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#I swear I'll try to sleep
once-in-a-blood-moon · 2 months
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Okay, so what if you propose to Solomon before he gets the chance to propose to you? Like obviously, he'd been thinking long and hard about what kind of ring to pick out, where to do it, what to say, yadda yadda... But then while you're *ahem* supervising him in the kitchen one evening, you get down on one knee and propose to him instead.
Poor guy did not see it coming, at all. Initially, he thought you fell or hurt yourself, so he scrambled around to check on you only to see you smiling up at him with the biggest heart eyes. With a gentle flourish of magic, you make the box appear in your hand before opening it to offer him the ring inside.
He can hardly believe it. Him? You want to propose to him? And you beat him to it? He's both impressed and deeply honored. Your little magic stunt made him proud as your teacher while also making the already special moment a million times more so.
Solomon's not one to get emotional. The only time he's ever cried to you was when you and the rest of Purgatory Hall tricked him with that overpowered onion...but this is different. He feels safe to cry as you spout to him a beautiful, heartfelt speech - feeling every letter being etched into his heart and every syllable committed to memory.
He falls to his knees, reaching out to hold you while whispering as many shaky "yeses" as he can muster through his sobs. He can't stop repeating himself like a broken record, beyond excited for this next step in your relationship, touched that you want to keep him as yours.
Once he's calmed down enough through your hushes, kisses, and gentle touches, you pull back to take his hand into yours. Slowly and carefully, you slip the ring onto his finger.
Solomon just stares at it with his heart in his throat, noticing how it shines in the light, how it fits him perfectly (both aesthetically and in size), and how it feels right occupying what he always assumed would be an empty finger. You've given him the gift of hope and the gift of love in the time he's known you. And here you are giving him even more...your life.
And in return, he's gladly and readily giving you his.
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lilithofpenandbook · 1 month
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Seriously how can M*r*uders stans like random Slytherins (who tf are Evan Rosier, Pandora (is that Luna's mum and why tf is she Evan Rosier's twin in half of these), and I don't even want to discuss Regulus) and make them Actually Misunderstood Good People Who Were Forced Down That Path when at least one of them *coughreguluscough* was obsessed with Voldemort
And then turn around and make Snape an awful person?
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kaddyssammlung · 10 months
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dangans-ur-ronpas · 5 months
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Chapter 20
alright guys hit the showers. or the bathhouse. wait hold on i left my computer boy in there. guys wait don't open that
SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY
Some pre-chapter notes:
wow i wrote 10 pages for chapter 19 but i better take it easy so i dont burn out (writes 11 pages for chapter 20) anyway guess who's taking a break after this chapter
this is the one with togiri development but they're extremely not normal about it so it's almost blink-and-you-miss-it
@digitaldollsworld <- betapilled readmaxxer
Content warning tags: mild violence and injury description (non-graphic), description of depression symptoms and nausea, mild mention of eating disorder
< previous - from start - next >
He’s not sure how long he sleeps for, only that he wakes up still-dressed and laid out across his bed, his mouth dry and head groggy, the bedroom lights still on. As he checks his handbook’s clock, he finds he’s entirely missed Monokuma’s morning announcement, which is a good thing; he had no desire to listen to that bear’s irritating voice, especially not today.
But, he doesn’t have much desire to do anything else either. The library no longer feels like the safe haven it used to be, and he had no interest in going anywhere else and running into anyone else, when the atmosphere was still thick with the deaths of two people, and pity that Byakuya didn’t want. Much less, the possibility of encountering Makoto, who was the last person he wanted to see, so to speak.
He lies in bed a moment longer, unwilling to move. Everything feels sluggish, like he’s moving underwater; even his head feels stuffed full with cotton and wool. It's a strange, unfamiliar feeling, and unpleasant, too.
Grief. He thinks blearily at first, before rolling his own eyes at the thought, and pushing himself up with a grunt. Such dramatics didn’t suit him. He wasn't the kind of person to spare such theatrics, regardless of his circumstances.
He showers, brushes his teeth, and half-debates whether to try his hand at shaving before ultimately deciding against it (it didn’t feel like his stubble should be that noticeable, yet). He forgoes changing into a clean uniform in favor of his pajamas, and collapses back into bed with a sigh, hand searching immediately for his handbook - but finding nothing but empty sheets.
“Hello, there!”
He jerks upright immediately. Standing in the foot of his bed is Monokuma, rocking back and forth and looking as innocent as could be. Or, would be, if not for the handbook clutched in its paw.
Byakuya dives for it without thinking, but his perception is off, and he crashes to the carpet instead with a grunt. Monokuma sidesteps him casually with a laugh. “Whoa, there! Easy partner, don’t wanna hurt yourself!” It dances around his head, infuriatingly out of reach. “Didja miss me that bad? If you wanna hug, you can just say so!”
“Give it back,” He snarls, as he picks himself up. He’s in no mood for its jokes. “Give me back my handbook!”
“Your handbook? My my, but these were all mine first, weren’t they?” It shakes a paw disapprovingly in his face. “I just need to check it real quick, after all. I didn’t expect Mister Fujisaki to go and Macgyver anything onto here, so if it’s anything malicious, I’ll have to do a quick wipey-wipe!” Byakuya makes another lunge, and it juggles the handbook out of his reach, hopping backwards with a mad cackle. “After all, if it’s anything naughty, there’s no way I can let it fall in the hands of my precious students!”
“You miserable little-” Byakuya tries to rise to his feet quickly, but he hasn’t eaten since yesterday, and a bout of dizziness crashes into him like a wave. He sways and braces himself against the mattress, one arm still reaching out clumsily to try and grab at Monokuma.
But the bear has already flipped it open, scrolling so quickly through the screens that the little automated voice can’t keep up, the words blurring together. “Schoo-Stu-App-Day-”
“Whoops, too far.” It scrolls back. “Applications, that’s what we wanna see. And, what’s this?”
Byakuya feels his blood run cold. There was only one application there, the one Chihiro had downloaded for him. Alter Ego. The app was inconspicuously named ‘Test_App’ in the interface itself, but if Monokuma opened it-
“Well well well. Let’s take a look-see!” It crows, and Byakuya’s protest is frozen in his throat. He shuts his eyes, expecting to hear Chihiro’s voice-
“Black to E5.”
He opens his eyes again. What?
Monokuma also seems confused, tilting its head as it stares at the little screen. “What’s this? A chessboard?”
“Black to E5,” Alter Ego repeats, so digitized and monotone it was nearly unrecognizable. “Would you like to review the board?”
“Is this all it is? A chess game?” Monokuma sounds almost disappointed. Byakuya, seeing his chance, surges forward, snatching the handbook back and snapping it closed. He presses it to his chest, feeling his heart thud beneath it.
“Is that a problem?” He demands, and Monokuma shrugs, shaking its head.
“I guess not, but I thought it’d be something spicy, y’know? You’re a growing boy, after all!” It reaches out to pat Byakuya’s knee, and he steps backwards just in time, lip curling in disgust. “Aw, don’t act so mean to your headmaster, you’ll give me a complex!”
“Get out.” He hisses. “You got what you came here for. Leave.”
“Oh, alright…you sure know how to make a bear feel glum...” It sighs, kicking at the carpet, before it makes its way to the door. “Take care, now! Make sure you eat something, y’hear? I don’t want any hunger strikes in this house! And-”
No sooner had Monokuma crossed the threshold, had Byakuya jumped up, and sped forward to slam the door with a resounding bang. He takes a moment to breathe, leaning against the wall, legs suddenly weak.
How the hell did that thing get inside my room? He was sure he had locked the door - or he should have locked it, at least. Looking back, he actually can’t remember, but he double and triple-checks now, suddenly paranoid. He also flips off the light for good measure, leaving the room in complete darkness before he crawls back into bed.
Beneath the covers, he opens his handbook, and squints until he can make out the pale green shape of Alter Ego’s face on the screen.
“Is he gone?” Alter Ego asks, and Byakuya relaxes, the tension flooding out of his shoulders.
“Yes.” He whispers back.
Alter Ego makes a sound like a sigh of relief. “I’m glad. I got so scared when he grabbed me.” And its voice sounds so much like Chihiro's that Byakuya feels a strange pressure behind his eyes.
“How did you know?” He asks. “That Monokuma was there?”
“I could hear it. Through the microphone.” He reaches up and touches the tiny pinprick grid of the speaker, and feels the buzz of Alter Ego’s voice against his fingertips. “I didn’t want you to get in trouble.”
“Don’t worry about me. I think he would’ve just deleted you as punishment for me anyway.” He sighs. And then frowns, as a thought comes to mind. “If you could eavesdrop from the microphone this whole time, then you already know…?”
He doesn’t finish his sentence. But he doesn’t need to. Alter Ego makes a quiet noise like a sigh. “Yes, I know.”
“I’m sorry.” And he’s surprised to find that he means it genuinely, and almost laughs at himself. Heartfelt apologies were rare for him, and here he was offering one to an AI, of all things.
“It’s okay. He knew it might happen,” Alter Ego replies, and he imagines it might be smiling, a sad, helpless smile. “There’s nothing we can do about it now.”
“No, I suppose not.”
They’re quiet for a moment. In the darkness, Byakuya can almost pretend that he’s normal - unable to see in the dark as everyone else is. But it’s also the middle of the day, and he’s too restless to sleep, too uneasy to go outside. Too tired to mourn. Too mournful to do anything else.
“Can you really play chess?” He asks instead.
“I can, along with checkers, shogi, and backgammon and more.” 
“Play a round of chess with me, then. I’m bored.”
“Okay!” Immediately, the pale blot of their face on the screen is replaced by a square. “I’ll play black. What’s your first move?”
He smiles to himself. “E2, pawn to E4.”
Hours pass like that. He plays chess with Alter Ego (three wins, four losses, and seven draws), and a few rounds of shogi (one win, one loss, and two draws) for good measure. And then, huddled over his desk with his back facing the camera, he pores over lines of Dostoevsky and Nietzsche until he feels too sick from staring at the letters to even hear Alter Ego’s voice, reciting the words aloud beneath a dim ringing in his ears.
By the time he’s pulled out of his concentration by the sound of a knocking at his door, he’s too nauseous to feel hungry, but his throat is stinging from lack of water and there’s a slight pulsing in his head. His immediate first reaction is to ignore it, but that proves to be impossible; whoever was on the other side was clearly, very persistent, and had nothing better to do.
Even so, he lasts a full five minutes until he finally gets up to answer, irritated beyond measure. If it was Makoto, he was going to slam it closed again, reasons be damned. He didn’t even want to think about the other boy, lest he get pointlessly enraged about it.
But instead of brown hair, he’s met with pale white. Kirigiri stands at his threshold, hand partially raised, halfway through knocking, and they stare at each for a moment in silence, as if both surprised to find the other person there.
And then he slams the door shut in her face. Or tries to - instead of the satisfying bang of wood meeting wood, there’s a sickly crunch, and then she’s wrenching the door open, heedless of the way her fingers had just been crushed in the jamb. He almost winces in sympathy, but she’s too busy pushing her way in to offer much room for condolences.
“What is wrong with you?!” He demands, trying not to be too obviously perturbed by her lack of reaction; he doesn’t think he even heard her wince. She ignores him for a moment, attention focused on her hand, as she experimentally clenches and unclenches her fingers. Apparently they’re not broken, or maybe, she just had high pain tolerance. Or she was more insane than he thought.
“We’re calling a group meeting,” She replies, without so much as a waver. “Come to the bathhouse.”
“And why should I?”
“It’s important. I can drag you there if I have to.” It doesn’t sound like an empty threat either. Somehow, she seems impatient, though he’s not sure how he can tell; and it wasn’t just because she shoved her hand into the door in order to deliver the message.
He weighs his options - on one hand, he has no desire to speak with anyone, much less Makoto, who was bound to be there. On the other hand, he didn’t exactly have anything in the way of provisions in his room, and though he was still a little too light-headed to consider eating, it’d be embarrassing to collapse from dehydration at this point. That, and it seemed that Kirigiri had no intention of letting him refuse.
“...I’m going to get dressed first.” He says shortly. If he’s going to have to meet them, it will not be while he’s still in his pajamas.
“Hurry up.”
She makes no move to leave, and he realizes with no small amount of annoyance that she was making sure he wouldn’t be able to run or shut her out again. Somewhat affronted by this, and now wanting to go even less, he grabs a clean set of clothes from his dresser and goes to the bathroom.
Routine carries his hands through the motions, so he manages it relatively quick, but it’s only after he’s applying the finishing touches, that he nearly pokes himself in the eye as he reaches to adjust his glasses. It’s a strange sensation, feeling the bridge of his nose and finding nothing, and even though his original prescription was low and they were more an accessory than anything, he feels a little like he’s lost a limb.
She’s still there when he emerges, though now standing over his desk, bent over the books he has open. She looks up as he approaches, one hand halfway through turning a page.
“What?” He asks, chin turned up in challenge.
“Nothing. Just looking.” She closes the book, and he realizes, scandalized, that it was the one he was reading earlier. It was going to take him ages to find that page again. “You have predictable tastes.”
“Shut up. Are we going or not?”
He follows her out, his hands twitching all the while, smoothing down his shirt, his lapels, his sleeves. Making sure his buttons were lined up, that his shirt was tucked; he hadn’t had the time to put on garters or even try a hand at his tie, and he feels underdressed.
“You’re fine.” Kirigiri says suddenly, and he freezes, one hand resting on the button of a shirt cuff. “Stop fidgeting.”
He scowls. He was walking behind her, so what would she know. “I’m not fidgeting.”
“I can hear you fidgeting. Your buttons are fine.”
“Oh, can you hear my buttons now too?”
It’s a petty, childish remark, one that he can’t stop himself from muttering before he can even reconsider it. She stops at that, halting so suddenly in the middle of the hallway that he almost walks right into her, and turns around to face him, her head moving in a slow tilt from up to down - scanning me, he realizes - before she says: “You look fine. Are you quite done?”
She was checking for me. He’s not sure if he should feel grateful for the courtesy or irritated by her lack of grace. “Did the sound bother you that much?” He asks instead, patting down the front of his shirt one last time.
“...It wasn’t the sound.” Is all she says, with a sort of finality that indicated that no other questions would be answered on the topic.
They enter the bathhouse, and find everyone else there, gathered in a sort of semi-circle around the wall of lockers. Asahina and Ogami, predictably, are huddled close together on one of the benches. Celeste and Yamada sit on another bench, one fidgeting uneasily, the other sitting regally with legs crossed and hands folded. Hagakure is standing next to Owada, who doesn’t even stir when they walk in, and who Byakuya ignores in turn, gaze sliding past him uncomfortably. Fukawa hangs near the back of the group, and twitches when she sees him, though makes no move to approach.
Makoto is leaning against the lockers with hands tucked in his pockets. He looks up as they enter, and stands up straight immediately. “Ah-”
“We’re all here?” Kirigiri cuts him off, casting a glance around the room. “Good. Can you catch him up, Hina?”
“R-right,” Asahina looks between Kirigiri and Byakuya, then at Makoto, and seems to hesitate for a moment. “Um, so…last night, I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d go to the kitchen to get food. But on the way there, I heard something coming from the bathhouse - like, a weird, machine-y kind of sound? - and when I went in…”
She peters off. He raises an eyebrow, “And?”
“Uh, it’s going to sound a little ridiculous...”
“You act like nothing else is ridiculous about this situation. Get on with it.”
Her face flushes dark, embarrassed. He gets the feeling that Ogami is glaring at him, but since he can’t see it - and has no reason to act like he can see it, anyways - he ignores it easily.
“Right. I saw a ghost - I know it was a ghost,” She adds defensively, as Byakuya was preparing to scoff and roll his eyes. “It was glowing green and floating in front of the lockers, and…and it had Chihiro’s face.”
“That’s-” not a ghost, he’s about to say, but he stops, suddenly uncertain. The bathhouse had no cameras, but he wasn’t sure if Alter Ego’s existence should be revealed here, now, to everyone, especially given some of the individuals present. His hand reaches into his jacket pocket, where his handbook was. “That’s…and you’re sure it was Chihiro?”
She seems taken aback by how seriously he asks that, and nods quickly. “I know it was Chihiro! It was his face and everything!” She points in front of her, at a locker less than two meters away from her eye level. The exact locker, Byakuya thinks, where Chihiro was keeping his laptop.
He wonders if Makoto was thinking this too.
“...I highly doubt the existence of ghosts,” He sighs. There was no point trying to hide it with Kirigiri around, and better to do it now than later. “Instead of being in front of the locker, I think the thing you saw was inside it.”
He turns to the locker Asahina had indicated, and moves to unlock it - before realizing he doesn’t know how. If it was unlocked by key, he didn’t have it, and if by code it was even more impossible. But Kirigiri steps forward, nudging his arm out of the way, and the locker door clicks open under her hand.
Sitting inside is the laptop, its screen dark. After a moment, it hums to life, flickering green. A round, pale shape forms, and behind him, Byakuya hears someone gasp.
“Hello,” Alter Ego says, and their voice is clearer through the computer than through Byakuya’s handbook, and sounds so similar to Chihiro’s that it’s almost jarring. “It’s nice to meet everyone!”
Hagakure shrieks, arms thrown up in fear. “A g-g-gh-!”
“It’s not a ghost,” Byakuya cuts him off sharply. “It’s a program.”
“Yes, and it looks like something Chihiro made.” Kirigiri touches the keys lightly. “This computer was the broken one from the library. And the fact that it was placed here, out of sight of the mastermind, means that it was meant for us.”
“So, this is what I saw last night…” Asahina’s tone doesn’t sound uneasy anymore, but wondering, and she raises a tentative hand as the little Chihiro in the screen waves at her. “But, what is it?”
“You just asked, ‘what is it,’ right?” Alter Ego says, almost teasingly, making her and several others jump. “The short answer is, I’m an AI program based on as much of Chihiro Fujisaki’s personality, memories, and thoughts as he managed to transcribe into data…um, but if it’s easier for you, you can call me Alter Ego. I was made to try and break through the firewall around the school’s network and to analyze the files on this computer, but it’s been taking a long time. I’m only about 25% done.”
25%? That was already more than Byakuya expected, and he feels a thin, inexplicable strum of pride.
“Crazy…hey, isn’t this crazy?” Yamada is up from his seat, and sitting as close as he can, crouching on his heels to be eye-level with the screen. “This is so- so totally sci-fi, right? Isn’t the genre wrong?” He sounds excited, overly so, and his breath is a little fevered and fast. “Hey, Chihiro! Can you hear us?”
Alter Ego doesn’t respond. Byakuya suddenly remembers the night that Chihiro was installing the application on his handbook and how Alter Ego only ever responded after the sound of keystrokes. “You have to type what you want to say in order for it to respond.”
“Move.” Yamada scurries out of Kirigiri’s way, as she drops to a crouch in front of the open locker. There’s the sound of fingers clicking over keys, and then -
“It will take me a while longer to finish analyzing everything,” Alter Ego says aloud, a little sheepishly. “I can definitely finish it though! Actually, progress is moving faster than originally predicted, so you can leave it to me!”
“My, how dependable.” Celeste remarks. “It seems that Chihiro has left us an invaluable gift, does it not?”
“It’s…pretty crazy,” Hagakure agrees, scratching his head. “Wait, uh - can Alter Ego get online? Like can we call for help from outside?”
“Hmm, probably not.” Asahina hums in thought, crossing her arms. “We’re in a bathhouse after all.”
“Then, if we take it outside of here-”
“No.” Kirigiri says flatly. “We can’t take any risks. Taking it outside might mean that the mastermind will discover it.”
“Yeah, but, I think it’s better to get help sooner than later. You know…” He pauses for a moment, tilting his head pointedly towards Owada. Throughout this whole time, the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader had been as still as a mouse, face turned downwards towards the floor. Hagakure clears his throat awkwardly. “Can’t we try it?”
There’s a sharp tap as Celeste laces her fingers, rings clicking together. “As stated earlier. We cannot take unnecessary risks. And we are not in the position to be pointlessly altruistic.” Her tone is casual, but Hagakure seems to shrink away from her, defeated.
“I…okay. Fine, sure.” He scratches at his head, then pauses. “Ah, wait a minute. Does Alter Ego, like, know…?
His question peters off, but the implication hangs over them like a heavy fog. Byakuya watches them cast uneasy glances at each other, then back to Alter Ego, as if trying to figure out who should break the news.
“It already knows.” He mutters. He’s not trying to be loud, but in the silence everyone could hear it anyways.
“...Not to say you’re lying or anything, Byakuya, but how do you…?”
Instead of answering Hagakure out loud, he reaches into his jacket pocket and withdraws the handbook, flipping it open and holding it up, screen facing them. Someone gasps.
“Yes,” Alter Ego confirms their unspoken question, and its voice echoes uncannily, doubled between the laptop and his handbook. “Master made it so I can be accessed through Byakuya’s handbook, so I could assist him with his visual impairment. I can also access the microphone function on this device, so I was able…I was able to overhear what happened”
The little, buzzing voice trails off sadly, and Byakuya suddenly feels uncomfortable, as the room grows all the more dreary. He clicks the handbook closed, suddenly irritated.
“That should explain it.“ He sighs. “Chihiro built Alter Ego to try and help find a way out of here, and at the same time gave me access so I could be self-sufficient. That’s the extent of my knowledge about it.”
He looks up and finds nearly all of them with their faces tilted towards him, and shifts, disconcerted. “What?”
“Nothing…it’s just kinda sweet that you’re, like, telling us this yourself.” Hagakure, ridiculously, sounds almost happy about this. “You never really talked to us about yourself before.”
“There’s no point in being secretive about it. Not when I was already forced to reveal it during the trial.” He sniffs. Immediately, Hagakure looks away, chagrined. From Byakuya’s periphery, he can see Makoto still facing away, his ears turning pink.
Kirigiri clears her throat. “...For the time being, it’s clear that we need to ensure Alter Ego remains a secret from the mastermind.” She says, and Byakuya watches as she types something out, a thick line of black characters. Every few keystrokes, she stops, and deletes the last word in a series of light clicks; listening closer, the sound was awkward and irregular, each press slurring into the next key. With a slight twinge of guilt, he realizes that the cause of it was her left hand - the one he had practically crushed.
After a moment’s consideration, weighing his conscience with what was at stake, he nudges her slightly with his knee. “Move. You type too slow.”
“And how would you know that?”
“I can hear it.” He replies flatly. “You type like you’re all thumbs. Move over.”
He half-expects her to stay where she is, to ignore him and continue, but to his surprise she actually complies, standing up and stepping aside. He crouches into the space she had just abandoned, sliding his hands over the keyboard until his index fingers find the tiny, tell-tale grooves of the position keys. The size and dimensions are different from his computer at home, but for a moment the feeling is so familiar that he’s almost nostalgic.
“What did you want to ask again?”
“If it has any contingency measures in place for if Monokuma - or the mastermind, or anyone suspicious - happens to find it.”
His fingers skim over the keys, clicking fluidly. A thin line of black appears at the bottom of the screen in time to his movements, but he can’t confirm if the output is accurate; judging by the way Makoto gasps behind him, and the way Hagakure whistles, he can guess that it’s more or less correct.
“Impressive,” Celeste says, in an appreciative tone. “I suppose being such an esteemed heir means you have many talents.”
He can’t tell if she’s mocking him, so he decides to ignore her, though he allows himself a small amount of smugness. He finishes typing: “Is this what you wanted to ask?”
Instead of replying, Kirigiri leans over his shoulder and clicks the ‘enter’ button. After a moment’s pause:
“Hm, to be honest, so far I’ve just been trying to be reeeally careful with when I’m active…though I guess that backfired last night, with me scaring Aoi.” Alter Ego hums in thought. “But, I do have a secret plan! If anyone comes around who I don’t recognize on my webcam…I’ll scream super loud!”
“That’s so basic!” Asahina blurts out, shocked by the simple nature of it.
“Yes, and it’s not likely to work at night.” Ogami grumbles. “The bedrooms are soundproofed.”
“Maybe we can try taking turns staying up?” Makoto suggests. “I can take the first night, I don’t mind…”
“I think such a sudden change in our patterns is likely to draw suspicion from the mastermind. Which would be rather counterproductive.” Celeste says, and Makoto ducks his head immediately. “Though, your thoughtfulness is appreciated.”
“Then it can’t be helped.” Kirigiri sighs. “I’ll leave my door open. I’m at the end of the hallway anyways, so if anything happens, I should be able to react the quickest.”
What a crazy woman. “You’d leave yourself vulnerable?” He scoffs. After all the precautions he’s seen her take, it’s hard to imagine her sacrificing herself to any degree.
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take. Besides, I’m not so helpless. I have no intention of going down without a fight.” She pauses, mouth open like she’s about to say more, before she decides against it. “Anyways. We should avoid any mention or contact with Alter Ego as much as possible, to draw as little attention as we can.”
She claps her hands sharply, a sound that makes more than one person jump, and makes Byakuya almost flinch. “For the time being…let’s disperse.”
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soot-and-salt · 1 month
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Anytime I even vaguely feel like I might be heading under the weather, I think two thoughts:
If I get sick I will be furious
Fuck, time to write Blitzø again
This sore throat better just be because I'm burned out and tired...
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I was thinking about how the run away with me au Robin and Steve "should we get divorced?" conversation comes about:
Theyre about 23 and Robin comes home in tears after another break up. The reason: Robin had asked her girlfriend of 8 months, Lorraine to move in with her and steve. Lorraine assumes this means steve is moving out and when Robin clarifys that no Steve is staying, he's an important part of her life theyre married for chists sake. Well Lorraine doesnt take that well, says she isnt going to spend her life playing second fiddle to Steve.
This isnt the first time a relationship had ended for either of them because a partner hadnt been able to accept that Steve and Robin were a package deal. Things had been especially rough for them romantically in the first couple years of their marriage. It wasnt until a particularly awful screaming match between Robin, Steve and Steves first real boyfriend, that they were able to admit their relationship was incredibly codependent and unhealthy. Steves boyfriend had been upset when Steve had cancelled on him for the 3rd time in a row because of a Robin Emergency™️ and decided to confront Robin about it while Steve was in class. Things escalated quickly when Steve came home early from class to find them arguing and immediately took Robins side. The argument and Steves relationship ended with a slammed door, a lot of tears and a new rift in Robin and Steves relationship.
It took a lot of long conversations with Carina and Marjorie, Steve working through his toxic masculinity enough to go see a therapist - He and Robin made a deal that theyd both go talk to someone about, you know almost dieing "do you think me being fucked up by what happened at starcourt makes me weak steve?" "No of course not!" "Well then why would it make you weak?" - and a summer spent apart (Robin taking an internship in rome to study latin) for them to sit down and have a long conversation about boundaries and ground rules for how they would navigate their relationship as well as dating in the future.
Steve and Robin agreed to both take a break from dating while they worked through their respective traumas, and figured out how to navigate their relationship in a healthy way. Things werent easy, the both of them occasionally backsliding into unhealthy behaviors, more than a few nights where one of them spent the night with Carina and Marjorie in order to have space from eachother. But eventually they get their shit figured out and decide to brave the world of dating again. Steve and Robin both have their share of flings and short lived relationships but nothing so far seemed to stick. That is until Robin met Lorraine.
Lorraine was funny, sweet and a little bitchy. They had immediately clicked after being introduced by some mutual friends from school. Robin really thought things with Lorraine were going to work out. Steve and Lorraine had gotten on like a house on fire, she had slipped into Robin and Steves dynamic easily, trading jokes and light hearted jabs, cooking breakfast together on days Lorraine would stay at their apartment. Robin had fallen hard and fast, she thought she had finally found someone who accepted that her and Steve were a package deal. So 8 months in when Lorraines lease was ending Robin (with agreement from steve) asked Lorraine to move in. Things don't go to plan. Robins dreams of a future with lorraine are shattered. She goes home broken hearted.
After Robin has cried herself out, her and steve cuddled together on the couch Steve is the one to broach the topic. Robin immediately bursts back into tears before he calms her back down again saying he doesnt want a divorce but he also doesnt want to hold Robin back, doesnt want to be the reason she cant find happiness. Robin replys by saying if anyone is holding the other back its obviously her, steve gave up everything to protect her afterall. Steve calls bullshit -years of therapy and he can finally say that word without cringing- says he would do it all again in a heartbeat, that she doesn't owe him anything. They stay up all night talking about it, about what the both of them want from their futures. Neither can see a future without the other. they're platonic life partners, one day they'll find their someones who can accept that and if not well, they'll always have eachother.
Of course they do find their someones in the form of a charming if infuriating metal head and a brilliant, sweet, and badass reporter. Through trial and error the four of them figure out how to navigate life together. They all live happy ever after.
Robin and Steve celebrate 30 years of marriage with divorce papers. They'll always love eachother but now they dont need a marriage to keep eachother safe. They dont need a marriage to stay as platonic life partners. They have eachother and they have Eddie and Nancy. They have everything they need.
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Lmk what you think! I'd love to have someone to scream with about this AU and bounce ideas off of :D
Tagging by request <3 @ramyayaya
#i think steve and eddie find eachother infuriating in a good way and also a sexy way and i love that for them#i wrote this instead of sleeping#i'll actually turn this into a fleshed out fic i swear. i just happened to see a post talking about how a lot of fics make steve and robin#imcredibly codependent and started thinking about how i would handle that in my fic and decided to write out my ideas#i dont want it to come off as magically theyre perfect and okay. i think things would be messy in the beginning. and still a bit messy#even after bc theyre only human you know. i think having elder queers to talk to would be so important to them for helping them figure#things out you know#i think eddie and nancy wouldnt enter the picture until Steve and robin are 27/28#im also still trying to figure out relationship dynamics bc the fruity 4 are in a polycule and how i think that would be for them#no matter which way you look at it the relationship between the 4 of them is inherently queer and thats beautiful#i hesitate to have eddie and nancy marry eachother in turn bc yknow heteronormativity#i think people assume theyre together and that eddie and nancy never confirm or deny why people make that assumption#but idk if they ever get married idk ill have to think about it#if you read this far in my tags feel free to hop in my dms and scream with me about this au#id love to have someone to bounce ideas off of#run away with me au#platonic stobbin#robin buckley#steve harrington#steddie#ronance#long post
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bitchybylershipper · 1 month
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kinda crazy that i've been having like a three day long anxiety attack about going to school tomorrow
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ribcagebonemeal · 1 month
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me on pony town vs me on pony town
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sivvan · 2 years
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@userdramas​ event 01: (one of my) favourite kdrama[s] + favourite kpop group
↳ seventeen (hug) + if you wish upon me
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seventh-district · 2 months
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#Seven's Public Diary#vent#vent post#cw vent#cw vent post#can i go more than a fucking week without having my cptsd triggered again? pLEASE???#me and my haywire nervous system can't ever catch a fucking break i swear to god#at least i managed to get the Matt fic posted before that happened and ruined my night#literally three minutes after i hit post. something has to happen IRL and ruin my slight good mood. sigh. anyways#my chest still feels tight but my focus is coming back i think. lets hope the rest of the night is uneventful#anyways. uh. positives. got the Matt fic posted on here And Ao3! yay. after working on it the last two evenings it's officially done#i know i put way too much effort into my fics especially ones that will get very little readership but eh i can't help it#time spent doing something you enjoy is never time wasted or however the saying goes#uh oh. the stress injury in my neck is starting to feel tight again. that's probably not a great sign#i should try to relax. been sitting at my desk too much recently and my back's mad abt it too#i would unwind with some Genshin exploration grinding or smthn but that's just more desk sitting time#so hm. animal crossing in bed it is then#watch me say that then spend the next 3 hours on tumblr#i cant help it i want to update my pinned posts and fill my queue up some more#and i have some drafts to work on... still need to finish that Sun & Moon appearance guide for ES#maybe i'll pull an all-nighter. i need to fix my sleep schedule again. like badly. but then i risk a migraine. aaggghhhhhh#anyways this has been Venting and Bad Decision Making 101 thabks for coming to my TED talk#oh hey look at that i got a like on the Matt fic. mood slightly improved. thank u whoever u r <3
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steelthroat · 6 months
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Fake it till you make it? Yeah, tomorrow I'll pretend to know about the War Poets when asked about them ;D
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orcelito · 25 days
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Ok anyways brief blurb about my day before I go to sleep. Tbh most of my day was class, finishing editing and posting that chapter, then going home and Uhhh well I biked like half an hour in 97F heat index and I wore jeans and I didn't have my hat (for repelling sun) and well I think I got minor heat exhaustion. Got home stumbling and lightheaded etc etc was nauseous in the shower too. Took a real cold shower tho to cool off and ate some food and it helped. Still was awfully dizzy even sitting down. But I've recovered 👍 mostly. Took a nap earlier which didn't fix the LimbHeavy which I still have. Hopefully a full night's sleep will help with that. Anyways I got up from my nap and played dnd and here I am now.
That was my day 👍
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lokigodofaces · 1 month
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"you should NOT wash your hair every day"
if any of you can explain to me, a person with curly/wavy hair (sometimes it's curlier than other times), how to not wash my hair every day without my hair being either frizzy, looking like there isn't even a bit of curvature, or both, i will stop washing my hair every day.
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starpros-sunshine · 2 months
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We <3 hearing things
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bloomingbluebell · 4 months
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me: i don't have executive functioning problems. i'm handling things perfectly fine!
me: *ignoring the growing pile of tasks and chores that i have not done*
me: *gets home after one (1) class and lays down for 5-6 hours*
me: perfectly fine
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kellystar321 · 1 year
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me, 12 AM: okay gotta sleep for school now
brain: yeah okay.
brain, 3 AM: hey good morning. that was enough sleep right?
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