Olilen Oneshots

You're Not Getting a Bird

A/N: Skip to 0:35 to understand better what this little fun prompt is referring to. I can't quite label it a crackfic yet, but I'm sure you can still figure out that this is more of a joke story. Enjoy!
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Len groaned pained and relieved once he got in his room. His back and neck were hurting from today's dance practice—his body simply didn't want to get used to offer his fans a show of acrobatics. Falling face-first to the ground seemed to sound more tempting, or at least that's what he told himself to get some sort of humor out of it.

Just as he dropped on his bed and kicked off his leg protectors, he turned on his back and sighed. The pain got only worse but his eyelids dared to drop any second nevertheless. He was not ready to go to sleep, yet no matter how often he blinked and stared right into the light on his ceiling, there was not much he could do against the tiredness. Even changing into more comfortable clothes sounded like an impossible task Len almost was willing to skip, until footsteps close to his room resonated through the hallway, and he got up. He should really change.

His consciousness was about to wave him goodbye as he jumped out of his bed and stumbled towards his closet, barely holding onto the handles to not crash on the floor from low-blood pressure, as a faint sound from inside reached his ears.

It was just one shift and faint enough for Len to wonder whether he only imagined it or accidentally brushed against the piece of wood himself, however, scratches against the doors soon followed. What made him freeze in place just a second ago, erupted into screeching laughter and Len jerked backwards. The laughter grew and roared and fought their way into his skin right into his bone marrow—children's laughter, louder and louder, clear and sharp.

They resonated in his nerves and shot electroshocks through his limbs up his neck right into his head. His alarm bells were ringing but Len still wouldn't budge. The laughter continued and grew for a split second, and Len was close to take his desk chair and throw it against the closet in hopes to hit whatever was waiting for him in there.

His senses only returned once the laughing quieted down for a moment and turned into low grumbles. Now was the time to focus and think his next steps through—or so he thought.

There wasn't neither much thought nor planning to it when it came to trusting his gut feeling and run away as quickly as he could. No matter what was waiting for him in the closet, his survival instincts would never choose the "fight" option anyway. He barely got back on his feet as he sprinted towards the door to his escape and screamed to find Oliver suddenly right in front of it.

He tumbled back into his room and gripped his shirt where his heart used to be a second ago before it finally gave up on him. Oliver invited himself and watched the scene in confusion and amusement. Only as Len seemed to have calmed down again, his head tilted to the side along with his notorious smug grin.

"Is everything alright?" he asked and Len looked at him petrified, slowly pointing to the closet. Laughter erupted once more.

"Oh, did you get trapped in here, birdie?" Oliver hummed and passed by Len without any regards for his returned panic. He opened one of the closet doors, and shortly afterwards, the creature that rampaged in the closet just a moment ago fluttered its wings and flew up on the edge of the furniture. Oliver giggled but Len stared at the creature in disbelief.

"You thought you were ready to be all alone, huh?" Oliver mused and got on his tiptoes to feed the bird a piece of pretzel he pulled out of his coat pocket. Croaky laughter echoed in their ears again and Len flinched, despite seeing the source of the noise right in front of him.

"What's going on?" he breathed out after calming down from his mini-heart attack. Oliver looked over his shoulder back to Len, cocked his head to the side and grinned.

"Oh, I let that magpie in just a moment ago. I've been feeding it the past few weeks and it's really cute."

"That's not a bird. That's a child's soul trapped in the devil's pet."

Len's sincere tone forced a giggle out of Oliver and he covered his mouth. Despite the confusing and awkward situation, Len's face would still bring out a light blush whenever he got to hear that angel's voice.

"Aww, c'mon. It probably just mimicked a child—that's all. Can we keep it?"

Oliver jumped up and down impatiently, but Len's eyes shifted to Oliver's arm with the bird suddenly clung to it. It stared up at him and laughed again—this time surely out of mockery, Len figured.

"Absolutely not. I'll never be able to sleep again."

"Please," Oliver whined and stretched out his pleads, but they continued to clash against a cold wall. Len usually couldn't resist this much adorableness, but there clearly were limits to love.

Len wasn't even sure whether to be offended Oliver didn't see the issue in the situation. He just continued to switch between his almost-convincing puppy eyes and giggles directed at the peculiar bird. Len stared at the animal for a while, and then his sight blurred, and for a second he saw his upcoming future with the messenger from hell, and he shook his head vigorously.

"No way. And you're definitely not getting a bird in any way."