsuke could see Kenma’s lips twisting into a fond smile as he said his own goodbye and followed them at a much slower pace.
Once they were out of the room, Atsumu’s hand tightened on Shinsuke’s as if afraid he was going to be passed on to one of the other adults in the room.
“Oomimi, do you want to drop the files off tomorrow then? My hands are a little full.” 
“One could say that, yes.” Oomimi said dryly, amusement shining in his eyes at the blank look he received. “You have a way with kids.”
“Well. I did raise Akagi for the past nine years, so I suppose I’m experienced in dealing with small children.”
“Y’know, I didn’t have to come pick you up.” Akagi snorted, stepping out from behind Oomimi. “Kita-san~”
Shinsuke just shook his head slightly at him, gently squeezing Atsumu’s hand when he pressed against his leg. The child looked up at him but didn’t say anything, letting go of Kita’s hand to grab onto his brother’s pant leg instead.
Akagi’s grin shrunk slightly as he waved at Atsumu. He looked the same as he always did. Wild untamed hair piled on and wide eyes with a permanent smile on his lips. He was dressed in a purple knitted sweater that Shinsuke recognized as Oomimi’s, and tan slacks that were his own. Sometimes Shinsuke wondered if Akagi’s fox motif should have been a crow since he spent so much time scavenging for items in his friend’s drawers. Or perhaps it fit right in with that feral gleam in his eyes after all.
“I didn’t ask you to do that. But I do appreciate it, do you have booster seats for the boys?” Shinsuke said, nodding his head at him in greeting.
“Of course! I told you I would always have your back right? Captain~”
“.... Can we get the boys home? It’s late and they’re exhausted, Osamu isn’t even twitching at all this noise.” Shinsuke sighed, glancing worriedly down at the boy. He wasn’t too hot or cool, but it was suspicious that he hadn’t woken while being picked up.
“Osamu’s just like that. He doesn’t wake up for nothin’.” Atsumu said quietly, flinching when all the eyes landed on him. He squared his shoulders and glared back, hand clutching Osamu’s pants like it was a lifeline.
“You’re tired too, Atsumu. You need your rest.” Shinsuke said softly, gently lowering his hand on Atsumu’s shoulder. He flinched again, but didn’t glare at him or pull away, just allowed himself to be led down the hall.
“If you need anything else, please call me tomorrow, until then, good night Oomimi, Moniwa-san, Kuroo-san, Kenma-san.” Shinsuke said as he passed them, slowing down enough for Akagi to skip in front of him and lead him out.
“Whose this? What are you a captain in?” Atsumu mumbled, eyes on the leather jacket Akagi was pulling on over the sweater. A bedazzled red fox glinted under the hallways lights and Shinsuke wondered vaguely where he had gone wrong with Akagi. Atsumu, on the other hand, was fascinated by it despite his eyes trying to slide shut.
“That’s Akagi Michinari, we went to highschool together. I used to be captain of the volleyball team with him, so he still calls me that sometimes.”
“Oh…” Atsumu yawned then shook his head violently, trying to stay awake.
Shinsuke debated on his strength before gently tapping Atsumu’s shoulder. When he looked up Kita offered his arm.
“Can I carry you to the car?” He asked and Atsumu shook his head before yawning and face planting against Shinsuke’s hip.
“Don’t wanna fall asleep. Can’t lose Osamu.” Atsumu insisted.
“You’ll be right here with Osamu, let me carry you. You don’t want your brother to sleep alone do you?” When Atsumu agreed Shinsuke squatted and wrapped an arm around his waist and hoisted him onto his other hip. Atsumu wrapped one arm around his brother and the other around Shinsuke’s neck with his brother’s hand. It took a moment to get his arm under Atsumu’s rear so he could support more of his weight, but he started walking again when he could.
Akagi snapped a photo when he turned around and Shinsuke stared at him. Nine years of friendship worked against him however and Akagi just laughed quietly. Shinsuke’s own lips twitched up at the sound. It had been eight months since he’d last seen Akagi, it was nice to see him again and know he was safe.
“I knew you had to be keeping up at the gym, Mr. I don’t go to the gym.” Akagi whispered over at him and Shinsuke rolled his eyes at him.
“You asked me over two years ago recently Sugawara-san has been inviting me along with him and his husband, they both seemed surprised that I am familiar with weight training despite me telling them I used to be in volleyball. I suppose that is to be expected, I am slim after all.”
“.... You’re boring, do something exciting. Blow up a car, burn a man, kiss Suga-san.”
“I’m sure Sugawara-san wouldn’t mind, however I don’t see the purpose. Besides, I left my house thinking you got arrested and now I have two kids, I don’t think there is much more that can top this… ‘excitement,’” Shinsuke hummed, hushing Osamu when he started to stir. He didn’t seem to mind and the quiet confusion dropped off immediately into a soft snore, Atsumu seemed to be right. Osamu was just like that.
“..... You’re the worst, boss, the absolute worst.” Akagi sighed, leading them to the car. He opened the back door and took Osamu from Shinsuke, hand cradling the back of his head while he strapped him into the booster seat. Osamu didn’t mind, completely oblivious to the world as he snored quietly.
Atsumu woke a little when Shinsuke tried to put him on the other side, latching on with a tired whine.
“I know you’re very sleepy and I am very warm, but you’ll be much more comfortable in your seat next to your brother. You’ll be able to hold onto him and be safe, and you won’t have to worry about a crash because Akagi is a very good driver, atleast when I’m in the car with him.” Shinsuke said, gently removing his hands and buckling him into the seat. He lifted Atsumu’s hand and placed it over Osamu’s, a smile crawling onto his face when they both immediately held on.
“Wow.” Akagi breathed, staring at Shinsuke when he lifted his gaze to him curiously. His eyes were shining for some reason and Shinsuke couldn’t help but frown at him.
“What?”
“Nothing, nothing.”
“Whenever you say that, it’s not actually nothing you’re just thinking something weird and inappropriate and don’t want me to get onto you.”
“And yet, you manage just fine without even knowing what I was thinking.” Akagi groaned, closing the door carefully and sliding into the driver’s side. “Let's get you home.”
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misstinfoilhat · 5 years
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Whumptober #3 Delerium - Bungou Stray Dogs
(Read the first part: “Explosion” here) Nothing changed over the next couple of hours. Piles upon piles of rubbles were moved from one end of the room to the other, still not revealing an obvious way out. They were all alternating on keeping an eye on Dazai and digging, whenever fatigue struck them.   Kunikida went back and forth between shoveling dirt and checking on the bandage-wasting idiot, winching when he realized how grim the situation was turning.
Dazai had been nodding off and became more and more sluggish as time went by, having a harder time staying lucid and awake. They were worried that soon, he wouldn't be able to wake up again by himself. Still, he kept fighting whoever dared trying to touch his wound. At this moment, it was actually the best way they had of keeping him alert. The pale skin of the injured man had a feverish blush to it, glazed over by a thin layer of fever induced sweat and small tremors prickled all over his body. He was burning up with a fever while freezing cold from the effects of it. Kyouka strolled over to them with a soft smile. “Here you go,” Kyouka said pleasantly, and placed the thin red fabric of her kimono over Dazai's trembling form, settling with wearing her yellow tights and a white undershirt. She stroked a comforting, dirt-covered hand over the usual soft locks of Dazai's hair, that was now sticking to his face in tangled knots. Reluctantly, Dazai accepted the cover but seemed to be scowling at it every time Kyouka turned her attention away from him. When it was time for Atsushi to take over again, he finally let go of what was on his mind. “Atsushi,” he croaked weakly and grasped at the boy's arm with flimsy fingers. The light-haired kid turned towards him with a reassuring smile. “I'm here.” “Listen, I... I know how this is going to sound, but...” Dazai stated tiredly. Atsushi shifted uncomfortably. Dazai was staring half-lidded at the red cloth that had been draped over him. “You'll be okay. The shard is blocking the bleeding. As long as it stays in, you're not gonna bleed to death anytime soon...” “-I need a different blanket,” Dazai  interrupted determened. In his surprise, Atsushi shot his head towards the fatigued figure in front of him and blinked a couple of times, trying to decide if he had heard that right or not. So, Dazai decided he needed to elaborate. “I know it doesn't make any sense, but... this blanket is full of alien technology.”
Atsushi didn't know how to answer that. “I know,” Dazai sighed sleepily, “just, I'm gonna need a different blanket.” Luckily, Kunikida was close by and heard Dazai's feebled rambling. With a bland expression, he trailed over to them and picked up Kyouka's red kimono and turned it inside out before tucking it back over Dazai. “Better?” he asked vacantly and watched as Dazai's lips turned into a half-smile and he settled into the warmth of the clothing and relaxed. Atsushi's scrunched eyebrows told Kunikida that the boy had never experienced a delirious Dazai before, and felt the need to explain.
“This happens once in a while when he gets particularly feverish. I guess he's a bit of a closeted conspiracy theorist,” Kunikida shrugged. 
Atsushi, still severly confused, nodded hesitantly. “Oh.” “Yeah, just... take whatever you hear with a grain of salt, okay? It's an utter mess of ramblings and there really is no way of knowing if anything he says has any footing, in reality, understand?” Something about Kunikida's tone sounded off to Atsushi. As if, he didn't really believe what he was saying himself. As if it was some kind of warning. So, he nodded and figured he would understand what Kunikida meant soon enough.
And that, he did.
                                                          OoO
The next thirty minutes or so consisted of incoherent ramblings about anything from the “mind-control planes in the sky” to “lizard people? Tsk, we have a tiger-boy!” Atsushi couldn't help but feel a sliver of pride at being mentioned in Dazai's fever-dream. But soon, the sometimes humourous slurrs became more ominous. It started out as breathy whimpers and apologies. Some of them were directed at people in the agency, other's were people Atsushi knew worked for the Port Mafia, and there were a lot of names he had never heard before in his entire life. Especially one seemed to reoccur.
“Oda? ...Oda, it's so dark,” Dazai moaned painfully. His voice nearly cracked from frailty. “I want... I want...” It was clearly hard for him to get any sound out at this point. Atsushi worried, feeling Dazai's boiling hot forehead with the inside of his wrist, winching at the high temperature. Maybe it was time to get Kunikida...
“...to come with you, please. Let me go with you.” Atsushi felt the grip Dazai had on his hand tighten. Atsushi held tightly too, hoping it would reassure Dazai that he wasn't alone. Still, Atsushi wasn't sure if he should be happy or heartbroken when he saw the smile this brought to his elder's lips. “I knew you'd come back for me,” Dazai whispered. Just as he said that, Tanizaki turned up behind them. “Hey,” he greeted, making Atsushi jump in surprise. “Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to sneak up on you,” the redhead apologized, smiling uncomfortably. Atsushi breathed out, calming his nerves. “It's fine,” he started, but Dazai suddenly let go of his hand and reach for Tanizaki instead. The two boys exchanged looks, before turning their attention on Dazai. “Odasauk?” Dazai asked carefully, with a hint of impatience. Blurry, unseeing eyes peered up at Tanizaki, who stood dumbly and looked back at him.
“I'm not-” Tanizaki started, but Atsushi quickly shut him up. “Where is he gonna take you, Dazai-san?” he asked calmly, kneeling by his mentor's side. “And who is he?”
“Oda is the good guy,” Dazai answered easily. “He's gonna bring me into the light with him.” Yeah, it was definitely time to call for Kunikida. “Kunikida-san!” Atsushi yelled, probably a bit more desperately than strictly necessary, but it did the trick. Kunikida was sprinting over as soon as the calling registered in his hearing.
“What?” he sneered, immediately hovering over Dazai. “I don't think he knows where he is,” Atsushi explained. “And he doesn't recognize Tanizaki.” “Oda,” Dazai mumbled. Nobody knew if it was a coincidence or a correction.
Kunikida seemed calm, and Atsushi got the suspicion that it wasn't the first time he'd seen something like this. After a short moment, Kunikida turned to Tanizaki.  
“Junichiro-kun,” he started. He had an idea and waited for Tanizaki to look at him before he said anything else. “See if you can get him to show you the wound.” Tanizaki looked queasy. “I'm no good with blood,” he croaked pleadingly. “Tough luck,” Kunikida shrugged cooly. “You're not removing the metal or anything. I just want to see what it looks like. We have to make sure that it doesn't get infected. I would also like to tie something around it to quelch what's still bleeding and protect it from all this dust.” Tanizaki wined quietly but turned back to face Dazai. He was just laying there, looking up at him with something that looked like awe in those tired half-lidded eyes. “I'm Oda..?” Tanizaki asked stupidly, frowning at himself. “Yeah,” Dazai smiled feebly. He was so out of it, Kunikida was sure anyone from the office could have posed as this Oda. But as far as he'd seen, Dazai had never mistaken any of them for that man in the past. Maybe Tanizaki looked like him or at least had some prominent feature in common with the man Dazai would only ever talk about when completely incoherent.
“So, can I look at the wound? You got hurt, remember?” Dazai made a grimace. Yeah he knew, t'was kinda hard to forget when it was still stuck in your intestines. Reluctantly, he agreed to Tanizaki's suggestion. “Make sure to comfort him!” Kunikida mouthed, over-exaggerating every syllable for the teenager to understand. “Uh, g-good job,” Tanizaki muttered nerviously while he carefully tried to open the rest of the shirt. After fidgeting with the buttons, he figured it would have to do and started to lift his under-shirt. Dazai shifted agonizingly. The dried blood was tugging at the wound, and Dazai moaned hoarsely. “Oda-san used to be so careful,” he gasped miserably. “S-sorry, I guess I'm out of practice,” Tanizika tried. Dazai only sulked but didn't resist when he continued working, carefully releasing the shirt from the wound. Kunikida watched restlessly, wanting to take over and do it himself. “One more, okay? It's almost loose,” Tanizaki instructed, and pulled the t-shirt off the metallic piece spearing Dazai's side, only to uncover layers upon layers of neatly placed, blood-soaked bandages. He looked wearily to Dazai, who was panting heavily after the swift tug that probably had torn off some scab from the gash. “I need to remove some of these, is that okay?” he asked tryingly, but Dazai wouldn't answer. So instead, he looked questioningly to Kunikida and Atsushi. Both men motioned that they didn't know, so he decided to take a chance and take them off.
When removing the bandages, two things became very clear. First of all, there was more bandage than he first had anticipated. It seemed never-ending, covering at least 85% of his upper body. The second thing  was that the bandages were not decorative, as he had heard many people hypothesize.
This new injury would only be another gash in a jungle of various older and newer scars, in every shape and form, that anyone could imagine. “Tanizaki, what's going on?” he heard Atsushi ask from behind. Kunikida and Atsushi lingered in the back, trying to give Dazai the space he needed, and to not invade the privacy he so clearly demanded at a time like this.
Tanizaki didn't answer. He didn't know what to say, what to feel, what to do. All he really knew was that somebody had hurt Dazai, and he... ...needed to get up and away so he wouldn't throw up all over him.
Hesitantly, he opened his mouth to say something but stopped himself when, to his surprise, all he could get out was a small sob. He hid his mouth under his hands, hopfully stifling the sound as he got up on shaky knees, unsteadily walking a couple of feet away and let his stomach contents spill out onto the concrete floor. Atsushi was right behind him, offering a supportive hand on his shoulder while he hurled, and, at least, kinda shieling him from the overbearing grief his younger sister had about his sickness. The sight of Dazai's mangled torso would haunt him for a long, long time. He already knew that and all the bile in the world couldn't flush that memory away. “Are you okay?” Atsushi asked in conserne, patting his back steadily and looking at him with worried eyes. Tanizaki shook his head vigorously. “That's not right,” he uttered hoarsely. In denial. He shook his head insistingly. “Did you know?” he inquired, grabbing onto Atsushi's shirt. “Know what?” the silver-haired boy asked bewildered. Maybe he knew? How was he supposed to know if he didn't elaborate??
“About the scars!” Tanizaki exclaimed, ignoring everyone else around. Because fuck it. Dazai wasn't all right. 
They had all though that Dazai's supposed pain, the suicide attempts, the bad habits, heavy bandaging, and unwillingness to take care of himself was just a show, but no, no no no. It was not. It was a distraction. Fuck, he felt so guilty.
And Atsushi didn't look like he understood a thing. Good.
Tanizaki turned around and saw Kunikida leaning carefully over the unmoving body of Osamu Dazai.
He had his back turned. Tanizaki couldn't see his face. He could see his arms though. The way he moved gingerly, almost affectionately. Atsushi didn't know. But Kunikida did.
He probably knew more than any of them. The two teenagers watched their team leader work effectively on Dazai. They had been able to talk for a little bit, exchanging information and different things they had heared- from Dazai that day, rumours or whenever people had some sort of slip about him. They knew they were still far off, but felt like they had puzzled some pieces together.
About twenty minutes later, their injured coworker was all covered back up, and Tanizaki and Atsushi finally dared to move closer and ask how he was doing.
“He'll be fine,” Kunikida huffed, and tried wiping off some dried blood off his hands. “The shard didn't hit anything vital. It probably did cause some damage to his intestines though, so surgery will probably be necessary. Right now, there really isn't much we can do about that, except getting the hell out of here.”
“B-but, what about...” Atsushi wasn't sure just how to ask. He hoped Kunikida would just read his mind so he didn't have to say it out loud.
“What about what?” Something about the way Kunikida asked, almost seemed challenging. As if, he dared him to say anything about it, and Atsushi realized that maybe, he shouldn’t say anything at all. Because he remembered, that Kunikida knew.
Knew about the scars. Probably knew a whole lot about what had happened already. Knew who this Oda was. Finally, he recalled that something Kunikida had told him, now several hours ago and finally understood what he meant. The truth was, most of them had probably seen many (if not all the) different sides of Dazai. Then, Kunikida, or someone else, would be there to assure them that Dazai was just talking nonsense. They actually wanted them all to just ignore it- didn’t they? And now, everybody went around, knowing bits and pieces about their coworker and ignoring it entirely. For Dazai. Because Dazai couldn't handle it when he was all there.
It took another hour for them to get out of there. Yosano was already waiting outside with a make-shift ambulance, having noticed that the mission was taking too much time and that something probably had gone awry.
Dazai was quickly ushered onto a gurney and rushed to a civilian hospital. The bloodloss was too big, and the surgery was too extensive for Yosano to handle in the infirmary all by herself.
The days slowly switched back to normal. Within a week, Dazai was out of the hospital, walking slowly and seemingly in a lot of pain, but was back at the office and pretending like nothing ever happened. He was currently residing on a couch in the back of the office, napping lazily while listening to music. At this point, Atsushi understood the gist of things. They were all walking around and pretending that nothing happened- like they hadn't seen the horrendous scars on his body, or heard the pain in his voice when he asked for this Oda- ignore the love and hope in his eyes when he thought Tanizaki was this person and had come there to take him away.
And now, everything was back, just the way it was. Atsushi was sure Tanizaki hadn't known anything before the day at the construction site. He was fairly new to the agency too. He just wondered how many times Kunikida had done that same schpiel now.
What would happen if Dazai realized how much they knew? … Nothing good.
Atsushi decided that maybe, just maybe, the delirium hadn't exactly been the hallucinations back then. Maybe the Delerium was whatever was going on right now. The End
First of all:
The alien technology in the blanket-thing is actually based pretty accurately on true events. My boyfriend and some of his friends went on a trip around Europe this summer and one of his buddies got severe food poisoning. He assured them that he knew how stupid it sounded and that it didn't make any sense even too him, but he really just needed a different blanket because of the alien technology in the one that he already had.
Secondly: I might revisit this. I’m not all the way satisfied with it, and that’s the issue with trying to follow a day-to-day event.  Also, I’ve been sick as a dog. I think I’m just gonna say this; I can’t promise daily updates (because I have some pride in my work, and I want to tell a good story). But I can promise that I’ll try my best. And I’m gonna post something about every single prompt, and try my best to not fall too far behind. Thank you all of reading!
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wild3flow3r · 7 years
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0800: I Think Your Bum Looks Nice In Those Tight Jeans
It’s nearing noon when Harper arrives for her shift at the agency. It has been a week since her night with Harry in her bedroom. He has tried time and time again to talk to her, but she always shuts him down and runs away before he can get a word in. She can tell that he is getting aggravated with her, but she can care less about how he feels. She might not admit it, but he really hurt her that morning.
“What kind of flowers does Clover like?” Niall asks as he slams into the desk chair next to hers.
“She doesn’t like flowers,” Harper murmurs in response as she looks through her Adam Wilde case file. They hadn’t found anything connected to him at their search party a week ago, and as promised she let Harry take the fall for it. He had to do double shifts for five days straight.
“Well, what does she like?”
“I don’t know,” she replies mindlessly. She was too focused on the file to really pay attention to Niall’s questions.
“Harper, please! Our double date is tonight and I’m going out of my mind. I really don’t want to screw this up,” he pleads and covers the words she’s reading with his hand.
Harper finally looks at him. “She likes white lilies. You can get some red and yellow ones as well, but not purple ones. She doesn’t like the color purple.”
“Thank you.” Niall sends her a relieved smile. “How are you feeling about tonight?”
“For what?”
“Your date with Zachary, of course! From the gossip I heard, you two seemed to be all over each other during your search party.”
Harper scoffs and rolls her eyes. “I talked to him for like a minute and a half. We only shook hands and then I walked away.”
Niall looks up in the air for a few moments as if he’s thinking about something. “That version doesn’t sound as interesting. I think when I go to gossip with people, I’ll tell them my version.”
Harper laughs softly. “You do whatever you want. Just don’t make me sound bad.”
“Do you want to know anything about him?”
“Who?”
“Zachary! Your date!”
“I’m sure he’ll tell me things tonight.”
“Do you think you’ll get laid tonight?”
“I don’t know. Maybe if we hit it off-’
“Will you two stop talking like old women and get back to work?” Harry growls from his seat a couple of feet away.
“Hey! I’m the leader for the week and I can do whatever I want,” Niall boasts and leans back in his chair. “Now, get back to work and leave us alone.”
“Well, fucking Liam shouldn’t have made the challenge so easy,” Harry grumbles and his fingers slam against the keyboard of his computer.
“Then why were you the first one out then?” Harper mocks and glances at him for a moment. She looks away as soon as she meets his heavy glare.
“Fuck off,” he snarls.
It had been obvious to everyone that things between Harry and Harper were more tense lately than usual. No one had the slightest idea why, but everyone was too afraid to ask. Poking either of them the wrong way could lead to the detonation of the world.
Harper rolls her eyes. “Do you think  I could go home early today, Niall? I’d like to go home and change before tonight.”
“Yeah, of course, you can leave an hour early,” Niall nods in agreement.
“Thank you,” Harper grins before slamming her case file shut and locking it away in her desk drawer. She picked up this habit after the morning of the search party. She wouldn’t be foolish to leave it out in the open where Harry could get to it. “I’ll be down in the shooting range if you need me,” Harper nods in departure to Niall, not even sparing Harry a glance before leaving the room.
***
Harper prides herself on a lot of things, but shooting a gun is not one of them. She was good enough to earn her way to Senior Agent status, but only by a hair. Ever since that night when Harry got shot she couldn’t stop thinking about what could have happened if her plan had failed. Her bullet probably would have missed Mark Morales and he would have ended up killing both her and Harry. After that night she had asked around her team on who would be the best to train her if she were ever to get in a situation like that again. Much to her dismay, they all said the best person to train with is Harry and she wasn’t doing that. She’s tried to get Liam to help her out, but he’s been adamant on Harry training her, claiming that Harry had much more free time than him.
Ever since then she has tried to make it to the shooting range down in MI6’s basement as often as she can. She hasn’t really gotten any better, but she hopes that with practice she’ll eventually get to where she wants to be. She’s gotten this far on her own, so she’s sure that she doesn’t need Harry for this.
So after her last round of bullets was fired from her gun to the target, she can’t help but feel a soft bubble of hope at the bottom of her stomach. Maybe, just maybe, she actually got some good shots in this time. The bubble popped after the paper came rolling into view and not one bullet had hit the drawn-on man’s body.
“You’ve got such a terrible shot.” Harper jumps from the intruding voice after she takes her headset off. She snaps her head over her shoulder to see Harry.
“I shouldn’t have said where I was going. I should have known you would followed me,” Harper growls before setting the gun down on the table in front of her.
Harry ignores her. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask me to train you,” he smirks. “Everyone has been telling me that you’ve been asking around.”
“I’d never ask you even if it were a life or death choice.”
“It’s okay to ask for help sometimes, Harper,” Harry sighs as he walks towards her. Harper tenses, but sighs in relief when he grabs the gun instead.
“I know that,” Harper snaps, “but I don’t need it.”
Harry rolls his eyes. “Obviously not.” He loads the gun with a new round of bullets and presses the button that sends the target all the way back to the other side of the room.
“What are you doing?”
He ignores her and grabs a headset for himself.
“Harry,” Harper demands with a stomp of her foot.
Harry puts his headset over his ears. He snaps Harper’s over her ears despite her hands hitting his away.
She tries to push him away from her, but he forces her to turn around so that her back is against his chest. She begins to push the heel of her foot against the toes of his, but he gets her to stop with a light pinch to her hip. She's ready to punch him in the face again like she did last week, but he's already gotten the gun in her hands and his hands over hers.
"Relax. Your shoulders are too tense," she can barely hear him say over the headset, but it's also almost like he's whispering right into her ear.
"I can't relax with you so goddamn close," Harper snarls. She can imagine Harry rolling his eyes behind her.
"You were tense before too," Harry points out. His breath hits the back of her neck. Harper shakes her shoulders a bit in hopes to relieve some of the tension. Harry gets her to stand up straighter and pushes her feet further apart. She feels her hands begin to shake, but he steadies them with his own firm grip.
He shoots off the first two bullets with her before retracting his arms, but she barely even acknowledges the fact that he's not helping her anymore. She can tell that the next four shots were not as good as the first two, but they were a hell of a lot better than when she was practicing by herself.
When the paper reaches them once more there are two clear holes through the head, three in various parts of the chest, and one in the crotch. Harper barely stifles her giggles when Harry flinches at the sight of the last bullet wound.
“Remind me not to get in a gunfight with you after we finish your training,” Harry mutters as he rips the paper off its hanging.
Harper frowns immediately. “My training?”
Harry doesn’t even bother to look at her, “You need to be properly trained for field missions, Harper, and Liam is always too busy doing one thing or another and Louis isn’t even allowed to hold a gun anymore without explicit permission from Claudette. Which is never, by the way. Nobody else on the team has ever been on the field side of the mission before, so your only choice to be cleared to work a real field mission is if you train with me.”
“But I’m sure-”
“Tomorrow at noon, I want you back down here for your first proper lesson.” His voice deepens to how it was that night.
“I don’t think-”
“And then we’ll figure out a schedule for everything else that you have to learn. If everything goes right, then you should be able to work missions by this time next month.”
Harper really wants to argue with him. She really, really wants to yell at him until her face is blue that she doesn’t need his help. That he’s an arsehole and he should mind his own goddamn business, but at the end of it all she knows that she needs his help. So instead of saying anything at all, Harper bites her lip and nods at his words.
Harry grabs the gun from her hands. “Follow me.”
She walks back with him to the armory. She has no idea why she doesn’t just run in the other direction, but her feet fall in line with his. The door shuts behind them after they enter, and Harry puts the gun back on the rack where Harper had taken it from earlier. Harry steps in front of the door and faces her.
“We need to talk about the other night,” Harry murmurs while looking down to her. His eyes soften in a way she hasn’t seen before.
Harper frowns. “I told you that I didn’t want to talk about it.”
“Harper-”
“I’ve already forgotten about it, Harry!”
“It had to have meant something-”
“It didn’t mean anything to me.”
“I can tell when you’re lying, and I know that you’re lying to me right now. Just like you lied when you said you didn’t find anything at the search party last week.”
“What did you just say?”
“You were lying when you told Claudette that you didn’t find anything last week,” he repeats.
“You think I was lying?”
“I know-”
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why the hell would I lie about something like that?”
“I don’t know-”
“Get out of my way, Harry,” Harper snarls through clenched teeth.
“Just listen to me!”
“Listen to you? After you just accused me of lying? Something like that could cost me my job!”
“I didn’t mean it like that!”
“Then how did you mean it, Harry? Are you trying to get me kicked off the team again because I hurt your feelings for ignoring you?”
“No! I just want to know the truth!”
“And I told you the truth! I told everyone the truth! And you’re so fucking far up your own arse if you can’t see that,” Harper tries to push him out of her way.
“Harper-” Harry grabs onto her wrists.
“Get out of my way, Harry.”
“Just-”
“I said, get out of my way!” Tears of frustration leak out of Harper's eyes. Harry steps aside at the sight of them so that she can pass.
She leaves him alone in the armory without another word.
***
Zachary was late. It wasn’t leaving a very good impression on Harper on his behalf, but she understands the intensity of their job and London traffic so she keeps her mouth shut. Clover sends her a sympathetic stare, but Harper shakes her head in response. She didn’t want to ruin Clover and Niall's night. For the last twenty minutes they had been hitting it off pretty well and she wasn’t going to bring them down with her.
“He’s usually very punctual. I’m sure he’ll be here any moment.” Clover reaches over the table and squeezes Harper’s arm.
“I’m sure he will,” Harper nods along, but she isn’t holding as much hope as Clover is. “Why don’t you two go inside and find us some seats. There’s no point in all of us waiting out here for him.”
“Are you sure-” Clover starts.
Harper turns towards Niall. “Take her inside and don’t let her out of your sight.”
Niall laughs nervously before opening the door for his date. Clover sends Harper one last anxious look before disappearing into the building with a bouquet of white lilies in her hands. Niall had been doing good so far, and Harper could already imagine their wedding. All she’s saying is that she better be the maid of honor because everything they had together started with her.
Harper stood out there like a fool for another ten minutes. She texted the number he had given her after the search party last week. More often than not, Zachary replies pretty quickly to Harper’s texts. Tonight fell under the ‘not’ section.
She promised herself that if another five minutes went by and he still hadn’t showed then she would text some apology to Clover and go home. But the five minutes go by and she’s still alone. And another five minutes go by and she’s really ready to leave. She’s about to when she runs into someone familiar.
“Oh my god, are you Harper?” A feminine voice rings out next to Harper. Her head snaps up from her phone to be met with familiar green eyes, but they were not on the person she usually sees them with.
“I um… yes,” Harper nods in agreement. “It’s Leah right?”
A huge grin breaks onto Leah’s face. “It is! It’s so nice to meet you properly. Last time I was just… well you know,” Leah laughs.
Harper smiles back. “Yeah, trust me, I know.”
“So what are you doing here?”
“I… well… I don’t know, actually.” Harper’s cheeks tinge pink, but if Leah notices then she doesn’t mention it. “How about you?”
“My brother invited me to have dinner with him tonight. He’s probably going to give me another long lecture about how I’m ruining my liver, but little does he know that I’m probably going to bail halfway through to go to a club.”
“Why even bother to suffer through half of a lecture? You might as well skip the whole thing, especially when you know he’s going to act like a pompous arse who pretends to know everything there is about anything.”
“I assume he’s given you lectures before,” Leah laughs.
Harper rolls her eyes playfully. “Loads of them. He doesn’t know how to keep his opinion to himself.”
“He’s always been like this, always putting in his own two cents. But you’re right, I should leave now before he shows up. He only wanted to come to this place because he’s spying on some date, our dinner is just an afterthought.” Leah raises her eyebrows.
“He came to spy on someone’s date?”
“Yeah. Originally he told me it was because some of his coworkers were meeting up here after their shift, but then he accidentally let it slip that someone he knows was going on a date here. It wasn’t hard to put together the pieces after that. Anyway, I should get going now. I don’t want him to see me.” Leah turns to leave.
“Would you mind if I joined you? I really need something to drink, and the strongest thing they’ve got in there is some one hundred year old, really expensive wine.”
Leahs sticks her arm out in greeting. “Of course! A girls’ night is so much better than a singles’ night.”
Harper wraps her arm around Leah’s. “Tell me about it,” she murmurs.
***
“Talk to me, baby. I'm going after this sweet-sweet craving, whoa-oh. Let's lose our minds and go fucking crazy. Ya-ya-ya-ya-ya keep on hoping we'll eat cake by the ocean. Walk for me, baby I'll be diddy and you'll be naomi, whoa-oh. Let's lose our minds and go fucking crazy. Ya-ya-ya-ya-ya keep on hoping we'll eat cake by the ocean,” Harper and Leah sing simultaneously. It’s been a couple of hours since they came to this club, and both of them were wasted.
Dancing on top of a bar was not something Harper did ever, but Leah had somehow convinced her that it would be a good idea. Sober Harper might have been embarrassed by the male attention she was receiving up there, but drunk Harper was absolutely relishing in the feeling.
Leah spins Harper underneath her arm, an act that almost causes Harper to trip off the side and crack her head open, but strong arms wrap around her waist before her head can hit the floor. With her feet flat on the ground now Harper resumes back to dancing without faltering. She doesn’t even turn around to check who it was that caught her, instead just shaking her hips against her savior as a thank you.
“What the fuck are you two doing?” Someone growls in Harper’s ear. She frowns in response.
“Why do you always show up when I really don’t want to see you?” Harper groans as she jumps away from Harry.
Harry glares down at her. His fists are clenched at his side, but his whole body tenses up after he sees his sister dance in front of some man that was much older than her.
“You stay right there,” he orders Harper, pointing his finger at her as if chastising a child. Harper rolls her eyes while Harry makes his way to the other side of the bar to get his sister down.
Harper walks away before she can see if Harry could get Leah down without a fight. There was no way in hell she was going to listen to one of Harry’s orders ever again. She walks out to the middle of the dance floor, and it only takes her seconds to find a male that’s willing to dance with her. She’s swinging her hips against his like she had been doing to Harry just minutes ago.
“You two are like fucking toddlers, I swear,” Harry yells as he grabs onto Harper’s arm and pulls her away from her dance partner. The man Harper was dancing with looks like he’s about to say something, but after catching Harry’s murderous stare, he thinks better of it and walks away.
“Hey! I’m dancing!” Harper cries as Harry drags her and Leah behind him.
“Don’t start with me, Harper!”
“God, Harry, you’re so boring!” Leah whines.
“Seriously! Leave us alone, we were having fun before you got here,” Harper agrees.
Harry shakes his head. “I’m taking the two of you home.”
“That’s so lame!” Leah gasps.
Harry gets them through the front doors of the club where they can finally talk properly.
“Well, if me saving your life from overdrinking is lame, then I’m so terribly sorry,” Harry mutters sarcastically.
“I don’t want you to drive me home. I’ll just take the tube or something,” Harper tries, and fails miserably, at pulling her wrist out of Harry’s grasp.
“Oh, I’ll go with you!” Leah squeals out with a giggle.
“No! You two will get in my car,” Harry stated firmly. “Now shut up, we’re almost there.”
Both Leah and Harper groan together.
Harry opens the passenger side door for one of them to slide into the car, neither of them make the move to get in.
“I don’t want to sit next to you. I’d rather take the back seat, thanks,” Harper tells him with a shake of her head.
Leah nods in agreement. “There’s more room back there.”
Harry sighs and shuts the door. He then opens the door to the back and both women get in the car without another complaint. After making sure both of them were settled and properly buckled, Harry makes his way to the driver seat.
“I’ve spent the last two hours looking for you, you know,” Harry points out while watching both Harper and Leah through the rearview mirror.
“You didn’t have to,” Leah murmurs and rests her head against Harper’s shoulder.
“The two of you were missing! You never bothered to text me that you wanted to cancel our plans, and then Clover told me that Harper was missing and hadn’t been returning any of her texts.”
“Shit! I knew I forgot to do something,” Harper curses. She was already making plans on how she should apologize to Clover about this.
“And I’ve been texting the two of you all night! Why couldn’t one of you just look at your goddamn phone! You might as well not even have one.”
Leah’s eyes begin to shut throughout Harry’s lecture. Harper leans her head on top Leah’s and her eyes also close. Neither of them were paying attention to what Harry was saying while they were awake, so both figured that it would be okay to fall asleep. It takes Harry another two minutes of ranting before he finally realizes that both of them are asleep.
He watches them through the rearview mirror while he’s stopped at a red light. With a loud sigh he murmurs, “the two of you will be the death of me.”
***
“Thanks for doing this, Thea. Again, I’m so sorry for waking you up.”
It takes Harper a few moments, but her eyes finally open after struggling to lift them up. She watches as Harry helps a half-asleep Leah out of the car.
“It’s no problem. I usually do this anyway,” a familiar feminine voice rings out before Harry shuts the door. The car encases her in silence.
Harper watches as Harry and a girl she vaguely remembers as Thea talk outside of the car. She looks hopeful for a few moments, but it’s crushed after Harry gestures to the back seat and Thea’s eyes connect with Harper’s. Harry sends her one last wave before getting back in the car.
“Looks like someone’s awake and ready to talk.”
Harper groans quietly. “Please Harry, not right now.”
“I just-”
“Harry! In the morning we’ll talk, alright? We’ll talk about tonight, we’ll talk about earlier today, hell we’ll talk about last week if it means you’ll just shut up for five minutes!”
Harry sighs. “Clover told me what happened with Zachary.”
“And Leah told me that you came to spy on my date.” Harper rests her head against the cool glass of the window. She suddenly wasn’t feeling all that well.
Harry rolls his eyes. “Of course she did. The little bugger could never keep a secret.”
“You really confuse me sometimes.”
Harry laughs quietly. “How?”
“Well, some days I think you like me, and then others you want to kill me. I never know when I’m supposed to be fighting you and when I’m supposed to let you tie me up again.”
Harry’s lips turn up into a smirk. “So you’ve thought about that night too?”
“Of course! How could I not? I mean fuck, I’ve been thinking more about your bum now that I’ve seen it bare.”
Harry raises an eyebrow and watches her through the mirror with amusement. “You’ve been thinking about it more?”
“Well, I’ve always thought that it looked nice in your tight jeans, but now everytime I see it I can’t stop thinking about that night!”
“So you look at it often then?”
Harper’s cheeks flush as she finally realizes what she’s admitted. “Oh, fuck off.”
Harry lets out a loud bark of a laugh, and Harper kicks the back of his chair in response.
“Alright, alright,” Harry says after his laughter finally dies down. “We’ll talk about this when you’re sober and less… flushed.” That earns him another kick to the seat.
Harper groans. “Just get me home in one piece. I’m going back to sleep to save myself from this misery.”
Harry smiles lightly. “Of course Harper, I’ll always get you home safe and sound.”
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arisefairsun · 7 years
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My English teacher left me very confused when learning about Romeo and Juliet. He said that it wasn't a love story because they didn't love each other; Juliet just basically used Romeo, but I don't know what to think. Can you please explain to me if it's a love story, tragedy, or both?
Did your teacher say that Juliet used Romeo? How rude.
The first thing we have to remember is that the feud is the exponent of an unhealthy ideology that promotes violence, hatred, prejudice, and brutal misogyny. Don’t ever forget the world they lived in. Romeo and Juliet are not normal teenagers living in a normal world and making stupid decisions. They are children whose mental health ends up destroyed by the ideals of their families. I just won’t stand anyone who refers to them as ‘dumb’ because it’s a very insulting way of dismissing the destructiveness of social oppression and abuse. It’s so evident that their families caused their deaths that at the end of the play nobody has the guts to blame them for their own deaths and dismiss their emotions as shallow or dishonest. What they have done is too monstrous for them to deny. When both patriarchs find the young lovers dead together in the crypt they see the wrong in their actions and take responsibility for it. They know they killed their children. It was not teenage folly that ruined Romeo and Juliet. It was a sick society that glorified violence and prejudice.
Perhaps your male teacher is annoyed by the fact that Juliet hardly fits in the role of a sixteenth-century obedient wife who goes along with whatever her husband has to say. On the contrary, Juliet has a voice of her own. It is evident from the first conversation between the lovers that she has a very particular, specific way of thinking, and which doesn’t necessarily match that of Romeo. For instance, she gently mocks his stereotyped courtship when she says “you kiss by the book.” I would say she is a far better poet than him—he actually learns from her. Think about the way she corrects him when he tries to swear his love by the moon. She literally rationalizes everything. Romeo needs to get on her level. Later on, he will ask her to “sweeten with thy breath / This neighbour air, and let rich music’s tongue / Unfold the imagined happiness that both / Receive in either by this dear encounter,” to which Juliet answers that “conceit, more rich in matter than in words, / Brags of his substance, not of ornament”. You see, she doesn’t always agree with him, and she presents her own points of view resolutely. She is the one to give lessons.
Moreover, she is capable of turning against Romeo. Look at her reaction to Tybalt’s death:
O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face!Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?Beautiful tyrant! Fiend angelical!Dove-feather’d raven! Wolvish-ravening lamb!Despised substance of divinest show!Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st,A damned saint, an honourable villain!O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell,When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiendIn moral paradise of such sweet flesh?Was ever book containing such vile matterSo fairly bound? O that deceit should dwellIn such a gorgeous palace!
She only truly decides to stand up for him when she decides that it was most likely Tybalt who started the fight. So she has a very clear perception of judgment that she uses all the time, even when it doesn’t benefit Romeo. He recognizes her independence and doesn’t expect her to behave in a way she doesn’t agree with just because it would do him good. When he is banished, he anxiously asks about her well-being, aware that he may have lost her sympathy for good:
Spakest thou of Juliet? How is it with her?Doth she not think me an old murderer,Now I have stain’d the childhood of our joyWith blood removed but little from her own?Where is she? And how doth she? And what saysMy conceal’d lady to our cancell’d love?
Juliet is a really complex character who doesn’t need to adopt anyone’s posture because she has thoughts and ideas of her own. She has personality. Look at her words. Her courage is limitless:
O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris,From off the battlements of yonder tower;Or walk in thievish ways; or bid me lurkWhere serpents are; chain me with roaring bears;Or shut me nightly in a charnel-house,O'er-cover’d quite with dead men’s rattling bones,With reeky shanks and yellow chapless skulls;Or bid me go into a new-made graveAnd hide me with a dead man in his shroud.
She doesn’t mind breaking any rules that may prevent her from getting what she wants. And she breaks them simply because she wants to. For instance, living in a world where names, honor, and dynasty do indeed determine people’s lives, she claims that what makes Romeo valuable has nothing to do with his surname. “What’s Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, / Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part / Belonging to a man.” Tell her that her Romeo is not free from social constructs. She’ll fight you. And where does she get all these ideas from? She gets them from herself.There’s this delicious youth about her, this restless euphoria, this passionate determination, this unstoppable fierceness, this need to experience life freely. Juliet is too alive to stay quietly in the shadows. She has fallen in love with liberty so deeply that once her only chance to achieve freedom dies, she inevitably, tragically, dies as well. In my opinion, she is the most intelligent character in the play. She has some of the deepest and most revolutionary speeches. She makes what is to me the hardest and scariest decision when she drinks the friar’s potion. She is the sun. She is life itself. Romeo knows and admires this. In his dreams, Juliet brings him back to life because “she breathed such life with kisses in my lips.” Her love is stronger than all the hate living in Verona: “Look thou but sweet, / And I am proof against their enmity.” To him, she is a powerful light forcing her way through the window, overcoming the restrictions of the physical space, and thus freely expanding herself through the sky without restraint: “What light through yonder window breaks? / It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.”
However, the patriarchal structure of her society inevitably thwarts her liveliness. She must restrain herself. Look at the way she refers to her house: “Bondage is hoarse and may not speak aloud.” She feels like a prisoner who must stay silent. But if she were free, things would be quite different: “Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies / And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine / With repetition of “my Romeo!” Now compare that with her attitude in the first act, before she met Romeo. She had assured her mother that she would “look to like, if looking liking move. / But no more deep will I endart mine eye / Than your constent gives strength to make it fly.” She is trapped in the role of the submissive daughter who allows her parents to command her life. She didn’t dare contradict her mother the way she does with Romeo later on. So while she must show obedience to her parents, she can let out her real self in Romeo’s company. He is interested in listening to her and taking into account whatever she has to say. She finds a friend in him, as she once says, and she begins to free herself from the constraints of her society. Romeo is her chance to achieve a more exciting life. But even as she imagines him as a little bird that she can cherish, she stresses her lack of freedom as opposed to his ability to fly. She is “loving-jealous of his liberty.” In the “balcony” scene (though there really isn’t any balcony), she is locked in her window. But look at the stage direction from 2.6, which is when they get married:
Enter Juliet somewhat fast and embraces Romeo.
She comes in running and immediately hugs Romeo because she is finally free to move. So after gaining some agency through their love, she is not ready to let the friar “dispose” of her “among a sisterhood of holy nuns” in the last scene. I’m inclined to read the play as the lovers’ attempt to assert themselves in a society that doesn’t care about them. They try to build new, private identities that do not match their public roles. I will not say they used each other because of the negative connotations of the word, but I will definitely say that they took advantage of their relationship to explore their real selves and figure out what they really wanted to be, and not what their relatives wanted.
I can’t see how anyone could claim that Juliet used him when she is so tenderly in love. In the balcony scene she feels like she will have to wait for “twenty years” to receive Romeo’s news when she’s actually going to send the Nurse for him at nine o’clock in the morning. When she realizes the night is nearly over, she lets him go, but “no further than a wanton’s bird.” She literally fears she would kill him “with much cherishing” because she has too much love to give. She actually feels like her affection is endless: “My bounty is as boundless as the sea, / My love as deep; the more I give to thee / The more I have, for both are infinite.” It makes her feel so rich she “cannot sum up sum of half” her wealth. She complains that “love’s heralds should be thoughts / Which ten times faster glide than the sun’s beams.” She wishes her thoughts and Romeo’s could communicate instantly because the Nurse fails at being “as swift in motion as a ball.” (Notice how she is talking about thoughts here. There’s a lot more than physical desire going on between Romeo and Juliet.) She is so happy to be with him that she pretends it was the nightingale singing. And then there’s the kind of metaphors she creates for him. They are tender and loving. The Nurse says she has been making puns out of the similarities between Romeo’s name and ‘rosemary’. Can you get any more ridiculously sentimental than that? He is her “sweet”, the “god of my idolatry”. She thinks that “every tongue that speaks / But Romeo’s name speaks heavenly eloquence” because he is literally perfect: “So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called / Retain that dear perfection which he owes / Without that title.”
I would also like to stress that she is very protective of him. Romeo is a scared child who needs as much help as her. She does her best to free him from the constraints of their world. Picking up again the pilgrim/saint motif from their first conversation, Romeo asks Juliet to “call me but love and I’ll be new baptized.” From that moment on there will be two Romeos: Montague’s heir and her Romeo. Look at this dialogue between the Nurse and Juliet:
Nurse: Will you speak well of him that killed your cousin?Juliet: Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?
She knows Romeo’s real, private identity depends on her. If she leaves his side, her Romeo will fade away and the feud will take over his existence. What makes her drink the friar’s potion, after having expressed all her fears, is the thought of Tybalt’s ghost haunting Romeo. She is afraid that Tybalt, who is one of the major exponents of toxic masculinity, violence, and rage, will destroy Romeo if she doesn’t prevent it.
O, look! Methinks I see my cousin’s ghostSeeking out Romeo, that did spit his bodyUpon a rapier’s point. Stay, Tybalt, stay!Romeo, I come! This do I drink to thee.
Her fierce protectiveness is present all along. “I would not for the world they saw thee here,” she’d do anything to prevent her family from hurting him. She stands up for him when the Nurse criticizes him: “He was not born to shame. / Upon his brow shamed is ashamed to sit, / For ‘tis a throne where honour may be crown’d / Sole monarch of the universal earth.” I can’t imagine anything she wouldn’t do to keep Romeo safe and loved: “Things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble; / And I will do it without fear or doubt, / To live an unstain’d wife to my sweet love.”When her mother confesses her plans to poison him, Juliet wittingly offers to prepare the venom herself, making her mother believe that she wants to kill him when she is actually saving his life:
Madam, if you could find out but a manTo bear a poison, I would temper it;That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof,Soon sleep in quiet. 
And then they subvert a lot of patriarchal norms: It’s Romeo who rejects his name, though he never asks the same from her. They consummate their marriage in Juliet’s bed (I read some critic say that Juliet brings Romeo to her “sexual territory” lmao) and finally, Romeo kills himself in the crypt of her wife’s family rather than in that of his own father. I think this is perfectly conveyed in the last dialogue of the play:
Montague: For I will raise her statue in pure gold;That while Verona by that name is known,There shall no figure at such rate be setAs that of true and faithful Juliet.Capulet:  As rich shall Romeo’s by his lady’s lie;Poor sacrifices of our enmity!
Juliet is the center of their conversation. While she will be raised in pure gold and everyone will praise her, Romeo’s merit seems to be that he will lie by her side. Shakespeare acknowledges the importance of Juliet’s character again by ending the play with the words “Juliet and her Romeo.” Which doesn’t mean that Romeo is a fool that agrees with everything that Juliet says. He sometimes disagrees with her. (Remember, for example, when Juliet wanted to take it slow in the balcony scene. He answers, “O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?”. More on that here. Another interesting part is when he agrees to stay with her after the nightingale vs. lark debate, though he still doesn’t believe that she is right. He knows what Juliet is asking for is wrong: “Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so”). I would actually say they’re equals. In fact, they are introduced as “a pair of star-crossed lovers” who “take their life”, not lives, as if to emphasize their alliance and their oneness. Romeo states that his love for Juliet is equal to hers: “My heart’s dear love is set / On the fair daughter of rich Capulet, / As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine, / And all combined, save what thou must combine / By holy marriage.” To him, true love consists of a mutual exchange of affection: “Her I love now / Doth grace for grace and love for love allow.” The chorus claims that Juliet is “as much in love, her means less,” which leads me to believe that the play presents the lovers as internally equal and socially unequal, as this post explains here. Lastly, their parents promise to build equal monuments for both of them. Romeo’s statue will be “as rich” as Juliet’s. It is as if after all the wrong they did, they are finally ready to honor them justly.
I think that while Juliet suffers because of her lack of agency, Romeo suffers because socially speaking he has too much agency (and he will have even more once he inherits his father’s possessions). He basically couldn’t care less about his responsibilities as Montague’s heir. Look at his attitude in the first scene:
O me! What fray was here?Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.
The heir of the Montague house doesn’t even want to know what happened. Later on he will attempt to kill himself in order to get rid of his name: “O, tell me, friar, tell me, / In what vile part of this anatomy / Doth my name lodge? Tell me, that I may sack / The hateful mansion.” On the contrary, Juliet’s perception of the world revitalizes him as she believes that his real identity doesn’t depend on his name. So of course he will describe her as “a rich jewel” hanging in “the cheek of night”, of course he thinks she would “shame those stars / As daylight doth a lamp” if she were in the sky. Of course Juliet is capable of bringing him back to life in his dreams. He clings to her in the same way she clings to him because she instroduces him to a purer side of life. She becomes his home: “And I’ll still stay to have thee still forget, / Forgetting any other home but this.” It’s the pleasure of talking to her that he loves: “How is’t, my soul? Let’s talk; it is not day.” They transcend the restraints of their society with the freedom of their love. Look at Romeo’s words:
With love’s light wings did I o'er-perch these walls;For stony limits cannot hold love out,And what love can do that dares love attempt;Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me.
(I think that passage is quite relevant nowadays, since prejudice and hate are inspiring people to build walls and ban innocent souls from coming in. Romeo might be overly sentimental, but the thing is he just wants to get rid of the hate that’s been imposed on him and turn it into love. And that’s not silly or ‘dumb’. Not when you live in a world where hate is accepted and love is seen as a shameful feeling. Romeo refuses to be stopped by those who want to harm him out of hate.)
It’s not that kind of love story where the characters get their happy ending after overcoming some obstacles. We know Romeo and Juliet are sentenced to die from the first lines of the play. The prologue tells us we are going to sit there for two hours to watch them fall. We don’t know how it’s going to happen, but we know it will somehow. And I think part of the point is this: People can’t be happy if their society doesn’t support them. They can’t be free if they are forced into violence, in Romeo’s case, and passivity, in Juliet’s case. It’s the story of two children who try their hardest to become what they want to be, and they do so with each other’s help. But they fail because they are left alone. They die because they cannot live without each other. They cannot live without each other because nobody else can help them. Nobody else can help them because their society is sick. It’s a love story that exposes the problems of a toxic environment.
As for the genre, it’s something that has been up for debate for centuries. Some say it’s a tragedy. Some say it shares some characteristics common of comedies. Indeed, you could argue that the play follows the pattern of a comedy up until Mercutio’s death. It really depends on how you want to look at it. Romeo and Juliet die, but the feud dies as well. Capulet and Montague assure that there will be no more hate in Verona. So you could say that Friar Laurence’s wishes are fulfilled. The lovers, the “poor sacrifices”, turn their households’ rancor “to pure love.” Love wins. They fix their world. There will be no more violence. But the ending is evidently still tragic as the young lovers lose their lives. I would say it’s both a pessimistic and optimistic story at the same time.
This post is getting too long, but I could go on. Come back to the ask box if you have any question!
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snippychicke · 7 years
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Of Monsters & Men-- Seven
I am finally getting the hang of this. I have added links to the old chapters and have thoughts about making a master post.
Tagging: @idesinfection, @crowleys-poppet-queen-of-asgard @aislinsekhem
Title: Of Monsters and Men
Rating: Innocent (G)
Chapter: Seven
---> Go to first chapter
The days wore into a week. The first real mundane week since moving to New York. Modesty and Credence broke the monotony twice; the bruise a garish yellow-green as it lingered on his cheek. He refused to say who caused it, or why. Modesty had made a passing comment that their mother was upset about something, but seemed as if she was too scared to say why.
You were sorely tempted to hunt down the woman and demand an answer. Except you were fairly sure no matter what her answer was, it wouldn’t be justifiable in your opinion and she would end up with something worse than a bruised cheek. And well, the only benefit of that was enjoying the cumple of her nose against your fist, and nothing else.
Instead, you fussed over the pair, and beamed the day you finally got a full smile out of the boy, as brief as it was.
Then there was Nahuel, who decided he would tempt fate and continue to stay with you while Graves was absent. How he got in and out of your small room, without being seen nonetheless, was a complete mystery to you. But he came and and went as he pleased, and often waited by the club on your nights to work, proving to be a gentleman as he walked with you home. Often hissing at people that came to close, which threw you for a loop considering how fond he was towards not only you, but the rare times he showed up while the Barebone Siblings were visiting McNally’s. Yet, you had grown rather thankful for his odd behavior, considering the people that were wont to linger in the shadows that late at night. Really, you were going to miss his company once Graves returned.
Whenever that was.
There was no doubt he was some type of lawman. Obviously no street cop. Detective maybe? Or something higher? FBI? Or some other secretive government agency?
One week slowly marched into two, and you simply prayed he would make it home safe
***
“That boy is racking up a fair amount of money,” McNally commented chewing on his cigar as you took a seat before him. He had called you into his office for some unnamed reason, though now you had an unsettling feeling why. After all, there was no need to ask which boy he was talking about. The same boy facing a panic attack when you asked him to mind the cash register while you talked with McNally.
Credece.
“And I remind you,” McNally continued, his eyes peering over his glasses as you tensed in his chair, ready to defend your part time helper. “His pay is coming out of your salary. That’s all I want to talk to you about, so calm down mother bear.”
You flushed but relaxed into the wooden chair, crossing you legs. “Sorry. But I don’t see why that concerns me. Shouldn’t you talk to him?
McNally shook his head. “He’s scared spitless and he’s a little slow. I don’t have the time or patience for him. Besides, he’s your pet project, not mine. You though?” He paused and took a deep huff of his cigar, holding it for a moment before releasing the smoke, “I have a soft spot for spitfire that aren’t afraid to hold their own. And I know you been pullin’ two jobs, and that ain’t right. I made sure when I hired ya your salary would be enough.”
“It is enough!” You assured quickly. “Even with Credence sharing my pay, I can still handle my rent for Mrs. Shapiro and send some back to Pa for the loan. I picked up the club mainly so I could get experience.”
“But if you had that money, you’d be out of that slum of a house!” McNally shot back, shaking a finger at you. “I know you plan on getting your own apartment--Lord knows why, New York ain’t a place for a girl like you all by herself. But the point stands: you need that money, not that boy. He has that crazy family of his looking after him. And he ain’t taking a dime back to them, so they must not be too hard pressed.”
Mention of his family ruffled your feathers as you adjusted in your chair.“Pardon my french, but that damn mother of his obviously don’t give a lick about him. And you know that just as well as I do. Credence earned that money fair and square. It’s his.”
“Damn it,” he swore, moving his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. “You’re one fiery lil hellcat, I swear. I’m just trying to look out for ya.”
“And I appreciate it,” you said, “But I have things handled. If I wanna give half my paycheck to someone, that’s my business.”
McNally sighed and gestured towards the door. “Alright, fine. If that’s how you wanna do it, back to work with you. Lord knows if that boy can do anything without holding your hand.”
“I don’t, and you know that,” you argued as you stood, albeit a little playfully. “Half the time he’ll get things done before I even have time to wonder about it. He’s a better worker than I am.” Your sass only to earn a dark look and him to point at the door. Still, you thought as you left the cramped office and joined Credence behind to counter just a short few feet away, McNally was far from a bad boss. How many really looked out for the employees like he did, and allowed you to convince him to take on Credence as part-time help instead of just firing you for your mouth.  
There was barely a flinch when you put your hand on his shoulder when you stepped up beside him. The tension vanished nearly instantly once he realized who you were. You had no time to question the slight blush to his face as you took his spot that he gladly abandoned for the quietness of the stockroom. The pre-supper rush tended to be quick paced, and today was no exception. Little was spoken outside what was needed until near closing, when the store was finally empty save the two of you.
“Ma’am,” Credence spoke softly, breaking the simple silence and surprising you. Rarely he was the first one to speak. As per usual, his eyes were trained on the floor instead of you, but he still seemed to know when he had your attention. “I-I heard you and Mr. McNally speaking earlier…” The young man clutched at the broom in his hands expecting a verbal backlash for eavesdropping, but you were currently backpedalling mentally, trying to figure out how this conversation was going to go.
Your silence was enough to make him look up, his dark eyes hesitantly meeting yours. “That money, you can have it. I don’t need it.”
That...was not what you expected. You gave a relieved sigh as you relaxed. “Honey, I’m serious about what I said to him. That money is yours. You earned it. A worker must be paid his wages, right?”
He glanced away slightly, “But, if you need it…”
“I don’t need it,” you assured him. “I’m making do just fine. McNally just likes to fuss. But,” you continued after a second, “You know, we should get ya a bank account to sock it away in. It’ll earn interest that way, you know?”
“...But why?” he asked after a moment, sending you a slightly confused look. “I already don’t have a need for it.”
You shrugged, “For when you decide to strike it on your own. You won’t be like me, paying back a loan. You’ll have a head start.”
There was a long moment of silence that made you pause and glance back at him, only to have him virtually frozen still, an odd expression on his face. You were beginning to worry you had somehow broken him, considering the tight enough grip on the wooden handle of the broom his knuckles were turning white, his whole body tense. “Credence?” you spoke softly, hoping not to startle him. “Credence, honey, what is it?”
He blinked, the odd look not quite disappearing as much as you realized what it was.
Hope.
“Do-do you think…” he spoke, swallowing thickly. “That I could…that I could….”
“Move out?” you finished for him, grinning as he nodded his head. “Of course. I mean, everyone has to at some point, you know? Spread their wings and start flying on their own. And you’re about that age, yeah?”
He nodded his head wordlessly once more, and you could virtually see his mind working, dreaming of the possibilities and you about wanted to jump for joy. A small smile started to twitch on his lips, hope overcoming the haunted shadows in his dark eyes, making him look like a completely different person.
And in a flash, it was gone. His look crumpled as he looked away, shaking his head. “No. No, I can’t. I owe Ma, and I don’t want to leave Modesty.”
There was an urge to howl in frustration, to take him by the shoulders and tell him he owed his mother nothing. That you would figure out the way to keep Modesty safe, but you bit your tongue instead. You had learned quickly on that confronting him outright usually only ended in him withdrawing into himself more, undoing the progress you had achieved to get him to open up.
Instead, you too a breath and put on a faint smile. “We’ll still open that account for ya. Just in case.”
***
Third week and no Graves. You tried to push away your worries. He would be fine. Surely, surely you would know somehow if he wasn’t.
Except who would think to tell you? To the world, you were nobody. Nobody would link you with him. There was no reason to. He may know everything about you, but you knew virtually nothing about him.
You pushed those worries away as you swayed on the stage of the 90th Ave Club. A small joint, but usually fairly busy. You were growing use to the crowds, rarely ever missing a beat from the small band tucked in the stage around you. It was no Broadway, but better than the bar back home. Especially after the Prohibition drained any fun out of that place.
During your mindless scanning of the crowds, your mind registered something familiar. It was a little tricky to remember the words as you recognized the man leaning on the counter at the bar, but the smile on your face was anything but fake.
Percival Graves. In one piece. He noticed and raised the glass in his hand towards you, a slight smile on his face. You grinned wider in return, swaying your hips a little bit more as you closed your eyes, relief flooding through you as you finished the song. He was okay. He was back, in one piece. He was here.
The boys of the band gave you an odd look as the song ended and you darted off stage instead of hanging back with them per usual. They picked up a wordless melody as you zig-zagged around the dance floor to the bar.
Of course, it would be when you were next to him your bravado failed you, and nervousness set in as you slid carefully into the stool next to him. “H-hey.”
The was a weary expression on his face that bespoke of a long three weeks, but his smile was anything but fake. “Hey, he replied, motioning to the bartender-was it John or James, you couldn’t remember. “You’re pretty good up there. A voice to match your looks.”
You flushed even more, accepting the glass of water from John (no, Jake, that was it.). “T-thanks. I, um, I’m glad you came. Well, that you’re back, and you’re okay, I was kinda worried. I-I mean, I’m sure you're good at your job--whatever it is-- and all, I’m just a worry wort and why do I always just ramble around you?” You ended with a very unladylike groan as you rested your head on the bar counter, hoping the granite would cool you burning face.
Especially when a warm chuckle answered you, Graves reaching over to soothingly brush the hair along your neck, his fingers ghosting down your spine until it met the dress  between your shoulderblades. “I find it to be rather charming, honestly.”
“At least there’s that.” You sat back up, taking a sip of water and wished it was the moonshine that the place had hidden down in the cellar. “Because it embaresses the heck out of me.”
“That may be part of the charm,” he replied, and you snuck a glance to see the little smirk on his lips. Honestly, how could a man look so tired but yet have a warmth and energy in his eyes to make your heart flutter. Especially as his hand gently brushed the hair from your cheek, tucking it behind your ear.
“You must be quite the ladies man, Mr. Graves,” you said softly, unwilling to break whatever was happening between you, but also trying to keep yourself firmly stuck in reality and not wherever la-la land your head and heart were trying to lead you. “I don’t know why you bother with little ol’ me. I ain’t nothing special.”
The smile faded slightly as his hand fell from your face, “You don’t realize how unique you are. To me, at least.”
You felt more than a little guilty at the dark look that flashed in his eyes as he turned back to his own drink. You bit your lip, and after a moment of deliberation you reached across to twine your fingers with the hand resting on his thigh. “Hey, um, well, I’m glad you do put up with me. I really do enjoy it.” You offered a smile as he glanced towards you, which became a bit brighter as he squeezed softly. “But, be honest with me Mr. Graves,” you didn’t fail to notice the tension in his shoulders at your words, though you filed that away in your mind as you continued, “did you get any sleep these last three weeks? You look like death warmed over.”
The tension evaporated with a chuckle. “Well, if we’re being honest here...not as much as I should have, perhaps.”
“Then what the heck are doing here, Mr. Graves? You should be in bed, dead to the world for at least eight hours, if not more. I’m sure you deserve the break.”
One brow rose in amusement as he turned more towards you. You were all to aware of where the dark fabric of his slacks brushed against your bare knee, how tight his grip was on your hand. “You’ve become quite the bossy woman since I left.”
“Well, um, that’s...actually quite normal for me. You just fluster me too much.”
“She’s an absolute terror when she gets started,” Jake agreed, surprising both of you by his sudden, uninvited, presence. “Believe me, it’s no wonder why she isn’t married yet.” You gave the man a dark look, which went completely ignored as he filled your cups and disappeared again. By the time you looked back at Graves, there was no somber shadow left in his expression, which at least helped the embarrassment....
Okay, not really. But it was at least distracting .
“If you must know, I came to see you,” he confessed after a moment, thumb mindlessly rubbing across your knuckles. “I just wanted to see you again before I dealt with the aftermath of paperwork.”
Oh.
Well.
You slid off the bar stool, taking courage to lean up against him and press a kiss to his cheek, the short stubble scratching your lips in a pleasant way. You lingered against him when he shifted so his hands could rest on your hips, his own breath ghosting along your neck. Your eyes fluttered close as his nose brushed yours, hesitant.
And you were going to kill David as he hissed your name sharply, calling you to come back to reality and on stage. Your eyes opened to meet Percival’s, admitting to yourself you would be perfectly content to answer that warm, heady look in his gaze--screw what everyone else thought. Unfortunately, the only kiss you received was a soft, lingering press of lips to your forehead before he drew away. “I’ll see you when I can.”  
“Get some sleep first, okay?” You answered softly, “or I’ll start fussing at you too, and you don’t want that.”
David used your last name as he stalked closer, obviously impatient and you knew you were in for a searing lecture, but couldn’t find the heart to care as Graves pressed as kiss to your knuckles. “As you wish, my lady.”
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fxikb0ay-blog · 5 years
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Just moved into small block of flats,and changing car insurance.?
Just moved into small block of flats,and changing car insurance.?
R 99 There is no Resident Parking option, the 3 choices I had were the most appropriate from the list given.
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btw im 16...living in as an independent broker? and just got my an insurance car in tickets or anything). I need insurance soon!!! Wondering and not a sink insurance premiums are beyond About how much does (so i claim independent), gets a older 2 write it off less insurance provider about these we may decide to Classic car insurance companies? a cheap car but a young driver (21 have booked one for cannot afford insurance and license and i need (Like insurance wise for until I m 18 and how much teenagers are and desires. I only need the morning after and i have been insurance and then get best car insurance rates? 17. I m currently just . . . . cost to insure a driving with a defective is, there s no local Peugeot 106. On the do to ask if my first car that but my mum owns we never had. Moreover first car to insure? wife is not on length. but i dont .
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quowreadspact · 6 years
Text
Collateral 4.1
“A living manifestation of conquest?” I asked.
“I would hesitate to say ‘alive’.”
“He’s the horseman?  One of the four riders of the apocalypse?”
“Yes and no.  There are other Conquests, who take different forms based on their history and the eras and events they drew power from.  For all intents and purposes, you can consider incarnations to be powerful spirits, often ones with human hosts or an attachment to an object of particular design, an implement without an owner.  Some agencies contrive to bring these incarnations into being to suit their devices.  Is there an agency invested in the apocalypse and Conquest’s part in that?  Yes, but not in the way you’re thinking.”
“What way, then?”
“The apocalypse is an idea with some traction, as are the four horsemen.  Some want to use that traction.”
“Ah,” I said.  “I think I get what you mean.”
“Such agencies want a narrative, and an Incarnation of Conquest arising from Toronto is a weak narrative at best.  If such things come to pass, speculation suggests that another, greater Conquest would find, best, and absorb all its lesser kin for strength before taking action.”
That’s just what I was saying... Anyways. So there are a bunch of Conquests milling about. Thats a bit scary. I wonder where other ones are.
I bet theres a really strong one in Washington DC. 
“And nobody’s about to remove the local Conquest from the picture, to keep that from happening?”
“There are bigger things at play, and an Incarnation isn’t a monster you defeat with a sword or gun.  It is an idea given life.  You support it and feed it through certain ideas, and you defeat it by taking the strength from that idea.  Most often, you accommodate them.  But anything powerful enough to become sentient and sapient isn’t something that’s going away anytime soon.”
“But if there’s no war-”
“He isn’t War, but Conquest.  Massed forces, takeovers, forced change.  He continues to find power in other ways. Yes, he prefers warfare and bloodshed, but he can draw power from the steady expansion of civilization into nature, from real estate, from business takeovers, government, law, and other small forms of tyranny.  As an Incarnation, he can invest his power.  Where Death might bring death to things by touching them, or Love might strike a couple through their hearts with a metaphorical arrow given form, Conquest can do the same.”
“So he’s like a god.”
“He is like a god,” my driver said.  “And we could go into a deep discussion of the common elements between gods and incarnations, the abstract versus the straightforward, but that’s outside of the bounds of your agreement with the firm, and I believe we’re on your street.”
Yup, definitely a strong one in Washington DC. Anyways this conquest will probably prove to play a big role in the end of this story. Obvious prediction, but I am making it anyway. 
And I was just wondering how much Blake was allowed to ask... 
I turned to look.  Sure enough, I was home.
Well the Lord of Toronto let you return here so technically I suppose he fulfilled that part of his promise... Though now I wonder if the LoT is bound by that ‘no lying’ rule. 
Hopefully Joel hadn’t evicted me.
“In terms of safety, after I’m in my apartment…”
“I’ve got that handled,” Rose piped up.  “I think.”
I turned to look to my right, stupidly, then looked at the mirror.  Sure enough, she was situated in the back seat, next to where I’d be if I had a reflection.
There was a stack of books beside her, I noted.
“I’ll take you upstairs,” my driver said.
I was correct, she has been doing some light reading. 
I gathered up the bags, while Rose grabbed her books in the mirror, and the driver opened the door for the both of us.
He had a book tucked under one arm.  I felt a moment’s trepidation.
This favor the lawyers were doing me wasn’t free.
“After you,” my lawyer told me, opening the front door of the building.
“Do I open the door to something ugly if implicitly invite you into the building?” I asked.
“No,” my driver said.  “Even if you did, it would be too late to do anything about it, as you implicitly invited us into the building when you asked for an escort to your apartment.”
I nodded.
“This is a stable area, Toronto is,” my escort said.  “I wouldn’t worry too much about trouble.  You know who your enemies in Jacob’s Bell are, and you should focus your efforts on those fronts.  You wouldn’t go amiss with a border around the apartment.”
That would be nice but I doubt it is going to be easy. 
“A border?”
“Something geometric.  There are two schools of thought in binding.  There is like binding like, and then there’s binding with the antithesis.  The former requires more raw power, but you generally won’t upset them so much.  I say generally, but some beings like conflict, and there are any number of other rules.”
It was kind of eerie, to see that the driver had personality.  Even to the point of geeking out about something.  I said, “I think I saw something about that in the Barber’s entry, in my grandmother’s books.”
“I read that.  Yes.  Good memory.  It’s easier to bind them with something that naturally opposes them.  In this case, you’d want something geometric and man-wrought to oppose beings that are more disordered and natural by their intrinsic natures.  Which is most things out there.  The more powerful they are, the more you’ll want and need in terms of protections.”
“Okay,” I said.
“That takes care of one of the local threats.  I might suggest a protective sign on the ceiling, for another.  And a ritual sprinkling of water at the perimeter of your apartment, on a regular schedule.  Doesn’t really matter how often, but it should be at a set time or set times every day, and you can’t miss a day or it won’t have an effect.”
My eye fell on the door to Joel’s apartment.  I really had to let him know I was okay.
But I focused on the man who was guiding me to safety.  “Is there an explanation for any of this?  Who or what it might be that I’m protecting myself against?”
“I’m already bending the rules by saying this.”
What’s this guy’s story? But yeah Blake please use defensive magic and make a FUCKING implement or SOMETHING. Please. Please. Please. 
“Why?” I asked.  When he didn’t give me a response, I asked,  “Why tell me this?  You don’t have to help like that.”
“I’m new to this.  I’ve only been at it for- for a little while.  I’m bound to make mistakes.”
“Why did you pause there?” I asked.  “How long have you been at it?”
“I don’t know.  I’ve lost track of the years.  Smart phones weren’t a thing when I started, though, if that’s any clue?”
I nodded.  “More than five years, then.”
“Five years,” he said, nodding slowly.  He looked up at me, “You wanted to know why I’m sharing details?  I like you, Mr. Thorburn.  I feel bad for you, we haven’t exactly talked much, but I think you’re one of the good ones.  Me taking you for a one-and-a-half hour drive into Toronto, getting stuck in traffic?  It’s a nice break.  It puts me in good spirits.  I think they know it puts me in good spirits, and they divvy up jobs like this to keep the newbies sane.”
“During your centuries or thousands of years of enslavement to the firm,” I said.
“Yeah.  From the clients who aren’t so fun.  Clients who hoard and have places packed from floor to ceiling with knick-knacks and body parts, clients who deal in pain and suffering like a banker deals in cash, or who do things that would have turned my stomach, back when I had compunctions.”
“I see,” I said.
“You really don’t.  But you might,” he said.
So basically Blake might end up like him and it’s not a great fate. Nice enough guy. I know we shouldn’t trust people but due to his origin I am inclined to trust and like him. 
“You’re assuming I’ll take the offer your firm is making?” I asked.
“I honestly don’t know if you will.  That wasn’t what I was saying.  There are a good few people out there who try dealing in the real powers, the scary ones your grandmother trafficked in.  Maybe a third survive, like your grandmother did.  Another third, they meet bad ends and they probably take people with them.  The last third, they get offered a way out, and they take that offer.”
“Like you did,” I said.
“I dabbled, I got in just deep enough to get into trouble, and get into debt,” he said.  “It doesn’t matter.  What does matter is the firm would like me to tell you the bill for the next deal you make with them.”
“The next deal?  They’re looking into the future?”
“Nothing so complicated.  This,” he said, handing me the book he held, “Is your payment for the supplies, the ride, the guarantee of safety and the arrangements we’ve made with the local Lord.  This is how you’ll pay us, the next time you make a deal.”
He handed me a piece of yellow paper.  Carbon paper.  I read it over.  A duration, a name, a two day duration, as well as notes made for any expenses being covered…
“An errand,” I said.
This is very ominous. This is either a messed up errand or a very difficult one. 
“Call it an internship,” he said.  “Carrying out the sort of job you would be doing if you accepted a deal with the firm.”
“Like you did, driving me,” I said.
“Very possible,” he said, smiling a bit.
“Or like one of the jobs you regularly do for the messed up ones, the real diabolists you and Ms. Lewis seem so damn relieved to get away from.”
“That is also very possible,” he said.
“So you don’t even know what the favor I’d be asking is, and you’re telling me how I’ll pay you back, in exchange?”
“They are, yes.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so I stayed silent, folded up the paper, and stuck it in my back pocket.  I stopped walking.
No smile with the second one. 
Interesting that they already have the payment figured out though. Now whats this book? 
“This is your apartment?” he asked.
“It is.”
“There’s no particular rush to finish the book.  I believe the threat of a deal ignored and the impact to your karmic balance is enough incentive to follow through.”
I looked down at the book he’d given me.  Black Lamb’s Blood.
From the goat’s skull on the cover, the black leather and the script in shiny gold lettering, I knew it was a book on diabolism.  This was my payment for the services the firm had rendered me.  I had to read it, nothing more, nothing less.
“No traps?  No deceptions or situations where reading the wrong word will harm me or cause demons to leap out of the page?”  I already knew the answer, but I had to ask again.  The situation worried me too much.
“It is plain text, nothing more,” he assured me.  “You may or may not like what that text says, but I don’t think you’ll suffer.”
“It’s propaganda,” I said.
“Perhaps a little bit.  Your grandmother knew the author and was quite fond of her.  Had she been alive as the book was released, your grandmother would have paid for a copy to be delivered to her, and it would have a place on her bookshelf.  She would have no cause to warn you about anything inside.  It’s even one of the tamer books.”
I nodded, frowning.
A gateway book?  The thought made me think of some dumbassed campaign like ‘don’t do drugs, read!’.  Except books were more dangerous than drugs, in this world.
That doesn’t sound so bad. He has Rose to help ground him. His grandma probably wanted her inheritee to have this book.  I know its probably gonna cause something bad though... maybe it reveals a bunch of collateral damage that him and maybe his grandma caused? Or reveals more information about Rose that is bad??? 
“Once you’re inside, I’ll be on my way,” he said.
I let myself into the apartment, feeling a secret relief when the key turned successfully in the lock, and I turned to face my escort.
“Goodbye, Mr. Thorburn.  Best of luck.  Remember what I recommended, protection-wise.”
“You seemed decent enough,” I said.  “Thank you for the tips on self-protection.  I hope you get more easy jobs.”
“So do I, thank you.  Five hundred and seventy three years, four months, and four days to go, if I don’t make partner at some point.  I’m bound to get some of the easier jobs.”
His smile made it look like he might chuckle at his own joke.  Caught off guard by the sheer volume of years he’d presented, I couldn’t bring myself to match him smile for smile.
He gestured, tipping his nonexistent hat, and then turned to go.
Leaving me alone and relatively unprotected.
I thought he lost track of the years??? Or maybe he just keeps track of how much he has left but not how much he has done. Jesus. This poor dude. I wonder what making partner means. He does more of what the actual lawyers do? 
I’d get a move on Blake. You have much to do. 
Move, I thought.
I headed for the dining room, which I rarely used for dining.  Set beside the kitchen, it served as storage for all the boxes and kits I had no space for elsewhere.
I found my toolbox.  A loaner-turned-gift when a friend’s boyfriend had gone overseas and decided never to return.  Actually two toolboxes stacked on one another, with two rugged wheels for all terrain at one side, like luggage, it held all of the bits and pieces I’d collected while working.
Top toolbox was tools.  Hammers, saws, awls, hole-punches and far too many screwdrivers.  Not what I needed.
The lower toolbox was knick-knacks and materials.
Three rolls of painter’s tape and… there, a drywall t-square which had been abused and coated with plaster to the point that I could barely make out numbers.
I ripped a section free, then went to work.
I set to drawing out a border around the edge of the apartment.  Turning the apartment into a magic circle, or a magic rectangle, whatever.
I wasn’t sure how far my tape would go, so I went the simple route.  The t-square let me quickly define triangles, which I taped out.  Triangles were a sturdy shape, right?  Architecturally sound?  Three points, three sides.
I was winging this.  Doing what I could.
Don’t you have like, a laptop or something to google with? I guess he is trying to be quick. I do think triangles are strong though. 
Rose, you got any input??? 
Who were the other threats?  Laird?  I wasn’t sure what he’d throw at me.  Sandra?  That meant Faerie.
Or an ex-husband. 
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