#several others have more regular light colored or clear wings | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

titilationexpress · 3 years

Text

StarscreamxReader-Sweet Dreams are made of Screams Ch.1

First ever lemon. Please give your input. Reposting from my Ao3.

You haven’t been able to sleep properly for weeks now. And frankly, you’re wondering if you ever will again in your lifetime.

Yet what caused you to have such a problem with something that once came to you so easily? Ok, maybe not easily. No, scratch that. It was never easy. You had to take some sleeping pills every night to even get a few hours in. Still, how did it happen?

Well, the trouble had started back not long ago. In fact, from what you could recall, it hadn’t even been a full month before your ‘problem’ started. See, you were a fairly average individual. You had your quirks, your habits, the little things that make each person an individual. One particular interest you had though was quite specific, and even more, came from a decade long before you were born.

Transformers.

Oh yes, your beginnings were humble when you first started with the franchise, and you looked with wide, awe-filled eyes. Your starting place was where you first discovered it, the one show that will remain in your heart forever. From that, you got into the characters, the story, the lore of what started as a toyline for young boys (though it was clear now that both sexes had a love for it), all of it. And from there, you went on to past and future generations from your starting point, and now, you were a certified Transformers fan! Hell, one of your favorite sites ever is TFWiki.

With this entrance into the fandom, you took to devouring everything that you could: the cartoons and animes, the books, the movies, fanfiction, fanart, fan comics, doujinshi, anything and everything that you could get your hands on, you did. And not long after, you began contributing yourself, drawing, writing, whatever you could to make your stand and have your place in the community. At first, it worked well enough, you weren’t exactly prolific, yet you were doing well enough. You managed to get a few requests for certain things to be drawn/written, believe it or not, but still, you weren’t overly big.

And then came your discovery of the Reader genre.

What is the Reader genre? Why, as far as you were concerned, only one of the greatest genres ever to be conceived! Well, to be more accurate, the form of writing wasn’t anything new, remembering the ‘Choose Your Adventure’ books. It seemed said genre now spread everywhere, you being very aware of the numerous games and dating sims that ranged from well done and engaging to outright ridiculous and stupid (but those were fun in their unique way). And since you didn’t have any knowledge or time to do that, you settled for writing them yourself. Your first piece was a simple Optimus x Reader with the standard plot and standard outcome, which was a declaration of love and a resulting kiss with the Autobot Leader. You were NOT expecting the overflow of response that it had gotten. You were quite shocked, but at the same time, overjoyed. Soon, you decided to try your luck with another one, this one being of Bumblebee, the scenario being mostly the same, albeit with a bit more cutesy fluff, as in your mind, Bumblebee was always the little guy. This one was just as successful, and you beamed, having finally found your calling.

Since then, you were getting requests left and right for more and more choices, all spanning different universes. From the animated cartoons to the comics, different universes, everything that spanned from the most well-known incarnations to the more obscure. It was through these that you managed to get even more into the Transformers multiverse as a whole and even discovered some truly overlooked gems. You opened yourself up to the people and declared that you would write whatever they requested, but you had some taboos that you wouldn’t touch. But any scenario, character, and universe, all of that was fair game.

You had originally begun working on more mundane, typical stories with expected outcomes (but sweet ones nonetheless), yet over time, the requests and your imagination began getting more creative and crazy. Soon, you were delving into several different areas that you had never touched. Elves, goblins, mermaids, vampires, forbidden love, love triangles, all of these were laid at your feet. And while it took a bit to find your rhythm, all of this having come on you so fast, you eventually got it and soon, you had a wide collection of X Reader stories, ranging from G1 to Prime and IDW’s run.

You mainly did Autobots, for you had to admit that writing for them, while they were still complex characters, came somewhat easier for you. True, each of them had their faults and quirks (both from canon and headcanons people had come up with), yet they were still the good guys, and even those with more questionable morality still came out as heroes in the end. But then one day came where you were asked to write about a Decepticon. This threw you for a loop, as, while the thought had intrigued you, you had been writing for good guys for some time, so a total shift in direction was somewhat off-putting and scary. Possibilities of it being too saccharine or sweet, or getting the characters wrong or out of character scared you a bit, yet still, you wanted to test the waters and see if you could do it. And if you could, this would open up so much more for you.

And judging from the input, you had just struck gold yet again.

Soon, not only were you flooded with requests for Autobots, but now their foes were also available, and, as you found out, people had just as much an attraction for the darkness as they did for the light. Again, the same scenarios were implemented, yet now, they had something of a darker edge to them, which allowed you to explore some subjects you couldn’t touch with the Autobots without toning it back somewhat. In a way, the Decepticons provided you with more freedom. Ironic, seeing as Megatron’s motto was “Peace through Tyranny.”

That said, you went through the list of available characters throughout the generations, and so far, those had been garnering quite a following as well, your Autobot and Decepticon stories neck and neck in popularity. Everything seemed to be going well for you.

Then that one question came.

‘Hey, where’s Starscream?’

Then another.

‘Could you write one about Starscream?’’

Then another.

‘Hey, hate to bother you, yet I think that Starscream could use some love here.’

More and more questions and requests for the particular Decepticon filled your messages, and frankly, you were at a loss on what to do. Truth be told, you and Starscream had something of a complicated history. When you had gotten into Transformers, you had heard of the character, yet at first, you never saw why he had gained such a large fanbase. True, he wasn’t a bad character, yet he wasn’t your favorite. But over time, as you wrote more and more for the Decepticons, as well as read X Reader stories from other people, you slowly began to, as one would say, gain an interest in the winged robot. And soon, you found yourself enamored by the smug jerk as well.

But this only made you reluctant to write for him.

True, when you started writing for the Decepticons, you were allowed to experiment with some more intimate and extreme situations, yet with Starscream...it was different. It was hard to explain, yet whenever you got a request to write for him, your brain seemed to seize up. Thoughts came to your head that you had tried to banish, thoughts that came every time you saw the Seeker’s name. You had no idea what was going on or why this was so difficult, yet it seemed the Silver Snake had taken to making your fingers not touch the keyboard.

You had no idea at all. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

And since you had gotten the slew of requests, your sleep problems began. The moment you shut your eyes, the scenario began all over again.

…

You needed no introduction to where you were or what you were seeing, it all quite familiar to you now. Around you were towering walls of a silvery mauve color, the only available light from above sparse and leaving several areas coated in darkness. This place was all too familiar, for you had seen it many times in your watching and reading of Transformers.

You were in Decepticon headquarters.

Your dreams had been filled with the base of the enemy faction of the Autobots, and at first, it had shocked you as to why you were here at all. But over time, night after night, you came here, and soon, you grew accustomed to the sight of it. You took on the form of your Transformers persona/OC or remained in your regular, human form, whatever pleased you as if you had some control over this environment. Yet as you grew more familiar (you were never sure if you’d be comfortable), you began to explore the place, finding that, to your surprise, there was no one here. No signs of any sort of life aboard the ship, and while it took a good while, you traveled everywhere you could think of, and still, nothing. No Megatron, no other Decepticons, no one but you had been aboard.

At least, that was what you believed when you first had this dream. Then, you heard it. The voice. His voice.

“Oooh, I’m the Boogie Man,”

Singing, serenading, just loud enough for you to hear, yet low enough for you to know it was far away. It always started this way.

“The terrible, horrible Boogie Man,”

Your ears/audio receptors registered the voice as it echoed throughout the ship. When the dreams had begun, you knew immediately who was singing, and then you were more surprised at how it sounded. Sure, it had its infamous high pitch, yet it wasn’t bad to listen to. Daresay, it was rather enjoyable in its own way.

“I come in the middle of the night and frighten bad little girls like you.”

The first few times you had this dream, it would almost always startle you, yet it led you to look down the other balls and corridors of the ship. The results were always the same though: no one was aboard. No one but you...and him.

“Beware, better have a care,”

The song changed each and every time you entered the dream, tonight being a track you heard on a video game you played not too long ago (Bioshock 2 you believed). Yet the songs always had the same effect on you.

“I’m going to follow you everywhere.”

Despite your trepidation, you wanted...needed to follow it.

“I crawl through the ceiling and the wall and call on bad little girls like you.”

Walking, then running, you traversed the winding path before you, taking several left and right turns, having no sense of direction but that voice. A voice that, despite its infamous sound, held power to it, a siren’s song in a way. Ironic, you thought. Still, you followed, for you had reached your limit. You knew what would happen if you didn’t find him.

“I’ll torture you and hunt you,”

And never leave.

I’ve got you where I want you,”

And never let you escape this dream.

“A victim of my dark and dirty plot.”

And he knew it too. He knew he had power over you. And you hated it.

“And at the slightest whim, I’ll tear you limb from limb,”

Or…

“In other words, I’ll put you on the spot.”

Did you?

“Oooh, I’m the Boogie Man,”

You were close. So dangerously close.

“The terrible, horrible Boogie Man.”

Just a turn around the corner.

“I come in the middle of the night and frighten…”

He paused, you stopping in your tracks at what you saw. There he was. Situated behind violet bars of energy in a cell, the Decepticon stood there with his arms folded and looking upon you with satisfied, hungry red eyes.

“...bad little girls like you.”

It was him.

Starscream.

Your favorite incarnation of Starscream, those ruby orbs boring into your own eyes/optics. You stepped back from the cell, eyes/optics wide at what was before you. Sure, if you were to go by dream logic, some part of you always knew that it was ‘him’ that awaited you at the end of this journey, but still, to actually see him, standing there so casually when it looked like he was locked up, it chilled you. As if he had absolutely nothing to worry about.

“My, my, so you finally found me,” he said, his voice perfectly matching the incarnation that stood before you. “Or rather, I found you. Whichever way it goes, it doesn’t matter,” he smirked. “For I already know the outcome.”

You blinked a few times, still trying to see if who was before you had truly been there. “St…” you began nervously. “Starscream?”

The Decepticon chuckled and stepped out of the shadows, allowing you to fully see him. “In the mesh,” he said. “And I see that introductions won’t need to be made either, will they, Y/N?” your eyes/optics went wide. “That’s right, pet, I know everything. This IS your mind after all.”

“Wh-What?” you stammered. “I don’t understand.”

Starscream’s grin only grew wider. “You will soon. You will understand EVERYTHING.”

Just what was he talking about? From the looks of it, he seemed to be enjoying your tension and trepidation, very amused. Your mind went into fan mode, recalling every fact you had known of Starscream and his various incarnations, which then led to you going on the defensive. “You…” albeit, it took you a try or two. “You’re the one that’s been doing this to me. Giving me these...these weird dreams.” the Decepticon didn’t answer, yet it was clear that he already knew that the secret was out (even if it wasn’t much of one). “You’re also the one that’s not letting me have one decent night’s sleep without being trapped here!”

“Or me serenading you?” he added in. “How do you like it? I don’t do it often, yet if I wish, I can stretch out my vocal components if I want.”

Your cheeks grew hot. Damn, this bastard was already making you too wound up, and you had only gotten a few words in! “Well...I’m here now,” you said, trying to sound confident, and, ironically enough, trying to channel Megatron’s dominating aura. “So, what do you want?”

This didn’t phase him in the slightest. Despite him being the one locked up, you were the one who felt like his prisoner. “I think you already know that dear Y/N,” he said. “But to put it simply, I’m feeling left out.”

You were confused. “Left out?” You asked. “Left out of…” you paused. Indeed, you knew well what he was talking about. “My...my reader inserts.”

Starscream nodded. “Quite an extensive library you’ve built up over time.” He told you. “Though your choices could be much better.” he scoffed. “Of course goody-good Prime would be on the list, along with the rest of the Auto-dolts.” Then he grimaced. “Yet there are those that actually want to FRAG Megatron? Ugh! No taste at all!” He then looked back at you. “You’ve written for everyone, from either faction, of every series,” he then pouted. “But none for me. Truly, Y/N, I’m hurt.”

You felt quite awkward. True, while you were known online for your stories, it was your username and persona they were seeing. They weren’t someone that was right around the corner that could walk in and see you writing these things. While you loved doing it, the thought of your family or friends discovering you wrote in this genre was a thought you dared not entertain, as you swore that you’d die from embarrassment. Thus, you were very careful whenever you did it, your room completely locked tight so you could focus without fear of someone barging in. The only times you left during your writing periods were for bathroom breaks and/or to eat/drink something. It was a big secret...and thinking about it now, it was a secret no more to the most infamous backstabber in all of Transformers. You had been found out.

“Well...so what? Are you going to keep haunting me until I do?” you asked. “You can’t do that!”

Starscream didn’t seem phased by this at all. That damned smirk of his both frustrated and made you excited, a combination that left you very unsure. “Can’t I?” he asked.

You didn’t like his tone. “What do you mean?”

“Well, let’s consider for a moment, Y/N,” he said. “You believe that I’m merely a figment of your imagination, yes? A stubborn thought that is lodged in your subconscious. Am I right?” you shifted a bit, knowing well what he was saying would lead to something else. Something that probably would flip everything on its head. “Well...who’s to say that I am?”

“I...I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t. But what I say might just jog your memory.” he then went on. “In your last X Reader, you spoke of multiple versions of the characters, such as Prime and...yes, even Megatron,” Starscream scoffed. “And how it would’ve been peculiar if they met. Then, one of your readers linked you to a page on the TFWiki.” Starscream then chuckled. “Quite an array of knowledge, I must say. Especially for a primitive species such as yourselves. Anyway, said page spoke of what is labeled as the Transformers Multiverse, which, if I may say, is an excuse for you all to toy with and shape us into what YOU want. But back on track, you did a small amount of research on that, then went on about your business.”

“...and what does this have to do with why you’re here?”

Starscream smirked. “Then, after some time, you went and read the entries of me from various series and incarnations. To get a better feel for what you were thinking of writing. What you wanted to write. Only, you never did.” You were about to speak again, but the seeker spoke again before you could. “There was one detail from my earliest incarnation that spoke of a ‘ghost’, an immortal spark that couldn’t be snuffed out. One that could travel through space and time.” He drew closer to the bars. “And then discovered a way to travel through dimensions. Wherein, I found out all about how so many humans have seen my reality behind a television screen.”

What was he talking about? What did any of what he said mean? It was then that it all clicked for you. Sparks were essentially the ‘soul’ of a Transformer, which Starscream’s was indestructible. You read that he made an appearance in Beast Wars, and had made cameos elsewhere. What was before you right now...mere feet away…” Are you.. “ you stammered. “Are you really…”

The Decepticon nodded. “Yes. Yes, I am, Y/N.”

You were left speechless. No. No, this...this was impossible. It...it couldn’t be him! It couldn’t be the REAL Starscream! He was a cartoon, no, a toy! A damn toy! A toy from the eighties that were made to be marketable to young boys (and the girls that were secretly into it) among several other toys that were made be marketable to young boys (and again, the girls that were secretly into it)! There was NO way he was in your mind right now! He wasn’t real! He wasn’t real! He wasn’t-

“You step out into the chilled air, wrapping your arms around yourself as you do.” the Decepticon suddenly began. “He’s there to pick you up. He’s there to pick you up. You’re both terrified and exhilarated, eager to start the night, but also to make it fly by just enough so nothing embarrassing would happen between the two of you.” your jaw dropped when you heard him say that. How did he- “Know that you recently read over your very first entry? The one that started it all?” he then ‘rolled’ his eyes. “The one that clearly displayed that you had little taste at first?”

Of course, you did! That was from your very first X Reader story! It told of Optimus Prime and you, a human, in a relationship. Odd start, you knew, especially given that Transformer x Human relations was sort of controversial, yet overall, it wasn’t a bad one. Still, the fact he knew that…” No.” you said aloud. “It can’t be.”

He smiled. “I am.”

You stepped back until you hit a wall. “S-Starscream.” you stuttered. “You’re him. You’re the...the real one.” he was quite satisfied with your reaction, you clearly flustered yet cautious at the same time. The sensation drove you mad. But then you remember, this was just a dream! You were just making up all this stuff! You were relieved by this revelation...yet at the same time, you were...curious. Just where would this go if you continued? “Well...well, what are you doing here? What do you want?”

“Exactly as I said before, I feel left out,” Starscream told you. “And considering my popularity in this universe, I’d think me being here should tell you something.”

You knew what he wanted. “You want me to write about you.” it was obvious. “I-I know. I mean, I’ve been wanting to. Really, I have. But...but I...I just…” you sighed. If you knew Starscream (and you had at least a decent enough faith you did), you knew that this could potentially earn you his anger. Yet, to your surprise, he didn’t try to order you around. Instead, he seemed like he already knew you were going to say that.

“You can’t,” he said for you. “Understand, I’m the one in YOUR mind. Thus, you could say, I know everything about you. A perk of being something that, in this universe, started out as a drawing on a piece of paper.” you were confused, this seemed to humor Starscream even more. “Oh, come now. Surely you know that concept art exists, right?”

All of this was so insane for you, yet it was then that you felt the urge to speak up and say something for yourself for once. “Well, if you’re here from the...well, YOUR universe, what are you doing here in the first place?”

“Why, this is one of the few places I win!” Starscream exclaimed. “Of course, when I first came here, I was quite perplexed about how I and many others were known as products from a company called ‘Hasbro’. But overtime, I discovered your version of the internet, and, well, as you flesh bags say, the rest is history.” he then continued, not giving you a chance to speak. “And bring that I am an idea in this universe, I can go freely as I wish, peering into minds,” his red eyes looked upon you. “Become one’s permanent muse or vice versa.”

God, you felt weird. You felt so confused and conflicted. You wanted to sink into the wall to get away, but you also wanted to know more about this. You had to know more. You needed to know more. “So…?”

“So, I’ve come to you, as you’re truly in need of some inspiration,” Starscream said. “As well as some changes in your thinking.”

“Like what? Worshiping the ground you walk on?” you ask, feeling a little bolder.

“Oh, you already do.” he said. “If you didn’t desire me, I wouldn’t be here.” he grinned at your shocked expression. “That’s right, Y/N, I know what truly holds you back from writing about me. Your fears, your anxieties, your loves and lusts.” you had no words. “You fear that you may get me wrong if you will. That I won’t be in character. Or you fear that you won’t be able to satisfy the wants of your readers, as I AM so highly anticipated. Or…” he leaned closer to the bars, the only barrier separating you two. “You fear exploring those more intimate pleasures with me. You’re intimidated and unsure. After all, writing for Autobots is easy, yet us Decepticons are more difficult. But it HAS awakened things in you that you wish to explore on either side. Things that you are dying to let out.”

You had no words, he was completely right. Damn him! The smug bastard knew he had you in the palm of his hand...and yet also probably knew that’s what made you so hot and bothered right now! “So...what? Are you here to force me to write those things with you in them?”

“Dear Y/N, I can’t technically make you do anything,” Starscream told you. “Oh yes, I can stay and torment you night after night until either I pass onto another universe or I grow bored of you, but my reason being here is for both our benefits.”

“How?”

“It’s quite simple,” he said. “We shall go through those scenarios in your head.” his ruby red optics bore into yours/your eyes. “Together.” he then reached out from in between the bars and traced a digit around your jawline. “Believe it or not, I want to help you, Y/N.” his voice was smooth and sultry, something you never expected from a voice like his. “But only you can allow me to do so.” he then stepped back from the bars. “This prison of mine is something you’ve constructed from your fears and insecurities. Allow yourself to embrace what you fear…” he then extended his hand again, yet stepped back as well, sinking into the darkness. “Only then, will you truly be free.”

You were at a standstill. You knew what he wanted, and, to your horror, you were wanting to give it to him. Deny it all you want, this was something that had been in your mind ever since you got the first request for the Seeker. You approached the bars, trying to get some sign that he was still there. Surely he hadn’t left you, had he? No, he hadn’t. He was still there, you could feel him. Watching, waiting, and perhaps, knowing what you would do before you did.

Yet would you do it? Would you bite into that forbidden fruit?

Some while after pondering this question, you looked at the cell, the energy bars vanishing. Why fight it when you could already taste the sweet tartness of said fruit in the back of your throat?

#starscream g1 #starscream #tfp #transformers bayverse #transformers animated #transformers cyberverse #transformers x reader #lemon #set up #fanfic #reader #self insert #first part

75 notes · View notes

keilemlucent · 4 years

Text

lavender latte: iii

(T (for now!))

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 4

word count: 4.2k

a cheeky drink and some mutual sabotage.

warnings: oh no, they say s*x, fluff, pining, the usual, and a wittle angst on the side, reader smokes cigs bc its a salem trademarked fic thing

enjoy folks ;^) the whole of this piece is gonna be about? ten chapters. so. hold on tight!!!

beta read by @keiqos, heart EYES

||||||||||||||||||||||||

“Let that sit for a second or you’ll burn yourself—”

“Don’t need to tell me twice, angel. I know the drill.” Hawks replied with a wink.

You weren’t ever going to get tired of that.

You really expected Hawks to disappear out of your life. You really, truly expected him to run off for good. How many bigger, better, and more important things did he have to do? Even if you managed to speak to him and regard him like any other customer (or, perhaps acquaintance, and more recently, friend — ), your mind swam with insecurities that only seemed to get worse over time.

You were waiting for the metaphorical thread to snap.

You waited for the day Hawks simply would stop texting you flirty bullshit on a somewhat regular basis.

But, holy fuck, the dude didn’t.

You couldn’t think of why. You weren’t complaining about the attention, but you also were terrified of getting too used to it. Hawks was a part... bird (?) right? He was flighty by nature.

Despite this, Hawks continued to not only text you but also stopped by the shop fairly frequently for his special, quirk-fueled beverage fix. Politely, he’d text you the day before he planned to make an appearance to check and see if you were working, and then show up the next day like it was nothing.

He usually wouldn’t stay for long; the hero was ungodly busy and always on the move. But, he always took the time to flirt and get a full description of his drink before dashing out to save the world once more.

Most days he visited were his ‘hero work’ days. He’d appear in his costume, done up and dashing for a sip and a quick talk before disappearing once more into the skies. Every once in a while, Hawks had an ‘office’ day where he’d be confined to his agency to catch up on his insane backlog of paperwork. On these occasions, Hawks would talk (stall) at the tea shop for as long as possible. You talked and joked with him as long as he would let you. Sure, it put you behind on work, but no one at the shop was going to tell you off for fraternizing with the number two hero (whose repeated presence was drawing more customers anyways). You both reveled in each other's attention, drinking in the other’s slowly softening smiles and quick wit.

On this day, Keigo’s wings were the shittiest they had been in a while. Plucked and almost barren with how much he’d been working lately. Total exhaustion seemed like it was constantly on the horizon, tugging as his eyelids and weighing down his chest each morning.

It was easier to get out of bed when he got to think about seeing you.

Sure, your drinks were a perk. Very much so. He was getting so used to the artisan beverages you crafted that the taste of his normal canned coffee was starting to bother him.

But, what his real thrill in visiting the tea shop was that he got to see you, and that made his heart pound.

He sat across from you, looking down into your newest drink. It swirled between dark and milky, a heady, rich aroma billowing up with the steam it produced. He had requested something ‘surprising, new, and horribly caffeinated’ as deep fatigue was the worst villain he’d likely see that day. You had just nodded, cheekily starting to prepare his drink with a bounce in your step, pupils going wide.

“I feel like you’re gonna start running out of ideas one of these days,” Keigo laughed, adjusting himself on his stool, gloves and jacket removed. He almost looked like a normal patron.

You grinned to yourself, idly cleaning around you as you often did, “I dunno, I’ve got a lot.”

Hawks raised an eyebrow, “Tell me about them.”

“Nope, top-secret,” You shook your head, digging into your apron to flash him the small notepad you carried on you.

Scrawled in nasty handwriting, you carried your many ‘feeling’ ideas around with you. Different concepts and abstractions all scribbled down, a nice long list to look back on whenever Hawks would make his appearances and his own vague requests. Your backlog of ideas made it easy to find something more than suitable to make for him.

When Hawks saw your notepad his eyes widened, tilting his head and a devious smirk coming to his lips.

Your expression fell, and you stuffed the papers back into your pocket, hiding your hot face by idly cleaning some more.

You left yourself very open for teasing, it seemed.

(Not that you or Keigo minded.)

“You keep a little list of all of your ideas! I’m beyond flattered,” Hawks ran a hand through his hair, flashing a cocky smile for you.

“I have to stay prepared, can’t be disappointing my celebrity sugar daddy,” You winked as Hawks’s eyes went wide, half-hearing a choke get caught in his throat. (You loved it when you were able to get him visibly flustered. What a treat.) You nodded down to the drink, “Should be good to try now.”

Keigo really liked spending time with you. He knew it was always fleeting and short and consistently he wanted to find reasons to stay with you at the tea shop counter for longer and longer. Your quips and chides continued to get quicker and more clever and he was having an increasingly difficult time keeping his cool around you. Most of the time he smoothed himself easily, not showing a trace other than that which he neurologically couldn’t control.

But sometimes, you were bold enough and ballsy enough to get him to gag on his literal words and he was positive that you were the only person to ever have him break composure in such a way.

He covered his weakened poise by sipping the new drink, mindfully letting the taste wash over his tongue.

Increasingly, you’d been changing up the so-called ‘vibe’ of your beverages. It seemed like each time Keigo dropped in, you had something new and vibrant to show him.

This drink was particularly different.

The taste was rich, dark, and smooth, rolling into the back of his throat and down his spine. It coated his insides with a warm, low heat. Peeking through were sweet, light accents, warm but almost... teasing?

His dick twitched.

Hawks’s mouth dropped open, any and all professional veneers dropped as you just beamed so fucking smugly at him.

“What do you think?” You leaned a bit forward, bouncing on your toes with excitement.

“Is... Is this supposed to taste like sex?” Hawks asked, taking another mouthful to confirm. Based on the way his eyes briefly shut and some of the tension rolled from his shoulders, he thoroughly confirmed it.

“Technically, it’s crafted based on like... a late-night rendezvous. I left it fairly up to interpretation beyond that. The rest is on you.” You shrugged, still bouncing as Hawks took another chug.

“What the fuck, (Y/N),” Pleasant shock colored his features, but clear amusement stretched across his lips as he continued to drink.

“You wanted something surprising and horribly caffeinated. That’s a dark chocolate mocha with two extra shots, our in-house raspberry and rhubarb syrup, a bit of white chocolate syrup, and a few of my add-ins as well. It’s pretty different from what I’ve made you before,” You blinked at him, stomach twisting as his expression remained unguarded. “I... I probably should’ve asked before giving you a drink that definitely could’ve been taken as sex. That’s my bad. I can remake you something else if you’d like?”

Keigo shook himself from his stupor, shaking his head and quickly regaining his composure. He took another sip to emphasize his words, “No, nope. It’s okay. Definitely okay. The drink is really good. I’m just now wondering something.”

“And, what’s that?” You asked, reaching behind the counter to grab your own iced beverage.

“Can your quirk be used to manifest bad feelings and concepts, just like good ones?” Keigo asked. Normally, he’d add more nuance, but he was getting impatient and sloppy around you. He’d have to keep that in check.

Especially with the way your shoulders drew up and tensed. You turned a bit away from him, any and all potential for eye contact torn away.

He hit a nerve.

“The type of abstract feeling doesn’t matter, I can emulate it,” You replied, pulling at your nails. Keigo had long picked up that it was one of your habits when your anxiety spiked.

He dropped it, but didn’t forget. There were public files on quirks. Maybe he’d look into it. Maybe. It felt a bit invasive, but considering plenty of that data was freely accessible, it hardly was an invasion of privacy, right?

(Except for the fact that it obviously made you very uncomfortable to discuss the more unsavory potentials of your quirk.)

(He just wouldn’t tell you.)

Keigo switched topics, easily rolling away from the topic, “Any particular... event that inspired this one?”

You pressed your hands into the counter, leaning over it to glare at him, “Are you referring to something with that comment, Hawks?”

He shuddered when you said his name, but you don’t notice.

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not,” Keigo shrugged easily, going for another sip.

The drink was inspired by the several day cinematic, wine-bender you went on a week or two prior. An entire weekend with just you, your cats, three entire bottles of wine, and a backlog of movies to catch up on. You tried to consume lots of different types of media, but what had been catching your eye lately had been anything with gushy romance for fairly obvious reasons.

(There was an embarrassing amount of ideas for drinks that were a bit too romantic to properly indulge with your quirk. You’d never tested the limits of how certain feelings could manifest, and you weren’t quite ready to face the reality where you could make people nut from caffeinated milk.)

“It is good though, the drink,” Hawks smacked his lips together as if it would make his coming analysis more credible. “It definitely does taste like sex, but more so complicated. Darker.”

“Deeper.” You smiled. “Your palette is getting more refined. I’m proud.”

“Are you saying it was bad to begin with?” Hawks pouted, flashing you falsely weepy eyes and a puffed out lip.

You rolled your eyes, “Yes, you yourself have admitted this. You drink canned coffee still, so I can’t even call your taste good.”

Hawks gasped, putting a hand to his chest, “I’m hurt, truly wounded.”

“I’m sure you are, tailfeathers.”

“I really thought I had reliably moved up to ‘birdboy’, angel.”

You snorted, covering your mouth with your hand, “Just goes to show how quickly the tables turn, tailfeathers.”

Hawks’s pager suddenly chimed, a familiar sign. He took a quick look at it and sighed, moving to re-robe. You were surprised by the speed at which he did so, and the way he became tense so quickly.

It made you realize that he was always tense.

(Unless he was talking to you.)

“I thought today was an office day?” You asked, a bit of a disappointment clouding your voice.

Hawks just gave a small smile, fully plastering back on his heroic facade, “Duty calls. Lots happening lately.”

He flicked his visor back over his eyes, slid you your normalized wad of cash, and whisked himself out the door, immediately taking to the skies from the streets.

He’s in a bit of a hurry.

He... didn’t even say goodbye.

Wonder what’s happening?

Truthfully, Keigo was a bit startled by the notice on his pager. The whole reason he’d started patrolling the particular neighborhood the tea shop was in was because there was word of a villain syndicate working nearby. It hardly seemed right for the neighborhood, but Keigo knew that villains hid anywhere. Whatever they were planning was still relatively shrouded, but it was clear that it needed to be treated delicately. That particular neighborhood was rife with pedestrians, businesses, and homes and any sort of villainous activity had the possibility of reaping a heavy amount of collateral damage. Keigo and the Commission had been on their guards about it, but things had been steadily becoming more intense over the past few weeks.

Plopping himself on a rooftop, Keigo took up residence to stake out his newest lead, watching figures and silhouettes in a nearby office building.

||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

Funnily enough, the rest of your week went horribly. Just downright shitty. You figured at some point, things would let up, brighten, but they didn’t. Each day brought some new, personal calamity.

The first was a trip to the emergency vet with one of your cats after she swallowed a hair tie. An expensive vet bill later, she was perfectly healthy, but you remained wracked with anxiety.

Another day, the owner of the tea shop paid a visit to chew you out for your newest tea blends not fulfilling his picky seasonal requests. You were relieved it had nothing to do with how Hawks monopolized your time. Still, getting yelled at easily within earshot of both coworkers and customers made your insides twists.

The final small disaster was when a particularly asshole-ish customer chucked a hot drink all over you and your cute white sweater. One of the younger openers had been dealing with a difficult patron and an incorrect order, nothing out of the ordinary. When you tried to step in and de-escalate the situation, the man ripped the lid from his cup and splashed you with the burning liquid. You held back any sounds of pain even as your skin stung like hell when you offered to remake his drink.

One of your managers luckily allowed you to go home early. Thank god.

By the end of your shitty week, you fell into your apartment and just cried. White sweater stained and day feeling fairly ruined, you let yourself have a good, solid sobbing session to just release how terrible things had been.

It would pass, you knew. But it sucked at the moment.

It also didn’t help that Hawks had been particularly absent after running out the last time he came around. He’d still managed to shoot you a funny text or two, but mostly, it was silence from him. You rationalized it by reminding yourself of how quickly he flew off at the end of his last visit, hero business forever more pertinent than you and the shop.

You reminded yourself to keep yourself grounded in Hawks obvious impermanence, even if you were starting to get used to (and really like) having the hero around.

You decided that your Friday evening would be good. You treated yourself to a hot shower, noting with a hiss the pink scalded skin that covered your chest from your collar bones to just below your breasts. You threw on a facemask and uncorked a bottle of wine you had been saving for a rainy day.

You clicked on one of your favorite shows, an older cartoon that brought you consistent comfort in times like those. Curled up with a knit throw blanket and your healthy cats, it did help soothe the burns, mental and physical.

That is until you got a bit too drunk on red wine and it turned into sad drunk.

So, you made your way to the roof.

You weren’t fucked up beyond belief, despite the fact that you were towing an open bottle of red in one hand and a pack of cigarettes in the left. The cold would sober you up, along with the nicotine. You hoped it would force you out of your head.

Upon throwing open the door to your apartment complex’s rooftop, you were made very aware of its wintertime disuse. The gardens that grew during the summer were snowcovered. The chairs and tables for lounging were in a similar state. You didn’t mind.

The view was still nice.

You set down your bottle and zipped up your coat. Quickly, you brushed off the flurries from a rickety lawn chair and plopped yourself down. You threw on some music from your phone, playing some sweet, old songs that made your chest ache when you needed it to.

The city stretched in front of you, beyond the rooftop. You didn’t live in a particularly wealthy district, but there was no shortage of dazzling neon and bright street lights dotting the ground below. You watched how the rest of the city stretched far beyond your little pocket, still gleaming with multi-hued lighting and dazzling in the wash of the crescent moon.

You took a swig, fishing for your self-dubbed ‘sad cigarettes’ and lit up. With your exhale, you watched as smoke lazily swirled away, carried by the soft winter wind. If you were any less drunk, you’d be freezing.

A shadow, winged, fell across the snow.

“You know, I get nervous when I see pretty girls on rooftops with bottles in their hands,” You jumped at the voice, whipping your head to the source.

Hawks stood, scarlet wings fanned outwards, on the lip of the rooftop.

Your eyes widened.

You took another sip.

He gave an affectionate laugh, jumping down into the area where you were seated.

Keigo had just been out on his normal, nightly patrol. The leak had been correct and he’d been stealthily tracking the villains while completing the rest of his hero duties. He was able to laugh off his exhaustion, but it was starting to eat him. Several cans of coffee a day was hardly doing it for him. He hid his sleepiness and aches well, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t difficult. All the same, his typical roles had to be fulfilled.

He was surprised to see you, all alone on a rooftop with a lit cigarette between your fingers. Keigo let himself be surprised before noting that ‘ yes, you definitely probably live in this apartment building and you’re just outside to smoke’, but the sudden jolt of panic he felt was crushingly unbearable.

Mostly because it was personally protective and not heroically instinctual and he couldn’t start acknowledging that aspect of his feelings for you. Not yet.

Keigo walked towards you, asking, watching you blink blearily at him “You doing alright?”

Eyes downcast, you shrugged, “We all feel shitty sometimes. Just depends on how you cope, ‘ya know?”

“And how do you cope, (Y/N)?” Keigo asked, pausing before brushing off a chair. “Mind if I join you for a bit? I could use a second to rest my wings.”

You nodded, almost offering him the bottle, but quickly pulling it back to your chest before taking another inhale. Offering a pro hero alcohol while he was pretty obviously working seemed like a bad move, even in your tipsy state.

“Most of the time, I watch nice stuff and distract myself, like most people, ya’ know?” You exhaled as you smoked, relishing the nicotine buzz. “Sometimes, though, I just feel extra shitty and need to extra cope.”

Hawks hummed in agreement, sitting back in the chair. His wings were folded up and over its back, the longest feathers trailing in the small snowdrift behind him.

“Do you get cold, being in the sky all the time?” You asked, eyes going cloudy as you stared up at the lights of the city and higher into the sky.

“Most of the time,” Hawks chuckled, throwing his arms behind his head, “I’ve told you this, angel. It was one of our first conversations.”

Your eyes widened at the realization, mouth open with a hearty laugh.

It made Keigo’s eyes water a little. He blamed it on the wind.

“I’m silly, I can’t believe I forgot,” You nestled back into your chair, tracing the lines between constellations. “It’s the whole reason you came to the teashop in the first place.”

Your voice resonated, focus foggy. Somewhere else, old memories played in your mind, recounting your first few meetings with Hawks.

A warm, small smile stretched across your face as you traced the stars.

Keigo watched, enraptured. You were cute, especially like this. All bundled up in your winter coat, half-zipped. There was a lot less stress in your shoulders than he normally saw at the shop, especially as your thoughts were so far away.

He wanted nothing more than to commit the contours and shadows of your face in the white moonlight to memory, never forgotten in the blissful cold.

You interrupted his thoughts so beautifully.

“Thanks for talking to me.” You took a sip from your bottle just after speaking, half-drowning your words, but Keigo caught each one. “I appreciate you.”

“P-pardon?” Keigo couldn’t tell if you caught his stutter, but even if you did, you didn’t show it. The comment felt like a jab to his jaw, half-knocking the wind of him and turning him into a filthy masochist. He’d take any whiplash if it meant you saying such kindnesses to him.

How could you just say shit like that?

What exactly did you mean by that?

Why did your attention make his legs tremble?

You turned your attention from the night sky to Hawks, something like uncertainty bubbling in your chest, “I appreciate you, ya’ know? Coming by the tea shop still, teasing each other and shit, you humoring me—”

Hawks interrupted you, feathers tensing at his back.

“I’m not humoring you.” Hawks deadpanned, staring at you oddly seriously. The yolks of his eyes seemed even more intense in the neon and night light.

“You’re... not?”

There was utter disbelief in your voice, accented by the way your jaw was half-opened.

Hawks shook his head, standing in emphasis, feathers fluttering as he did, “ No, angel. Not at all. I visit because...”

I like you.

“Because I like your drinks.”

Because you make me feel good in a way I’ve never felt.

“You’re fun to talk to, too. Added perk.”

Because I want to hear your voice when I breathe and when I die.

“I enjoy it, you know? You're fun.”

Some feeling in your chest, something full of hope, crushed itself and compacted to the point of pain. You sniffled at his admission, blaming it on the cold. In a fucked up, sad way, part of you was so relieved.

He likes the shop. He likes your drinks.

He’s around because he wants to be.

But not because you’re special to him.

His words reminded you of your insignificance in Hawks’s life. No matter how much you craved his attention and words, and more recently found yourself staring at the plumpness of his lips and the curve of his cupids bow and daydreaming about how much you wanted to lean over the tea shop's counter and kiss the constant, teasing smile off his face—

But.

You don’t matter that much to him.

Sure, he likes you, but he’ll never feel the same way about you.

You made the decision then to make the most out of Hawk’s affections and sweet words. You’d take what you could get, even if it was fleeting and probably eventually heartbreaking. It seemed smart, to refuse to get your hopes up for someone so unattainable.

You let out a shaking sigh, “Thank you, Hawks. I appreciate you coming around. You really light up my day.”

Keigo saw the fall of your face and bottled himself up. Shoved down everything. Fuck his feeling, fuck how he felt about you, this was all fucking terrifying. It was getting to be too much and he had to try and control himself.

Just like he’d been taught so well.

He was just so happy to be around you. He could squash his feelings, even if they were fairly obviously somewhat mutual. God knows that he didn’t know how to handle anything like that.

On the gods, his pager beeped.

“Duty calls?” You said, standing up yourself and brushing off the stray snowflakes.

“Seems so.” Hawks sighed, nodding, “Thanks for letting me rest here. It was good to see you, (Y/N). I’ll see you soon, okay?”

You waved goodbye as Hawks disappeared as quickly as he came, launching himself from the roof with the heavy sound of wing beats.

Soaring away, Keigo risked a final look at you. He swore he saw tears in your eyes.

He forcibly repressed his feelings, reminding himself that your company, words, and quirk-made beverages were more than enough. The flutter in his chest when he thought of you wouldn’t rest, but he could learn to ignore it.

On the roof of your apartment, you felt fatigue in your bones and wetness on your cheeks. You ignored both in favor of smoking another cigarette, soft, melancholy music being your only constant, reliable companion.

You reminded yourself that he, Hawks, was a temporary fixture, more flighty than most and liked you just enough and for surface-level reasons. You could take that. You’d do anything to be around him more, even if it never amounted to anything.

You, just as Keigo did, pressed down any larger feelings.

(The thing about feelings, though, that neither of you was very good at remembering, was that they don’t go away. Sure, you can let them go, but that takes time or a practiced mind!)

(When you take feelings, big, aching, soaking feelings and shove them down into the deepest parts of you, they just tend to make you bleed. The ‘hidden’ feelings color your blood as it spills, even if you don’t notice when it falls and its change in hue.)

(One can only hope that both Keigo and you listened instead of lied.)

Both of your hearts ached, and neither of you fully understood why.

#salem writes #hawks x reader #mha hawks #bnha hawks #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #reader insert #mha x reader #keigo x reader #hawks x y/n #takami keigo x y/n #lavender latte #bnha x reader

609 notes · View notes

nautiscarader · 3 years

Text

Nautiscarader’s Wendip Week day 4: Lost key

Wendy and Dipper find and old drive-in cinema with a locked cabinet inside the projector room...

"lost key" really has almost no connection to the story, it was just excuse to use an idea I've had for a while ;)

One summer the two decided to put their passion for old cheesy movies (the worst they could find (la la la)) to action and try to refurbish and old drive in cinema. It worked for exactly one night, because the projector was haunted.

(Ao3)

===================

Dipper Pines has seen a lot of strange things around Gravity Falls: ancient buildings, communes of magical creatures, tasty fat-free food, you name it. And yet, on occasions like these, despite his years of expertise, he was still stumped by his findings.

- Why would anyone build a huge empty billboard in the middle of the woods?

He scratched his head, walking around a huge once-white rectangle, propped between trees that now have overgrown it, blocking it from sight. Only because of its unnaturally light colour he and Wendy have managed to spot it during one of their many walks around the forest.

And it was Wendy that very quickly made him realise that the thing he was looking at was not exactly what he thought it to be.

- Dude, it's a screen! - she exclaimed - This must have been a drive-in theatre!

She spread her arms, and only now Dipper realised how oddly flat the meadow they were on was. He then noticed more and more evidence of her being right: rusty, metal poles he thought to be part of some fences, turned out to be holders for old speakers, though with very little electronics left.

And a huge, moss-covered rock was revealed to be a half-dilapidated carcass of a car that served as a home to some birds that flew way when Dipper uncovered it.

But there was one more mystery, and Wendy was on it, carefully looking around.

- If that's the screen, then the projector must be...

She turned around trying to spot it in the thick forest that have overgrown the place.

- There! Look!

Wendy pointed to a building on a nearby hill they previously thought to be just an abandoned shelter. But a rectangular hole in its wall, pointing towards the screen proved her right once more.

- Jackpot! - Dipper shouted - Let's check it out.

The two didn't have to break in - the door have succumbed to the passage of time years ago, giving Wendy and Dipper a mesmerising sight of an old projector room, filled with antiquated technology, frozen in time, as if they were the first people to explore it.

- Dude... do you think it still works? - Wendy suddenly spoke, as she looked through the hole in the wall at the place they've just left.

The answer became obvious when Dipper pulled the large handle on the wall, and with low, buzzing noise, the equipment woke up from its slumber, though Dipper put it back to sleep, knowing well not to test a potential fire-hazard too much.

- That's awesome! Do you know what that means? - Er, no... - We could, I don't know, renovate this place! This could be a new local attraction!

Dipper's eyes widened.

- You know, this isn't a bad idea! We would need some movies first, though...

He looked around, until he heard Wendy's playful grunt. The red-head was pointing out to a locked, metal cabinet with "Movies" written on it.

- Jackpot again... er, we just need to find a key.

He pointed to the rather imposing paddlock on the door. Wendy snickered.

- Stay back, man, I've got this.

She grabbed her axe and with a precise move, she hit the rusty piece of metal that practically turned to dust, and with a loud clunking noise, the door moved.

Wendy and Dipper eagerly grabbed each wing and opened it ajar, revealing rows of old circular reels of film, covered in only a thin layer of dust, preserved by time.

Dipper grabbed one of them, and gently blew the dust away, revealing the title.

- "Hare goulash"? - he raised his brow - From 1933... wow, this place is from the forties! Old as heck. - Maybe it's old, but it's still one of our finest!

With a loud, cluttering noise, Dipper dropped the metal reel to the ground when a third voice joined theirs. Wendy jumped back as well, and readied her weapon, though she was not quite prepared for what she saw.

A ghost with thick, bushy eyebrows and a moustache appeared from between the reels of old movies, wearing a tuxedo, a bowtie and a comically large glasses.

- Woah, lady, be careful with that axe, I've already cut down on my smoking!

He pointed a ghostly cigar at her and, contrary to his own words, took it back into his mouth, much to both Dipper's and Wendy's confusion.

- Who are you? - Me? I should be asking you, I didn't know the circus was back in town! You are the weirdest travelling salespeople we've had in years! - Er... we?

Wendy asked the question, just as the answers revealed themselves to them. With more cluttering, two more spectres materialised from the storage closet, one wearing a bowler hat and the other a rather tarnished cylinder, eyeing the two living beings with eerie, wide-eyed stares.

- Woah, nelly, are we back in action? - the second ghost asked - I sure hope they haven't invented color movies, I only have black and white clothes!

The third ghost didn't say anything, but filled the room with melodious tune of his flute, at least until he looked at Wendy, and whistled loudly.

- Hey, watch out! - Dipper stepped forward. - Watch? - the first ghost chimed back, floating around her - Aren't you the ones to do so? We're the actors here! - What the-

Dipper yelped when his vision was obscured by his own vest being tossed over his head by the other two ghosts.

- Well, great, now the spectres have spectators! So, what are you kids doing here? Cos' I hate to break it you, you ain't gonna sell us any cookies to us.

The ghost with rather thick, bushy eyebrows sat, or rather levitated over the chair and produced a large cloud of smoke from what would be his lungs.

- We've just found this place. - Dipper explained, fixing his clothes - So, do you guys live here?

A loud, horn noise filled the room when one of the ghost produced one from nowhere and honked it at Dipper.

- Time-out for the nosy one! You don't say "live" to a ghost, you know. - Okay, okay - Wendy continued - Were you guys locked in this closet? - No complaints from me - the middle ghost answered - I can't imagine a better company than these two.

He hugged his two ghostly friends, much to their displeasure.

- Imagine that happening for sixty years. And he's the one who thinks he can sing! - Er, do you... do you guys have names? - Moustachio, at my service! - the moustache-wearing one bowed, and reached for Wendy's hand, only to grab and kiss his own. - Chorizo! - the second one lifted his hat, revealing two ghostly mice living underneath it - And this one's Honky, you can guess why.

Another loud sound, this time from a trombone filled the room, when Honky greeted Dipper and played his ghostly instrument.

- Okay, that's-that's neat... I guess. I'm Dipper, and this is Wendy.

Dipper introduced them to the ghosts, still standing a few feet away from them.

- We, uh, we were thinking if we could renovate this place... - Why? Are these cobwebs out of fashion?

The ghost grabbed both ends of his moustache and spread it apart, revealing several ghost spiders on an impressive grid of cobwebs.

- Ew! Stop it!

Wendy automatically swiped her axe, slicing the ghost in half.

- Hey, if you think I need to get back on a diet, you could have just told me! - Chorizo spoke, tugging his lower part back as if it was his pants. - No, you don't get it - Dipper continued - Wendy... Wendy just had an idea that we could bring this place back to li-, I mean, make it work again. - So we could play your movies again! They are all yours, right? - Hey, this one's bright! - Chorizo said, putting sunglasses onto his nose. - Hmm...

Moustachio twirled the end of his whiskers, until he grabbed his two ghostly friends.

- Team meeting! And you two, no peeking!

The see-through ghost turned around and he whispered something to the other two. Chorizo chimed in after a while, and sad tune of violin meant Honky gave his vote on the matter.

After just a few seconds, the three turned around and faced Wendy and Dipper.

- After long and heated discussion we came to a *clear* conclusion. - Moustachio spoke - We're old, you're young, so we hate you by definition. Get out of our lawn, it was nice meeting you!

And with that, the ghosts grabbed Wendy and Dipper and unceremoniously tossed them out of the bunker-like building, closing what remained of the door right in front of their nose.

- Oh, you little-

Wendy got up at once and tried kicking the dilapidated door open.

- Is that the pizza? It better be, it's been half a century! - Open up, you old farts! - Wendy roared - Uh, Wen-Wendy? - Dipper gently nudged her - Maybe we shouldn't be interrupting them...? - Are you kidding me? We could make this place running and have fun, and these three weirdos think they own the place. - Uh, maybe they do? - Dipper raised his brow - I mean, it looks like this place has a whole set of their movies...

Wendy gave him a disappointed stare.

- I thought you were on with this plan... - Uh, Wendy, listen - he quickly corrected himself - I like watching old movies with you, but you know, at your place. I don't need- - But wouldn't it be more fun? To see them on big screen? - We could just... go to the regular movies, you know.

Wendy's smile faded away.

- You're no fun...

She kicked a nearby rock and turned around, and began walking down the hill.

- We-Wendy, wait!

Dipper slid after her, trying not to tumble down.

- Okay, let's-let's say I'm up with... this crazy plan. How could we do this?

Wendy's freckled face lightened, gracing Dipper with a beaming smile. She reached to her pocket and took her phone out.

- Well, answer this: who are you gonna call?

Dipper's eyes widened, as he understood her plan.

- Oh, great, phoneboxes can fit in a pocket now! Hope the bills are equally small. - Moustachio said, appearing out of the ground.

Several hours and one phonecall later, Wendy and Dipper came back to the abandoned drive-in theater, equipped with the best vacuum cleaners they could get.

The two shared knowing looks, nodded and stormed inside the projector room, ready to kick the ghosts' non-existent butts.

- Oh, good, we were waiting for you! We needed a fourth one. - Moustachio, Chorizo and Honky tossed their cards into the air, as the three left their card game. - And the small one can be the joker! - Hey! - Wendy stepped forward - Don't you ever call him that...

She turned on the portable vaccum cleaner and with a steady hand, aimed it at the three, with Dipper quickly joining her, sucking the stale air, and the ghosts with it.

The three spectres let out sharp yells (Honky using a triangle), and grabbed a nearby rail, as their bodies stretched and thinned, being sucked into the machines Dipper and Wendy pointed at them.

But as the two were sure of their victory, the three ghosts escaped their grip with ease, proving they were never in any danger at all, laughing and pointing at the teenagers, floating freely above them.

- Oh come on, using Hoovers to get rid of ghosts? - Moustachio rolled his eyes - We were the ones making comedies for fifty years, and even that plot is too silly for us. - And I bet you didn't even change the bags, we're kinda sick of the dust and all! - Oh, we were not going to trap you here...

Wendy and Dipper smiled at the same time, reaching into their pockets.

- Don't you know that cameras can trap souls?

And with that, the room was illuminated with flashes of light, as the two began shooting the ghosts with photo after photo, making them twist and writhe in after-agony.

A loud piano tune broke the silence, as Honky waved a white flag.

- Alright, alright, stop doing that! - Moustachio yelled - We've already sold our souls to Hollywood, who knows how much we have left.

At once, Dipper and Wendy lowered their "weapons", still wearing the same cocky smiles.

- So, you youngsters want to spend a night at a cinema, eh? Well, I guess it's yours, we can haunt a vaudeville or something. - Nah, you can stay here. - Wendy eagerly countered - We just wanted to do some cleaning...

The two raised their vacuum cleaners and turned them on, this time pointing to the dusty, dusty floor.

===========

It took Dipper a better part of the day cleaning the projector room, and the next four or five days restoring the parking lot.

Wendy offered to cut down the trees that have overgrown the place, and she came back the next day with a few benches made out of the same wood, as the place was certainly not up for any cars anymore.

Dipper took care of the electric circuits, making sure the place was up to the modern standards ("You don't want to know how much worse the Health and Safety inspectors are in the afterlife, kiddo!").

Wendy also nicked some fresh white bedsheets and used them to repair the white screen to properly display the movie.

By the end of a week of tiring work, the theater, though still looking old, was at least brought to a working state, with Wendy and Dipper excited to be it first customers, before opening it to the public.

They walked into the projector room, where the three ghosts turned on the machine, lighting up the glade with white light. But as Dipper was about to pick up a reel of a movie, Moustachio grabbed it and absorbed them into his see-through body, together with the rest of the collection.

- Hey! What gives? - Wendy shouted back. - You know, we gave it a thought, and we're not just gonna play the movies for ya'. - Moustachio spoke - I figured out how to retroactively file a copyright claim on our movies! They're no longer in public domain, they're in boo-blic domain.

The three ghosts grinned.

- If you want to run this cinema, now you have to pay us! - And we will adjust for inflation! - Chorizo added. - What? No! - We should bust you again just because of that joke. - Dipper added - And besides, who told you how to do that?

By now, Dipper should have learned not to ask questions about money in Gravity Falls.

- Hiya kids! - Grunkle Stan?!

Wendy and Dipper roared in disbelief, as the old entrepreneur casually walked into the room, playfully swinging his cane.

- I see you've met my pals! - he grinned jovially and closed his arm around the ghosts in a brotherly hug. - And I gotta tell you, I have huge plans for this place. Look, I stole some microchips or whatnot from Ford and glued them to the cups.

He tilted a large styrofoam cup he was holding, proudly presenting a small, sparkling device underneath it.

- And apparently, now you cannot get refills! You have to buy a new drink every time! And I only kinda understand how it works!

He burst into maniacal laughter, dragging his ghostly friends with him. The men laughed and walked out of the projector room, though only one of them was able to do it without colliding into a wall.

- Well, looks like this is it.

Dipper sighed and turned away, kicking a half-century old can. But he quickly felt Wendy's hand on his shoulder, as she stopped him.

- Maybe... but guess who made camrips of their movies?

She waved her phone, and Dipper's face brightened, before they too burst into a fit of giggles. With the prize in their hand, the two teenagers were soon running away to a much cozier place.

A few minutes later, they were sitting in the dilapidated car, in front of now-empty screen, their faces illuminated by the light of the cellphone. The two laughed, as an actor from the bygone days said the same joke for the fifth time in a row, getting his face plastered with a pie.

- Hey, Dipper? - Wendy suddenly asked, in the middle of a musical number - Yeah? - Thanks for everything. And for... you know, helping me out. - Yeah, shame it didn't work. - Hey, it wasn't that bad. We've had some fun, didn't we?

Even though her face was half-hidden in shadows, Dipper could see a faint blush, contrasting with her gleaming, emerald eyes, which in turn made his cheeks match her.

Their faces got closer and closer, and suddenly, the warm August night became as hot as noon in the middle of a heatwave. And just as their lips were about to meet, they were drowned in white, bright light and they jumped in their seats as the old speaker crackled with a high-pitched noise.

The two looked at the sign projected on to the screen, and groaned, when the ghost repeated those words.

- Kissing costs extra five bucks!

#nautiscaraderfics #wendipweek #wendip week #wendip #wendy corduroy #dipper pines #gravity falls

15 notes · View notes

solastia · 4 years

Text

The Dragon’s Lair | 6

- Riddle Me This -

Pairing: Dragon Hybrid Namjoon x Reader

Word Count: 5,094

Notes: It feels like so much has happened and this has been going on for so long, right? But this is actually the very beginning of my long and complicated outline lmao. Anyway, it’s time to meet our Sphinx! I wonder who this could be *insert lenny face here* And if you’re wondering if there will ever be an end to me adding other kpop fandoms: no, no there will not be. We’re catchin em all.

The winter storms were slowly giving into the spring rains. Of course, this made everything horribly humid and muddy, but at least you weren’t snowed in for days on end anymore.

As soon as you were able, you scheduled contractors that specialized in hybrid-friendly rooms to help get one prepared, as you fully planned on starting the adoption process for Mark when it was done. You had to make sure it had its own heating and cooling system separate from the rest of the house, insulation for winter, and UV lighting, among other things. Needless to say, it was not going to be a quick process, but Mark was safe at the shelter with Heechul’s near-constant vigilance.

You’d also begun to clear out the barn that you’ve only been using for storage since your grandparents had adopted out all of their animals. You weren’t quite sure how serious you were yet about getting some animals in there again, but for now, it gave you something to do while construction was going on inside your home.

You spent a lot of time throwing out or giving away anything unusable, sweeping out stalls, and scrubbing everything down until it shone like it hadn’t in years. Thankfully you still kept in touch with a lot of the people that had worked with your family over the years and it was easy to have fresh supplies brought in, half of which you weren’t even sure you’d ever use, but everyone was happy to hear that the farm was going back to work in a sense.

Despite all these other changes, your relationship with Namjoon was settled into a comfortable path. Not to say that things were unexciting - the man never failed to find some new way to make your heart flutter - but it felt secure and steady now. Like the two of you being a forever thing was assured. It continually surprised you when you remembered that you actually hadn’t been together for very long. He felt like he’d always been there.

Most days were simply routine. You’d both wake up at the same time and shower - together more often than not -, have breakfast and then he’d head to the shelter while you’d work in your office. At least three times a week you’d meet up to have lunch together, thankful that both of you had lenient bosses that wouldn’t freak out when an hour-long lunch turned into two or three. Once he was home for the day, the two of you usually just spent your time together. You’d watch a movie or read while you cuddled on the couch, oftentimes ignoring the screen to simply listen to him talk. The way he viewed the world was beautiful and you never grew tired of listening.

Namjoon had put his foot down and declared date night mandatory. So every single Saturday without fail he’d drag you into town for some event or into the mountains for a hike, always doing his best to create the most romantic day possible. You’d tried to convince him that he didn’t need to do all this, that simply walking with him in the forest near your home was romantic as long as he was there, but he claimed he was still “courting” you so it wasn’t something he could just stop. You assumed that meant it was something to do with his Dragon side and let him do as he pleased.

Once a week you’d usually tag along and go to the shelter, spending most of your time in the playrooms. According to one of the volunteers, Heechul’s shelter held an average of one hundred and fifty hybrids at any given time, which seemed an astronomical amount if one didn’t know about the secret wings and the fact that you were pretty sure he’d borrowed the whole ‘bigger on the inside’ concept.

You tried to spend as much time as you could with all the hybrids, but as you were only one person there was only so much you could do. Still, you did have your - as Heechul called them - “cub club.” There have been many arguments in the little group about the name - starting with you wondering why they needed a name at all - since they were composed of all different species, but they gave in after Heechul’s continuous use of it and the fact that it apparently was cute, according to Namjoon.

Basically, it was a group of hybrids that seemed to have singled you out as a clear favorite and would follow you around the moment you stepped into the building. The unspoken leader of the group was your little Mark, who was always waiting by the front door of the building when you would come in. Usually right next to him was Felix, who seemed to split his time between your cubs and Namjoon’s fan club fairly equally. Some newer friends of yours were a teen tiger hybrid named Seonghwa, and wolf pup siblings Changkyun and Jooheon. There were a few others that came and went, but these were your regular crew.

Today was one of your shelter days, and you were once again surrounded in the playrooms. Mark was sitting next to you with his raccoon hybrid friend Donghyuck, who was an honorary member of Star’s Cubs at this point with how often he was attached to Mark. They were both coloring a picture of their dream bedroom - a sneaky idea you’d gotten so that you could have Mark’s room ready and decorated when the adoption finalized.

Felix was having a Namjoon day, so after he’d run up to hug you when you’d first arrived, he’d gone right back to the class that Namjoon was currently teaching. You’d probably see him again at lunch, and then he’d talk a mile a minute about everything Namjoon was teaching him and demand cuddles.

Changkyun and Jooheon were currently wrestling around on the floor near your feet. They were a complicated pair. They had both been found in the wild several months ago, seemingly without any sort of parents or guardians whatsoever. The boys themselves weren’t sure, but you judged them to be around nine or ten. They were smart kids but had obviously been living on their own for quite some time. They mentioned a “her” a few times, speaking of someone from their memories that would make certain foods or clean them, but they couldn’t remember who she was. Their mother, you assumed.

Needless to say, they were perhaps not the most well-mannered children, but they were sweet and eager to please. To you, at least. The other volunteers usually tried to interact with them as little as possible after a few too many bites and temper tantrums, often referring to them as feral monsters. You had, of course, taken that up with Heechul, but the damage had already been done and they were labeled as such by everyone. From the day Jooheon had met you, however, he’d decided you “smelled nice” and would bring you scraps from their dinners (that they apparently hoarded - bad habits left from living in the wild). It had taken Changkyun a little longer to warm up to you, but one day he’d just walked up and pushed Felix out of your lap and took his place. You’d scolded him and made him apologize, but you’d let him stay, deciding it had probably been a very long time since he’d been hugged by anyone besides his brother. They’d gotten better about waiting their turn and learning to ask first, but you still went out of your way to cuddle them as much as they’d let you.

Seonghwa sat nearby doing his homework. He was...interesting. It was the nicest thing you could think of to say about that whole situation. The thing was, he was a nice kid. Almost seventeen, had been here for a few years. Definitely beautiful, no denying that. You didn’t know too much about his past yet, as you hadn’t wanted to pry and he didn’t volunteer much information. He helped you with the younger kids a lot though, asked you about your work, was genuinely sweet, and fun to talk to when he was just chill. The issue was...you were apparently his “first love.”

He wasn’t creepy about it or anything. He really was super sweet. He would bring you flowers and treats, help you carry anything heavy, and was just really attentive. Unfortunately, then he’d start walking around you in circles, staring intently with his tail flicking around in the air as he sang to you. He had a sweet voice, but they were of course all highly inappropriate love songs to be singing to an older woman. And according to Namjoon, the circling and singing thing was a tiger courting ritual, so you took great care not to acknowledge it. You’d tried letting him down as gently as possible, but somehow he seemed to just consider it more of a challenge, and you really didn’t want to be mean and be his first heartbreak as well. Namjoon surprisingly - or not since he could be a brat himself - thought it was hilarious. He’d often ask how your tiger cub was doing, laughing when you’d swat him. Of course, he was still a territorial dragon, so he would occasionally go out of his way to kiss you with a bit too much tongue or pinch your butt where everyone could see to get the message of your status across.

Things at the shelter have been fairly quiet and routine, as far as such a big place could be. That’s why you were awfully surprised when Heechul storms into the playroom looking distraught and frazzled. He brightens slightly when he spots you, rushing over and placing his hands on his hips.

“You’d be perfect, I don’t know why I didn’t think of that earlier!”

You frown, thoroughly confused. “Thanks, I think. For what?”

He clucks and shakes his head.

“We have an exotic on his way here. He was one of mine that I raised until he was ten, and then he was adopted by this lovely couple. Unfortunately, they were a bit too old even then, but they adored Seokjin so I let him go.” He sighs wearily and flops into a nearby recliner. “They passed away last year and left him everything. He’d been living on his own just fine until someone tried to rob the place and he ended up hurt. Then the police of course had to see his medical records and - surprise! - a hybrid had been running around owning a house and living free for an entire year and they don’t like that. They were going to send him to a state-run hybrid institution, which essentially means death if you’re not a baby or usable on the black market. So, he called me in a panic and I have it all settled with the police that he’s officially one of ours and they don’t have to worry about him anymore. But he’s too used to independence to stuff him back into regular hybrid life, so I was thinking maybe you could foster him? Just like, let him hang out at your place until we figure out some way he can go back to living how he likes?”

“I mean, I have to check in with Namjoon, but I don’t see why not. What kind of hybrid is he?”

“Sphinx,” Heechul answered, his deadpan voice at odds with his amused eyes.

“A what now?”

“Sphinx. You know, part bird, lion and man. Likes riddles. Has big statues.”

“Sure, why not,” you sigh. This place really made your brain hurt.

Heechul chuckled and reached out to pat your shoulder.

“Thanks. I know it’s a lot to deal with right now, with your new romance and getting ready for Mark, but Seokjin deserves a chance. I think you’ll like him.”

“You know, it’s really creepy when you do that. At least let me tell you with words what I’m planning about Mark.”

“I didn’t even need to use magic to see that’s where it was headed. He’s basically already yours,” he scoffs, standing up with a light groan.

“When is this Seokjin going to be here?”

“He’s on his way to the shelter now. I figured he could just come here first, meet you and have dinner with everyone, then head home with you guys after. If that’s okay.”

“Again, just have to check with Joon, but it should be fine. Sphinx and dragons aren’t like, mortal enemies or anything, are they?”

Heechul grins, “Hardly. In fact, I remember they were actually pretty good friends when they were little. Jin was older and would tolerate Joonie like a big brother. Not sure how well Namjoon remembers him, though.”

“Alright, I guess. Joon’s class is over in a few minutes. I’ll go talk to him now.”

“Thanks, Star!”

You shake your head as he flounces away, wondering when he’d started using that name too. At this point, that was basically your official name.

“Does that mean you’re going to have to stay home all the time? To take care of a new hybrid?”

A little sniffle came from your right as you registered the fact that your cubs had just been quietly listening to your conversation with Heechul. Mark’s eyes were beginning to glisten with unshed tears and you quickly snatched the boy up and cuddled him close.

“Of course not, sweetheart. By the sounds of it, he’s older than both me and Joon, so he’s not going to need much looking after. He basically just needs a place to crash until he figures out what to do.”

“Oh,” he sniffles again, and you try not to laugh about the fact that it’s not helping, as his nose is starting to water too. “So you’ll still come to see me?”

“Of course! And as soon as the farm is cleaned up you can come to visit me too. How does that sound?”

“Really? And Felix? And Hyuckie? And...and…”

“Yes,” you interrupt, knowing the boy will try to name literally everyone he’s ever talked to. “Anyone that wants to visit will be able to. I just wanted to make sure it’s safe first, so no one gets sick.”

“Okay!” Mark squeezes you clumsily but is quickly back to being a ray of sunshine and crawling off of you to go back to his picture.

“Seonghwa,” you call, snorting inwardly as the tiger practically jumps to attention, “Watch the kids for a bit, okay? I’m going to see Namjoon.”

He nods quietly and sets his books down, smiling softly as he watches you leave the room.

***

As you’d expected, Namjoon was more than agreeable to the idea of helping his childhood friend but was understandably concerned over how his dragon instincts would react to another creature in his new den with his new...well, mate. (Although he insists that you aren’t official mates yet. And he blushes and refuses to answer whenever you ask what makes you official).

“It’s just, like, I don’t want to stress him out even more, you know? If he’s already going through all this, then I don’t want to be growling and snapping at him,” Namjoon sighed as he stood with you in the lobby, grasping your hand tightly as you both waited for Seokjin to show up.

“I know, but Heechul told me that Seokjin is the only one of his kind as well so if anyone were to understand that this is a learning situation and not blame you for it, it would be someone like him, right?”

Namjoon shrugs, “I guess. From what I remember, Jin hyung was really outspoken too, so I think he’d be sure to let me know if I do something to offend him.”

“And if all else fails, you can just take him behind the house and piss on him,” you try to hide your grin as you tease him.

He growls playfully, leaning down to tug your hair. “Watch it. I’ll mark you next.”

“I thought you already did,” you quirk an eyebrow as you refer to certain activities that had taken place before he’d let you leave your bed that morning.

“Hey, let's keep the rating down in my presence, please,” Heechul sighs wearily from the other side of you.

The two of you fight valiantly to keep your giggles under control, only able to stop fully once a taxi pulls up in front of the building and nerves once again take over.

The man that steps out takes even your breath away - quite a feat considering how whipped you were for your own boyfriend. He’s tall, nearly as tall as Namjoon, and has a regal bearing. He has a face that many would pay millions for, with full lips and wide expressive eyes. His hair and lion ears were the same mahogany brown shade, as was the fluffy tip of his long tail. It seemed he had no trouble showing off his lion side. You weren’t sure if that’s all there was to his transformation though, considering he was a Sphinx, not just a lion.

He turned to pay the driver, who was actually smiling and laughing like the two of them were old friends. Seokjin reached out and shook the man’s hand heartily and shoved what was apparently too much money towards him if the way the man tried to argue about it was any indication. You supposed this meant Seokjin was the friendly sort, which boded well.

You were a little confused by the fact that the hybrid was only carrying a single suitcase. Perhaps he had left the rest behind to be picked up later? From what Heechul had told you, the hybrid had grown up in a fairly wealthy household, spoiled and doted on. You would think he would be walking in here with twenty name brand suitcases, and yet here he was with only a small rolling suitcase meant for a child with Mario on it. Something about that felt wrong.

The hybrid seemed fine, however, breezing through the front door with a wide smile like all was right in the world. He stopped right in front of Heechul and stared at him a moment, cocking his head.

“You haven’t changed a bit, hyung. You don’t have a single new wrinkle. Are you trying to compete with me?”

Heechul huffs and reaches out to hug the man. Seokjin laughs quietly, pulling Heechul into a bear hug so fierce Heechul squeaks a little. He releases him and pats him on the shoulder before he turns to Namjoon.

“Don’t tell me you’re little Joon bug? You can’t be anyone else, with those dimples. I used to swear I could use them as cereal bowls if we ever ran out.”

Namjoon shyly looks down and kicks his foot, but he’s smiling. “Hi, Seokjin-ssi. It’s nice to see you again.”

The hybrid waves his hand carelessly, “Just call me hyung, Namjoon. Or even just Jin. We don’t need honorifics with our kind.”

Namjoon nods and pulls you closer, drawing the Sphinx’s attention. His thick brow raises your way as his smile quirks mischievously.

“And this must be Miss Star, the one I’ve been hearing so much about,” he raises up his hand like he’s going to shake yours, but the moment you grasp it he holds on tightly. His face suddenly settles into serious lines as he looks down into your eyes.

“Answer me this. As small as your thumb, I am light in the air. You may hear me before you see me, but trust that I’m here.”

You hadn’t been prepared for this, for some reason. Duh, Sphinx’s whole thing was about riddles.

You bite your lip and give it some thought for a moment. “A hummingbird?”

His smile brightens back up and he releases your hand before he slaps Namjoon’s back.

“Hey, she’s smart. You got a good one”

“Yeah…” Namjoon answers dreamily, staring down at you with a dopey grin. You blush and grab his hand.

Jin’s arm was back to flailing around again, and you were wondering if he was in control of his limbs or if it was the other way around.

“Hey, listen, want to hear a joke about construction?” he asks. You’re not sure if he really expects an answer, but you squeak out a somewhat genuine sounding “Sure,” anyway.

“I'm still working on it,” he answers, before cackling loudly, his laughter practically shaking the glass windows as he slaps his leg in amusement.

You decide, if nothing else, he seems easy to keep entertained.

You politely laugh and wait for him to finish before taking the chance to steer the conversation in another direction.

“Are you hungry? We thought we’d stay and have dinner here before we went home. Only if you’re comfortable with that, though.”

“I’m famished,” Jin answered, slapping his flat and obviously in-shape stomach like it was the opposite. “I wouldn’t mind sticking around. Kyungsoo still the cook here?”

“Yup. And Wendy is making dessert,” Heechul tells him as he grabs the little suitcase.

“Sounds great.”

It hadn’t escaped your notice that no one brought up his past owners or any difficult subjects. You sigh quietly as you walk behind everyone as they went to the dining room, knowing that it was probably going to be all up to you.

***

Dinner had gone as it usually did, with only the occasional fights to break up between over-enthusiastic kids. You used the time to observe Seokjin, trying to see what you could pick up about him in a group setting like this. He was polite and charming, yes, but very quick to steer the conversation away from himself. You supposed he wasn’t ready to talk about his problems, which was fine. You had time.

He was also an enthusiastic eater and at one point seemed to have an almost mini-competition going on with the elephant hybrid over who could eat the most. You’d decided to break it up before anyone found out since the elephant was only seven and didn’t need to compete with a grown man.

Seokjin and Namjoon seemed to get on perfectly well, thank goodness. Jin treated him like a little brother - making sure his bowl was full, teasing him every time he stared at you, telling him at least five jokes about giants.

The man didn’t seem to have a shred of animosity in him at all, which would normally be a good thing. If one didn’t take into account what had happened to him. He should be upset and crying, or at least mad. Irritated. But he seemed more like he was just visiting some dear old friends, with nothing to fret about. That worried you more than anything because the poor man was probably just really good at covering it up then, and you hoped you’d be able to help him. Or that he’d even let you.

These thoughts plagued you the whole way home, as you occasionally peeked into the rear view mirror to see Jin sitting quietly with his tiny suitcase that you still hadn’t been able to bring yourself to ask about.

At least he was here with the two of you, somewhere he could be safe and have people looking out for him. That was the best you could do for now.

After you show him to a spare bedroom, he thanks you quietly, smiling with his lips but not his eyes. The door closes and you sigh, retreating to your own room to wrap yourself in Namjoon’s arms. It haunts you that something like this could happen to him if anything were to happen to you. That he would get sent back to the shelter with nothing, despite the fact that you wanted to give him the entire world. You’ll have to ask Heechul what you can do to make sure he’s safe.

***

When you wake up the next morning, it’s to the smell of meat cooking. Normally, this would be a dream come true. Unfortunately, you’ve been living with Namjoon for far too long and your mind now associated unsupervised cooking with near-death experiences, so instead your first reaction is terror.

You jump out of bed, unmindful of your state of near-undress, and run to the kitchen. Your ears are hyper tuned to every sound, waiting for bellows of pain, but so far you simply hear the slap of your bare feet against wood and sizzling from a pan.

You round the corner and grab the wall, catching your breath as you stare into the kitchen. Namjoon is sitting at the bar eating a heaping plateful of scrambled eggs and cheese, giggling as Seokjin preforms some a dirty gesture involving sausages and eggs. The Sphinx is standing over the stove with your bright pink apron, confidently cooking away, and both men are fine. You breathe a sigh of relief, slumping slightly as the tension leaves your body. Both men turn at the sound, smiling in greeting.

“Morning, baby. Jin’s making breakfast. He’s a good cook!”

“I see that. Morning, everyone,” you reply, walking in and trying not to let on how nervous you’d been. You peck Namjoon’s cheek and peek over the bar at the stove.

Jin meets your eye and smiles mischievously like he knows what you were concerned about.

“And here is one for you, madame,” he says with a flourish, setting a plate in front of you piled high with food and even garnished with a couple of tiny flowers from the garden.

“Wow,” you blurt, honestly astounded by his skill. Everything looked perfect and you couldn’t wait to dig in.

“What’s with that look?” He says loudly, quirking an eyebrow at you. “You just fell for me, didn’t you? Ah, I’m too charming.”

You laugh and take a bite, nervously peeking at Namjoon to see if he’d taken the joke too seriously. Seokjin must have magic in his food because you doubted the dragon had even heard since he was too busy shoveling food in his mouth like you’d been starving him for months.

“Slow down,” you cluck and tap his shoulder. He turns and grins at you with a disgustingly full mouth.

“Isth good,” he mumbles, and you laugh despite your disgust.

“I can see that.”

You swirl your fork around as you watch Jin settle in with his own plate, letting him get a few bites in before you strike.

“So, Joonie and I both took the day off to help you get settled in. We figured you might need to do some shopping or something. I know the bedroom is pretty bare since we were focusing on another room right now.”

Jin glances up and for a moment his gaze is troubling. You’d seen the brief flash of melancholy before he’d covered it up with a charming smile.

“I could use a few things to tide me over until I’m out of your hair, I suppose. I do have my own money, but most places around here won’t let you shop without a license.”

“That was nice of them to leave you money, They must have been good owners.”

His eyes cloud over and he glances away from you, staring at one of the windows.

“They were amazing parents. But the money that they left for me got taken away. I believe everything went to my Mom’s cousin - someone she didn’t even really know.”

“I thought you said you had money?”

“I...uhh...had some stashed away. My dad never liked banks - didn’t trust them. He always had a rule that whenever you used your card, you should take out some cash and squirrel it away just in case. So we’d always take a little out and stash it in this fake book. From the outside it looks like Crime And Punishment, and who reads that willingly?” he snorts, peeking over at Namjoon. “Besides this kid, obviously.”

Namjoon just shrugs, unbothered with the truth.

“But...Jin hyung, you mean they kept everything?”

The Sphinx sighs wearily and drops his fork, reaching up to rub his forehead.

“Everything. The cousin’s lawyer grabbed my old suitcase from storage and told me I could keep anything I could fit in there as long as he approved of it. I got some clothes, my mom’s recipe book, my dad’s favorite fishing lures, and the stash of cash because he thought it was just another book,” Jin shrugs like he’s just telling a story, never mind that the sound of your heart breaking was probably audible at this point.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” you murmur, struggling to stay calm for his sake.

He shrugs. “No big. I’m a hybrid. Should have expected it.”

“No, you should not have. People treat actual animals better than they do hybrids and it’s disgusting. I’m so very sorry. I know nothing I say can erase what’s been done to you. Just know that you are safe here and welcome in my home for as long as you like.”

Jin opens his mouth to say something but snaps it shut again like he can’t figure out what to say. Namjoon grins proudly at you and slaps Jin’s shoulder.

“Told you, hyung. She’s the best. And she’s right. You are welcome here and I can assure you that I feel no urge to fry you to a crisp.”

“I...was not aware that was a potential issue. Thanks for not ruining my beautiful face, I guess,” Seokjin says, obviously done with the serious talk and choosing to fall back into humor.

“And with that settled, I should probably go put on some pants. Thanks for the breakfast! We’ll meet up and go shopping in an hour, yeah?”

You grin at them both and leave the room, the smile dropping the moment you were sure they couldn’t see.

Poor Seokjin.

He had grown up loved and cared for by those people, and just because he was a hybrid he’d lost everything. The fact that this could easily be Namjoon’s story if you were to kick it tomorrow didn’t sit well with you, either. You needed to figure something out that could stop this from happening. Or at least figure out somewhere hybrids could go besides back into shelters. It seems like an impossible task, but one that needs doing, obviously.

As laughter filters towards you from the kitchen, you smile. One thing is for sure, your first task is going to be convincing Seokjin that he’s already home.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #namjoon x reader #bts x reader #hybrid!bts #hybrid!namjoon #hybrid!seokjin #dragon hybrid #sphinx hybrid #hybrid fanfiction #the dragon's lair #solastia

385 notes · View notes

eggytranslations · 3 years

Text

Volume 1, Chapter 1-Ambush

Content warnings: death, ableism, suicidal thoughts, mention of racism?

The whole thing happened so suddenly.

“Thump—”, a small blue and white porcelain bowl fell to the ground, rolled twice, and fractured into several small pieces. At the same time, the shiny brass bell that had been polished by time also fell from a great height, jingling twice with an especially alarming panic, and then slumped over beside the fragments.

“Shaoye…shaoye, shaoye...somebody help! Shaoye has been bitten by a snake!...”

The shrill voice cut through this early spring afternoon, a rare bright and sunny day. Very quickly, endless bustling footsteps came from the originally tranquil mountain courtyard—kick and clatter—you could even hear the sounds of these panicked footsteps knocking over things.

Shen Qingxuan widened his eyes to stare ahead, working hard, trying to get a glimpse of the beast that had bit him, but his eyes were blurred, as if they were covered by a layer of thin white gauze, so no matter how hard he tried he could not see clearly. Internally, he could not help but be stunned by the snake’s powerful venom, but also secretly think, man proposes but God disposes. He had thought of countless ways of dying, yet how could he have foreseen that he would ultimately end by a snake’s venomous fangs?

Thinking up to now, in his heart of hearts, he was not shocked, and just closed his eyes. He was vaguely aware that the servants who rushed over had moved him from the chair, and were frantically calling for the physician while yelling for someone to fetch the antidote pills.

And anything after that, he did not know at all.

The eldest young master of the Shen family was bit by a snake in his mountain villa.

This news travelled like the birds in the mountain forest had flapped their wings and carried it out themselves, taking only a cup of tea’s time before sounds of horse feet came from the originally tranquil mountain path. One after another, the horse carriage and silk sedan chair

finally arrived outside the doors of the mountain villa in a rush.

The rider on the horse and the noble in the sedan hurriedly disembarked, entered through the doors, and without anyone greeting them, burst into Shen Qingxuan’s room.

The man lay behind green gauze curtains with both eyes shut tight. His forehead was overtaken by an unclear black-purple color, that dense color was even gradually spreading throughout his whole face. His originally light colored lips became strangely flushed red from the contrast of his black-purple face. His refreshing outer appearance was completely gone. At a glance, he actually looked like three parts human and seven parts ghost already.

“Xiao Xuan!” An elder with lightly frosted temples saw Shen Qingxuan’s state and let out a low cry that was sorrowful and grieved to the utmost point. “My son!” He cried, as if he still had words to say, but could only choke.

“Laoye.” The uninvolved steward who stood to the side quickly interrupted his master’s grief, and reminded him, “Laoye should not be grieving now, the proper thing to do is to think of an idea to save shaoye’s life first.”

“Yes, yes.” Under the rush of grief for his son, Master Shen only woke up to his error through that warning, and he quickly got up with a hand over his eyes. Still choking with sobs, he asked the servant beside him: “Did you all remove the toxin yet?”

“There are always snakes, insects, rats, and ants on the mountain, therefore all the regular medicines are supplied. The antidote pills for snake venom have just been given to shaoye, but...the effects are not clear.”

“What kind of snake was it, could you see clearly?” the steward hurriedly asked.

“It was too chaotic then, this lowly servant could not see clearly. It was coiled on the pergola

in the yard, but it was also blocked by the branches. In my quick glance, I only saw a section that was as big as the mouth of a bowl…” the servant spoke and gestured, but once he finished speaking, his forehead was firmly slapped. The steward angrily said, “Glib-tongued servant, you are full of nonsense!” Ignoring the servant’s tearful complaints, the steward simply explained to Master Shen, “Laoye, Lu-mou also lived in the mountain forests as a child, but I have never heard of a snake that could grow that thick and big. Unless it is a python, but big as pythons are, they do not easily bite people, and their toxicity is even less likely to be this fierce. This servant must be speaking rubbish, he is only describing it so dreadfully so that he can be punished less.”

Master Shen was terribly upset, and could not handle this presently. He just angrily told the retainer to scram.

“Where is the bite?” The steward asked again of the servant girl who was shaking by the doorpost. She was Shen Qingxuan’s personal handmaid.

“On the wrist.” The maidservand’s face was pallid, and she anxiously added, “Since the sunshine was good today, shaoye wanted to sunbathe, so I wheeled him into the yard. As usual, shaoye wanted to drink a pot of floral tea at that moment. After making the tea for shaoye, I was going to bring some tea cakes, but just as I turned around and walked a couple steps, I heard the tea cup fall to the ground. When I turned back around, shaoye had already been bitten by the snake...” At this point, the maidservant already had tears in her eyes, and was sobbing.

“You saw that snake?”

“I saw it. That person was not lying. That snake really was as thick as the mouth of a bowl, and perched on the railing. When I saw it, it had just drawn back. I saw it was pitch-black, only its abdomen had a bit of gold. I have been on this mountain serving shaoye all these years, and saw some snakes that were beaten dead, but I have never seen such a large snake...”

“It was really that big?” The steward was still uncertain.

Her knees went soft, the girl kneeled on the ground, crying while vowing: “How would this maidservant lie about such an important matter? If there is a trace of a lie, then this maidservant shall die miserably!”

On this side of the room, the steward checked the testimony. On the other side, Master Shen suppressed his sadness to observe his son’s injuries. When he pulled out his eldest son’s wrist, he saw that the injury bitten by the snake’s fangs had already been crossed through with a knife. This helped him relax a bit, knowing a servant was quick-witted enough to promptly slit an opening and suck out the poisonous blood. But this snake venom is too aggressive; in just a short period, it caused a grown man to lose all his senses. Unfortunately, this toxin may have already entered the bloodstream, and would be difficult to clear!

Master Shen grasped that thin and pale wrist, his heart filling with sorrow. It is said that the eldest son is the pillar of his family. He did not have a son until he was 30, yet he let Shen Qingxuan fall into an ice cave at the age of eight. After the rescue and a high fever, not only did his son become mute, but his lower limbs were also damaged by the frostbite, and could only ever be paralyzed on the daybed. Master Shen originally thought it would be easy to raise and support him. There was no need for him to obtain fame and fortune; with the Shen family fortunes, there was no issue supporting the eldest son for his whole, peaceful life. However, who would have thought that at age 27, he would be bitten by a snake.

“That ruinous beast!” With a low shout, Master Shen even had thoughts to catch that snake and eat its meat raw.

“Laoye, do not worry.” The old steward, who has looked after the Shen family his whole life, yet again consoled. “Shaoye’s health has always been weak. Year in and year out, he has been rehabilitating in the mountain villa, therefore all kinds of precious medicines are more or less prepared. Maybe there is still a means.”

“What kind of means?”

“Does laoye still remember what happened during last year’s Mid-Autumn? Someone from Nanman, who had dealt business with the Shen family, gave a tribute of two pills that were said to be capable of relieving all the world’s strangest poisons?”

“I remember, I remember. I saved that medicine. ...Does it really work?”

“Laoshen does not know either, I am just told that the Nanman wetlands contain poisonous insects and wild beasts in numbers. This pill might really have miraculous effects, perhaps?”

“Then why have you not fetched it?” Master Shen stood up in a hurry.

“Aye.”

The medication was quickly retrieved, dissolved in warm water, and administered. As he was fed the medicine, Shen Qingxuan’s jaw was clenched tight, his facial muscles rigid, seemingly a hair’s breadth away from death.

The whole room was engulfed in a state of panic, and the air felt heavy.

Night fell, and the servants lit the oil lamps. Light and shadow quivered.

Shen Qingxuan’s bedroom door opened sometimes and closed sometimes, people shuffling out and in.

Yet not one person noticed, in the swaying shadow of the oil lamp, there quietly stood a man.

Black hair flowed loosely down to his waist. He was also dressed in a black robe, standing with both hands behind his back. The lapels of his robe were embroidered with gold thread into simple decorative patterns. Expression ice cold and lips pursed, he was standing there for who knows how long.

Not one person noticed, and even the people who brushed past him did not cast a glance at him. If anyone had seen him, they surely would not turn a blind eye to this man that looked like a demon on earth.

But indeed, not a single person knew his presence.

The night grew late, Master Shen was tired in both body and heart. He wanted to keep vigil by his son’s bedside, but old age ruthlessly shackled his parental affections. It was the end of February, and although spring had begun, the nights were still cold. After a few soft coughs, Master Shen faintly felt his head start to hurt. Under the steward’s encouragement, although he was loath to leave, he still went to a room warmed by charcoal fire and lay down on the bed.

In the bedroom, there were only the steward and three servants left still looking after Shen Qingxuan.

After another two double-hours passed, Shen Qingxuan, whose breathing had been shallow, gradually gained a steadier and stronger breathing sound. In the shadows, the unmoved, standing man slightly raised his eyes. His eyes showed a spark of surprise; he did not believe this world had an antidote that could actually detoxify his venom.

As expected, when he concentrated a bit to take a closer look at the gaunt and frail man lying on the bed, it dawned on him: this is the so-called rally before death.

Those antidote drugs, at most, only delayed a few threads of time. Antidote? Pure delusion.

Shen Qingxuan struggled to open his eyes. His heavy eyelids felt like they weighed a ton, no matter how he tried, he could not open them.

However, the servant girl waiting by him saw his movements, and joyfully shouted: “Shaoye, shaoye!"

Her noise had a rash joy, and woke up the small courtyard and mountain forest that just fell asleep.

Very quickly, Master Shen came over dressed in a cloak

and did not even stop to put on his socks and shoes. He frantically ran, and yelled: “Xuan’er, Xuan’er...Have you awakened, Xuan’er? Dad is worried sick...”

Perhaps the calls of his family gave Shen Qingxuan strength, his quivering eyelids worked to open, and finally they budged. His eyes were slack, taking a moment to focus until the depths of his eyes had some liveliness.

Shen Qingxuan slightly opened his mouth to speak, yet could not make a sound.

But everyone knew he said, “Dad.”

“Ah, dad is here...” the old man immediately burst into tears. Master Shen did not even care to consider how many years he spent with the stance of an elder, he shakingly grabbed his son’s hand, murmuring, “Qingxuan ah, do you feel better? If you are better, then Dad will be so relieved…”

Shen Qingxuan used all his strength, just to barely pull his rigid face into a small smile. Internally, however, he somehow knew he could not escape death this time. His whole body was entrapped in a sense of paralysis with no ability to move. Whenever he breathed, his nostrils filled with a fishy sweet scent; what’s more, in front of his eyes were bursts of pitch-black with intervals of clarity.

The sensations when one is on the brink of death are probably like this.

Actually, there was nothing to dread. For disabled people like him, death was really not as dreadful as living.

Only, he could not bear to leave his parents and younger brother.

These years, his family was the only pillar he had to support him in continuing to seek happiness in life. Everytime he thought about his parent’s pitiful grief after his passing from this world, he could not bear it in his heart.

He thought about his own death, not because he was abandoning and resigning himself to despair. These years in the wheelchair, he actually grew accustomed to this existence of not being able to take care of himself. Burying his childhood dreams of flourishing a whip and riding a horse was not a very challenging task at all.

He thought about his own death because his health was deteriorating year after year.

Before, he could occasionally bask in the sun, call someone to push him, and go for a stroll in the wooded forest.

But in the last two years, he was getting worse. Catch a little draft, and he would be ill for a period, each time more serious than the last. Eventually, it became so bad he could not get out of bed for a month or two.

This winter, he did not go outside. He barely even opened the windows.

He finally recovered, and wanted to bask a bit in the sun, yet he startled a snake that had just ended its winter hibernation and was out to bask in the sun as well.

Thinking of this, Shen Qingxuan could not help but smile, and think to himself that this sunbathing, it seems, whether for himself or the snake, was not comfortable.

He knew in his heart that the snake was just sunning itself on the railing at first, and he was sitting in his chair—man and snake minding their own business.

They could have lived harmoniously in peace and returned to their respectives homes after sunbathing.

But somehow a soiled piece of leaf just had to fall into the clear tea water. His natural disposition preferred cleanliness, so he, immediately and without another thought, threw out the bowl of hot tea.

At the time, he did not see that snake. Once he realized it was improper, the tea had already been thrown out, and had drenched those shiny black scales with steaming hot water.

The startled snake turned its head around and took a bite out of the hand he did not retract in time.

In truth though, it was more of his own fault. Such hot water, nevermind a snake, even a mere rabbit would be startled enough to retaliate.

It was a very mighty snake. He only caught one glimpse of it, then got distracted by the pain and had to look away. But Shen Qingxuan still remembered that the snake was gleaming black all over; when crouched with its head erect, its neck and abdomen gleamed golden yellow, which was particularly dazzling in the light of the afternoon sun. Later, he wanted to take a closer look, but could not see clearly anymore. He also was not sure if that snake was scalded or not.

It is said these kinds of apodal animals are completely covered with small scales, and probably are not really easily harmed by a cup of hot tea.

In front of his eyes was another moment of extremely dizzying blackness, to the point that even the sound of his father’s voice by his ear was also drifting away. Shen Qingxuan still wanted to listen hard to what his father was saying, but could only hear the beating thunder in his ears. All the disorderly fragmented sentences came through the thundering, yet were still unable to reach his mind. Shen Qingxuan only knew that his father was speaking, but no matter how hard he exerted himself, he could not hear clearly what exactly his father was saying.

Shen Qingxuan knew well enough that his life was at its limit, internally, he was not sure if he was more melancholic or more relieved. He always knew he was a person not long for this world, but the arrival of this scene still caught him off guard.

The concern in his heart made him want to have one last look at this world that had accompanied him for 20 some years. Even if he barely had the strength to breathe, Shen Qingxuan still worked hard to open his eyes wide—the scattered expression within his eyes was also stubbornly gathered back—to gaze at his family. Focusing for a protracted moment.

His father who was normally healthy and well maintained, appeared old and ragged at this moment. The old steward who had rushed about and busied himself for the Shen family his whole life, the maidservant who had already cried into a mess, all of the familiar people who had been doing their best to take care of him all of these years...his eyes slowly, almost rigidly, moved over everyone’s face, Shen Qingxuan haltingly lifted the corners of his mouth, and showed a shallow smile. As if saying goodbye.

His smile was quite faint, appearing ferocious and crude on his currently three-parts-human-seven-parts-ghost-like face.

Yet, it displayed a profound fondness for and reluctance to let go of living.

Such a despairing fondness, yet it also carried a relief towards death.

Perhaps this smile was too striking for the eyes and too startling for the heart. The cold and still man in the shadows, who had watched this entire scene from beginning to end, raised his eyelids. His pupils, which were as dark as the waters of the deep abyss, rippled from a sudden splash.

#a snake encounter #yu she #su hen #danmei #tl #eggytranslations

48 notes · View notes

protecticarus · 3 years

Note

hi i love all you're prompt fills! everytime i read them they brighten my day. could you write one where dirk wakes up in the hospital in season 1 and assumes he's back in blackwing?

hi! thank you so much, it makes me very happy to hear that! i hope this one lives up to the expectation too! x

oh and happy new year everyone!

needless to say, this one’s got me back on my regular angst train. all aboard!

possible tw: anxiety/discussion of panic attacks + descriptions of physical pain

Dirk had been woken up in many unpleasant ways during the course of his life, but this throbbing in his shoulder was new. It started off as a part of his dream, Dirk’s focus suddenly directed at the pain in his shoulder right as the Queen was about to knight him as a thank you for his heroic work. Eventually the pain became strong enough to wake him and he realized it wasn’t a dream, but a very real, very painful wound.

Before Dirk even got his eyes open, he was already swearing up a storm because of the pain in his shoulder. His colorful stream of cuss words was cut off as soon as he finally got his eyes open.

He was in what seemed to be a hospital room. Only problem was, he couldn’t for the life of him remember why. Unlike the intense pain in his shoulder, the steady beeping of the machine attached to him and the smell of chemicals was very much familiar to Dirk. Waking up in the hospital wing of Blackwing was a regular occurrence during his childhood.

As soon as the familiar beeping and smell registered in Dirk’s mind, his breath hitched. Of course. It made sense. The fresh wound, the gap in his memory, the hospital room?

It was Blackwing.

He was back.

Dirk tried to think of what the last thing he remembered was, but he knew it was a wasted effort. The drugs Blackwing used on their subjects were known to wipe out memories quite far back. Dirk knew there was a chance he’d never remember how they’d managed to capture him this time, though clearly it had included an injury to his shoulder.

The only thing keeping Dirk from going into a full blown panic attack was his shoulder, which kept getting more painful the longer he was awake. The stubborn, now sharply stinging pain kept him firmly in the realm of reality, while his erratic breathing threatnened to plunge him into a hazy state of anxiety.

“Calm down.” Dirk told himself. “Stay. Calm. It’s fine. You’ve been here before. You made it through before. Everything is fine.” He chanted, almost angrily. “Oh bollocks, it’s not fine, it’s all shit.” He added finally.

Suddenly Dirk could hear footsteps outside of his room. Even though it seemed impossible, his breathing got even more shallow and fast. Whatever little quiet moment he’d had to come to terms with his recapture was clearly coming to an end. Someone was coming and it was officially back to experiments and Project Icarus for him.

Dirk willed himself not to cry. He would not give them that satisfaction. No way would he let them know just how excruciatingly heavy his heart felt right now. They would not get to know about the panic he was currently battling to keep inside.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door finally opened and a short, dark skinned older woman walked in. Dirk didn’t recognize her, but then again, it had been several years since he was last in Blackwing.

“Ah, look who’s awake!” Said the woman.

Dirk didn’t reply. Why should he extend any sort of politeness to any employee of Blackwing.

“You okay over there? You’re breathing kinda funny.” The woman said as she walked over to the machine beeping on by Dirk’s bed.

Dirk remained silent, his eyes trained on the woman’s back as she looked at the monitor.

“How are you feeling, kid? Any pain?” She asked.

Dirk’s eyes were practically watering because of the pain in his shoulder, but he knew better than to trust anyone at Blackwing to jump at the chance to allieviate his pain.

“Oh, hun, you’re in a lot of pain aren’t you? You should’ve called for me! That’s what the button’s for!” She said and pointed at the little remote laying next to Dirk in his bed. “No matter. Let’s just get some painkillers into you, mister.”

After a few minutes Dirk couldn’t help but let out a relieved sigh as the pain finally subsided a little bit. He had half expected the woman to pretend to help him instead of actually doing it.

Since Dirk’s brain was somewhat cleared of the overwhelming pain, he felt a little braver.

“How did I end up here?” Dirk asked. It didn’t matter how they’d gotten to him, not really, the result was the same miserable life as Icarus, but he was curious nonetheless.

“Oh that handsome detective drove you up! He made sure you were in good hands before quickly taking off again. Lucky you, unlucky me, if you know what I mean.” She explained and winked.

Dirk blinked a few times. He couldn’t figure out who the woman meant by ‘that handsome detective.’ What reason did anyone in Blackwing have to pretend to be a regular detective at Blackwing?

“I’m- Uh, what exactly happened to my shoulder?” Dirk asked next.

“Oh boy, you got quite a few memories knocked out of you, huh?” The woman replied. “Well, you rolled in with two whole harpoons sticking right of ya. Wasn’t pretty, let me tell you. But no worries, you’re all fixed up now! I’m not gonna lie, it’s still gonna hurt like hell, but you’ll live.”

Dirk was beginning to wonder if he was still dreaming. Harpoons? What the hell was she t- Wait. Harpoons. The bald men. The machine. Estevez. Todd. Oh God.

“I’m... I’m not in Blackwing, am I?” Dirk asked, a flicker of hope lighting in his chest.

It was the woman’s turn to look baffled. “Honey, I don’t know what that is, but you’re at a hospital in Seattle, USA. On Earth.” She replied.

“I’m in Seattle.” Dirk repeated.

“Bingo.” Said the woman.

Dirk let out a genuine laugh, which was quickly cut off by his shoulder reminding him of his current predicament.

“You were a bit confused there, weren’t ya?” Asked the woman.

Dirk sighed. “Yes, I believe I was. I apologize for my manners, I thought... Well, it doesn’t matter. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss...?” He said.

“You can call me Nichelle, honey.” She replied warmly.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Nichelle. Thank you for the drugs.” He said.

Nichelle laughed. “My pleasure, kid. Now, let’s take a look at that shoulder of yours, shall we?”

As Nurse Nichelle - of a Seattle hospital, not Blackwing - thoroughly checked Dirk’s injury and then applied fresh bandages, Dirk found himself talking through the whole procedure. It was almost like talking kept his mind off his surroundings. He knew he wasn’t in fact in Blackwing, but if he focused on the sounds, smells and pain instead of talking, it would be too easy to forget that fact.

As soon as Nichelle left the room, Dirk felt anxiety creeping back in. He hated hospitals. The sooner he could get out of this one, the better. Of course he had no idea where he would go from here, all he knew was just that he wanted out. Sure, he had the apartment at the Ridgely but if his last conversations with Todd were anything to go by, the former bellhop would not be happy see Dirk wandering the halls of his apartment building.

Later than he would have liked, yet sooner than one might expect from a patient with two harpoon wounds in the same shoulder, Dirk was discharged. Even as he was rolled out of the hospital in a wheelchair, he kept chatting incessantly. As long as he was in the hospital, he would be on edge. Clearly the chatting wasn’t as warmly welcomed by the nurse wheeling him out as it had been by Nurse Nichelle.

As the nurse left him standing outside of the hospital, Dirk could finally feel the Blackwing related anxiety dissipate. He took a deep breath and looked at his surroundings. He felt better already.

Then he remembered everything else he had to be anxious about. Where should he go? Is there anyone he could contact that wouldn’t hang up on him? He might have not been in Blackwing after all, but were they still after him? Dirk’s head was beginning to spin again.

And then Todd showed up.

For a few hours Dirk was truly happy. He had Todd back, he had Farah and he had the plans for his detective agency - and now he had the money to make it happen too! For a while, it really seemed like Dirk’s life had gone from a nightmare to a dream in the matter of hours.

This time Dirk woke up to a pounding headache. As he struggled to force his eyes open, he was met with the sound of beeping and the smell of chemicals. When he finally managed to get his eyes to cooperate, he saw another hospital room. Except this one had one significant difference to the last one. There was no Nurse Nichelle. This time there to greet him was Hugo Friedkin.

“Wakey, wakey, Project Icarus.” Said Friedkin.

Dirk let out a shaky breath. This time there was no mistaking this room for anything other than what it was.

It was Blackwing.

He was back.

if you have any ideas for fics, send me prompts! my inbox is always open! x

#protecticarus #dirk gently #fanfiction #blackwing #angst #dghda #dirk gently’s holistic detective agency #hugo friedkin #todd brotzman #farah black #fanfic #prompt fill #project blackwing #original character #hospital #fic #my fic

34 notes · View notes

ofwolvesandbutterflies · 4 years

Text

flaneur

Pairing: Lee Donghyuck x Reader

Genre: fluff

Tags: prince!haechan, baker!reader

Warnings: nothing severe, just jealous haechannie, unedited

day 29 of 30 days with NCT

Synopsis: in which the youngest prince hates his older brothers, his responsibilities, his title... everything except his late night chats with you.

// only the best things define what you mean to me // (x)

[22:23]

“I hate Jeno. Like, Mark is okay and Taeyong’s okay, too… But it’s Jeno that I really can’t stand,” the youngest of the four princes in your kingdom groaned, pausing in his chewing to stuff another piece of some of your freshly baked bread into his mouth. “God, how is your bread so good?” An amused smirk quirked up on your lips when he released a satisfied groan. “I’m serious, Y/N. Why don’t you work in the palace? This is so much better than the stale buns they serve with every meal.”

Crimson flames reached higher in the furnace behind you, casting a fiery color all over the walls, effectively hiding your rose colored cheeks. Every time since the first time he showed, Donghyuck never failed to compliment your baked creations. And every time since the first time, his compliments never failed to send your heartbeat racing towards the same unwarranted speed. “I’m flattered you think so,” came quietly from your lips as you pulled the dough out of the rising bowl.

“No, I know so, Y/N. You have got to be the best baker in the kingdom.” A heavy set of dark brown eyes settled over your figure as you worked, punching the excess air out of the sticky mixture. While most times, you weren’t one to enjoy people’s gaze on you while you worked, the young prince was different. There was a strange glint of excitement in his deep irises, fascinated with the way your hands went about forming what was soon to be a loaf of bread. The self conscious smile on your lips grew.

“But anyways, Jeno.” A terrifying scowl marred his previously pouting lips and the way the youngest prince said his brother’s name, so heavy with bitterness and distaste… it almost made you want to dislike the male as well. You shook the thoughts out of your mind and refocused back on the task at hand. You didn’t even know the guy. “My gosh, he’s the only thing I ever hear my parents talking about. At every social event it will always be, ‘ooh, duchess of x, y, and z, count of pizza or something... may I introduce you to my son, Prince Jeno? Yes, yes, he’s awfully handsome with his stupid, perfect hair and his stupid, straight nose that never broke in a riding accident-”

“A riding accident?” A startled gasp left your lips and you nearly dropped the piece of dough you had been rolling out. “Are you alright? Was that why I didn’t see you for a fortnight last month?”

For a brief moment, all the disgust covering his face melted into embarrassment when the nobleman realized his slip up. “N-not important,” he stuttered, waving the topic away just like that. You narrowed your eyes at your friend, taking note of the light dusting of pink covering his cheeks.

“A-anyways,” he cleared his throat, swallowing another bite of bread. “Back to Jeno - oh man, this bread is beyond heavenly. I should really bring some home and make like a secret stash somewhere in my wing - all I’ll ever hear at any meal, at every meeting, every passing within a good 10 feet within my parents is, ‘Jeno won that fencing tournament’ or ‘Jeno has been learning Latin and French. Won’t you say something for us, darling? With that annoying accent you make’... it’s always ‘Jeno this’, ‘Jeno that’, and the occasional ‘Prince Donghyuck, why can’t you do the things your older brother does? That would improve your public image, don’t you think?” The rage in his eyes burned brighter than the fire in the oven and Donghyuck chomped down unnecessarily hard on the last bit of bread in front of him.

You knew the life of a prince was nowhere near perfect. From what you had heard from the youngest prince, it was anything but. As a civilian, at least you were allowed your privacy. Donghyuck didn’t even have that. That was the reason, he admitted within the first month he began to confide in you, that he snuck out of the palace to visit you so often. That and that fact he appreciated the way you looked, concentrated, at peace, and breathtaking the way you sat and listened without any judgement. With your lips locked and dough rounded into rolls, you set them aside to rise again as you took a seat across from your regular visitor.

“Like okay,” Donghyuck sighed, resting his chin in his hands. “Taeyong’s married and out in his wife’s kingdom most of the year and we just heard they’re expecting. Like ‘whooo’ great… another unfortunate child stuck in the position of royalty.”

You frowned at this. It was no secret the youngest prince hated his title, at least not to you anymore. He hated the responsibilities that came with being in line for the throne, he hated the publicity, he hated the favoritism and the constant heavy eye of criticism. All you could do was rest a gentle hand on his forearm as he continued. “Mark is at the frontlines with the rest of the soldiers because he’s the only one my dad trusted with all the militia. That, and I think his fiancee got caught cheating with her bodyguard. So it’s been just me and Jeno for a while now. But he doesn’t even try to get along with me! Like every chance he gets, he’ll rub in all his accomplishments and how mother likes him better… It’s- it’s both mortifying to be related to someone who, for one, has never tasted your bread-” the two of you shared a laugh. “-and two, doesn’t know when to be humble. Like, okay, we get it, you speak three, different languages. Well, I can say ‘fuc-”

“Donghyuck,” you giggled, offering him one of the rolls you had made earlier this morning. “You told me you wanted to work on cursing less.” A sound of acknowledgement left his lips and he took the tasty morsel from your hands, snacking greedily on it.

In the brief moment of silence, you took the time to admire the young man that had made your late nights preparing for the hustle and bustle of the day much more meaningful. Though not much older than you, the young prince truly had a way of making you comfortable. The women of your kingdom would gossip to each other while shopping about how handsome the princes were, and while you never took part in these silly conversations you certainly held many of the same sentiments. However… contrary to many, you personally thought the youngest prince was much more handsome than his older twin.

While you had only ever seen Donghyuck in the dim light of the fire, what little light danced across his features was enough to bring the deepest of blushes to your face. His skin was a much richer color than his three older brothers and his eyes - when they weren’t angry - were soft and childlike. The youngest prince had a unique voice, smoother than any honey and melodic in its own accord. His smile and his laugh was infectious, never failing to spark joy within you. And, while you had only heard of the physical well-being of his older brothers, Donghyuck was lean and muscular, much more skilled than the average commoner in the arts of self defense and swordsmanship. The wistful sigh floated gently from your tired lips.

Oh yes, the youngest prince was the most handsome out of the four.

“Y/N?” his voice brought you out of your stupor and you blinked. The prince had already finished his fourth piece of bread that evening. “You’re staring, again. What were you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” you hummed airily, rolling up your sleeves to check on the rising dough. He paused in his loud chewing to shoot you a playful glare. You knew that he knew that you weren’t telling the full truth, but still you shrugged. “Just that you’re much too kind to deserve the indigestion you’ll get in the morning from eating all this bread.”

“Oh, hush,” he snorted, rolling his eyes. “I’ve never gotten indigestion from eating /your/ bread. The bread from the palace, perhaps. But never your bread. I think I’ll be okay if I eat another-”

You smacked his outstretched hand away from the basket of day old bread off to the side. “Don’t you dare, your highness. Those are for the poor and hungry.” A childish pout appeared on his lips but he retracted his hands.

“Fine.” After another few minutes of drawing mindless doodles in the scattered flour on the table, Donghyuck looked up again. “Oh right, Y/N. I wanted to ask you something before I head home for the evening.”

“Anything, my prince.”

It seemed the young prince wrestled for a good, long moment with his thoughts as a lovely fuchsia dusted his cheeks… until finally, “I’ve been thinking about you a lot more and I was just... I wanted to know wh-what, like what would it take for me to convince you to come bake for me in the castle?”

a/n: thank youu for being patient~

272 notes · View notes

blossom-hwa · 3 years

Text

Shimmering Scales and Glittering Wings - HYUNJIN

I chose to put this one up now because Halloween is tomorrow and costumes are an essential part of Halloween >:) It also takes place in the same universe as Changbin’s drabble, though there’s only a mention of it here! Enjoy~

Unbeleafable prompt: costumes

Pairing: Hyunjin x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, mystic!au

Triggers: some cursing

Word Count: 1k

You and Hyunjin dress up as each other for Halloween. It makes for a very interesting event.

Unbeleafable Masterlist | Stray Kids Drabbles Masterlist

“Let me get this straight.” You rub your forehead. “You want me to go to the Halloween party dressed up as… you?”

Hyunjin nods, eyes large and puppy-like across the table. “It’ll be fun!”

Normally, you might be inclined to agree. Even though your boyfriend doesn’t always have the best ideas, they usually end in stomachaches from laughing too hard. But right now, you can’t see the appeal of wearing Hyunjin’s clothes – most of which are too big for you – and entering a party full of people who will see, point, and laugh at the hoodie dragging down to your thighs. And you don’t think Hyunjin would have a fun time wearing your t-shirts or dresses that are really just too small.

“Why do you think it’d be fun to wear each other’s clothes?” you finally ask.

His eyebrows furrow. “What?”

“You wanted to dress up as each other, right?” You gesture at your shirt. “My clothes are too small for you. Your clothes are too big for me. Why is that fun? Except at home.”

“Noooooooo,” Hyunjin whines, bonking his head on the table. “No, no, no. I meant you dress up as a mermaid! And I dress up as a fae!”

“… Oh.”

That makes so much more sense.

Your boyfriend pouts (and it’s stupidly adorable – you want to kiss him but it’s not the time), playing with your fingers. “Y/N, I thought you were supposed to be the smart one of us two!”

“And I am. But given our respective levels of intelligence, being smarter than either one of us isn’t difficult.” Before Hyunjin can start pouting again at that backhanded insult, you return to the subject at hand. “Hyunjin, I don’t know if you know this, but I’ve never dressed up for Halloween.”

“Yeah, I do know.” He scowls. “I saw you show up to Changbin’s girlfriend’s party every year for three years wearing your regular clothes and insisting you dressed up as ‘yourself.’ Which is why I’m changing that this year by making you a costume!”

And what are you going to do to his pouting face? Say no? You say no to a lot of things Hyunjin suggests already, just because he’s so excited that he doesn’t always think about the possible dangers to whatever his idea is (he can’t function without water on his gills for more than a few hours, a fact that he alarmingly forgets all the time). This, by contrast, is relatively foolproof and safe. So you sigh and nod. “Sure, Jinnie.”

He cheers loudly enough that several of the café customers turn and stare.

. . . . .

So here you are, standing in front of the mirror in the outfit Hyunjin designed for you, attempting to pull the pieces of cloth into their proper places.

This costume feels weird. You can’t easily move your legs with the material hugging them close together, and even though you have your wings out (it’s Halloween, okay, people will just think you’re a fairy mermaid, which is cooler than a regular mermaid anyway), their movement still feels a bit constricted with the tight top around your chest.

It’s about as realistic as your fashion major mermaid boyfriend could make, though. The fabric sparkles like his own tail (it’s even the same color – pearly white). Little patches of glitter on your neck mimic the scales that shimmer on Hyunjin’s skin, and light makeup draws your eyes out a bit more.

The amount of effort Hyunjin put into this outfit is clear from the first look. It makes you wonder how much time he put into his – what does a “typical” dark fae look like, anyway?

“Hyunjin?” you call, poking your head out of your room. “Uh, are you ready?”

There’s a crash, a thump, then a muffled, “Give me a minute!” from the bathroom.

You snort, heading out to the living room. You wonder how he finally figured out the wings. Their shimmer is very hard to replicate, as he complained to you multiple times over the past few weeks.

Quick footsteps sound down the hall and then Hyunjin himself appears. “Ta-da!”

Your jaw fucking drops.

In a flowing shirt and black pants, dark makeup obscuring his features into an elusive mask, your boyfriend looks nothing like his usual self. He looks like a dark fae born out of the pits of the earth, wings fluttering behind him dangerously, alluringly, sparkling in the dim hall light.

Oh god, the fucking wings. You don’t know how he did it. They look almost exactly like yours, just a bit plasticky and artificial.

“Do I look good?” Hyunjin finally asks. His eyes, warm and deep, look a bit uncertain at your stunned silence.

No amount of makeup could make those eyes truly deadly, you think, swallowing. But that’s fine by you. You’d like to keep your cheerful boyfriend the way he is now. You can handle the darkness.

“Yeah,” you finally breathe. “Yeah, you look… beautiful.”

Hyunjin breaks into a grin, a wide grin of pure happiness that brings a smile to your face as well. “So do you,” he says, pulling you up from the couch. His fingers, warm against your skin, send a shiver up your spine. Your own wings flutter happily. “I didn’t know I was this good of a designer, hmm?”

“Hey, stop fishing for compliments.” You laugh anyway, brushing a fallen strand of hair out of his face. “Ready to go?”

“Almost. I have rules for you first.” Hyunjin looks at you sternly. “No tricking people into giving you secrets, names, mother’s names, father’s names, siblings’ names, addresses, phone numbers, or anything that could possibly give you power over them, even if it’s strictly for entertainment purposes.”

You groan theatrically. “I can’t get drunk, Hyunjin, how the hell do you expect me to have any fun otherwise?”

“You can take videos of Eric when he gets wasted,” Hyunjin offers. “Or have a sleep-talking conversation with Felix when he inevitably passes out. I hear that’s very entertaining.” He smirks. “Also, I’m always there for you to have fun with.”

“Well, I suppose that’s true.” You pat his cheek. “But I’m only going to abide by your rules if you promise not to forget the fact that your gills will dry out after three hours, tops, and if I’m not there to dump water on your neck, you better do it yourself.”

“Deal!” Hyunjin sings, linking your elbow with his. “We’re going to be the best-looking couple at the party.”

You laugh, leaning up to peck his lips. “That, we will.”

#starryktown #inkidz #unbeleafable bingo #stray kids #skz #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin #stray kids scenarios #stray kids hyunjin scenarios #skz scenarios #fluff #mystic!au #drabble #shimmering scales and glittering wings #scriptura-delirus

56 notes · View notes

chaoticevilbean · 3 years

Text

Four In One : Chapter Three

Training went extremely well for the teens, though Shiro seemed to be slowly losing the will to live and Allura was confused at some of the more... interesting conversations that occurred. Coran wasn't there, busy keeping the ship running smoothly. Only one incident occurred, and that was when Keith underestimated how big Lance's steps were in the invisible maze and he walked right into a wall. After that, Keith was far more careful with his directions and began instructing Lance to slide his foot forward until told to stop, then move to stand in that spot.

Allura called for a break somewhere after Lance won his fourteenth game of lasertag, which was being used as "long-range training". Pidge told Shiro that it was really just a game of "see how long it takes for Lance to find you" after his third win in twelve doboshes. Apparently, flying made you an easy target, but so was having wings out at all, and hiding in one place made it easier for Lance to aim, but moving around made you stand out. The last game, Shiro was out in twenty-six ticks for taking to the skies and trying to shoot everyone down as fast as possible (Lance technically got the shot, but Shiro was out of it for a few doboshes because of the four lasers that hit his chest). Pidge snuck up on Hunk and hit him, but Lance had been scoping his best friend out as well and seen her, and took his opportunity to strike after she shot. Keith almost won, but Lance was actually just luring him in. The emo was supposedly too loud.

"Time for lunch, pala-"

"Lance, drop the gun! I will tase you!" Pidge interrupted Allura in order to rush out of the training room, with Hunk and Keith in tow. Space Dad™ was once again sacrificed for the greater good, otherwise known as the teens' benefit. Allura ignored Shiro's pleas for help and Lance, who was bearing down on his prey with a slightly manic grin in place, instead making a beeline for the kitchen.

Lance strolled in ten doboshes late, whistling a tune as he made himself a plate of pink and orange food goo that looked like bunch of Twixx yogurt. Shiro limped in after him a few ticks later, a haunted look in his eyes. The other humans ignored him, continuing to discuss where the f-bombs would go if they were used in the Lord of the Rings series, Extended Edition. Coran seemed intrigued as to what the story was about, especially since Alteans apparently are just like Elves. Allura was looking between Lance, who had joined in the conversation as soon as he sat down; Shiro, who was eating seemingly out of habit alone; and the rest of them, who were acting as if this was all normal.

Just to be clear, it wasn't.

Lunch came and went rather quickly, though Shiro took his time to finish, knowing that as soon as the group went to the training room, they would finish long-range practice. AKA Lance's dominion. AKA the time to say your prayers, write your will and die. But Coran's stern gaze kept him from taking too long, so the team was back in the hallways in under a varga.

"Alright," Shiro called out as soon as the final game ended. Pidge looked at him from where she had collapsed dramatically on the floor, relieved that they were done. Hunk and Keith both audibly sighed from their own 'death' spots, Lance's gun still trained on Hunk's chest. "Since we seem to be getting better, it's time for close-range fighting. Grab your weapons and we'll get the ring set up. Don't forget your new armor."

The teens rushed to grab their new weapons, those that had them. Coran had adjusted their armor's settings so they could switch to outfits that better fit close-range combat. With glee, each kid pressed the buttons to change.

Keith's armor became light, scale-like plates, layered on his shoulders and chest and back. His legs had similar plating but with smaller pieces. Armguards spread from just below his wrists to just before his elbows, scale-looking as well, but elongated and with more pointed ends near his elbows. His wrist guards connected to fingerless gloves and the armguards with more flexible material, something a bit like leather. The boots were sturdy, with thick soles and protected toes. All of the materials were colored to accentuate Keith's red-hued wings and were smooth despite the plating.

Hunk's armor was much thicker, meant for protection and strength. The chestplate was thick, covering his back, front, shoulders, and a little more on the edges. His legs were fully covered in only slightly lighter pieces, and his arms matched. The boots were thick and stocky, with grooves and near minuscule spikes to allow for better grounding. The armor looked like stone, brown except for a few gold and light brown highlights. Small spikes protruded from the shoulders, elbows and knees, an extra and probably unneeded defense.

Pidge's was far lighter than the others. Varying shades of green, made for quiet movement and small spaces, the material provided padding on the joints and chest. The gloves fit perfectly to her hands, thin enough for full movement but thick enough to give her some protection from sharp objects and heat. Her boots were padded on the sole, but as light as the rest of her armor. All of the greens were arranged in such a way it looked like the shadows of some foliage.

Shiro's armor was befitting his leadership status, black and white and gold. It looked like a modern version of what ancient knights wore on Earth, complete with a gold-embroidered black cape. The armor fit Shiro perfectly conforming to him easily despite the metallic material. A few spikes were strategically placed along his left arm, and his metal one was without any armor at all, though Pidge quickly began babbling about making an upgrade on the tech so it would match the color scheme at least.

Lance's armor was the one that gave them all pause, Pidge even stopping in her talk to stare at the change.

A cape of cerulean hung from his shoulders, attached to two straps that crossed in an X over his chest. Bands of a flexible blue metal wrapped around his biceps and forearms. Small rings of the same metal clung to his knuckles, slim-fitting. A thin material of an almost clear creamy color connected the bands and rings, patterned with small scales by light blue lines. Dark blue trousers cut off at halfway up his calves, the waistline melding seamlessly into the straps on his chest with a belt of chains sewn in to avoid jangling. No shoes formed on his feet; instead, there were bands on his ankles and toes, with the connecting fabric the same as on his arms.

"Where's your armor, Lance," Hunk asked, moving around his friend in a circle as if there would be more to the outfit when he did. Lance was just as shocked as the others, though one look at Coran's knowing smile and he could guess the reason behind his sparse clothing. Two down, five to go. Coran knows all.

"Um, Coran, are you sure this is a good idea?" Shiro looked at the Altean in concern. All of the outfits were both stylish and functional, but to those who didn't know what Lance's wings looked like, the Blue Paladin's armor was severely lacking in the functional department.

"Of course, Number One," Coran chirped, turning on his heel to swiftly walk over to the control room. "I'll start on simple simulation as a warm-up, and we'll go from there!" The words left no room for argument, and they all rushed to put on their helmets. Matching their armor patterns, Keith's was shaped to seem like a dragon's head, covering all of his head except his face. A thin transparent screen that was shaped like a small flame extended over his right eye, meant for transmissions. Hunk's helmet was similiar, though a bit thicker on the top and looked like a mass of stone and rubble mashed together. The screen was for him was shaped like a clip-art mountain. Pidge's helmet was a wreath of cording, wrapping around her forehead and clipping to her ears. The vine-like green pulled her hair out of her face, and a leaf displayed information. The back of her head had a bit more covering, 'leaves' adding protective surface area. Shiro's was as traditional as the rest of his armor, the helmet's visor was modernized with high-tech eye pieces that shined gold. Lance's helmet was more like a crown, a band of the blue metal on his arms encircling his forehead under his hairline. The scale-patterned fabric hung down in strips on either side of his eyes and all around his head, connecting with another band that Lance clipped on around his throat. A teardrop-shaped screen hung down from the top band, directly in front of his eye and looking almost like a jewel.

The simulation started quickly, a few gladiators rising from the floor. Most of them had swords, though a few had simple guns to test how well they could take down a long-range opponent via close-range attack. Shiro, Keith and Pidge had their regular weapons, while Hunk and Lance's bayards shifted the moment they switched to their armor to close-range. Hunk had a large club, meant to cater to his strength. Lance had a rapier, the blade perfectly weighted to his hands and light-weight to provide speed.

The team lunged forward instantly, taking down the gladiators with ease. The next level started once they finished, not giving them a breather. Shields were activated and deactivated as they attacked and protected each other. Lance noticed that the group was gravitating towards him as the levels passed, due to his armor, or lack thereof. As much as the sentiment was nice, he knew that they needed to stop and spread themselves out equally. He needed a plan to show them he would be okay, and when a large group of opponents rose a little ways away from the others, but close enough to him, he struck. With a large warcry, Lance charged forward, drawing the attention of everyone on the field. Ignoring the worried calls of his Space Flock, the teen cut through the gladiators, dodging their retaliating blows with his flexibility.

"Are you guys gonna fight like we did before or are you gonna keep worrying about my lack of safety? Cuz I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure I hold the record for most injuries regardless of attire!" Lance teased the others as he finished off the last two in the group, receiving only a small cut on his upper arm. He wouldn't even need a bandage. Hunk caught on first, slipping back into their normal routine easily. Pidge, Shiro and Keith promptly followed, Lance rejoining the team's formation.

Falling into the rhythm of battle was simple and effortless, and Lance found himself moving solely out of muscle memory as the robots used the Galra tactics they were programmed with.

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

Lance was nervous to finally join the Garrison. He was able to find his dorm room easily and had unpacked in a matter of minutes. Now, he simply waited for his roommate to arrive. Malosi Garrett was the other name on the little plaque, and Lance had been bored enough to translate the name. Apparently, Malosi was 'strong' in Samoan, but that told him little about the boy he was going to share a living space with. Was he called strong because he was bold, or because he was physically strong, or something else entirely?

The questions ground to a halt as the door suddenly opened, a large bag the first thing Lance saw. Right after it was a boy with a yellow headband and dark skin, broad-shouldered and tall.

"Oh, hi!" The boy hastily dropped his bags onto his bed, turning to face his roommate just as fast. "I'm Malosi Garrett! It's nice to meet you! Well, I mean we technically haven't met yet because I don't know your name, but I think this counts as meeting. Sorry if I'm rambling, you probably think I'm a dork. I'll just get to work on unpacking." Words tumbled from Malosi's mouth faster than water through a strainer. Lance was struck by how low this dude's self-confidence was and how much he reminded Lance of his brother Marco. He chuckled softly to himself, before standing and walking leisurely over to Malosi.

"Anything I can do to help, mi hermano?" Malosi looked over at him, and a beam was quick to overtake his features.

"Sure thing," he said, and that was that. The two of them finished unpacking after longer than Lance had taken, but less time than it would've taken Malosi alone. He had brought a lot of recipes and scraps of projects and medication for his anxiety. It was almost noon when they were done, and both of them decided to wait a bit before using the communal kitchen that they shared with three other rooms to make lunch.

"Thanks for helping me," Malosi told his new friend, pulling his phone out and staring at the screen, though his eyes frequently glanced back at Lance.

"No problem, mi hermano," Lance assured, using his new title for the other teen.

"But it wasn't 'no problem'," Malosi challenged. "It took a lot of time, and you didn't have to do it."

"Where's all this coming from, mi hermano?" Lance inquired. "You're definitely worth any effort, a hunk like yourself."

"I'm no hunk."

"Yes, you are. You're name is literally Strong. You have to be a hunk. It's like, the law or something." Malosi looked up from his phone in surprise.

"You translated my name?"

"I was bored, and I wanted to know what Malosi meant. But now I think I'll call you Hunk, so you know how guapo you are."

"You don't need to do that, loʻu uso," Malosi blushed.

"Too bad, Hunk. You, mi hermano, are no longer allowed to think so lowly of yourself. Confidence is key," Lance chirped to the newly dubbed Hunk. After a moment, Lance added, "What does loʻu uso mean?"

"It means mi hermano," Hunk grinned.

The two were inseparable after that, and Hunk asked Lance to groom his wings after only a week together, around the same time Iverson pulled him aside. Lance assured Hunk that his hidden wings was not distrust, but a different, private reason, and quickly suggested his roommate "groom" his hair. Hunk never pushed the subject, taking his friend's word.

Neither of the duo ever judged each other, not even when Hunk said he was going to grow his hair out so he could try braiding it, or when Lance asked his brother in all but blood to help him put on makeup. Their bond never strained or stretched, not over school breaks or when one met someone new and hung out a bit less. Pidge's presence only added to their bond as they both tried to add the other boy to their mini-flock, not that either would admit to doing so.

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

The last gladiator fell and a small bell sound rang through the arena, drawing Lance from his thoughts. Hunk was the one to swing the final blow, and Lance whooped at his best friend's success.

"¡Bien hecho, Malosi, mi hermano!" Lance crowed, dropping his rapier and jumping on Hunk's back with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, which is to say a lot. Well done, Malosi, my brother! Hunk's arms immediately came up to hold Lance's legs, now giving him a piggyback ride.

"Faʻafetai lava, loʻu uso e! Sa fai sina malie!" Hunk chuckled. Thank you, my brother! It was a little fun!

"Lo fue, ¿no? ¡Y eras muy guapo cuando aplastaste a ese robot!" It was, wasn't it? And you were very handsome when you smashed that robot!

"Anyone want to translate whatever that was?" Pidge butted in, her hand raised like she was a student in a classroom. Hunk smirked at the smaller paladin.

"Lance and I are bilingual and I taught him Samoan and he taught me Spanish, so we sometimes talk to each other in our native language. Usually we're alone, but I guess Lance got excited. Ain't that right, aulelei?"

"Yeah, lo siento, guapo." Lance rubbed his neck sheepishly, before turning to see the even more confuzzled looks of his companions. He sighed before translating. Yeah, I'm sorry, handsome.

"I congratulated Hunk, he said thank you, we said the training was kinda fun, and I told him he looked handsome. Aulelei means beautiful and guapo means handsome. We like calling each other that."

"What about Malosi?" Shiro asked. "That didn't sound like it was Spanish."

"It's not," Hunk confirmed. "My name is Malosi, whi-"

"Hold up, I thought your name was Hunk?" Keith all but cried.

"Yeah, and you thought my name was Taylor because that was my nickname in class," Lance quipped. The silence following caused him to turn once more to look at the Red Paladin, only to see him as red as his title.

"You thought his name was Taylor, didn't you?" Hunk deadpanned. Keith nodded as he stared at the ground. Shiro was attempting to hide his amusement, but Pidge didn't, instead full on cackling.

"But I guess since Lance has pretty much always called me Hunk, it makes sense that most people would think that's my real name," the Samoan continued, as though Lance wasn't currently dying of laughter on his shoulders. "Malosi is my actual name. It means 'strong' in Samoan."

"So you two call each other beautiful, handsome, strong and hunk?" Shiro clarified, brow furrowed. The duo affirmed this, before Hunk jumped back at the two Alteans that were suddenly right beside them.

"What is this Spanish?" Allura asked excitedly. "I thought humans were the only native sentient species on Earth?"

"We are," Lance spoke slowly, "but we have multiple languages because of we have multiple different cultures and countries. I'm from Cuba, so I speak Spanish as my first language, and Hunk is Samoan. The language that we all collectively use is called English, and it's the only one in the universal translator you aliens use. Hunk learned Spanish and a bit of Swedish because he likes IKEA stuff, and I also know Samoan, Italian, Korean, Japanese, Chinese, German, and I'm trying to learn Russian, Altean, and Galran. And maybe Balmeran, if I can get a communication to Shay."

"He's one of those super linguists that learn every language they can and therefore understand most people," Hunk interjected.

"I know Italian, too," Pidge huffed out, still catching her breath from the laughing she did.

"I'm Japanese."

"I know some Korean," Keith inputted, obviously trying to draw away from his younger self's mistake.

"Amazing," Allura breathed. "I didn't know humans were so diverse! And why is it you learned so many languages, Lance?"

"I learned Samoan for Hunk; Italian for Pidge; Korean for Keith; Japanese for Shiro; Chinese for the little Chinese place that's near my house in Cuba with the sweet family running it; German for my friend Sophia; Russian for Dominic, my sister's husband; Altean for Allura and Coran and so I can read some stuff in the library; Galran for Keith and missions; and Balmeran for Shay because we're trying to keep in touch." Lance ticked off the languages, seemingly unaware of the turmoil in all but the Yellow Paladin. The Cuban boy had always learned whatever he could to make his friends feel better, and Hunk had seen it firsthand when Lance had semi-successfully made a traditional dish he had heard his roommate mention when he was homesick. It wasn't the best, but it was enjoyable all the same.

The others had no experience with the Lance that learned his friend's language and made their favorite dishes as best he could and once helped Hunk figure out what his first tattoo was gonna be.

"Lance, I don't even know Galran," Keith mused, still wrapping his head around the fact that he was twice on the list and he was more Texan than Korean or Galran.

"But you're still part Galra, so I want to be prepared for when you learn it or when you need to translate something you find about your heritage."

"I'm done!" Pidge declared, walking away. "I'll be working on some coding before dinner! Come get me when Lance stops being so quiznacking good! First he finds a way to let us groom him, then he shows himself as a self-sacrificial idiot, and now he's somehow learned every language! When will it end?" Pidge kept loudly muttering to herself as she left the room. A few ticks after her absence, the team busted out laughing, Shiro and Keith leaving to shower and Hunk to start on dinner. Lance waited, gesturing for the Alteans to do so as well.

"What did you need, my boy?" Coran queried once the others were definitely out of earshot. Lance hastily closed and locked the training room doors, turning to face the advisor and princess nervously. With a deep breath, Lance pushed his wings out, spreading them just a bit. With the size of his wings, it was still easy to see all four of his wings when he stretched.

"Oh, Lance, those are beautiful," Allura gushed, calmly striding over to his side.

"They are indeed, my boy," Coran marvelled. "I don't fully understand why you would hide them."

"Well, they're impossible," Lance explained, beaming at the praise. "On Earth, some mutations are strange and not as accepted as others. Shiro's scales would be one, though it's rather small so people wouldn't make such a big deal. Pidge's and Hunk's would be considered beautiful more often than not. Keith's would definitely get people in an uproar. Wings like mine would make me an outcast in a tick. My town was accepting of me, and my family never once treated me badly, but I've heard enough stories of people with big mutations getting attacked to risk it."

"So, I take it you're planning on telling the others?"

"Yeah, and I was hoping you could help." The Alteans looked at each other, smiled, and turned back.

"How can we help?"

#voltron #wing au #lance #hunk #pidge #shiro #keith #allura #coran coran the gorgeous man #takashi shirogane #keith kogane #lance mcclain #hunk garrett #pidge gunderson #lance-centric #purple #klance

30 notes · View notes

kathyprior4200 · 3 years

Text

Haven Hotel: That’s Disengagement!

A princess with long black wavy hair walked out onto a high balcony. She wore a black undershirt with a white bow tie on top. A dark teal shirt, long white pants and white high heel shoes completed the look. Her face was pale white and teal blushes were present on her cheeks. Her eyes consisted of white pupils and dark blue sclera. Perched on her head was a black spiked crown. She was the inverted, antithesis of Charlie, the princess of Hell in a parallel world.

“For all my life, I’ve been taught that all angels have good inside them. But I know that to be a lie. Ever since Lucifer and Lilith, God’s closest angels betrayed Him… I don’t think I can believe in these flawed teachings anymore…”

The princess was Coerciona Egnam, Coercia for short. She was born and raised in Heaven…though she was not at all one would expect her to be in such a place. Self-entitled and pessimistic, nothing much could cheer her up except heavy metal music, rebelling against the rules and the occasional brawl.

“It makes sense that only a worthy few are able to be here in Heaven. Choosing them out of the sea of sinner scum. Yet ironically, even the saints and Heaven-born aren’t flawless all the time. It’s inevitable that all those imperfect beings will go to Hell. They deserve to deal with suffering and challenges. Best of all, they wouldn’t be bound by social expectations. Heck, I wouldn’t be too surprised if it were me. I do enjoy my comfortable life here, just not these restrictions.”

Her servants Pub and Chub were fat white naked cherubs with horns on their heads, small white feathery wings, and black eyes. One tested the strings on an electric guitar while the other shot out torpedoes from a small cannon.

Outside was a white clock tower standing tall against the blue sky. The numbers read 0 then changed to 365 days. Writing above the numbers read “Days until the next cleanse in Hell.”

The black Exorcists did their job in eliminating part of the demon population in 2P Hell like they did every year in the canon Hell. But at the same time each year, the Anti-Exorcists, risen white demons with white bat wings and horns, invaded 2P Heaven. They carried glowing black pitchforks and turned innocent denizens into demons. The Anti-Exorcists would carry books and tempt angels with their innermost desires. Sex, sin, self-expression, sorcery, whatever that need was. Then, once they were hooked, they were stabbed with the pitchforks, causing their wings to burn off and sending them plummeting down to Hell. Nearby families would grieve at their loss.

It was quite the entertaining show for Princess Coercia!

Coercia leaned against the marble balcony and began to sing in a low growl.

(“I’m Always Evading Shadows”)

“At the end of the journey, there’s suffering

Denying it, how often I’ve tried

But my life’s a disgrace

Just a slap in the face

And the harsh truths have all been denied”

“A sliver of despair in this world of light

I know this world’s not free of sin

I search for the good

But get misunderstood

And reality will always win”

“Why have I always been imperfect?

Lost in this brainwashed sea

I wonder if the world’s to blame

I wonder if it could be me”

“I’m always evading shadows

Trapped, drowning in the social flow

Free-will forbidden, my answers are hidden

Lying down below”

“Some people sugarcoat their speeches

I always blab out what I mean

I may be cruel but I am no fool

Things are never what they seem

Believe me”

“I’m always evading shadows

Waiting for people to awaken

In vain”

A nearby portal opened and out came the Exterminators, bloodstains over their wings and bodies and harpoons. They took off their creepy LED masks, their white angelic faces revealed. One by one, the citizens clapped and cheered. One of the Archangels with four black wings flew up to the front, his spiked halo glowing. He took off his mask, revealing a white stern face with yellow eyes and short black hair. In his utility belt were a few daggers, whips, chains and a bottle of emergency holy water.

“Another successful purge,” their leader Samael (Venom of God) praised. “You cleansed more sinners while still keeping the population in a good balance. Well done, all of you.” He cleared his throat and made a cross symbol over his heart. “For the greater good in the name of our Lord.”

The angels repeated the phrase.

“Until next year. Dismissed.” The Archangel soldiers saluted and then flew off separately to see their families. Several of the angels, having been brainwashed in their Exterminator states, shook their heads sadly at what they had done.

All around Coercia, Holy City was basked in a heavenly glow. The city was located up in the sky among the clouds, but no one had to worry about falling, even the ones without their wings out. A large church with the appearance of the Notre Dame Cathedral stood proudly in the city square, made of polished marble. Choirs and songs floated through the stained glass windows as the regular angels went in and out to pray and visit with their neighbors. A large fountain sprouted non-alcoholic wine of a golden color. It had a white statue of Mary and Jesus as a young boy at the top, both with welcoming faces.

The streets were spotless and clean. Roofs and roads were powered by the sun’s rays. The Cloud 9 supermarket had endless amounts of food for sale…no one ever had to worry about going hungry. Charity workers and volunteers worked by the dozens, passing out food and bestowing miracles for those who needed them in the lower levels of Heaven. Metatron, the highest ranking angel, was busy keeping records of human lives, deaths and the messages of God.

This version of Heaven was very similar to the Heaven in the realm next door, the one above the familiar Hell with the Hazbin Hotel. The architecture was almost the same. But unlike those angels with their blonde hair and red blushes, these angels most often had black hair and teal blushes on their pale cheeks. Like in the other Heaven, some of the bipedal angels displayed animal-like characteristics: some had heads of doves, others had swan wings and mannerisms. Many of them had fur, ears, and fluffy tails of dogs and wolves. It was the only place where dogs and cats could dance and prance together without conflict. Still a few others had faces of flowers or even objects like harps and musical instruments.

God’s Palace was the grandest place of all: it was settled at the highest point of Heaven like Mount Olympus. Only a few angels were allowed to visit there. God’s abode, the Empyrean, had an elite group of angels guarding it. Seraph angels with six fiery rainbow wings guarded the throne of God, chanting “Holy, holy, holy!” much to the annoyance to those nearby. There were rumors that in the palace gardens, the Tree of Life and the Tree of Knowledge were grown there, heavily protected.

Lucius and Lilian were Coercia’s parents, those who took the place of Lucifer and Lilith after they were banished. They were named the new king and queen of heaven (Under God and a few Archangels), thus Coercia became the princess.

Lucius had a white face, teal blushes on his cheeks and short dark hair. Lucius wore a gray suit with a dark blue bow tie and a black top hat with two white feathers attacked to the brim. Lilian’s hair was long and black, and she too had the teal blushes and typical angel features. She wore a golden halo crown and an elegant white sequined dress. Both had white wings which could turn black when they were angry or defensive.

In a nearby movie studio, Valentine the butterfly producer, Nil the TV angel and Ashen, the doll angel sat together playing a board game. Despite liking old fashioned shows and the like, they still controlled much of Heaven’s technology and media. Iris, owner of an emporium, cried as she crossed out the name of her former female colleague, Francesca.

Along the street, a red car stopped beside the sidewalk. A tall creature opened the car door and stepped out. The spider angel had a furry dark gray face and body, plus multiple slender arms: six in total. He wore tall boots, green gloves and a shirt with a teal bow-tie near the top. His shirt and sleeves had black and dark green stripes. Green dots resembling eyes were located under his eyes.

“Thank you for the ride,” said the spider angel.

“No problem, Devil Grit,” said the driver Sivart, a white furry owl guy wearing a top hat. He tipped his hat to him and drove away.

Devil Grit walked over to a vending machine and bought himself a granola bar. He then gave it to a homeless guy leaning against the wall.

He walked inside a building and onto a stage in an auditorium. His opponent was already standing nervously at his spot, a microphone rising from the ground and stopping in front of him.

Sir Anguis was the nervous white snake. He had a white face with large slightly teal eyes with white pupils. He wore a white bow tie with a blue circle in the center below his thin neck. Surrounding his face on a flap of skin were bright teal eyes against dark purple. His suit was light gray with dark purple vertical stripes. Finally, he wore a large light gray top hat with a large green moving eye in the center.

The crowd settled into their seats and the debate began.

“Those other brave do gooders will do great with helping me with my presentation. Anyone want to try?”

A couple of hands shot up. Mechanical eggs on robotic legs moved around to help out the white snake lord.

“Oh thank you, my Nestlings,” he said.

Air Anguis pushed a button and a presentation showed up on a screen titled “Heaven Economics and Invention Ideas.”

“I don’t like to fight,” Sir Anguis said, clearing his throat, “and I’m super nervous up here…”

The Nestlings rolled their eyes.

Devil Grit glared at his cowardly opponent who then yelped, “Don’t look at me like that!”

“Heaven doesn’t need any future technology,” Devil Grit argued as he stepped to his podium, “because we already have better things: friendships, food, and fun.”

Sir Anguis glanced down nervously at his note cards and read from them. “At this rate I will persuade the entire East end of Holy City by night’s beginning. Or was it day’s end? And nothing, not a single beauty in this paradise of bliss, will be able to change my mind or escape the constrictive grasp of persuasive argumentation.”

“Heaven will be ours, though it’s mine in my mind. And everybody will know the name of…”

“Scared Snake,” said a female voice.

“W-who said that?” Sir Anguis asked.

“You ready for a debate, old man?”

The voice belonged to Berri Blossom, the opposite of Cherri Bomb in Hell. She was a tall cyclops with black skin, with a single green eye with a black cross in the center. She wore a long dark green dress and white high heeled shoes. Her black skin was decorated in some areas near her shoulders with tiny teal specks. Her long hair was curly, blue at the top and black near the bottom. She pushed her thin dark rimmed glasses up to her face, looking at her organized set of notes in front of her.

She walked over beside her academic partner Devil Grit. “Why don’t you play with your tinker toys somewhere else while I go over the logistics of divine law school?” She looked professional and poised. “Seven Reasons Why Heavenly Traditions Never Fail.”

“You want to go, madam?” Sir Anguis asked, a spark of rebellion in him. He fiddled with a few gadgets before the well-dressed Nestling eggs…egged him on to continue. He flicked his hood back. “Well, let the battle for tenure and status begin!”

A neon logo appeared on the screen, saying “777 News” surrounded by a halo. The names of the news cast appeared on the bottom of the screen.

“Good afternoon, Holy City!” smiled a pale woman with short black hair, wearing a light blue dress. “I’m Catie Carejoy!”

“And I’m Ron Wrench!” said the man next to her, wearing a business suit and who had a wrench for a head.

After discussing the weather, various humane societies, and legends on Earth, Catie continued, “The debate battle is underway between inventor and coward Sir Anguis and professional economics expert Berri Blossom. Coming up next, we have an exclusive interview with the daughter of His Majesty Lucius, who’s here to discuss her brand new passion-project! All that and more after the break!”

Inside the break room, Phalla the romantic butterfly angel adjusted Coercia’s white bow tie. Nearby, a blue tinted sign read “No smoking.” Another sign read “In The Air” in large letters.

“Okay, you remember what to say?” Phalla asked Coercia.

“Yes, I’m ready,” Coercia stated.

Phalla brushed her long black hair from her face, the ends of her black hair teal. Like Vaggie in Hell, Phalla’s thick hair extended down to her legs, giving her hair the appearance of moth wings. She had a glowing green cross over her right eye and her left eye was purple with a white pupil. A teal bow was perched on top of her head. Her skin was light gray and she wore a dark gray crop top with white Xs over her breasts. She also wore leggings, her right legging striped dark green and light gray, her left legging light gray.

“Oh this is gonna be great!” Phalla squealed happily. “How about you make your speech sound more exciting?”

“Come on, Phalla, I know what I’m going to say,” Coercia answered, crossing her arms.

Phalla walked over to the pitcher of ambrosia punch on the table. Pub and Chub ate bagels from the table. Phalla got an idea. “Oh! What if you…”

“Sing a song about it?” Coercia asked, with a roll of her eyes. “I’m not going to. This is serious!” She curled her hand into a fist and brought it down on the palm of her other hand. “They won’t take me serious if I start belting out some random song. Life isn’t a musical.”

“But neither is it an emo tragedy,” Phalla pointed out. “Life is great, especially with all the cute guys around.” Her single purple eye shinned.

“Romance, bleh,” Coercia made a face and Phalla giggled.

“Hey,” Phalla brightened, pulling out a piece of paper. “I have some ideas about what you could say.” She bounced up and down. “The highlighted bits are the best parts!”

“They’re all highlighted,” Coercia replied, scanning the paper. “You call your childish drawing your ideas for me?”

“Sure!” Phalla said. “Look here.” It showed a list of different terms “sinners = winners” “Misunderstood are still good” and “demons and angels party between worlds!” Skulls were lined up at the bottom of the page: “we’re all connected by death.”

“Say, that’s actually pretty good!” Coercia said with a smile of sharp teeth.

“Thanks!” Phalla beamed.

Coercia snatched the piece of paper from her friend and tore it in half, much to her shock. “But you should know my ideas are always better.” She tossed the pieces of paper aside, gave a salute and walked out the door.

Catie waved with a smile. “Hi. I’m Catie Carejoy.” She held out her hand but Coercia didn’t take it, instead remarking, “You can put that away. I don’t touch commoners, I have standards.” Catie, looked stunned, pulling her hand back. “So this project of yours, when did you come up with this idea of creating a hotel in order to…break the law as the rumors say?”

The angel crew murmured nervously.

“I’m gonna keep this short,” Coercia said as she walked over to the desk. “You might think my idea doesn’t hold water, but that doesn’t matter to me. I’m too influential to give a flying feather about what some stuffy old news lady thinks of my proposal.”

The crowd gasped. Ron shook his head.

“Well, if you can’t take constructive criticism and be polite…”

“…and we’re live!” called a voice as a buzzer sounded.

“And we’re back!” Catie said, rushing over into her seat. “So, Carrie…”

“It’s Princess Coerciona Egnam,” said Coercia, sitting in a chair beside her and Ron Wrench.

“Sorry. So tell us about your project.”

Coercia took a deep breath. “As most of you know, I was born here in Heaven, and growing up, I’ve always tried to see the good in everything around me. But recently, I don’t believe that’s always the case. We just completed another Extermination. So many sinful souls lost but for what reason? God said in the Commandments “thou shall not kill,” yet killing random people is okay? If we can’t even trust ourselves with our actions and thoughts, is Heaven truly paradise? Not to mention that ever since Lucifer and Lilith betrayed Him, we don’t know who to really trust. Some people are given too many chances!” She pounded her fist on the desk, startling Catie.

Coercia stood up and made her way forward. “No one is truly flawless. Mistakes are made, but we get blamed for doing things we sometimes enjoy. Sex, drugs, partying, swearing, even violence. All because we don’t live up to impossible standards imposed upon us, both here and on Earth! I can’t stand idly by while the place I live is subjected to such lies and propaganda! So, I’ve been thinking…isn’t there a more liberating way to hinder forced compliance here in Heaven? Perhaps we can create an alternative way to express change through…recreation?”

The angels talked quietly amongst themselves. Phalla nodded in appreciation.

“Well I think yes,” Coercia continued. “So that’s what this project aims to achieve.” She walked back to the desk and sat down. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m opening the first of its kind, a hotel that encourages moderate amounts of so-called sin!” She spread out her arms.

The audience stared in stunned silence. Many of the adults were shaking their heads.

“Who is that girl?” asked a dragon watching from inside a soup kitchen. “What’s her deal with trying to cause more trouble for this world?”

“She’s nuts!” added another angel with an eagle’s head and wings, wearing a suit.

Coercia added nervously while still trying to keep a glare, “I figure it would serve a purpose…a place to work toward self-expression. Yay.”

Among the crowd of angels watching the news outside, a tall man with a thin pale face stood toward the back. He wore a light blue dress suit, had blue and white hair, fluffy deer-like ears, and large blue eyes. His white wings were folded behind him. He watched the program with a look of worry. A deer creature made of light appeared beside him. A sign posted on the wall showing the same man as a DJ read: “Counseling and good times with the Techno Angel!”

A camera man shook his head at Coercia. Phalla walked up to him and pleaded, “Please give her a chance.”

Coercia sighed. “Look, I know every single one of you has insecurities and issues that need not be bottled up. If you could just embrace those sides of yourselves…”

Coercia then smirked. “Maybe I’m not getting through to you.”

Phalla clapped her hands and “ooohed” in excitement as Rub and Chub got the electric guitar ready.

Coercia showed a pair of sharp white teeth and black curved horns emerged from her head. Black feathery wings sprouted from her back and an X appeared over her right eye. A harpoon appeared in her right hand and a spiked halo appeared over her head. She was in her dark angelic Exorcist form. She posed over the desk and began.

(“Inside of Every Angel is a Sinner”)

“I have a dream

I’m here to tell

About a fantastic mind-blowing hotel

One of a kind, go and yell

A great place to dwell

Catering to specific clientele”

*Guitar starts and scream vocals*

“Inside of every angel is a sinner

Inside of every do-gooder is a beast

Inside of every jolly go-lucky mentality

Is a subconscious portion we know the least”

“Resist all the rules

You’re not passive fools!

With just a little time

Down at the Hazbin Hotel!”

“So all you rescuers, priests, and heroes

Gifted athletes, jocks, and cheerios

And the sheep citizens, relief is here!

All of you angels, leaders, and stars

Traditionalists with fancy cars

And the activists on Mars

Show no fear

No taboos, no laws

Embrace your flaws

You’ll be truly free

Check in with me

It’s the right path, you’ll see”

“There’ll be no more pressure

And no more status quo

Just friendship, fun, and endless bags of dough

Establishment put to rest

You’ll be like, “Yes!”

In the tunnel of darkness you’ll go!”

“So all your hierarchies, GMOs, politics, and isms

Lectures, labor standards, and diamond studded prisms

Ancient Indian elitisms

All must die”

“All you fantasizers, artists, servers, and lords

Spoiled children, winners of awards

Imposers of chores

Face your fear!”

“Be who you are

And you’ll go so far

Our service will raise the bar

You’ll be the star

Come from near or afar at the Hazbin Hotel!

Yeah!”

“Wow,” said an angel in a top hat. “That was…alright.”

The crowd clapped half-heartedly.

Catie shook her head. “What in the Nine Levels makes you think a single denizen of Heaven would give two feathers about becoming a sinful person? You have no proof that your little experiment even works! You want people to disobey God and the rules just…because?!”

Coercia lifted up her head. “Well, we have a patron already who believes in our cause.”

“And who might that be?” Catie asked.

“Oh just someone named…Devil Grit.”

“The grumpy old spider?” asked Ron Wrench.

“He’s not old,” argued Catie. “He just acts older than he is.”

“Anyway,” said Catie to Coercia. “You couldn’t even get that guy to do something bad, even if a gun was pointed at his head.”

“Oh I beg to differ,” Coercia argued. “He’s been troubled, dirty, and having conflicted thoughts for two weeks now.”

“Breaking news!” called a voice as the screen changed to a recent debate shown in a building.

The news came on, detailing Devil Grit and his recent TED talk about the 7 Heavenly Virtues.

“Well, it looks like the one discussing the Heavenly Virtues is none other than…conservative Devil Grit! What a coincidence!”

She and Ron did a “ratings!” and jazz hands.

Corceria rolled her eyes.

“I’m sorry to say, but it looks like your plan’s departed on arrival,” said Catie. “I hope you learned a good lesson here.”

Coercia’s eyes twitched, her teeth barred. “Lesson?! I’ll teach you a lesson, bitch!” The princess and Catie fought fist and claw on the desk. Ron called for security.

After Coercia was kicked out, Phalla followed her wordlessly to the white limo. Devil Grit, Phalla, and Coercia rode back to the hotel.

Devil Grit lounged in the far seat, wearing an outfit of black with green stripes and green gloves on his four hands.

“Devil,” said Phalla with concern. “I know you were trying to do good by doing your professional speech. But could you please try not to help society in public? Now people won’t believe us when Coercia says that people are free to express their earthly desires.”

“I’m sorry Phalla,” said Devil from the other seat, “But I have a reputation to keep up. Helping the greater good is His plan for all of us. Besides, a good professional debate is a reasonable form of self-expression right?”

“Not to everyone,” said Phalla. “What about the hotel? People are thinking that you don’t care about Coercia’s project at all.”

“I do care, senorita,” said Devil. “I just don’t think it’s going to be easy to accomplish in such a short time. So many angels are fixated on tradition, myself included.”

“I do appreciate all of your help,” said Coercia, still fuming after the interview, arms crossed. “But I will make this project work, even if I have to do it myself.”

The white limo pulled up in front of the hotel, a pristine building made of glass and marble. The group got out of the car and stepped inside.

White wings made of rainbow scales posed as part of the structure on the roof. The stained glass windows by the door were decorated with apples, a tree of life, and many shades of blue and green. The sign above read “Hazbin Hotel” in big letters on the roof. Inside the lobby, a painting of Adam reaching toward God was displayed on the high ceiling. The hotel had seven floors with seven rooms on each floor. There was even a lab down in the basement which belonged to a man named Baker, the opposite of the demon fish scientist Baxter from Hell. A bowl of blue berries and blue raspberries sat on a table below a welcome banner. Phalla rested on a couch while Devil Grit munched on a granola bar.

“It’s probably a good idea to stock up some more food in this place,” said Devil Grit. “Good or bad, people always seem to be greedy when they’re hungry.”

Devil Grit pulled out a chart and went over probabilities and graphs regarding the hotel and the potential number of visitors. Coercia just sighed and walked away toward the door. She went outside and took out her cell phone, calling her mom.

“Carol cakes!” called her mother through the phone. Coercia cringed.

“Mom, I told you not to call me that! I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“Sorry, I can’t help it,” said Lilian with a giggle. “How was the interview?”

“Meh. It was alright. I proposed my idea, but nobody seemed to buy it.”

Lilian’s tone turned more serious. “Coercia, why do you insist that everyone must go down to that horrible place? Why can’t you just see the good in people?”

“Because,” Coercia said, “Everyone has flaws and they don’t realize it.”

“Yes, but that also applies to you, too. Before you get involved with the lives of others, you need to look inside and critique yourself.”

“I’m a princess. Everyone else has more flaws than I do.”

Lilian let out a long sigh. “Young lady, we’ve been through this I don’t know how many times. You have to push your selfish thoughts aside and just accept the way things are. It’s part of a higher purpose.”

“And what is this “higher purpose” anyway? To be His flock of dazed sheep, dancing around without any care in the world? To not experience ecstasy and adventure, even for just a moment?”

“That stuff is dangerous and forbidden. Thousands of souls would do anything to get up to this level of Heaven. And you just want to throw your life away?”

Coercia paused in thought. “If it means proving myself and serving Him in a way I see fit, then so be it.”

“You have delusions of what entertainment and happiness is, Carol. Sometimes, you need to take the time and appreciate the beauty that’s in front of you.”

“Other than my own refection, I don’t really see beauty in many other things. Well, heavy metal and watching battles…oh and watching sinners beg for their last breaths…”

“You have a lot to learn, dear daughter,” Lilian replied. “I’ll leave you alone to think about it.”

“Whatever.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

Coercia hung up and went back inside, shutting the door behind her. She leaned against the door frame, closing her eyes in frustration…trying to hold back a stream of tears from the stress.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Two knocks, four ones, then a last one. Coercia turned around with a sigh to answer it. She swung the stained glass door open. From outside stood a tall slender man with a pale light gray face, wearing a light blue pinstriped dress coat. A white upward cross was part of the design on his light blue undershirt. He was carrying a modern microphone atop a staff in his left hand. His small antlers were white and his hair and deer ears were blue with white tips. A monocle rested under his left eye. Coercia narrowed her eyes.

“Hi, excuse me…” he spoke quietly. “Is this…”

Coercia angrily slammed the door in his face.

She opened it again.

“…the right address?” finished the man.

“No!” she shouted, slamming it again.

“Hey Phalla!” called Coercia.

“What?” her friend asked.

“The crybaby Deer Man is at the door!”

“What?!” she asked, blushes appearing on her cheeks.

“Who?” asked Devil Grit.

“What should I do?”

“Well…let him in!” Phalla cried, eye shining.

Coercia rolled her eyes and scoffed. She sighed and opened the door again.

“May I talk now?” the man asked in a radio voice.

“Sure, whatever,” Coercia said.

The man held out a white gloved four-fingered hand. “Rotsala, it’s a pleasure to meet you, miss.” He walked in. Worry was etched on his face. “I saw your interview on the picture show and I was worried sick! I was afraid you were never coming back after your argument. Why I haven’t been that upset since the 1929 Stock Market Crash!” He sniffed, “So many poor orphans…”

“Hello there!” Phalla called with a smile, staring up and walking in front of him. She greeted in Spanish. “I’m so glad you’re here to help out my friend with this new hotel! I’m a big fan of yours and just being in your presence is just…” She swooned. “Oh just take me already you cute, pompous, talk show, blueberry pimp lord!”

She embraced him and he stood stunned, his face blushing. “I do love hugs,” he whispered as she stepped back. “I bet all of you would be so nice and soft after we get to know each other for a while…”

Phalla blushed while Devil Grit and Coercia made disgusted faces. “Not gonna happen, creep,” Devil Grit said.

Rotsala gave a nervous laugh, and popped a strawberry and blueberry into his mouth.

“You’re not gonna cling to us are you?” Phallas asked. “Or, you know…”

“Dear, if I wanted to screw anyone here…I would’ve done so already.”

Rotsala tilted his head. His blue eyes briefly glowed with blue upside down radio dials in them. Electricity sparked around cyan colored voodoo symbols in the air. His eyes filled with tears, tears spilling down his pale gray cheeks.

Phalla watched in bliss, while Devil and Coercia rolled their eyes at the show-off.

Rotsala shook his head and his eyes returned to normal blue.

“No, I’m here because I want to relax and help out.”

“Say what?” Coercia asked, eyebrow raised.

Rotsala held up his staff which glowed blue. He said with a sad crack in his voice, “Goodbye, is this thing off?”

He tapped it. A blue sad looking eye appeared in the center of the microphone. It spoke in a mechanical voice. “You’re silent, quiet and unclear!”

“That’s your motivation motto every day?” Devil Grit asked, crossing his four arms. “Pathetic!”

“Tragic and mysterious, I love it!” Phalla squealed. “It’s like the opposite of announcing. It’s…denouncing.”

Devil Grit elbowed her. “Hun, could you not get attracted to every other man you see? I’m your boyfriend.”

“I can’t help it, love!” she cried. “I just get so distracted easily.”

“Um…you want to help?” Coercia asked.

Rotsala appeared behind them after morphing into light.

“With…” he spoke in her growl then his normal shy sounding voice, “…this random thing you’re trying to do. This hotel. I want to help you run it, if that’s okay.”

“Uh…why?”

Rotsala choked a bit on his words. “Why doesn’t anyone do anything? Sheer absolute lethargy! I’ve been partying around and keeping busy for decades. I would like to do something more relaxing and easier.”

“My work became overwhelming, lacking focus. I’ve come to crave a new form of disengagement!”

Coercia rolled her eyes. “Does getting into a fist fight with a reporter count as disengagement?”

“No,” Rotsala said. “It’s violent and messy, not really my thing. Life is truly strange…reality, fantasy, true tragedy. After all the world is a grave, and the grave is a world of disengagement!”

Coercia brightened a bit. “So, does this mean you think it’s possible to taint an angel? That life is meaningless without your own self to temporarily control it.”

Rotsala sniffed and held up a hand. “Who knows? Anything’s possible. Sinning, oh the vice of humanity! I think there’s plenty left that can change such marvelous saints. But then again, the chance that was given to them was the life they lived before. The reward is this!” He spread out his arms. “According to God, there’s no undoing what is done…or at least that’s the way it should be.”

“So then, why do you want to help me if you don’t fully believe in my cause?” Coercia asked.

Rotsala turned around to look at her. “Consider it an investment in ongoing knowledge for myself and others.” He let out a small smile. “I want to watch the blessed of this world struggle to give into temptation, only to repeatedly realize and raise themselves up the golden ladder of success!” His eyes glowed blue.

“Right…” Coercia began.

“Yes indeed,” Rotsala said, both of them walking off to the side. “I see you taking risks and who better to keep you grounded than I.”

“Ah, so what’s the deal with Mr. Frown over there?” Devil Grit asked.

“Wait, you’ve never heard of him before?” Phalla asked. “You’ve been here longer than me!”

Devil shrugged his shoulders.

“The Techno Angel, one of the most complex beings Heaven as ever seen?”

“Eh, I’m not too big on people.”

Phalla sighed and leaned in close to explain.

“Decades ago, Rotsala manifested in Heaven, seemingly in one day. He began to catch the attention of overlords and archangels who had kept to themselves for centuries. That kind of attraction and magic power had never been harnessed by a mortal soul before. Then, he broadcast his adventures all throughout Heaven just so everyone could experience some joy, tragedy and emotions. Saints starting calling him the Techno Angel, (as unoriginal as that is). Many have speculated what unimaginable force enabled him to rival our world’s most ancient and constructive heroes. But one thing’s for sure: he’s an unpredictable source of silliness, a depressed spirit of mystery and a loving being of order…or disorder, the likes of which we can get involved in, especially if we want to end up aroused!”

“You done?” Devil asked. “He looks like a blueberry businessman. Or a shady con-man. Either way, you’re delusional.”

“Well, I trust him completely!”

“Do you blindly trust any man? All men?”

Phalla skipped over to Coercia. Rotsala examined a family portrait of Lucius, Lilian and a young Coercia in the center. Young Coercia wore a white dress with a turquoise top to it. Her hair was jet black, braided in black barbed wire, her cheeks had teal blushes. Her mother had long black hair and wore a fancy white dress and a round gold crown. Her father was dressed in a dress suit of white and blue, with blue and black stripes in the center below a white bow tie. He wore a large light gray top hat with a dove and a green apple on it. His cane also had a green apple on the top. Both of them were smiling, showing rows of sharp teeth, white wings folded behind them.

“Coercia, listen to me, you can believe this dreamer. He isn’t just a sad face. He’s a miracle maker, pure good! But… don’t count on him to believe in your cause. He could be tainted and rebel, but we don’t know that. He could very well side with God and your parents. And he’s most likely looking for a way to hinder everything we’re trying to do if it means following God’s rules. But still, give him a chance. He’s really sweet.”

“I…” Coercia began. “…we don’t know that. Look, he’s a crying bitch, and he probably doesn’t want to change.”

Phalla put her hands on her friend’s shoulders.

“The whole point of your hotel is to give people a chance! To have faith things will be better and people can embrace their flaws, their true selves! How can you turn someone away? You can’t. It goes against everything you’re trying to do. Everything you believe in.”

Coercia looked downcast. Her friend had a good point. She hated when people made good arguments against her. But it also gave her a chance to consider her thoughts. Phalla kept her grounded and added some cheer to her overall fake afterlife. Coercia smiled at her.

“You take care of yourself,” she said to Phalla.

“Coercia,” warned Phalla, “Unless you are serious about responsibility, do not make a promise with him!”

Demons often made deals with each other that often resulted in gaining power at the cost of one’s soul or freedom. Usually the one who initiated the deal would gain advantage. A demonic deal was bad in and of itself. Breaking an angelic promise could result in rejection, eternal torture and damnation.

“Don’t worry,” said Coercia. “I learned one thing from my dad.” She mimicked his low voice, “Ya don’t break trust with other angels!”

Coercia marched over to the Techno Angel.

“Ok Mr. Rot... You’re prissy as fuck, and you clearly see what I’m trying to do here is a too-dangerous risk. But I don’t.”

Glowing blue symbols briefly appeared around a concerned Rotsala, then vanished.

Coercia continued. “I think everyone deserves a chance to prove they can be themselves. After all, it’s in their nature and the sooner they realize it, the better. So, I’m taking your offer to help. On the condition there be no lessons or lovey-dovey speeches made.”

Rotsala twirled his cane and held out his smallest finger from his right hand.

“So, it’s a promise, then?”

The room was surrounded by a pink aura as light spirits roamed around the walls. The wind blew against Phalla’s and Devil’s faces.

“Nope!” Coercia yelled, holding out her hands. The energy stopped. “No shaking, no promises! I…hmmm…”

She paused in thought.

“As Princess of Heaven and heir to the throne, I hereby order that you help out with this hotel for as long as you desire.”

A moment of pause…

“Sound fair?”

“Fair enough,” Rotsala said with a slump of his shoulders and walked on. His cane vanished.

Rotsala stopped and spotted Phalla to the side.

Phalla went up and tickled him under the chin, much to his shock.

“Smile, deer man!” she said.

Rotsala walked on, speechless.

“So…where is your hotel staff?” Rotsala asked Coercia.

“Uh well,” Coercia began. Rotsala peered at Phalla through his monocle below his left eye.

He stuttered. “You’re going to n-need more than that.”

Rotsala walked over to Devil Grit, who was sitting on a stool.

“And what can I do, my business fellow?” asked Rotsala walking over to the dark furred spider, blushing.

“You can suck a dick,” Devil retorted in a grumpy tone.

“AH! Ok,” said Rotsala, blushing and stepping back. “Can it be yours?”

“Fuck off,” Devil added, pulling out a long knife from his belt.

Rotsala summoned his cane. “Well this just won’t do. You want others to cause trouble, yes? I suppose I can cash in a few favors to deaden things up!”

He snapped his fingers and the wall beside the fireplace cracked. The circle went dark, the fire going out. Ice cold water appeared to fill in the circle and a shadowy figure solely formed inside. Rotsala walked over and removed the dripping figure from the water. A large single purple eye was revealed.

Devil Grit, Phalla and Coercia peered at the creature. With a balloon deflating sound and a puff of white smoke, the figure was revealed.

“This little rascal is Klutzy!” Rotsala announced with a worried smile, dropping the figure.

A black-skinned short cyclops female landed on her face on the floor. She stood up with a grumpy look on her face. She wore a dark green skirt with a white stray cat off to the left side. Her arms and legs were white and stick-shaped. Several blue dots stood out from the lighter green color of her skirt. Her shirt was black with cyan paint spots off to the right. Her large eye took up much of her pale white face; it was dark blue with a white pupil. Her short hair was teal with a dark blue spot off to the left.

“I’m Klutzy,” she grumbled, clenching her fists. “It’s a waste of time to meet you. It’s been a while since I’ve seen strangers.”

Her pupil narrowed from side to side.

“Why are you all men?” she asked. “Have any women here? Or video games? Screw this place.”

She briefly picked up Coercia, then let go.

“Oh man, this place is boring!” she exclaimed. She ran over to a vase and proceeded to knock it over with her elbow. It shattered to pieces on the floor. She tossed couch cushions aside.

“It really needs a more manly touch, disorganized clutter’s more fun.” She grinned as she poured dirt from a flower pot onto the rug.

“Yes, yes, yep, yeah!” she yelled as she proceeded to break windows and knock down more stuff. Then she plopped down on a couch once the room was messy. “I’m bored. Make me some food or something.”

Phalla, Devil, and Coercia looked on in worry, Rotsala just stared off into space. “She has quite the temper sometimes.”

A cat angel was working on a Rubik’s cube with colleagues. His furry face was black, framed by white fur. His little top hat was white with a blue band across it. A big teal bow tie was under his neck, over his black furry chest framed by white fur. His wings were a brilliant blue, with black and red mathematical symbols on either side: the pi symbol, E = mc squared, signs for addition, subtraction, multiplication and division, among others. More symbols were visible within his two pointed ears. His teeth were sharp and purple and his long eyebrows were teal. His eyes were purple and sclera white. The angel placed a Rubik’s cube in front of him. “Ha!” he declared in triumph. Read ‘em and weep, boys! Full…whoa…”

He felt himself being transported in a flash of light to the hotel. Part of the science room that the cat had been in was merged with the hotel lobby…posters of the elements, the solar system and Biblical works of art.

“What in Heaven’s name is going on?

Then he brightened when he saw Rotsala. “You!”

“Ah, Core, my old friend,” Stalaro sniffed, his head briefly looking like it was in between antlers from a stuffed deer head on the wall. “You made it.”

“Glad to see you, you son of the sun!” Core said. “I just completed my Rubik’s cube after just an hour.”

The cube vanished as Rotsala looked on.

Core raced over to Rotsala and embraced him in a side hug. The deer-like man blushed. “So, what can I help you with this time?”

Rotsala blinked nervously. “C-Can we snuggle?”

Core laughed. “I mean, seriously, why’d you bring me here?”

“My friend, I’m doing some dirty work, so I took it upon myself to volunteer your services. If that’s okay?”

“You must be joking,” Core said, laughing nervously.

“I don’t think so,” he replied.

“You thought it’d be a great idea just to pull me out of nowhere? You think I’m some kind of tragic boy?”

“Maybe,” Rotsala sighed, as crying sounds came from his microphone.

“I ain’t doing no dirty work.”

Rotsala appeared behind him. “Well I figured you would be the perfect face to greet and critique the guests at this fine establishment.”

He pointed his staff off toward a stand with vegetable drinks as claps and boos sounded from his staff.

“With your grumpy cat face and love of solitude…”

Core lifted up the corners of Rotsala mouth with his paws. “Aw come on, Al, Don’t forget to smile once in a while!”

His mouth frowned once he let go.

Rotsala walked over to the stand. “Don’t worry, my friend. I can make this more interesting…if you wish.”

He conjured up a bottle of catnip with his finger.

Core stared with wide happy eyes. “What, you think you can buy me with sad eyes and some cheap catnip? Well, you can!” He purred and took the bottle with him.

Coercia, Devil, and Phalla arrived.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Phalla squealed. “Brilliant idea to have healthy drinks!”

“No!” Coercia protested. “This is supposed to be a place that encourages sin! Not some kind of, frilly, Zen, child’s play…”

Core noticed Devil Grit and slid up to him. “Hey cutie,” he flirted.

“Go screw yourself,” muttered Devil Grit.

“Only if you watch me,” Core joked. “Or more likely, Rotsala will watch you.”

Coercia leaned in close to Core. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! You are going to go insane here!” She grinned, her teeth sharp.

“We’re all mad here,” Core replied, sniffing the catnip.

Rotsala walked in, an ever-present frown on his face. “S-so, what do you think?”

Rotsala ran over to him. “This is horrible!” she spat.

“It’s amazing!” Phalla beamed.

Phalla leaned in close between Coercia and Rotsala, embracing them in a hug.

“This is going to be very disengaging,” Rotsala exclaimed. Dubstep sounds emitted from his mouth as he stared around with worry. He stepped away from Phalla. “Coercia, I can’t lose you. We can’t lose you.”

Rotsala changed his light blue suit into a dark blue funeral outfit with a matching top hat. He did the same with Coercia, Devil Grit, Core, Klutzy, and Phalla, who were all wearing black clothing from the early 1900s. Coercia wore a short tan flapper dress and a round matching ladies’ hat. She and Klutzy stared at their outfits in disgust, while Devil Grit, Core and Phalla smiled as they stared at theirs. The room changed, the walls now covered with Voodoo symbols, Christian crosses and deer antlers.

“Take it boys,” Rotsala said. Light spirits appeared and played violins, a piano, and a flute in a sad symphony.

Rotsala sang his reprise to Coercia as they did a slow dance. Coercia looked annoyed but Rotsala smiled.

(“Stalaro’s lament Reprise”)

“You’re on a mission

Your innocence fell

And it’s so dangerous but hey, I wish you well

Yes your blunt protests

Will send you straight to Hell

And I can’t bear to see you banished, or your soul up to sell”

“Don’t bring your life to an end

No matter what you say, I’m still your friend

We all have our wounds to mend

And you’re vulnerable feelings are real, don’t pretend”

“Inside of every angel is love and emotion

They have values and lasting devotion (devotion to God)

While you recruit those around

Don’t be swallowed by the ground

The authorities can retrieve you tight and bound (no turning around)”

“Here above the sky

Spread your wings and fly

They’ll spend a little time

Down at this Haven Ho…”

An explosion rattled the windows. Klutzy saw a door flying toward her face and she broke it in half with a karate chop.

The room and everyone’s clothing returned to normal.

Everyone looked outside and saw a podium in the air, held up by flying metallic eggs. A familiar snake debater appeared.

“Look who it is harboring the striped annoying opponent! We meet again, Rotsala!”

“Do I know you?” Rotsala asked.

Tears came to Anguis’ eyes. “Oh yes, you do! Watch this presentation!”

The eggs danced in the air, singing a song about Sir Anguis trying his best to rule Heaven. He read from notecards. “You all can’t compete with me. Your hotel sucks. I…shall…destroy it…with… my…”

Rotsala giggled and blushed. “Your baby weiner havor?”

Anguis looked up from his cards in anger. “Not like that, pervert!”

Rotsala snapped his fingers. A portal appeared and white tentacles shot out, knocking the podium off balance. The metal eggs knocked into Sir Anguis and he yelled, “Ow that hurt! Show mercy!”

Rotsala used a drop of his blood and the podium exploded in green smoke.

Sir Anguis emerged from the crater, arm shaking, fangs shattered. Rotsala waved a hand and the snake was healed.

“Shoot me with your ray gun,” said a metal egg beside him. Sir Anguis face-planted on the ground.

Rotsala looked on, sadly while everyone else stared, stunned.

“Anyone hungry?” Rotsala asked turning around. “Please don’t make me cook jambalaya. It’s way too spicy and it nearly killed me! I much prefer tea and sugared strawberries, oh the way they melt in my mouth… but anyway, you could say the kick brought me straight into Heaven.”

Rotsala lead the way back to the hotel, the group following him.

“Yes sir, new changes are about to take place. Now…”

Rotsala waved his finger at the lit up sign above the glass, gem-encrusted building on the roof.

The sign changed from “Hazbin Hotel” to “Haven Hotel.”

“Stay tuned.” He finished with low whimpers.

#2PHazbinHotel #heavenhotel #havenhotel #2p

10 notes · View notes

xaysnotebook · 4 years

Text

Chapter 2 - Two New Friends

Alex’s last memory was having Tasha ask why they were watching a window, then suddenly blackness and cold. They couldn’t see anything around them, their chest felt full and it was hard to breathe. All around them was darkness and silence. Silence. Something Alex had not experienced in years. There was always some noise; a thought, a voice, a noise. But here, it was almost like before, when he was still innocent.

“You find comfort in this place? Most mortals panic almost instantly, they feel trapped and go insane in moments.” Resonated a voice, deep and smooth, like a professional conman’s. Sounding both distant and close, like both a memory and person. “Strangely enough, you are able to listen, but not respond. You’re meek, not confident enough in who.. no.. what you are.” Alex was most definitely not confident when it felt like a planar entity was casually conversing with them.

Suddenly a dull purple haze crept into the nothingness in front of them, seemingly clinging to a figure. Almost humanoid, it looked like something out of a badly rendered game. The figure was tall, close to Alex’s height, with what seemed like four legs in an X pattern, a very spindly torso that couldn’t have been more than a foot across which slowly rose to a broad chest that held a single set of muscular arms and something that vaguely resembled wings. However, they were fluid, and seemed more like a collection of squid tentacles that simply held the shape of wings. The head, or what Alex could only assume was its head, was far larger than a humans, being close to thirty inches in circumference with extremely high set features, similar to how elves are described in fantasy. The only facial feature that Alex could clearly make out was a brightly glowing pair of violet eyes.

“Interesting indeed, you don’t seem afraid of my form.” It resounded, not visibly moving any mouth. “You could prove helpful, maybe even perfect to bridge the gap again.”

“Where the hell am I and what the hell are you?” Alex’s voice boomed, startling even themself, the creatures “wings” stopped their movement at the sound. “Why are you looking at me like a dog?” It felt draining to speak, and the two sentences left them feeling like they had just finished a mile sprint.

“Very interesting indeed, strong force of personality with low confidence.” It mumbled as its wings started up again, but in a slower cycle, “I will answer one question for now. We’re currently in the Abyss, the deepest part in Zentharia.” The eyes narrowed slightly, “Zentharia used to be a twin to your realm, what you refer to as Earth, but is Pateteria to my people. However, Zentharia was long forgotten by humans after the connection was severed thousands of years ago.”

Alex immediately felt like his head was swimming, he had to be on a bad trip as none of that made sense, realms? An abyss? A weird squid wing, creeper, wrestler cosplayer? Their vision began to go fuzzy and their head felt both heavy and light.

“You had better wake up now, Alex. If you stay too long, you’ll forget how to. But don’t worry, our conversation isn’t over quite yet. We can talk more when you’re stronger.” It said, beginning to dissipate.

“Alex!” cried a familiar voice.

“Tasha?” Alex croaked out. They blinked and suddenly they were in the apartment complex. They could breathe again, their vision was clear, all the noise was back. The only feeling left was a cold spot near their heart and their eyes.

“What the hell just happened to you? You had purple eyes and you were wheezing!” Tasha seemed ready to cry, which on its own would have scared Alex, but combining that with everything that had just happened, Alex was ready to either take a nice long nap or have a mental breakdown. Or both.

After about five minutes of them both freaking out, they managed to get into their apartment and lie on the couch. “Are we going crazy?” Tasha whispered.

“I don’t think so, this seems too real, plus we both are going through it.” Alex replied, still trying to figure out how to explain the weird purple squid thing.

“Well, what are we going to do about this? We can’t tell anyone, we’ll get kicked out of college, probably put in some institution.” She sounded as hopeless as Alex felt, it seemed like nothing would make any of this better.

“Well, there’s more to my side of this. I kinda talked to a, a something? An alien?” Alex began to explain the weird, vaguely humanoid looking creature and what it had said to them. Focusing heavily on the fact that there are apparently different realms, made up of things that knew of and once co-existed with humans. And they apparently knew English on top of everything.

“Dude. Maybe we should go see a psychologist. You saw a mist alien and I'm believing you.” Tasha said with a dull look in her eyes. Clearly she was trying to comprehend everything, and failing miserably.

“‘I’ve studied it for four years, unless we have some sort of combined schizophrenia, they’ll just put us in some hospital for being crazy. Or they’ll experiment on us. Or maybe even both.” Alex responded hopelessly. They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, “Never happened.”

“Never happened.” Tasha agreed. “I have to get to campus, the math final is in thirty minutes. Maybe try to take a nap.” She stood and began to collect her notes.

“Unlikely, but I’ll try my best.” Alex stood and hugged Tasha for a minute, such being uncommon as Alex didn’t like physical contact very much. They often made an exception for Tasha, however, she was probably the only person they could touch on a regular basis.

“It’ll be okay my little raven.” Tasha said, taking a motherly tone. She was the oldest of six siblings and was used to the idea of comforting others. “When I get back, why don’t we order Chinese food and watch movies?”

Alex felt another shift in their balance, but different than before, “Or watch old cartoons?”

5:00pm came faster than Alex expected, they spent the time relaxing on the couch. Idly playing on their phone, the door opened and Tasha slunk through. “That was awful, but I made it back alive. Mostly at least.” Tasha said as she collapsed on the chair next to Alex.

“Did you do good on it?” Alex asked, looking at her admiringly, “I wasn’t ever really that great at math, you’re seriously good at it.”

“I think I did alright. Some parts of it were actually difficult, but my professor said that I would easily get my degree this year.” Tasha rambled on for a few minutes. Alex just watched her talk and waited for her to finish, “Jan was actually useless in finishing her part, I’ve been talking too long, what did you do while I was gone?”

“Just layed here on my phone, waiting for you to get back. I took a nap and watched tv.” Alex had actually taken a quick nap on the couch after watching cartoons, but was feeling a bit embarrassed by it, “You said we could get food and watch movies, is that still okay?”

“Of course it is. I’ll get the menu pulled up on my phone and you can pick out what we watch tonight. Do you want me to just get your favorite or do you want something different?” Tasha said, looking up from her phone, her tone very soothing.

“I’ll just take my normal, what kind of movie do you want?” As they were scrolling through the movies available. No response came, “Tasha?” Alex said as they looked over and choked back a scream, as Tasha’s had turned a pale color and her eyes had turned a bright golden color.

Tasha was extremely warm, like her lungs were filled with a cool fire. Her breathing was harsh and hot, her eyes were watering. All around her, she saw gold and orange. No one was around, but there was a distant sound of music and laughter. It seemed like she was going to explode in a flash of heat, but it was also comforting in a strange way.

“Terribly sorry it took so long to get here my dear, I was held up with some other matters.” A feminine voice said from behind her. Turning around, Tasha saw something both perfect and disgusting.

This creature that stood in front of her was at least a foot taller than, nearly the same size as Alex. Alex! She realized that he had partially switched out, and that they shouldn’t be alone for too long.

“Relax darling, they will be okay. You’ll be back soon to be with them again.” The figure said, its mouth open but not moving with the words. As it stood there, it looked mostly human; two arms, two legs and one head. However, it clearly had far too many eyes. It also had something that seemed like a set of wings, almost birdlike covered in feathers but with strange patches of skin-like material, almost like scar tissue.

“Where am I and who are you?” Tasha questioned through gritted teeth, feeling like she was talking through a campfire’s heat, her voice very warbled and unsteady.

“Well, my dear, I am Vesril, and we’re in a realm called Zentharia. Specifically, we’re at the top of what you would call a mountain, close to the peak where my family resides. This place is called Summoner’s Perch.”

Thankfully, Tasha was great at storing information quickly. Mentally rotating everything Vesril was saying, trying to decode and comprehend it. “How did I get here? How do I get back?” Tasha questioned, starting to get her voice to obey her again, “I want to leave, now.”

“You can leave whenever you would like to, child. All you have to do is ask and I will send you back. But you may want to hear what I have to say about your friend, Alex.”

Tasha was taken aback, anger and fear starting to bubble inside her, “What about them? Don’t you dare lay even a finger on my little Raven.” Her voice was instantly like steel, her eyes narrowed and burned at the thought of Alex being hurt. Just like any other time she began to get angry, it felt like her hands were set on a stove, burning hot.

“Ah, you’re further along than they are, that can be a good thing.” Vesril mumbled to themself. It made a sound like it cleared its throat before it spoke again. “Alex, as I’m sure you know, was contacted by another entity from Zentharia. I want you to make sure they stay far away from them. Alex is far too valuable to be in the hands of someone like him.”

“What do you mean ‘too valuable’.” Tasha was furious at this point, the idea of Alex being used by whatever this creature was was pushing her past her limit. Her fingers felt like they were wreathed in white-hot flames, but it wasn’t painful. “I swear, you had better stay away from Alex!”

Darling, I’m only trying to help the both of you. You both have extreme potential that would be wasted with those creatures.” The creature started to sound worried and angry.

“What are they then, if they’re so awful?”

“I can’t tell you that yet dear.”

Tasha snapped, she lunged at Vesril, faster than she had ever thought was possible, grabbing Vesril by the throat. “You stay away from me and Alex! We dont need some freak of a creature talking nonsense to us!” Her grip tightened even further, the burning feeling was gone, but her hands were still warm. Stealing a quick glance down, she was terrified, as her hand was cloaked in a dark blue flame. She looked back up, forgetting her panic, “Take me home. Now!”

“Very well.” Vesril choked out with a gasp, and suddenly Tasha had Alex’s neck in her hand.

#novel #art #my writing #writing #DID #nonbinary

35 notes · View notes

redevenir · 3 years

Text

lonely are the brave

wc : almost 3k

a/n : @exolssecretsanta here it is, my present for @mmmhs, as a part of the #exolssecretsanta2020 it’s me ! your secret santa ! hopefully you’ll have a good time reading this ! Also The plot is entirely based on the movie The Spy, which is about the life of Sonja Wigert, and I strongly encourage you to read about her after you read this fic (so you won’t get spoiled) because it is incredible and she deserves to be remembered. And the title is from the 1962 Kirk Douglas movie, based on Edward Abbey’s The Brave Cowboy. It’s an excellent movie, and probably a very, very good book. The settings are very different but the title fitted too well. Merry Christmas, I wish you the very best. More importantly I think I wish for 2021 to be exactly what you need it to be.

As the entire theater bursts into applaudes, Kyungsoo thinks you might just be what he needs. Even in shades of gray on the big screen, your magnetism is undeniable. He claps a few times as you deserve it, and since his every move are being watched, it’s a quick way of expressing his satisfaction. He leaves the movie room before anyone else has stopped cheering.

***

You can’t keep your eyes off the newspaper. The head of the new Governor occupies two thirds of the front page. You sigh. It is still hard to believe the Empire has won, once again, and this war they won in two days. It’s humiliating even for you, and they haven’t reached your country yet. They didn’t defeat you. You are no soldier, you are not general. You’re not even in the war force, and the kingdom isn’t yet at war. But there is something excrutiatingly mortifying to read the news every morning, nails painted of red, and contemplating the fall of this world as a bystander. You wonder how fast they’ll take the kingdom next. Of course, it has to be their next move. Maybe they won’t even pretend to wage a war. Maybe the Queen will just bend the knee. Your hear a soft pshh when the ash of your cigar falls into your cup of tea. You hear your name, and a croissant is thrown your way.

« So ? What do you think ? He looks weird, right ? I mean, weird for the job ? Chanyeol gently taps the face of the Governor with his own croissant. I mean, he looks all… He gesture vaguely, throwing crumbles your way. It’s always harder for him to find his words in the morning. You guess it’s because it takes him some time to be properly awake.

Intellectual ?

Yes ! He smiles but his eyes are cold and mocking. They usually come all… He tries to sit straighter and extand his shoulders to show you what he means.

Bulked up and ready to kill you with their bare hands ? His mouth full, he nods and claps his hands once in agreement. You look back at the photography. Governor Do has a stern face. Eyebrows heavy, black hair cut short, thick glasses. He does not seem very large, even in his uniform. This one, you begin, as Chanyeol stands up to empty your ruined cup of tea and fix you a new one, this one is going to make fool of us all. You drink one to that. That’s why they didn’t send an obvious brute. They think he’s going to seduce us, and win us without a kill. You put your cup down a little too hard. Fuck him.

So, what’s your plan for today ? He properly buttons up his shirt, and you eye the disappearing skin all the way. The look you send him is full of fire and decadent promises. Ah, don’t look at me like that now, I must go ! You avert you gaze, back to your newspaper. He catches your smile as he puts his jacket on.

I know, I know, so do I. I have an appointment with Junmyeon, I’m assuming a new movie, the musical is really exhausting, at least with movies I can have normal workdays, you dramatically sigh, the back of your hand on your forehand, as if about to die.

That’s the price of success, my dear. He bends over to kiss you as you stand up to kiss him, leaning against him. I’ll give you a reward of my own tonight if you will, he adds, and payfully smacks your butt before heading out. I love you, good luck !

***

Luck is indeed what you need when you read the invitation Junmyeon hands you. Handwritten, neat, efficient. Both personal and artificial as can be, like any good performance. The twist your stomach makes is almost enough for you to throw up. You remain silent while he scans your face. It has always been clear where Junmyeon stands : where the money lies.

So ?

What ?

Will you go ? You weigh your words carefully. When your eyes meet his, you realize Junmyeon hasn’t set his mind himself.

Why would I ? It’s just an invitation to dinner. I have no reason to go.

***

It’s exactly why you have to go. We might be at war soon, milady. It is an opportunity for us to find out more about their plans. We need you to go to Governor Do.

You keep your eyes on your reflection as you wipe your make-up off. It is only the two of you in the changing room. Most of the lights are off, except for the fairy lights. You like it better that way. It’s more intimate and peaceful. You like how the little glitters in the Christmas tinsels reflect the light, like fireflies of many colors. But what the minister is telling you is shattering you from inside, like a very slow explosion – or maybe you are about to implode and collapse on yourself. He leaves you no choice but to become a huntress in the shadows.

***

You don’t tell Chanyeol about it. You don’t know where Chanyeol stands. Him, who sleeps in your sheets, who praises you like it would save his life, who loves making romantic gestures in a most bombastic way. You don’t know where Secretary Park, from a little ambassy stands. After all, the country he comes from has already signed a pact with the Empire. They pledged immediately and before any other nation. You assume, from the way he talks about them, that he is not fond of his leaders. But what do you know. You lie awake on your bed for hours, letting your body cool down, staring at the ceiling like it might hold all the answers. You shiver, and don’t even bother to sit up to smoke. You don’t need answers, you just wish for peace of mind – it is a luxury of the past now. When Chanyeol enters, a few hours before sunset, he thinks you look worse than he does, and he joins you wordlessly, looking for the comfort in the touch of your tender skin. He doesn’t tell you about his problems, and lets the both of you zone out, bodies intertwined as one. Later, when you both wake up, he smoothers you with kisses, and the fire in your head blinds your worries away.

You don’t talk about it.

***

Chanyeol doesn’t ask you anything when you come back from your work trip. He just wonders if it went well. When you shrug and sigh in answer, he takes it upon himself to make you feel better, and his kisses have never been more delicate on your skin, and he feels like a sun, radiating warmth and life and feeding it to your tired skin. When he nibs lightly on your ribs and you ruffle his hair, you feel his smile against you. Eyes closed, you feel him moving up to your face. His voice his only a whisper, but it deep and stable when he calls your name and asks what is wrong. You keep your eyes closed but he watches your face from the side, how harshly you bite your lower lip before licking it.

I don’t think I should say it. You feel too bad to notice the restrained sigh against your ear. He pulls you closer to him, until you lie on top of him, forehead against his chest, determined to avoid his gaze. His right hand finds its way through your hair to cup the back of your head, and he assures you he understands.

I just wish I could fix it for you. He feels the shadow of your smile against his skin.

You’re doing all right, Chan.

You don’t tell him about the dinner. You don’t tell him about the indecent dress you wore, about the most light fabric it was made of. How it looked like you were naked under a waterfall. How all eyes were on you the minute you walked in, except those of the new Governor. You keep to yourself the way they pierced right through you, and how enthousiastic he was to talk with you. You don’t tell him about the evening you spent discussing movie and literature with a war lord, and you try to forget his lingering hand on the small of your back when you left, and his offer to do this again, since having you among the company was a delight. You push down the half hidden threats whispered in your ear during the dance and pretend it was all a dream.

It doesn’t work.

You stop dreaming.

***

It becomes regular. Every few weeks you’re invited west of the border. First for evenings. Then for several days. Kyungsoo, as he insists you call him, lets you an entire wing of his mansion, to use as you please. You have no use to it. You don’t dare to ask him who were the previous owners of the place. Or where they are now.

It is lovely though. Decorated with a keen eye, even if it is a bit old fashioned. Lots of floral patterns on the walls, as to reflect the exuberance of the gardens around the residence. He offers you all sorts of pretty things, dresses and night gowns and shawls of the finest fabric. You spend hours discussing every matter that catches your attention. He inquires your opinion about everything, and sometimes you believe it is genuine interest and not a test anymore. He takes you to walks in the woods and teaches you how to shoot – just in case. When you ask him who might threaten you, he puts his hand on you cashmere-covered waist and through it you feel his warmth. His eyes are on the same level as yours when he confesses, as he’d believe you might be his equal. You let him kiss you, a whole in the chest and your heart in the throat.

The minister of home intelligence is satisfied when you tell him the news. A sympathetic look in the eyes, he pats you on the shoulder, thanking you for your sacrifice, and urging you to keep up the good work.

***

Chanyeol watches you decrepit. He wonders why you don’t ask him about his absences. He tries to bring life back into you. He dances with you and reads with you. He makes love to you like he’s offering you his soul – he is. Since you don’t want to talk about what’s troubling you, he shares everything instead. Almost. He tells you about his childhood, about his home. About his college years and about his first love stories. He tells you about some of his colleagues, and how he hates the war. He tells you he wants to go away, when all of this will be over. To where there is music and joy. He lies naked before you, exposing himself more than ever before. Everything is yours to see, every last bit of his soul. Only one secret he keeps for himself.

***

Shades of grey don’t do you any justice, Kyungsoo decides. He dreams of glitter and colours to project, to have a more accurate image of you when you’re leagues away. For a few weeks, he toys with the idea of making you the face of Hope. You could be the Empire’s most glamorous face. When he mentions it to minister Byun, the response is thrilled, and Baekhyun assures him he’ll find the crème de la crème to work on this most ambitious project. What Kyungsoo doesn’t expect is your reluctant answer. He watches it all happen silently on your face. Conversations between the two of you often take time. You don’t think in the same langage. You rarely talk in either of your mother tongues. And you’re both quite cautious around each other. He really doesn’t want to mess this up. There is a fire in you he wants to stir up, not to put it out. There is not taming you in his mind.

When you tell him you’re not sure about meddling you’re career and your personal life, he knows he has to put a ring on it.

***

Every night you sleep at the mansion, you allow yourself one hour of rummaging in Kyungsoo’s office. The rest of it is spent imagining the face of the traitors. Or you think about the wonders of self control you’ve unfolded the day he proposed. You are a terrific actress indeed.

***

When the newspapers of both countries announce you are engaged, you understand what sacrifice you have made. You never see Chanyeol again.

***

The night you find the pictures is a relief. Even you know they’re dangerous. Every little rock on the shores of your country is there, carefully spotted. The map stored with them identifies them all. You know the next time you leave Kyungsoo will be the last.

When you give them to the Minister, you ask for a new passport. And a way out. He asks if you have any idea of who the contact might be. You say it’s someone in an ambassy. You say there’s not just one person. You say they’re everywhere. You say it’s over. You don’t mention the fact that everyone has turn their back on you. Because you’re the face of national complacency.

Maybe that’s why they come to you directly. For the first time, they come knocking to your door. You recognize them as Chanyeol’s coworkers. Jongin, Minseok. They say Kyungsoo asked them to drop by – see if you were all right. You know that’s not what he said. If there is one thing Kyungsoo values about you, and takes pride in, it’s precisely the fact that you don’t need nor want to be babied. When they see your smile, and the absence of light your eyes, they both shift their balance. Your face remain unreadable when they ask you about your former lover, and Jongin realizes why Governor Do has set his mind on you. You’re stronger than most of the people he has met – including the governor. There is no point trying to fool you, so he goes straight to the point.

Where’s Chanyeol ? So he was a traitor. Good riddance – your heart climbs his way up your throat – it’s been a long time.

I don’t know.

Are you sure, presses Minseok. Jongin’s glad the disgusted twist on your lips isn’t adressed to him. It is humilating, even in second-hand.

In case you haven’t noticed, I got engaged. I don’t know to who’s shoulder Chanyeol went crying. Jongin wonders if his past lovers speak as lowly of him as you do now. Chanyeol might be a deceiving bastard, but he was a nice guy to be around otherwise. He clears his throat.

Is there any place he might have told you of ? Where he could be now ? You hum slowly.

The lonely islands. He has a cabin there. Likes to be alone to meditate or whatever.

Could you take us there. One, two, three, you have nothing left to loose.

All right.

***

Nothing has changed. The island is still exactly the same. Every rock, every sprig of lichen. The gentle howling of the wind, caressing your cold ears, caressing your eyelids, caressing your lips as if saying, just this one more time. You bit the inside of your lower lip hard and don’t let go. You have no word to tell them. You watch them climb their way out the small boat, and head toward the wood cabin. You don’t mention there is no other boat tied up to the rocks – their time is worthless.

You come inside right after them. The amount of dust on every surface is the same as the last time you came here, only weeks ago. It feels like years and years have passed by, but it is merely an illusion of your stretched heart. You let your gaze brush over the scarce furniture, trying to put your attention on attention itself, blocking any harmful thoughts. You feel the cracks in your armour. Of what could have been. Of what you let go. Of what you gave up.

You notice the guitar, and a rush of adrenaline blows away your attemps at meditation.

He’s here.

You leave the room, aiming for the water closet. You close the door, sit down and bite your fist as hard as you can.

***

It’s you. It can only be you. Chanyeol watches you enter the room through the floor slits. You’re having a mental break down, he can tell. But he cannot make it to why you are here in the first place. You’ve never tried to talk to him since he stopped coming to you. The Governor’s fiancee. His jaw tenses. No wonder you couldn’t tell him what was wrong. How could you hide it from him he understands. How you were probably used for it by your own government tears his heart apart. If only he had told you what his business was. What he was working for – the very same thing you were fighting for. The wooden floor is only a couple centimeters’ thick, but it is far enough to keep him from touching you. How he wished he could console you know. Tell you everything will be repaired. Take you to dance and fireworks. Oh, to hesitate between the prettiest of flowers at the shop and settle for all of them. To fix you cups of tea and quick meals.

***

In the kitchen, Minseok abruptly opens a drawer.

***

For miles around, every submarine reports the explosion.

#exolssecretsanta20 #exo imagines #exo scenarios #chanyeol #d.o #pcy #dks #my writings

12 notes · View notes

ezraeuropium · 4 years

Text

SAINT BERNARD [𝙴𝙿𝙸𝚂𝙾𝙳𝙴 𝙾𝙽𝙴 — ❝𝙷𝙰𝚆𝙺𝚂❞] (one-shot series)

ACCESS MASTERLIST [HERE]

note before you read; this is basically a compilation series of one-shots that i’ll write. some requests will be from wattpad as well as here. there will be no one-shot that end up into two-shots, etc (those will be posted outside of this series). requests are open [0/10] slot are currently taken up (meaning there open), so feel free to request a character. i do have a list of prompts on my profile if you cannot think of any. i also write in second person / gender neutral reader to include everyone! enjoy!

word count: 2001 warnings: hawks commits cannibalism.

[NAME] MARRIED AN IDIOT.

it became crystal clear as they stood on the street, watching their husband bounce up and down in undeniable excitement. the two were supposed to be patrolling through their assigned district, but hawks had become distracted by one thing — chicken nuggets. one of the men that lived in the area had a different meat every day of the week, and today had been chicken nugget day.

and hawks insisted to stop.

usually [NAME] avoided going on patrol with hawks. it proved to be distracting and a liability. however, this was the rare chance that they were ever assigned the same area as their husband — they could count how many times they patrolled with one hand.

"hawks," [NAME] stressed, their eyebrow twitching in slight annoyance. "we're supposed to be working!"

their husband turned to them with a playful pout, and a mischievous look dancing in his eyes. "oh, it's just a few minutes, sweetheart!"

"it's cannibalism," they retorted, crossing their arms over their chest. "you're eating a fellow bird, and people need help." one thing [NAME] was not going to do was fall into the man's charm. "or maybe the chickens need help since it seems that's all you seem to eat."

hawks grinned, "one, it's not cannibalism unless you make it cannibalism. two, you diet does not only consist of chicken— you're on it." the blond-haired man sent a went their way.

[NAME] tried not to gang. years ago, his ridiculous flirting might have worked on them, but now it was so common it was disgusting (even though sometimes hawks had his moments). now, however, was not a good moment for their husband to reference their sex life. any other time would have been fine, but they were on the clock, and [NAME] was ready to drag the man away from the shitty meat stand. hawks could get chicken nuggets from wacdonald's on the way back home.

"i'm making it cannibalism," they pushed once more. "come on. i'm tired and do not want to deal with your childish bullshit right now."

to anyone else, this might have seemed harsh. hawks had known [NAME] since middle school, however, and knew that they were a serious person, at least when it came to work. if work wasn't in the way, [NAME] easily reminded hawks of one particular yuuei student — kaminari denki. hawks knew that his lover was one of the biggest idiots he knew, maybe more so than himself. [NAME] had — somehow — managed to light a banana on fire during breakfast one morning, and claimed that it was magic (same person did not have a fire quirk). it was easy for hawks not to take most of what his lover said to heart. he was glad that they were at least serious about being a hero.

"go work then," hawks smiled, bumping his hip playfully against theirs. "you don't need to babysit me."

[EYE COLOR] eyes stared at hawks for a solid minute before a hum of acknowledgment left [NAME]. it was true, they didn't have to babysit hawks, but rather, they didn't want to leave him for their own well-being. having an offensive quirk was not something they were lucky to have. instead, [NAME] had a defensive quirk and they worked better when paired off with someone. the quirk was called hack. it allowed [NAME] to worm themselves into anything electronic. they could see every security camera in the city with the blink of their eyes, or rather, messing with the wavelengths that they could see in the air. bigger cities in japan always held a lot of wavelengths, and luckily for [NAME], they managed to successfully prevent having a headache with activating their quirk and seeing the instant flash of different color wavelengths. it did make them sick to the stomach after a while of activation.

"don't get distracted," [NAME] reminded their husband. they leaned forward, giving the man a rare — for work — kiss on the cheek. hawks sent them a blistering white smile, and [NAME] could remember being weak for it when they were both scouted for personal hero educations. times had been hard then, especially when [NAME] started becoming interested in things that shouldn't have been important. romance was one thing they shouldn't have been focused on, and it wasn't. at least, not until they read some american woman's magazine and it sparked curiosity in their mind. it was a day of instant regret and resolution.

turning away from hawks, [NAME] made their way down the street, watching as the world around them moved in peace. peace was such a fragile word, especially when chaos could erupt at any second, or if one's mind wondered to what was happened else where in the world, then things were never at peace. the false ideology made them force a smile on their face, or at least while they were doing work. all might did things with a smile, so that was what [NAME] was going to do.

there was a small cry, and [NAME] turned their head to look for the sound. a frown was on staining their [SKIN COLOR] face, and they made their way towards the noise; the cries grew louder with every step. children were something that [NAME] did not specialize in, even if they dealt with children on a regular basis. children were so small and easy to damage, and the fear of seeing one hurt never sat well with them. so, seeing a small child sitting in the corner of a street, tucked in a ball with a pair of elegant white wings protecting them, made [NAME] worried.

walking up to the child, the pro-hero knelt down beside the kid. [NAME] put a soft, comforting smile on their face before they spoke up, careful not to scare the child. "hey, sweetie. i'm the pro-hero anon," they introduced. the child startled slightly, peaking her head out from the wings, staring at [NAME] with watery eyes. "do you know where your guardian is?" the hero pushed gently. [NAME] was careful not to say parents. there were several children who's parents have passed or abandoned them, and it was easier to use guardian as it didn't hold tight bonds, but enough so the child was in the care of another.

"nah. . . no," the smaller girl mumbled. "mama was with me, but. . . but now she's not!"

[NAME] gave a nodding of understanding. it was common for children to be separated from their guardians — sad to say. bigger cities meant bigger population, which caused a bit of discord on the streets that never seemed to stop moving. "well, how about we go find her? i'm sure she's looking for you too! you're her little angel after all, yeah?"

"mama calls me that! how'd you know!" the girl said, brightening up. [NAME] nearly laughed, amused. children were easily distracted, but the pro-hero was just glad to have the girl to stop crying. if there had been any more tears, well, [NAME] wouldn't have known what to do. as a child, [NAME] had been a bit of an overly sensitive child, but somehow, learning to care for others and their own tears was lost.

"it was a lucky guess!" really, it would have been a surprise if no one say the girl as a tiny angel. she had small wings that would grow as she did. her hair was in bouncy brown curls, and her eyes were glistening with a wet universe. the girl would breathtaking when she was older, and [NAME] wondered what greatness was in store for the small girl.

[NAME] opened up their arms for the girl to come to them. it would be easier to walk around holding the child, especially since the child would spot her mother easily if she was in [NAME]'s arms. the girl hesitated for a moment, and the pro-hero was about to put their arms down. they weren't going to make the child uncomfortable. [NAME] might have been a hero, but to the child, they were nothing but a stranger. however, the child had founder herself in the pro-hero's arms. carefully, [NAME] stood up, adjusting the tiny angel to their hip.

"can you see?"

"mhm! you're tall like mama!" so, the child's mom was tall, that helped a little bit. the woman would be around [NAME]'s height, if the child indicated a hint towards her mother's height, even if it was unintentional.

[NAME] looked through the crowd of people, before their gaze fell on the girl. "what does mama look like?"

the girl's nose scrunched up. "she's really, really pretty! she's got blond hair like a pom pom! and, and she had big black wings! mama said i got uncle's wings! they're big and white too!"

that. . . that made things a lot more easier than [NAME] thought. the large black wings helped clue her in. there weren't many people who had bird like quirks. [NAME] had only know hawks and tokoyami to have one, but that was personally. besides that, it was always people in passing, and there weren't a lot.

"wow, you're mama sounds amazing! just like you!" [NAME] cooed, their [EYE COLOR] orbs scanning the crowd. their teeth nibbled on their lower lip, before a small sequel escaped the child. "anon! anon! there's mama! she's with a man with wings, but their red! i want red wings!"

[NAME] turned around and snorted. there was a small panicked look on hawks face, but that was because the girl's mom look like since was in hysterics, which was not funny. they weaved their way through the people, [NAME] making sure to have a good grip on the girl.

"um, ma'am! is this your daughter?" the pro-hero exclaimed as they closed in on hawks and the woman. [NAME] didn't bother to take note of the to-go box in hawks hand, which was no doubt filled with chicken nuggets.

the woman let out a cry of relief. "yes! oh, adami, my little angel!"

the girl wiggled in [NAME]'s arms, and they didn't waste a moment by handing the child to her mother. the woman looked toward's name with a glossy eyed smile and thanked them. [NAME] simply waved it off, saying it was only natural that they'd help.

hawks watched the interaction for a moment before silently moving on with his lover. "i didn't know you were so good with kids."

[NAME] let out a laugh, rolling their eyes. they pulled their phone out checking the time. they had enough time to go clock out, even if hawks wasted part of this shift on chicken nuggets. "i'm not any good with them."

"so, you don't want any?"

there was a pregnant pause, and [NAME] looked at their husband. "do you?"

hawks gave a shrug, a small smile on his face. "i wouldn't mind one."

[NAME] frowned. there was one thing they couldn't do and that was produced a child. they were infertile and deleted all options of even having a child with their dna in it. "you know i can't, even if i wouldn't mind."

"[NAME]. . . we can always adopt, and it doesn't have to be now. it can be in a week, a year, or even a decade, or never. i'll stand by your choice."

their throat felt dry, and they reached to hold hawks hand. "keigo — I want to have a family, but — soon, i promise." hawks — no, keigo — leaned over and kissed his lover on the forehead, and [NAME] knew they had all the time in the world, and the ring on their finger was enough to prove that. if only keigo would stop eating his own species that is.

#bnha x reader #gender netural reader #hawks x reader #keigo takami #pro hero #mha x reader #bnha #mha #fluff #children #pro hero reader #marriage #chicken nuggests #this has cannibalism #hawks eats birds #bnha fic #hawks fic

43 notes · View notes

whispersafterdusk · 3 years

Text

Lost in Time - ch 6

"One more floor to go until Stewart, and two more skeletons to find..." Selene muttered as the elevator doors slid open. She'd seen them do this so many times she was starting to see it in her dreams, and hear that little grating noise that trailed off into a metallic squeak right as they withdrew completely into the sides of the car. She was sweaty, dirty, and her hands were cramping, but finally (after nearly two weeks!) they were approaching the All Source AI of this place.

Finally letting Petra and Merlin in had been the right choice; Eli and Selene only had to show them one time how to assemble the brackets and where to attach those wires to, and now they were working as a proper team to methodically clear each floor. It was also a nice change to have two extra pairs of hands helping carry everything (for which Selene was more grateful for Eli's sake than for her own). ((Continued below cut))

They'd tried getting to the relay box that Pauline had said had failed hundreds of years ago; Eli thought she knew approximately where it ought to be within the wall - and it made sense, being as that section of the wall seemed thicker and sturdier for several panels in each direction while also reinforced in the floor and ceiling - but none of their tools even came close to fitting the bolts that held the panels in place. Selene had used a bit of tape and shavings off a pencil to take a rough "cast" of the size and shape of the bolt's head and would have to try casting it and using it to make a mold to make a tool when she got back to her shop as not even the Research Center had anything that would come close to working either.

"Do you think 16 will be enough?" she heard Petra ask behind her.

Selene trudged out of the elevator; Petra was right on her heels wheeling along the dolly with crates full of yellow power stones all nestled into brackets and ready to go, and by 16 Petra meant 16 total brackets with 6 stones apiece in them (along with a crate of the usual blue ones they'd been using to get doors open). Selene had never seen that many of the yellow ones in one place before; it was probably every spare yellow power stone in Portia, and she couldn't imagine where Merlin and Petra had had those squirreled away or how they got that many. When they'd hooked Wendy up to a new power source they'd used a pair of massive engines but that wasn't an option down here...

Eli answered Petra before Selene could. "Maybe. I'm not sure. It likely won't give him full access to the entire facility but might be enough to get information on what happened down here. And maybe directions to a supply closet or maintenance hall that might still have something in it."

That was just one of the mysteries of this place; at some point during the evacuation it seemed that spare supplies had been taken out along with the people. They had no idea why as Eli couldn't think of a reason for the facility to have been totally abandoned in a "rush" but not so rushed that they had time to take things with them...hopefully Stewart could clear things up for them.

Speaking of Eli... Selene could tell the woman was tired but pushing herself to keep going. Would it be rude to suggest she sit and let the three of them take over this floor? It felt rude, but she also didn't want to see the woman hurt herself by over-exerting down here.

"-you take the nearest ones, Eli," she said instead. "We can start at the other end of this hallway."

Eli's response was a shrug; Petra moved the crate with the yellow stones in it off the stack and from the one under it pulled out six brackets with blue stones and left them stacked neatly for Eli before wheeling the rest of them along in Selene and Merlin's wake.

This hallway was at least devoid of the disintegrating carpet; the floor was covered with some sort of tiling that was a bit slick with dust and grime but looked to have once been white. The walls were an eggshell color along with decorative dark wooden paneling hanging at regular intervals that had flower pots (full of long-dead floral plants) mounted in their center, and the light fixtures were down-turned glass bowls instead of the previous floor's upturned scallop shapes.

Behind them she heard the distant creak and pop of a panel coming loose and knew Eli was already starting but they still hadn't found the end of this hallway, and were easily a hundred feet or more from the elevator now.

She reached up to adjust her head lamp's beam to a wider one (they'd given up on trying to keep the lights powered as it was now taking too many brackets to get them bright enough to be worth it). "At least it's a nice change of scenery?"

"It does make one wonder why this area is different," Merlin replied. "All the other halls were uniform, and now this one is far fancier."

"Perhaps it's related to the All Source being down here. This may be a sort of executive wing - where the higher ranking officials of this place had their offices," Petra offered.

"That would be logical, I suppose."

"How long does this hallway go- oh. Here it is," Selene said, coming to a slippery stop on the grimy tile as the hallway finally ended in an abrupt left turn that led into an area that was only eight feet deep; a single armchair was back here, and a very small side table, both of which were shoved against the wall to her left. On the very back wall of this little area was a very faded wall hanging with pictures of robots, humans in both regular clothing and some in long white coats like the one Dr. Xu wore, and with what once had been a very beautiful starscape in the "sky" above their heads. Along with the pretty starry sky there was decorative writing of some kind around the humans and robots, arranged in small snippets and in a script she didn't recognize.

Touching it would probably be a bad idea but boy did she want to touch it right now; what kind of fabric was it made of? It was probably dust and dry rot that had caused it to fade as it didn't look like insects had gotten at it. "Wonder what it says..." was what Selene said instead of touching it. "I don't think I've seen that kind of writing before."

"Nor have I..." Merlin mused. The older woman reached up to adjust her own headlamp to a much finer beam and leaned in until she was only a few inches away from the tapestry, eying its details. "It's well preserved, all things considered."

Selene looked up to the top of the tapestry; she thought she could just barely see a pole attached to the top of the hanging but it was mostly covered by a decorative...well, cover. It was clearly meant to hide the pole that held the tapestry up and was painted (she could see flecks of the paint falling away) to resemble the wooden paneling down here.

"Maybe we can figure out a way to get it safely down and take it out of here," Petra said quietly. She was studying the tapestry too though she seemed specifically interested in the starscape part. "I don't recognize any of these constellations."

"Artistic interpretation," came Eli's voice from directly behind them; they all jumped and turned to see the woman standing at the corner smiling at them. "I recognize that image - it's a painting by Lorenzo Raphael."

Selene looked between her and the hanging. "Is it painted on the fabric, or printed?"

"Printed. A lot of paintings got reproduced as screen printings you could buy for a fraction of the cost of the actual painting. Most artists made more money off doing that than they did actually selling their works as originals."

"What does it say?" Petra asked. "What language is it?"

Eli moved forward to stand with them. "It's Dubeian. It says "mankind once looked to the birds in the sky, and asked how. Then they learned, and asked why. Then they looked to the heavens and asked, why not." It's an incredibly pretentious way of saying mankind a long time ago questioned how and why birds fly, then we figured it out and kept going higher. Lorenzo was known for that - using a hundred words when five would've gotten the point across."

"...THAT'S Dubeian?" Selene eyed the script again; it was fancy - all loops and curves - and didn't look anything like the alphabet she knew. "How many languages were there back then?"

"Millions, probably. It's partly why Base Common - which is what we're all speaking - came into existence. We all needed a sort of centralized language so we could talk and trade with one another, and make sure all our financial, medical, or technological doodads could communicate with each other easily." The woman paused, then continued on a language Selene hadn't heard before; it was lyrical and made of mostly soft sounds such that the few hard endings and a couple of deep throat clicks seemed highly out of place. "-and usually everyone knew their native language and Base Common, bare minimum."

"How fascinating..." Merlin said, rubbing her chin as she looked the wall hanging over again. "I wonder. How many languages do you know or recognize from your time period?"

"I'm fluent in a couple and can fumble my way through a couple more beyond that."

Merlin flipped off her head lamp before turning to face Eli again. "We do have a few data discs with information on it in languages we'd never seen before. Perhaps you could translate."

"Possibly, but I can promise you there's likely nothing too important if it's not in Base Common. Might be someone's personal work or journal but don't expect to find anything ground breaking."

That had Petra giggling. "Well. Even if it's someone's favorite recipes we'd like to know what it says."

Together they turned and left the little tapestry corner; Eli had gotten the four doors on her side of the hall all wired up. Along with the change in decorations this hallway also had fewer doors that were further apart from one another than all the other floors. It made Selene think that maybe these led to hallways of their own, or else these were much, much larger rooms than all the others. They quickly got the other powered brackets into place and retreated to the end of the hallway near the elevator.

"Here goes nothing..." Selene said quietly, looking back at the others before reaching down to flip the switch on the first bracket.

There was the familiar whirring noise and a thunk before the door slid open. Clicking on her flashlight again Selene aimed it into the doorway only for the light beam to seemingly be swallowed by the dark - it hardly traveled into the room at all. She walked forward through the door and into, as she'd suspected, an enormous room compared to all the rest they'd examined so far.

"Wow..." Stepping in further Selene swept her flashlight from side to side; this room was easily fifty feet wide and maybe twice as long. Standing in clusters throughough the room was...equipment, of some kind. Interspersed between the equipment thingies were high, flat topped tables that were covered in a leather-looking fabric that was heavily cracked from age. "What was this place, I wonder..."

"Ah - I know what this is. Or at least what this room in particular is."

Selene turned around to see Eli's silhouette moving through the door. "What is it?"

"Rehab," was the woman's answer. "Physical therapy stuff."

Eli switched off the headlamp she wore and held out a hand for Selene's flashlight; Selene handed it over and followed at her elbow as she moved over toward the nearest grouping of things -- there were two parallel railings bolted to the floor, a little over a shoulder's width apart, and near it was a stationary set of 4 stairs with railings at the same angle as the stair's incline.

The carpet in here was relatively intact but felt pathetically thin under her feet. Eying the carpet under the stationary stairs drew her attention to her immediate right where there was a wide strip of...it looked like rubbery carpet, in a dark gray, that was marked with faded lines and numbers that ran around the entire room at the border, smoothing out into curves at the corners without changing in width at any point. It reminded her of the Land Run but instead of the distance markers being up on poles here it was instead printed on the floor itself.

"Rehab, physical therapy..." Merlin repeated. "Being as this is a medical facility my assumption is this equipment was used to strengthen oneself?"

Eli nodded, moving the beam of light from set to set. "Yep. Most of this is equipment you'd use to work on your balance, coordination, strength, flexibility, to name a few. Some is just regular exercise equipment that doubles for therapy work. Pretty basic stuff in here. I guess that's why this area down here is different - this is a patient area, and those were always made up nicely to help relax people as they worked on their health. Injury, sickness, or age could get you sent to a physical therapy session or two."

Selene followed the beam with her gaze as Eli moved it around; there were various sizes of wooden blocks, more stairs, more tables, lots of what looked like deflated rubber balls, cords and jump ropes, things that looked like weird bicycles... "Why would they put a patient area down in the lowest levels?"

With a shrug Eli handed the flashlight back. "Couldn't tell you. There were a lot of dormitory rooms above us so I bet this place doubled as a long stay rehabilitation center -- not every room above was meant for an employee's use, I guess."

"Was it common for people to live where they worked?" Petra asked.

"Depends on the line of work but yeah, sometimes. Also with how...um. With how huge Dubei was, for a lot of people and employers it was just more efficient to house everyone onsite. Could take you an entire day to get from one end of Dubei to the other."

Merlin shook her head as she left the room. "I can't picture a city so large."

Selene let everyone else leave ahead of her then followed along as they popped the other doors. These rooms had more of the same therapy equipment (but were much smaller than the room they'd just left - more personal, it felt like) and she decided to roam a bit further into the last one; the equipment was mostly non-powered - as in, it wasn't meant to be powered at all though there were a few things she found plugs and cords on, and there were regular plug outlets along the walls, at certain places on the floor, and even a few spots on the ceiling. Experimentally she tried to turn the wheel of a bike and found it stuck; even though it didn't seem like there was moisture down here the metal had still fused together over time. If it couldn't be repaired or restored she might be able to salvage all those gears, some chains, and the metal would be still somewhat good to melt down as scrap...maybe she could even re-purpose the scrap into rebuilding--

"Let's move on," came Merlin's shout from outside the room; it echoed oddly amongst the equipment and Selene hurried out to join the others in the elevator.

"Being as so many other substantial things appear to have been removed from this place it seems a bit odd that this therapy equipment would be left behind."

Eli shrugged. "It's easy to make, easy to replace. Dirt cheap to buy compared to everything that SHOULD have been left behind in an emergency in the supply closets but wasn't. A lightbulb is more valuable in the long run than an exercise bike."

That made sense. Sort of. The elevator smoothly carried them down to the next floor - it was almost All Source time.

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

The more pieces they found on their own the less this place made sense.

Before heading down to these last few floors they'd talked to Pauline again; she'd said this was a medical research facility - specifically, a bio-technical research facility. Making machine-like biological devices in the pursuit of treating health issues. A research facility meant to build "machines" out of organic components wouldn't have much need for physical therapy equipment, and especially not an entire floor's worth of it...while a rehab patient might benefit from bio-technical intervention in certain diseases she knew that there weren't any official medical programs within Dubei that would have legally allowed people to be lab rats, and there was no way a facility could operate for long while illegally experimenting on people.

Well, whatever. The All Source AI would be able to answer all their questions.

Which, that SHOULD be somewhere on this floor.

The elevator had spat them out into another small sitting area; what had once been overstuffed, luxurious armchairs were now crumbling and rotted, along with the matching couches and plush pillows that sat on them - likely this was a waiting room for patients. Low coffee tables and small but taller tables stood beside or between groups of the furniture, making nice and neat little areas that felt contained despite being in one open space; along the walls were dusty old screens Eli assumed had once been capable of television and movie broadcasts, and she wasn't able to entirely stop a small, wistful smile from crossing her face -- she doubted this world would have movies, or musicals, or television. Or at least not in the format she was used to.

Beyond the waiting area was a hallway that curved in either direction; she took a right turn and began to plod along, noting as the paneling on her left-hand side gave way to frosted glass that was caked in grime and made all the more impossible to see through. The wood paneling on the wall to her right remained, and old-fashioned wooden doors were spaced at roughly twenty foot intervals.

The hallway continued to curve and an idea of the floor layout was forming in her mind. "All right - I think this just goes in a circle," she said finally. "In the middle here should be the All Source. No idea what these rooms on the outer part of this circle are for but I'm betting we're going to have a hell of a time getting in to the All Source since the entry door SHOULD be one of those that's access-locked. Pauline might have given me access to what she could control but that won't apply here, especially since I don't have any sort of access key and we lack power to the central servers."

"Uh..." Selene started; when Eli turned to look back at her the woman had a sheepish look to her.

"What?"

"Well, when we were trying to get inside the room where you were, Arlo just...kinda...sorta, broke the glass door, if you remember."

Eli snorted - yeah, she remembered that now. "We won't be able to do that here. If it's protecting an All Source AI I bet this glass could take a bullet hosing and not shatter. We'll have to figure out where in the floor the emergency release is."

"The FLOOR?" Selene repeated, huffing out a sigh. "I haven't seen any places where it looked like we could get under the floor."

"Because we don't get into the floor through the floor. We'll get in there through a maintenance shaft." She paused and looked at the identical fake wooden doors (as in, the wood was fake, not that the door was) and sighed herself. "Might take awhile, but I bet behind one of these doors are stairs down to an access shaft. They tended to keep those compact and close to where you needed to get inside as buildings got larger."

"You know..." Petra said, walking up to one of the doors and rubbing a hand against it. "It occurs to me that nothing we've seen so far had any sort of number or plaque identifying it. How did anyone know what's what? Sheer memorization?"

"Sort of?" Eli answered. "I mean...go somewhere enough times and you'll remember where it is. But we all had uh... You have clocks, right?" Petra, Merlin, and Selene all nodded at her in unison. "Are they hi-def or analog?"

"...huh?" was Selene's response.

"Um... Do they tick tock, or are they a display?"

"Oh. Tick tock."

"Ok. So we had these things called Hi-Defs. Their actual names were High Definition Personal Display Units - they were about this big-" Eli held her hand out with her thumb and forefinger about an inch and a half apart, "-square for the basic models. The more expensive ones were about this big-" this time she held out both hands about five inches apart with her fingers and thumb forming a narrow rectangle. "You wore them on your wrist or arm and they were basically a tiny AI you carried around with you. It would project a larger image into the air that you could interact with with a finger or you could use voice commands with it. All addresses were automatically updated to your Hi-Def once you were within a set area for it -- for example if you were to walk inside this building wearing one all room numbers and directions would be automatically ready for you to pull up any time, and you could always punch in any address at any time and be guided there by your Hi-Def."

"Wow... But, what happened if you didn't have a Hi-Def?" Selene asked.

Eli shook her head. "Not possible, unless you broke yours and just never replaced it, which would have been a very stupid idea. EVERYONE was given a basic model Hi-Def once they hit ten years old - government paid for them and made them readily available for everyone who needed one, though you might have to pay a small fee to replace yours depending on how it broke. It would have been pretty impossible to get anywhere in or beyond Dubei without one."

"Travel in the Old World sounds like it was...complicated."

Chuckling she turned to eye the nearest door. "Not to someone who lived there. ...er, then."

Petra had rubbed away some of the dust on the door earlier, revealing that the varnish on the door was cloudy but you could still make out the pretty, dark grain of the actual wood beneath it. Eli moved toward it and brushed her hands all the way around the frame of the door; there weren't any scuff marks, knicks, or dings in the frame so she was fairly convinced this wasn't the maintenance access door (careless people with toolboxes were a common "danger" to any and all door frames - even the plasti-crete or stainless steel ones). They'd already passed four doors and there were who knew how many more ahead of them if they kept going forward along the hall.

"Well..." she said, looking back at the others. "Who's feeling lucky?"

After a few hours work, moving counter clockwise around the circle from the elevator, they all could call themselves lucky; finally, in these rooms, they were starting to find stashed components -- lightbulbs, circuit boards, keyboards and screens, a few Hi-Def replacement pieces, cords and discs and...just, anything Eli could think of that would've gone into a computer or any other technical equipment was in here. And it was clear these rooms WEREN'T intended to be storage rooms as they were as nicely appointed as the previous sitting area had been.

Despite them being stacked high with boxes that she'd previously been hoping to find Eli found herself wishing the armchairs weren't falling apart and were empty all the same; her back and hands were aching and her knees were starting to feel a little unreliable. A quick cat nap in a nice plush armchair was sounding pretty good...

'We're almost done,' she kept telling herself. If they could get into the maintenance access, get the All Source AI powered on, and check that it wasn't damaged due to time or the various power failures, they could call it a day. It's not like the AI would be going anywhere.

She, Merlin, and Petra were skimming over the contents of this latest impromptu storage room -- these boxes were full of old medical texts printed on plasti-paper, along with technical manuals for Surgi-Tech Suite machines (though where the machines were was anyone's guess). Some of the texts would no doubt be useful to Dr. Xu but without the Surgi-Tech machines the manuals would be pretty useless. Had ANY surgical machines or AIs-

Don't think about it.

-survived this long? She made a mental note to ask Dr. Xu when she got back to the clinic again.

Selene had moved ahead and was methodically scrubbing dirt and grime off the doors further down the hallway; if she found any scuffed up doors she was supposed to come running but so far they'd not heard anything from her. There were a few boxes of just texts that they could take back up with them today if they left the crates of power stones behind...that would probably be a better use of their physical efforts -- with the entry elevator being watched around the clock by the Civil Corps it was highly unlikely anyone could get down here and steal the stones (or anything else for that matter).

"Hey, guys?" came Selene's shout from the hall.

Eli poked her head out of the room; Selene was far enough along the hall that she couldn't be seen beyond the hall's curve. "Yeah?"

"I found an open door -- the center part, I mean. It's open."

...open? That wasn't right. There's no reason the security door leading to the All Source AI should've been open already.

With Merlin and Petra right behind her Eli headed down the hall; she estimated they were probably on the far side of the halfway point (meaning, to get back here from the elevator they should turn to the left instead of the right). Finally they met up with Selene who, as she'd claimed, was standing in front of a glass door that was slightly ajar; it was frosted like the walls to either side, and its frame was thin strips of stainless steel so it would have at least stood out from the glass wall even if it hadn't been open.

"WHY is this open..." Eli muttered. At least the security systems would also be offline so she had no fear when she reached out to push the door open further.

Hinges that hadn't seen a lubricant in centuries shrieked in protest as the door opened; beyond it was a smell of spilled oil and dust. They all flipped on head lamps, and even the extra flashlights they'd carried down with them and in the beams of light they began to piece together the layout and contents of the room.

It was a circular room with a tall ceiling and curved rows of computer consoles atop desks arranged in neat, concentric half circles around the massive All Source AI docking--

"Well, shit," escaped her before she could stop herself, as their beams of light all fell on a gigantic pillar in the middle of the room that could only be the central All Source AI docking station -- emphasis on "docking," as this model of AI was meant to be mobile. "We've hit a snag."

"What?" Petra asked, looking as concerned as she sounded. "What's wrong?"

Eli led them up an aisle between the rows of desks. "This is a mobile All Source model."

She stopped when they were at the base of the massive AI; it was basically a square pillar in the center of the room with rectangular screens that reached from the ceiling down to six feet above the floor. In front of them was an indented rectangular spot, four feet wide by six feet tall, with an obvious thin gap running through the middle from top to bottom; Eli knew that these were a set of double doors that would open to allow the AI's accessory body to step out of its docking port, allowing it to freely move about the facility as needed.

"Wendy could move too, initially," Merlin said into the pause that followed. "It doesn't seem out of the ordinary that other All Sources could move about as well."

"From what you've told me Wendy sounds like a warehouse and distribution All Source system," Eli responded. "Wide stance, hands that could grab and lift -- built for strength and purpose in hauling things. A mobile medical All Source is going to be vastly different...for one, it's not going to be much larger than a typical human, and it'll look more humanoid than most because you don't want to upset your patients with something that looks too mechanical."

"Why would a medical All Source AI need to move?" Selene asked.

Eli shrugged. "AIs are meant to serve in any capacity we need them. An All Source AI could labor or issue orders as needed, and a mobile model could do so from any location as required. It's just...how things worked." She walked slowly around the pillar; there was just the one door into the docking station, as she suspected. "The problem is I don't know anything about how to attach power to a mobile All Source. Their systems are going to be different and delicate enough that I'd rather not risk causing a short somewhere -- especially now that there isn't a way to manufacture what we'd need to fix it if I did."

Selene stared at the doors to the docking station. "Can't we attach it somewhere in the line like we've been doing with the doors?"

"The mobile body and the stationary body are going to have separate power lines coming in. Even if we figured out how to hook in without breaking anything we're not going to have the power needed to power both."

"...do we NEED both?" Petra asked, sounding puzzled. "We don't need it mobile, we just need it activated."

Eli stepped back from the AI's pillar to stand with the others, shaking her head. "This AI is technically one unit but spread across two pieces. If we want to power him at all it'll have to be both and we don't have enough power stones to sufficiently power both halves. We might be able to sort of wake him up but it'd be equivalent to asking a human who's blind, deaf, and missing their legs to run a marathon."

Merlin hummed to herself. "I see. We already have every power stone in the Research Center on hand...if that's not enough I'm not sure we could gather together more in any reasonable amount of time."

"So...what do we do then?" Selene asked. "We might not EVER get enough power stones together if what we have isn't already enough. We can't make more of them - all that we have are things we had to find in other ruins."

"Well," Eli sighed, looking to the builder. "That's where you come in. I suggest we turn our attention to getting those tools made to get the relay box fixed, and get that reactor back online. It might not be running at full power but that'll be way more than we could scrounge together with stones. Get the reactor online, and we get this entire facility back online."

Selene wrinkled her nose. "Oooh...well. Before we do all THAT I'll need to finish up the locking mechanism for the access elevator then."

"Gale really doesn't want anyone down here until he says so, huh?" Eli chuckled.

The builder nodded emphatically. "I've been keeping him up to date on everything we've been doing and he wants this place to remain intact for study. It's the most intact ruins ever found in this region...there's a lot we can learn here. Dr. Xu will be doing back flips over those medical texts, for sure."

"Let's get back to the surface, then," Petra said after a pause. "Selene, I'm going to reference everything we have and see if there's any mention of these tools."

"And I shall come help personally with the casting of the molds," Merlin interrupted. "I'm sure the four of us can create something suitable in no time."

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

"Ah, there you are."

Selene and Eli both paused and turned at the shout; behind them Gale was hurrying up to them, huffing a bit as he came up the ramp.

"I was hoping to catch you before you got to the clinic," he wheezed when he was up to them. "Granted, I was hoping to catch you before you left Django's too but I was clearly a bit late for that part," he chuckled a moment later. "Eli - I've received word back from the council. They'll be sending in some assistance for the ruins, as well as a few scholars who would love to speak to you. And, I also have everything in place for you to take residence in an apartment of your own."

"An apartment?" Selene broke in before Eli could respond. "You're going to put her in Happy Apartments?"

Gale nodded. "An apartment was readied for her-"

"No no no," Selene went on, interrupting again and shaking a finger in the air. "Those apartments are nice but they're the size of a cracker box, AND that's where Lee and Nora live too. She can stay with me."

Both Gale and Eli blinked at her; it might've come out of her like a spur of the moment idea but it was actually something that had come to mind a couple weeks ago. "I mean it," Selene went on. "I've got extra bedrooms at my shop AND I can promise I'm not going to cause a stink that she's there." She turned to Eli. "I won't even charge rent! I've got more space than I know what to do with - we'll have to furnish a room but aside from that--"

"Now wait a second," Eli broke in. "I intend to work and pay my own way. I don't want to rely on charity for the rest of my life."

"OK, fine," Selene huffed. "We'll figure out a rent arrangement. But seriously," she turned her attention to Gale. "We already know Lee is going to throw a fit when he finds out about Eli. Let's not put them in direct conflict by making them neighbors, yeah?"

Gale sighed. "I did think of that and the apartment that's ready for her is as far from Lee's doorstep as possible. And if there's a problem it will be taken care of."

Selene turned her attention from Gale to Eli. "Those rooms are tiny - everything in one room with only the bathroom divided off. One bedroom at my place is the size of an entire apartment unit there. Let me at least show you the place before you pick where you want to stay?"

Before Eli could reply Selene had her by the wrist and was guiding her back down the ramp and across the plaza, with Gale following along in their wake.

Selene's shop was something of a point of pride for her; it was a gigantic two-story home, kept clean and in good shape every season, and she'd added on a stable and always had a nice garden along the front fence during warmer weather. She stole a look at Eli as they came up to the gate and was pleased to see the appraising look on the woman's face that turned to surprise when she saw the automated mechanical assembly platform that, admittedly, took up the lion's share of the property.

"This place was left to me by my dad," she said. "I'm pretty sure he meant to move the entire family out here eventually but he...uh, didn't. That's another story I won't bore you with but basically, I have this huge house to myself and it was clearly meant for one than one person. There's an extra bedroom on the ground floor and one on the second floor, and there's two bathrooms, a big living room, and a nice kitchen. AND-" she went on, pointing to the assembly station with its robotic arm and to the warehouse nestled in behind it, "I've got manufacturing set up that might be something you're familiar with. It'd be perfect to have you here anyway since we're going to be working on getting those tools made up -- no need to walk all the way out here if you're already living out here."

"Uh..." Eli muttered, looking around at the garden and the assembly station, and then turning her attention to Gale.

Gale scratched at the back of his head. "Well... The Happy Apartments arrangement was the best that could be done on short notice. There aren't many open residences in Portia that're in good enough shape that I felt it would be appropriate to offer..." He paused, then looked to Eli. "You're of course welcome to the apartment, or if you think Selene's offer is more appropriate for your needs you're welcome to make that arrangement as well."

"I..." Eli said, looking between the two of them. "...I feel a bit awkward, like I'm pitting your offers against one another."

"Of course not," Gale chuckled. "I'll admit I was as surprised as you are that Selene's made such a kindhearted offer."

Selene grinned. "It was something I'd thought of before, don't worry -- I didn't mean to spring it on you so suddenly but when I heard Gale mention the Happy Apartments, I... They really ARE small."

"But serviceable," Gale said, waggling a teasing finger at Selene. "I'm not offering her a moldy hole in the wall."

"Yeah, yeah - they're clean and in good shape, just small."

Eli looked between the two of them silently for a moment or two, then huffed out a sigh. "All right, well. At least let me see both rooms before I make my decision."

Selene clapped and hurried toward the front door, fumbling for her keys.

#Lost in Time #lit #Lost in Time - ch 6 #Merlin #Petra #Gale #Builder #My Time at Portia

8 notes · View notes