cincinnus

request guidelines

- no nsfw

- will not write figafau , caiowe , mithruti , etc.

- x reader ok! no names, please specify pronouns

- i’ll write x akira differently than x reader sorry akira is a guy to me

- you can ask for headcanons or a short fic

- i love writing aus

- you can request pronouns for characters!

- you can also send asks to characters. lol.

find me elsewhere

twt

ao3

I interact from @southballad, as this is a sideblog

masterlist

🪩

information

all of my work here is unbeta’d and just for funsies. I may crosspost onto ao3 if i’m particularly pleased with a piece, but it will most likely undergo some editing before that!

Faust gently ushered a mug of tea into Akira’s hands before turning to the white, fluffy cat kneading happily at his bedsheets.

Lemongrass. With a hint of sweetness. Akira accepted it gratefully, feeling the warmth travel from the mug to their fingertips as a pleasant tingle.

The two of them were outside for some time as they tried to coerce this cat inside. Even with all of Faust’s patience and gentle words, it still took the better part of a half hour. Plus, they had encountered Bradley in the hallway and had gotten an earful about “potential allergens,” and “getting that thing out of here”. The cat, unsurprisingly, wasn't well- received in the manor.

“Goodness…” Faust mused. “Look at you, all content now that you’re inside. I have half a mind to believe you’re in fine condition after all.” He paused, watching as the cat resigned to licking its paws. “Spoiled.”

Akira chuckled at the scene, carefully setting his mug down on Faust’s desk and going to stand beside him near the bed, giving the animal a healthy amount of space.

“So it’s alright?” Akira asked. The cat meowed, surveying both Faust and Akira curiously as if it’d never seen the two of them before–as if it hadn’t been leading them in circles around the outskirts of the manor for ages, making sure to coat its fur with mud and leaves thoroughly.

“Seems like it. Other than the obvious,” Faust said with a sigh, taking his hat from his head and dusting it off before turning to Akira. “Sorry for dragging you into this unnecessarily.” Akira shook their head and dropped to their knees near Faust’s bed to offer the back of their hand to the cat, who sniffed it with disinterest. Faust put his hat back on.

“I don’t mind at all! I quite like cats. They remind me of home.” They reached a hand out to stroke its fur, watching how the cat followed their movements with wide, light blue eyes. They really did remind Akira of home. Late nights at work and the constant grind were reduced to nothing in the face of certain fluffiness.

“Ah– don’t dirty your hands even more. Let me go get a washcloth,” Faust gently reprimanded, turning to leave. The cat seemed to notice the intent, perking up and reaching its feet. Its eyes scanned Faust’s retreating form before leaping from the bed, using Akira’s shoulder as a launch pad. Its claws effortlessly ripped through the fabric of their shirt and into their skin as the cat grappled for traction, making Akira wince as they felt the sting. They grimaced, turning their head to inspect the scratch.

The cat mewed innocently as it landed, weaving between Faust’s legs and nearly tripping him. He clicked his tongue.

“Nothing but trouble with you…” Faust said in the cat’s direction, returning to Akira’s side in a few strides to inspect his shoulder. They pulled the neckline of their shirt down, lamenting more over the torn fabric than their injury. Then, they felt Faust’s chilled fingers brush their skin gently, taking over and holding the shirt. Akira pressed their arm against their side in an attempt to make his job easier–whatever job that was.

“It’s fine, just a scratch. I’ll just go wash it with soap and water,” Akira reassured, voice quiet and hesitant to break the silence. They shifted slightly under Faust’s attentive gaze.

“Satillquinart Mullcreed,” he whispered after a moment. Akira felt the familiar rush–

No, that’s not the word.

Faust’s magic was akin to a river, yes. But a river during the middle of summer when the mountains lacked snowmelt to feed it. Not raging, not entirely unforgiving, but not meandering either. Still plenty powerful. Akira felt it run through their veins and coax a sigh from their lungs, gently healing over the cut and taking their worries along with it. What a kind sort of magic, Akira thought.

“Ah… thank you, Faust,” Akira said, embracing the smile that tugged at their lips. Faust pulled his hat down just a touch.

“It was just a small scratch, as you said. Don’t mention it,” he said with an air finality that told Akira that he, quite literally, didn’t want them to mention it. With some effort, Akira smothered his smile for the sake of Faust’s Eastern nature. “I’d still go wash it if I were you. And find Chloe to mend your shirt,” Faust continued. Akira nodded in agreement.

“You’re right. I’ll leave the cat to you for a while, then. Seems like it’s made itself at home under your bed, for now,” they said, heading for the door. They heard Faust’s clothing shift behind them.

“That wasn’t me kicking you out, by the way. I wouldn’t mind an accomplice for escorting it back outside so I don’t get into too much trouble,” Faust managed. “The others listen to you more.”

“Yes, sure! I’ll be back in a moment.” Faust nodded, eyes following Akira, who was suppressing further words of thanks, out and into the hall.

✎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Rutile’s content to do pretty much anything with you! As a Southern Wizard, he’s happy just to be in your presence. He’s a good story teller and enjoys just chatting.

Rutile teaching you how to do calligraphy & guiding your hand. Being patient and gently correcting your mistakes. He’s a good teacher, after all!

Rutile taking you to her mana area, a flower garden, and weaving flower crowns together with you:)

All of his gifts to you are handmade! He always puts in loads of effort and it shows. Nothing makes Rutile happier than seeing you happy after receiving something from her:) Or… sometimes when she returns from missions she’ll bring you something from nature that reminds her of you. Like a bouquet or a cool rock. Gotta love a person who brings you cool rocks.

Adding on, I think he’d make you a pair earrings:) now you match!

Surprisingly strong! She’ll pick you up without hesitation.

You’re his muse! When he’s out of drawing ideas, his mind goes straight to you. Much of his sketchbook is filled with little doodles of you:) Sometimes he’ll have you pose for him and he just. Mindlessly compliments you as he draws or paints. He can’t help it!

She’ll bring you tea and snacks when you’re working. She’s very supportive of your endeavors.

Forehead kisses & back hugs :3

Knows all the best spots in Southern country! Takes you to cute cafes and beautiful outdoor areas.

✎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Nero was halfway through an apple when he heard keys jingling and a muffled “shit” as Bradley struggled with the broken lock of the apartment door. Nero did not walk over to help him. Eventually, the door flung open with a little too much force and slammed into the wall, adding to the already-prominent dent in the cream-colored wall.

“Hey,” Nero greeted, taking another bite of his apple. He was met with a glare from Bradley that may have, at one point, sent a shiver down his spine, but now just warranted a: “Rough day, boss?”

“Don’t give me that, asshole,” Bradley shrugged off his jacket and threw it on a nearby lounge chair instead of the much closer coat hanger. Nero would have given him a look had Bradley been in a better mood. Or any other mood, for that matter. “Y’know what Cain asked me today?” Bradley continued. Nero cringed. He had a pretty good idea of what Cain had asked him today.

“Not a clue,” Nero replied, deadpan. Bradley took a few steps towards him as if trying to intimidate, though both knew it wouldn’t achieve much. He put his hand on the counter, effectively boxing him in. Nero looked unbothered and took another bite of his apple.

“‘Hey, boss, have you seen Nero’s new tattoo? It’s real cool—it glows and everything!’” Bradley said, poorly mimicking Cain’s excited tone. Nero swallowed before answering, propping his arm that held the apple on the counter and gesturing with it.

“Ain’t my fault he saw it. ‘s a locker room, after all. If he’s lookin’ at me shirtless, that’s his problem, not mine,” Nero said flippantly, shrugging and watching the way Bradley’s eyes flitted over his face.

“Oi,” Bradley warned, leaning in real close, obviously unimpressed with Nero’s wording, “It is yer problem. Mine too.” Nero scoffed and forcefully pushed past him. They tended to get on each other’s nerves more often than not; Nero was easily riled up and Bradley lacked eloquence.

“What. You scared of losin’ yer job over me? Next time think twice before harborin’ an illegal assistroid,” Nero continued bitterly, annunciating his words extra clearly to make a point. He gestured at himself while Bradley turned around in an exasperated manner, following Nero with his sharp gaze. Bradley chuckled sardonically.

“My job? I’m on Figaro’s good side. ‘Sides, he’s too much of a coward to do anything. I know too much about what that freak gets up to,” Bradley explained, leaning back against the counter with an amused smirk on his face as he thought about the sorry excuse of a man known as Professor Garcia.

“Ain’t that nice. Then why’re ya so worked up about this? It’s Cain we’re talkin’ about, yeah? I love the guy but he ain’t the sharpest officer I’ve worked with. He doesn’t know shit, and we’ll keep it that way,” he said like it was obvious. Nero walked over to the trash can, disposing of his apple core while Bradley stared at the ceiling. He made a noise of frustration before standing up to his full height and blurting:

“I ain’t afraid of losin’ my damn job! I’m afraid of losing you, Nero.”

The only sound in the apartment was Nero’s quiet footfalls coming to a halt as he turned his head to look at Bradley and a clock that ticked incessantly in the background of every conversation. The semi-silence seemed to last an eternity before Nero started shifting around awkwardly and fidgeting with the rings on his fingers.

“…O-oi… don’t you get all sentimental on me,” Nero said in a voice just above a murmur, crossing his arms again and looking anywhere that wasn’t at Bradley. This is how it always was with them—they’d crawl into each other’s arms at night and speak not a word of it the next morning. They had never put a name to it.

“Shaddup and listen.” Bradley pushed off from the counter and took just a couple of long strides over to him. They stood in an awkward place between the living room and the kitchen. It was a small apartment. “I’m askin’ ya to be more careful,” he said, sounding more irritated than anything.

“Was there a request in any of what ya just said? Couldn’t tell,” Nero said softly with none of the bite from before. He was still looking at the ground. He needed to sweep. “I ain’t obligated t’do what you tell me, anyhow. I’m not yer typical assistroid you can boss around.”

Predictably, Bradley took Nero’s chin between his thumb and index finger, lifting his head and coaxing eye contact from him. He liked doing that. Bradley wasn’t all that much taller than him—only an inch or two—but from this angle, it made all the difference. Nero’s breath caught in his throat upon seeing his face up close, as it had a thousand times before.

“Work with me here. I ain’t gonna lecture you on why yer still in one piece and not off in a junkyard somewhere, but we’re a team, like it or not.” Bradley continued to stare directly into Nero’s eyes, and Nero found himself wishing he had a lesser processing system. “So I’m askin’ real nicely. Be careful, Nero,” Bradley said, uncharacteristically earnest. His voice was stern but full of affection.

Nero felt his cheeks heating up slightly and took a few steps back. Bradley let him go easily. Nero cleared his throat.

“Yeah.. alright,” he said sincerely after a brief moment of contemplation. “Guess I’ll go back to changin’ in the corner like a kid, lookin’ all nervous.” That made Bradley laugh, and the atmosphere in the room changed.

“Yeah. You do that. ‘N tell Cain to keep his damn eyes to himself, wouldja?”

–

Nero woke the next morning at the same time he always did: 5:00 am sharp. It was something that had been programmed into all the police assistroids, and Nero had fallen into a habit of waking early before the Cardia System had been installed. Bradley relied on him to wake them every day and Nero had to do to rouse him was move around. But he was reluctant this morning.

Bradley’s hand was cold on Nero’s bare stomach. During the night, he had snaked his arms around his waist and pulled him close, tangled their legs, and reached under Nero's shirt to hold him tightly. Nero had remarked once that he was like a big, affectionate dog, unaware of how much space he took up.

Nero sighed contentedly, feeling safe in his arms if not somewhat coddled. It reminded him of how Bradley was so insistent on his distaste for assistroids, berating them every chance he could get while secretly caring for all of the discarded bots in private. He was one of them. The only one that Bradley had kept by his side. Nero was forever in the chief’s debt, but Bradley had never abused that.

The night that Bradley had found him, Nero was running for his life through the rain, having escaped Vollmond laboratories just about an hour prior. They were going to scrap him. He was too unpredictable, they said. Unstable. Bradley and a few other officers had found him and cornered him in an alleyway. He fought hard, but they managed to remove his mana plate in the end. Nero thought that was the end for him until he woke up in a shitty little apartment, soaking wet. Bradley had several bruises on his face that Nero felt quite proud of.

They’d forged some paperwork. Found an underworld mechanic to fix Nero’s ID. He wasn’t fond of the idea of having an owner, but his battery would be taken out for good otherwise.

“Ya wanna stay alive, rookie?” Bradley had asked.

“Yes.”

“Then you’re mine,” he had proclaimed.

Nero was Bradley’s assistroid. Legally. Kind of.

Nero was pulled from his thoughts by a groan from behind him and an arm tightening around his torso.

“I can hear you thinkin’ from over here. Yer interrupting my beauty sleep,” said Bradley, burying his head into the crook of Nero’s neck.

“Too bad. It’s time to get up, fucker,” Nero shot back, ignoring how low and groggy Bradley’s voice sounded next to his ear.

“Yer real cute, princess, but I don’t wanna. The force can survive a day without its chief, can’t it?” Bradley said, a shit-eating grin audible in his words. His breath was hot against Nero’s neck

“Like hell it can, Brad,” Nero said, prying Bradley’s arms off of him, standing up, and stretching. His sweatpants were rolled around his calves and his shirt was wrinkled. He could feel Bradley’s eyes on his back. “That whole place crumbles if yer not there.”

“Heh. I know that,” Bradley said proudly, sitting up on the edge of their bed, clasping his hands together, and laying his elbows over his legs. Nero laughed shortly.

“Bastard. I should stop feedin’ yer ego,” Nero said, pulling his shirt over his head and rifling through his drawer to find a clean one.

The blue lily crest on his arm glowed softly.

ships

bradnero

paradroid bradnero

headcanons

CENTRAL

NORTH

SOUTH

rutile

fluffy/romantic gn reader

EAST

WEST

chloe

fluff & physical touch

fics

CENTRAL

NORTH

SOUTH

EAST

✎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

I think chloe is someone who likes physical touch quite a but but due to his upbringing was denied of it so he’s really tentative with initiating.

chloe flitting around an artisan market looking at fabrics and holding the hand of whoever’s with him:)

he likes to collect old/vintage stuffed animals and mend them:) he has a collection of his favorite ones on his bed.

little touches all the time. like when he’s excited he touches your shoulder or arm or grabs your hand as he rambles.

Back hugs that surprise the person are his favorite:) funky little western wizard. I don’t think hugs are his favorite but theyre quick and affectionate when he does give them.

The rest of the west is very fond of chloe and he gets his head pat a lot and i think he enjoys it quite a bit!

he’s very apt at braiding hair and can do all sorts of styles:) i think he’d grow his hair out if only to do more fun things with it. He probably has a cute clip collection. Guy you can ask for a hair tie.

Will show you his fashion sketches and looms over ur shoulder the whole time because he’s self-conscious about them but he’s excited to show you.

Often falls asleep at his desk because he doodles when he can’t sleep.