fluttermousewrites!🦇༉‧₊˚.

I mean like there's this one Revali x oc fic I tried writing twice, eventually dropped, and I wanna pick up on it again LMAO, one about a "Champions survive" au and one focusing on 2/4 Champions (+ King Rhoam). The Champions need more love istg Nintendo forgot about them after totk came out-

It’s not as though you’re a horrible person! No no no, he likes you. You’re patient with him, and you treat others like an upstanding citizen should… but you are so odd.  At least to “normal” people.

Maybe you walk toe first. Maybe you make weird noises for no reason and click your tongue at passing birds. Maybe you eat all the contents in your taco separately and make a snowflake out of the tortilla by biting tiny chunks out and unfolding it. Maybe you laugh like a camel with indigestion. Maybe you rub your legs like a cricket whenever you get antsy, or subconsciously stick out your tongue, or just act in a way that is not totally socially acceptable. It literally doesn’t matter what you do, because the entire time, copy cat Katon-Ur thinks it’s commonplace. He’s akin to a toddler copying their parent. To Katon-Ur, you’re the most perfectly human, well, human he could glean social cues and habits from. You better start complimenting the hell out of his soft shell snowflake. He worked very hard.

Anon the way you literally just described me what— 

I imagine these tumultuous feelings would be all the more present if you and Victor were on the opposite ends of the morality and/or personality scale. If you’re an upstanding, warmhearted person, and especially if you detest any kind of debauchery, what business do you have fraternizing with Sonar? Forget his criminal past for a second. He’s still a coke-laden, boob-obsessed crypto bro. He might as well have a sticky note reading “I’m a degen” stuck to his furry forehead as a warning sign for good-natured folk not to waste their time with him. No decent person wants to be saddled up with that… 

Except for you, evidently. 

It was annoyingly easy for Sonar to endear himself unto you. It wasn't even intentional! But it was difficult to dismiss how his screeches, instead of eliciting the usual disgruntled groans, brought out stifled giggles from behind your closed lips. No one beheld his megabat form in quite the same awe either. Those dry jokes of his were the absolute worst; they were so stupid, they just looped back around to being hilarious! Besides, you had to admit he was pretty cute with that pink snout and those big ears. That image of a deviant ex-villain you initially thought him to be fizzled out, and in its place stood Victor: a certainly flawed man, but one with a caring heart beneath the bravado.

Likewise, the connection wasn’t a one way street. You politely engaged whenever he prattled on about his Harvard degree or some new get-rich-quick scheme he guarantees will work this time around (they won’t). Never have you mockingly rolled your eyes at Victor’s impassioned rants, and he was doubly aware whenever you accommodated all the idiosyncrasies pertaining to his physiology. He noticed it all. He becomes fascinated by you in turn, and for the first time in his life, it was not just for your body (though he liked that as well). Each unique quirk and hobby became an exciting adventure for Vic to discover, a new puzzle into your personality and an introduction to an enriching life beyond drugs and strip clubs. Your resourcefulness showed the Harvard grad an equally valid measure of intelligence. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly the party animal became domesticated by one little goody-two-shoes with a smile that twists up his gut.

Fear that was never present before festers beneath the surface, bolstered by insecurity and past mistakes now that the two of you are neck deep into a proper relationship. It’s unlike any Victor has had before, no longer built on a shaky foundation of meaningless one night stands, but on respect and compromise. Uncharted territory. Victor doesn’t know how he managed to snag you, let alone have for keeps. Unbeknownst to Vic, you think the exact same about him.  

He’s not good enough for you, he thinks. He’s a fucking failure. He never learns, never will, so why does he hold onto hope this will last? God, he wants you to stay so badly. He’s just a ticking time bomb. A perverted asshole. Some better guy for you will come along, he just knows it. One who’s clean and never touched cocaine in his life. One who’s kind. Considerate. Stable. Everything he’s not. What a goddamn loser he is. This is simply a dream waiting to be cruelly torn away the moment he wakes up.

And you. What have you done to catch his eye? You’re nothing special. You’re just a civvie. Any one of his colleagues are miles ahead of you in every other aspect. What you do pales in comparison to Victor. You were probably chosen by him out of pity. You’re not smart enough or cool enough. Not pretty enough. Not talented enough. You’re holding onto an inevitable heartbreak., you just know it. You’re just filler until Vic decides what a mistake he made taking a chance on you. 

But now, you tenderly run your fingers through his fluffy fur, brushing out dirt and debris from an eventful day at work. You can only smile as Victor vents about his idiot coworkers constantly getting in his way, knowing he doesn’t truly mean the insult. The hum of his PC fan lulls the dim bedroom into a familiar and effortlessly cozy ambience. Each gift you’ve lovingly bestowed him is proudly displayed on his shelf: physical reminders of shared treasured feelings. He leans into your gentle touch, the same way you do when Vic plays with your hair when laying against his chest. As you plant an unprompted kiss between those giant ears you love so much, the complaining briefly ceases, and he cranes his head back with a boyish lopsided beam only reserved for you. Of course, the whining continues without missing a beat the moment after, and you're all but content to listen.

It’s unorthodox, this pairing. It's unlikely and rocky and maybe a little messy at times, yet it unmistakably feels like home. And who in their right mind would want to leave their home for anything else?

Anyway, imagine hailing from Canada, Northern USA, or you simply run hot, and you find yourself moving down south for a new position at SDN. Enter balmy Los Angeles winter. You’re strutting around in shorts, sweater long discarded, enjoying the absolutely gorgeous 7 degrees celsius while locals are swaddled in all manner of hoodies and jackets. With all the wussies refusing to swim in the “too cold” ocean, you basically have the whole beach to yourself! Lucky ducky!

Los Angeles summer rolls around. This was a mistake. You bemoan the oppressive heat, and everyone else calls you the wuss now as you constantly peel your thighs from the plastic office chair. Meh meh meh, “it’s only 28 degrees” they said. The entirety of SDN was plunged into the depths of hell when the air conditioner went on the fritz, with a you-shaped puddle in the break room desperately leaning your cheek against the water cooler. Thank God for Waterboy.