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Before We Lost It All
A Viktorxfem!reader fic
Chapter Word Count: 2.5k
Tag list: @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @potatointhedirt @dedicated2viktor
"We make each other alive. Does it matter if it hurts?" - Ingmar Bergman
A/N: This takes place in chapter 9 of Muj Milacek during the scene where you convince Viktor to take a break from working and get some much-needed rest - in your bed, of course.
Masterlist
He’d let you sucker him into resting with those big, pleading eyes that plucked at his heartstrings. He was worrying you, he knew this, but he’d never been very good at accepting help. With his declining health and your visions of his death hanging over his head, he’d been growing increasingly desperate. And desperate times called for desperate measures - like sleeping in the same bed as the girl he’d been in love with for seven whole years.
If only you’d stop laughing at him.
"Is there something you find humorous about my attire, Milá?" He fixed you with what he hoped was a lovingly exasperated glare. At that point, he was too exhausted to tell.
"I'm sorry." You continued to giggle, undercutting your apology, though he found the sound pleasing enough to forgive you. "I'm overtired and I really wasn't expecting them to be that ill-fitting."
Viktor huffed at you, rolling his eyes with a small smile. He was well aware he looked ridiculous, the oversized shirt drowned his thin torso in fabric, but the pants barely reached past his knees. They had to be children’s pants, why you had them was beyond his understanding. To make matters worse, you were standing there in nothing but a large shirt that reached your upper thighs, your legs illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the window, and he assumed underwear beneath. You were gorgeous, and he was…feeling rather silly. Though he found it difficult to care all that much when you smiled so sweetly at him, the corners of your eyes crinkled with mirth.
"You can have the bed,” you offered when you’d managed to stop giggling. “I'll take the couch."
"I'm not stealing your bed, Miláček, it is plenty big enough for the both of us." Viktor pulled back the covers, slipping in. "And I will not subject you to that couch for any longer than necessary. I swear they made it with knives instead of springs."
He had insisted this both out of genuine concern for your back after sleeping on such an object, and out of his selfish want to sleep beside you. Could a dying man not be granted this one wish?
You hesitated, and for a moment he worried he’d overstepped your boundaries. But he wasn’t left waiting for long. You made your way to the bedside, shy but not necessarily timid.
"If you insist," you said, turning off the bedside lamp. "But you better not warm up your frigid toes on me."
"No promises."
The mattress dipped as you climbed into bed beside him, laying down with your hands curled tight against your chest. You were facing him, your chin tilted to meet his gaze.
This felt dangerously intimate. He was in bed with the woman he secretly loved - well, secret to you, Viktor was pretty sure everyone else knew. If he asked you to come closer, would you understand then? If he placed a soft kiss on the crown of your head, his hands cradling your back, would he need to say it? But he couldn’t voice his request, couldn’t find the words to ask for that which he longed for most.
He’d been a fool to think he could sleep with you so close yet not within his grasp. To lay beside you like his skin didn’t prickle with the need to be pressed completely against you was its own kind of torture.
"Does it hurt?" You broke the silence, your head turning to face him in the dark.
He was too tired to try to deny it, and you’d see through his lie anyway. "Yes," he answered plainly.
"Can I try something?" you asked, your tone even.
Curious and unable to deny such a simple request, he nodded. You reached forward, placing your hand against his chest and sending a bolt of excitement running through him. Your palm was soft and warm through his shirt, your heart beating quickly in your veins and tapping lightly against him. He lay still, his gaze fixed on you, giving you space to make the next move.
You closed your eyes, forcing your breathing to even out, your nose crinkling adorably in the low moonlight as you concentrated.
Nothing happened.
"Can I get closer?" you asked, and he appreciated your asking for permission - always polite and giving him the agency to choose.
He opened his arms, motioning for you to snuggle in. Slowly, you scooted closer until the top of your head was just below his chin, feeling the gentle rise and fall of your chest against his as you breathed. Your ear rested against his chest, one hand pressed against his chest while you placed the other on his back, over the back brace he’d been too tired to take off. He’d regret that tomorrow when his skin itched and his spine ached, but now he could focus on little else except the feeling of you curled up in his arms. Slipping an arm under your neck, he rested the other over your waist, drawing lazy circles on the small of your back. Viktor didn’t want to think about anything that didn’t involve you, nor how difficult it was going to be to pull himself away when the time came.
This wasn’t the first time you’d insisted he take a much-needed break from his work. Years ago you'd dragged him to a street fair in Piltover when he’d become so worn down by reports that he didn’t know where he ended and the equations began. He'd grumbled at first, but your infectious enthusiasm had won him over. You'd shared sticky cotton candy, the sweetness on your lips making him ache to taste them. When fireworks exploded overhead, he'd been captivated not by the display, but by the light reflected in your eyes.
Viktor's heart swelled with a bittersweet ache. He loved you - wholly, desperately, irrevocably. You were the sun to his withering form, the spark that kept his passion for progress alive even as his body failed him. He longed to confess, to pour out seven years of pent-up devotion. But fear held him back - fear of rejection, of complicating your friendship, of leaving you heartbroken when his time inevitably ran out.
So instead, he held you close in the darkness, committing every detail to memory. The soft whisper of your breath against his neck. The delicate curve of your spine beneath his fingertips. The subtle scent of your shampoo, floral and comforting. He etched it all into his mind, a perfect moment to carry with him always, no matter what the future held.
Viktor felt a sudden warmth emanate from your palm, spreading through his chest like rays of sunlight. A faint blue glow pulsed beneath your skin, illuminating the creases of your hand.
As your magic seeped into him, Viktor was struck by an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. The sensation was wistfully familiar, like a half-remembered dream or a long-lost memory struggling to surface. It felt like coming home after years away, like slipping into a warm bath after trudging through a blizzard. He couldn't place why it felt so natural, so right, but he found himself sinking into the comfort of it nonetheless.
The magic flowed through him, a soothing current that sought out every ache and pain. It pooled in his joints, easing the constant throbbing in his hip and knee. It traced along his spine, melting away the tension that had become a constant companion. Even the persistent headache that had taken up residence behind his eyes began to recede.
As the pain ebbed away, replaced by a numbing coolness, Viktor felt his body truly relax for the first time in years. His muscles unknotted, his breathing deepened, and the ever-present furrow between his brows smoothed out. He let out a long, shuddering sigh, filled with relief and contentment.
"Miláček," he whispered hoarsely, his voice heavy with sleep, "you truly are a wonder."
You didn't respond, your eyes still closed in concentration, but he felt your magic pulse in response to his voice. The blue glow intensified, casting soft shadows across your features. Viktor found himself enthralled at the sight, overcome by your beauty, wishing he could run his fingers down your jaw before capturing your lips in a kiss.
As the pain receded further, Viktor found his mind clearing. Ideas and solutions that had been just out of reach now crystallized with startling clarity. It was as if your magic had not only soothed his body, but sharpened his intellect as well. He wanted to leap out of bed and rush to his workbench, to capture these fleeting inspirations before they could slip away.
But the warmth of your body against his and the blissful absence of pain kept him rooted in place. For once, Viktor allowed himself to simply exist in the moment, free from the constant drive to work, to improve, to race against his own mortality. He tightened his arms around you, pulling you closer as you nestled in, pressing your face against his neck.
Viktor fought against the encroaching darkness, desperate to savour every second of this closeness, but exhaustion tugged insistently at the edges of his consciousness.
Within minutes, he was sound asleep.
Viktor drifted slowly into consciousness, his mind still blissfully foggy with sleep. Without thinking, he tightened his arms around the warm body pressed against him, pulling you closer. He nuzzled into your hair, breathing in your familiar scent. For a moment, everything was perfect.
Then awareness hit him like a bucket of ice water.
His eyes flew open as he realized where his hands were. One had slipped beneath your shirt during the night, splayed across the bare skin between your shoulder blades. If he moved it even slightly higher, he'd expose…Viktor's breath caught in his throat. He couldn't bring himself to complete that thought.
"Yeah, I noticed that too," you said, alerting him that you were awake.
He became acutely aware of every point of contact between your bodies. Your leg was slotted between his, your thigh pressed dangerously close to his groin. Your breath tickled his collarbone, your lips mere centimetres from his skin.
Viktor squeezed his eyes shut, willing away the temptation. You trusted him, had opened your home and your bed to him without hesitation. He refused to betray that trust, no matter how much his body screamed for more contact.
But oh, how he ached to explore further. To trace the curve of your spine, to map every inch of your skin with reverent touches. To wake you with gentle kisses and whispered confessions of love.
But that wasn’t for him.
"My apologies, Milá, that was not my intention," he said apologetically, reluctantly pulling his arm away and tugging your shirt down for you. It was the least he could do.
Returning his arm to your now clothed waist, his finger traced smooth patterns along your back. He swallowed his gasp of surprise when you buried your face in the crook of his neck.
"It's okay,” your words vibrated against his shoulder, “I don't mind."
He hummed a soft acknowledgement and was pleased when you made no move to disentangle yourself. The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow on the peaceful bubble. Nature's symphony of birdsong and distant traffic provided a gentle soundtrack as he let himself slowly wake up. As the fog of sleep lifted, Viktor became acutely aware of the pain creeping back into his body, the ache in his joints and the tightness of his back. Still, his head felt clearer than it had in months, the persistent headache reduced to a dull throb rather than the usual stabbing agony. He felt…rested. Truly rested, in a way he hadn't experienced in years.
Much too soon, your alarm clock shattered the serene atmosphere and worsened his headache.
You groaned as you slowly peeled yourself off of him and Viktor resisted the urge to grab your hips and pull you back into his arms. With a sigh, you slapped the top of the alarm clock aimlessly, finally hitting the off button and ending its incessant beeping.
Flopping onto your back, you turned to look at him, a soft, warm smile spreading across your face. The morning light caught in your tousled hair, creating a halo effect that made you look almost ethereal. Your eyes, still heavy-lidded with sleep, held a tenderness that made his heart stutter in his chest.
By the Gods, you were beautiful. Not in the polished, artificial way of Piltover's elite, but in a way that was uniquely, breathtakingly you. It was beyond his ability to describe, so he didn’t try.
Viktor's fingers twitched with the desire to trace the curve of your jaw, to tangle in your hair and draw you close. He imagined pressing his forehead against yours, breathing the same air, whispering all the words he'd kept locked away for so long.
But he couldn't. He wouldn't risk ruining this, whatever this was between you. So instead, he returned your smile with a small one of his own, hoping it conveyed even a fraction of the warmth he felt.
“You look like you slept well,” you teased, your smile tilting into a lopsided grin.
"You say that like it’s a good thing but it seems more like an insult to me." He patted at his hair, an attempt to flatten it that was doomed to fail from the beginning.
You giggled, a wonderous sound he would never tire of hearing, and sat up in bed. Before he had time to avert his gave, you’d stretched your arms over your head and you squeezed your eyes shut. Did you realize how your thin shirt plastered itself against your body, giving him a clear view of all your soft curves?
He cleared his throat, finding great interest in staring at the wall across the room, ignoring the blush that tinted his cheeks. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw your blush match his when you realized exactly what had just happened.
"I'm going to get ready," you announced shakily. With a quick swivel, you got out of bed and picked your clothes out of the closet, all while keeping your back to Viktor. Not that he minded, necessarily, but there was something about your reddened cheeks that captivated him entirely. "I'll meet you in the lab with breakfast?"
"Grab me a sweet milk and carrot muffin if they have it?"
“I’ll do my best!”
As you fled to the bathroom, Viktor found his voice once more. "Thank you, Mila." You turned back around to peek at him from around the door, adorable in your embarrassment. "I feel much better, you were right after all."
You smiled softly at him. "You should come back tonight," you said before hastily adding, "but only if you want to, of course."
He wanted nothing more, but did you? He swung his legs over the side of the bed, the sunlight streaming through the window illuminating his soft brown hair. "Are you sure? I don’t wish to impose any more than I already have."
You shook your head. “I don’t like sleeping alone, you’re not the only one who benefits.”
He smiled, bright and unburdened. Why had he doubted you? It seemed silly now when you regarded him with such bashful hope. You cared for him as he cared for you, didn’t you? “Then I suppose we have a deal.”
A/N: Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed the second Viktor's POV <3 Sadly, the arcane hyperfixation has left me, but when it comes back, I'm sure you'll definitely see more of these two! For now, I must let the writing demons out in my Dragon Age fic - time to terrorize another fandom!
#viktor x reader#viktor x you#viktor x y/n#arcane fic#slow burn#fluff#hurt/comfort#oblivious jayce#angst#magic#hextech#angst with a happy ending#isekai#reader goes to world#arcane viktor#arcane#mage#humour#eventual smut#no use of y/n#machine herald viktor#tooth rotting fluff#mages#beginning of relationship#trauma#sweet#sharing a bed
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Long time no see! Here's a lovely little update post for you all!
Chapter 4 progress was on hiatus for about a month and a half to focus on school and event weeks... well, I am happy to say that has come to an end! I have finished up sketches for pages 1 and 2 of chapter 4. I am vigorously working to get that, and potentially the lineart as well, finished up in this next week.
The entirety of.. season? Arc? #1 is finished in writing, and has been for a while, but I have touched it up and made it so so good I am very excited.
I will be making official character sheets for my designs for Lucifer and Alastor in ASR as I have received a few requests for such! Given this information, I was to make it known that you are very welcome to make art of my AU and my designs! The only rule I have is that I BETTER BE TAGGED IN THIS ART!! I want to munch on it and then stick it on my fridge so I can see it everyday and smile.
Finally.... I have a big announcement coming soon regarding a certain very awesome charity project that I'll be taking part in with this little AU ;)
That's all of the announcements I have for now, I love you silly little radioapple gremlins, keep doing you because you are awesome <3
#hazbin#hazbin hotel#hellaverse#radioapple#appleradio#alastor#hazbin alastor#hazbin lucifer#lucifer morningstar#hazbin comic#asr#a sirens requiem#asirensrequiem#update#radioapple au#alternate universe
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Two Animatronics Dancing—Oh, and You. You're Here Too
Holiday Spirit! au Chapter 2
*peeks into tumblr, looks around, drops this and runs*
Anywho, this chapter was a bit of a struggle for a bit there, I also just randomly felt bad so apologies for the delays, please enjoy! I went for the kill :)
having said that, Content Warning: Borderline/implied suggestive content, reader discresion is advised.
Ao3 link for those who don't wish to suffer (you should come back once you're done and read the tags and take the poll tho >:)c)
Word Count: 7306
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
"Oh, I um—" You're still processing this is happening, you need to think, lest you make a fool of yourself in front of the king.
You take a breath and bow. "My name is Y/N, your Majesty."
"Please, rise. After what you've done it's me who should be bowing to you." He chuckles, then waves you closer. "Allow me to thank you properly, if you would."
With a swallow, you walk forward, ignoring the tightening of the hold on your arm before it releases you finally.
Once you make it to the carriage is when you finally pay attention to the others inside. Neither the younger prince nor the princess look happy to be there, though the princess seems to be greatly enjoying teasing her brother every few moments. The older prince seems aloof, annoyed, but when you catch his gaze he shoots a wink your way.
Before you can think on it further the king is firmly clasping his hands around one of yours, shaking it. "Your quick actions have saved me quite the trouble. Might I ask how you had such knowledge?"
You give a—slightly mumbled—explanation regarding your work and your shop, to the king's delight.
"Ah, so it's you who's been repairing my guards so quickly." The king chuckles. "I must say, fine work. Almost like new!"
You nod. "We try our best, your Majesty."
"I want to thank you for your work." The king announces, thinking for a moment, then snaps his fingers. "I'll be hosting a grand ball in three weeks’ time, I insist that you join in the festivities as the guest of honor."
Your eyes widen, putting your hands up. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the older prince—god you're terrible with names, what is it again?—straighten up slightly, small frown on his features as he watches his father.
"Oh, you're far to kind, your Grace. I wouldn't want to intrude—"
"Nonsense!" The king scoffs, then shakes his head. "No, I've decided. I'll see to it myself that you get a proper invitation." He turns away from you then, addressing the crowd. "Three cheers for the smithy!"
The crowd responds in turn and you feel like curling in on yourself. Not just because of the attention, but because of the King himself. There was something about him, something behind those eyes and that smile that you found off putting. Which, not the attitude to have towards a man who could wave his hand to decide your fate, but you're trying here.
Soon after, the precession begins again, and continues without any further issue. You're still processing the entire ordeal however much later as you sit in the tavern up the street from your home and shop. Said shop having received an abundance of visitors in the past few hours.
Consisting of either new customers, curious festival goers, or fellow villagers congratulating you.
You didn't even do anything that major, you just unplugged a few wires!
Your crew gave you hell about it, their teasing was incessant once they found out the news.
It all had been so much that when Bri walked in your shop with the proposition of getting drinks like old times you all but jumped at the opportunity. Tossing off your apron and gloves and leaping into her arms—an old inside joke you used to play on each other—and with a laugh she carries you out of the shop and to the tavern.
Now, here you were, the sun long gone and a pint in your hands that you've been nursing for the past couple hours. You'd have drank more if you firstly didn't have work tomorrow, and if you could manage to get a sip without being interrupted by a thank you or the likes.
After the last person leaves, having been one of the chattier ones, you set your forehead on the bar with a groan.
Bri pats your back with her free hand. "There, there, o great and powerful smithy. People are just being nice. Eat it up while it lasts."
"I think if I 'eat' anymore I'll burst." You say into the wood, then turn your head to the side to look at her. "It wasn't even that big a deal, I don't know why he made it seem like such."
Bri tsks, taking a sip of her own pint. "He's the king. A major disruption happened during an event he was present for. He has to make a big deal out of it. Especially considering how bad it could have been."
You cringe at that. You'd found out after the fact that Bonnie's malfunction had caused him to not only lose control of himself, but prior to being tackled to the ground had attempted to point his weapon at the King. That had been the lone shot you'd heard, with the miss ending up in the sky instead.
"Just be glad it's a one and done thing, could be worse in that regard."
You sigh. "True. Very true."
"You know, I wasn't expecting to see you out today." Bri looks up down to you with a soft smile. "You've come a long way."
You scrunch your nose. "Don't remind me. It's disgusting." You protest as she flicks your nose.
"Getting through your grief isn't disgusting, you idiot. It's an accomplishment. One you should be proud of."
You sit up finally with a stretch. "Thanks. And what about you? What's new?"
"So much, and yet, nothing at all. I've missed it here though, I've been pissed off three years in a row that I wasn't assigned to come back." Bri huffs as you laugh.
You grab your pint, taking a sip. "Guessing it's cause of the threats?"
"That's what everyone's thinking, but personally I think there's more to it than that."
That grabs your interest. "You don't say?"
"Yeah, and I'd say it's because so many animatronics have been acting up lately, but that just started when we arrived here." Bri shakes her head. "I shouldn't be talking about this, you're probably tired."
"No!" You say, then cough, trying again. "I mean, no I um, find it interesting. I'm the one doing all the repair work, you know. Is that really the best you've all been able to come up with is just beating them senseless?"
She shakes her head again. "No, that I'm not entirely sure on, but I've noticed there's been a large number of bots stationed in certain locations throughout the castle, and town, for that matter. Places that just seem odd, you know?" She takes another sip of her pint, finishing it and waving her hand for another. "But I swear, it's when they come back from those locations—already a bit banged up mind you—that the glitches start happening."
You take all this in like sponge. Then, licking your lips you ask—"Which spots out of curiosity?"
"Town, just look anywhere that there's way too many guards. In the castle it's been the library, the west tower, and the—"
"And just what are you two chatting about?"
You turn in your seat, finding Sun is standing behind you both. Behind him is Moon.
Bri laughs, twisting to face them both fully. "Well look who it is! Didn't expect to see you two shmucks tonight."
"Shmucks is a bit harsh." Moon quips.
Sun nods. "We prefer the term bozos, or fools."
The three of them chat back and forth for a moment before Bri remembers what she was saying.
She turns to face you again. "Oh right, you wanted to know about the guards—"
"So, celebrating are we?" Sun interrupts, taking a seat on the stool between yourself and Bri.
You attempt to lean around him, but he sets his elbow on the counter, head in his chin, essentially creating a wall between you and Bri.
You frown. "We were, before you jutted in."
His grin only widens a tinge. "That's not much a greeting, friend."
"Well, considering you just now decided to acknowledge me, I could say the same to you."
You hold each other's gaze until a hand is set on your shoulder; Moon. He sits on the opposite side of you, taking your free hand to press to his smile.
"They're right, Sun. Good evening, Diana. How are you?"
You scoff, small smirk on your lips as you turn to him a bit more, ignoring the ticking sound behind you, and the tapping—of what you know is—a golden claw. "Just because you gave a proper hello doesn't mean you're any better."
"Late is better than never." Moon argues.
You reach for your drink again with a nod. "To some extent, I agree with you."
"I'll take that." Moon waves to the bartender, surprising you.
You keep your eyes trained on the pint that's set in front of him, then to him when he raises it to his mouth, pausing to meet your gaze.
"Something the matter?"
You're in denial. "You can drink?"
"I'm older than I look." He chuckles.
Your eyes narrow. "That's not what I mean and you know it."
"We're living machines. We have thoughts, feelings, and pain." Sun remarks, and you turn in time to watch him sip his own drink. "With all that considered, it be cruel to not be able to."
You twist in your seat again, genuinely curious and outright confused. Be it your own impulse or the small amount of alcohol in your system, you reach up with both hands to hold his face. He's less than impressed.
You rub your thumb's over his cheeks, brow furrowed. "What material is this? It's... spongy."
"Decided to acknowledge me now, have you?" Is his mused response.
You huff. "Let's call it even. Answer the question."
"Silicon. I believe." He puts a hand on one of your wrists. "Now are you quite finished?"
You don't care to take the hint. Still examining. "No. Why the mostly constant grins then?" You glance over to Moon slightly to be able to address both of them.
"More appealing to the public eye." Sun states.
Moon shrugs. "Laziness."
You nod, releasing Sun finally and reaching for your drink. "Never seen the like before."
"Well, seems you don't know everything after all." You must have genuinely annoyed him, you can hear a whirring sound emitting from him, just above the sound of the crowded tavern.
Moon chuckles are you bluster at this. "Who said I did?"
"That's the word going around, after the show you put on today." He offers up.
"Hardly. Believe me if I knew it was going to cause that much of a fuss I wouldn't have—" You pause, remembering the alternative. "Well, I suppose I still would have."
Moon sets down his—now empty pint—waving his hand for another. "What's done is done. You did the right thing."
"Though maybe not the wise one." Sun mutters into his mug. But before you can question him on it he's looking over you to his counterpart. "I'm not helping you back if you drink yourself into a stupor."
Moon's eyes crinkle, resting his head on the back of his hand. "Aren't you such a good friend, Sunny?"
"We're not friends." He bites, looking away, cup creaking under the force his hands apply to it.
Moon must've not been expecting that response. His grin falters, then he tsks, facing forward and taking a long drink from his pint, setting it down again with a muted thud.
Silence. Then, a realization.
"Wait a moment." You lean around Sun easily this time. "Where's Bri?"
Sun hunches further over the bar. "Dancing. Left some time ago. While you were busy 'chatting'."
You glare at him at moment but say nothing more. You'll leave him to his brooding. You twist around to face the rest of the tavern, taking a moment then spying Bri among the dancing parties.
"Why that little—" You glance back between the two animatronics.
Of the two, Moon seems in higher spirits, contently musing over his drink now. You'll take your chances on him, then.
You stand, grabbing his hand. "Come on."
"You want to dance?" He sets the mug down, surprised, but stands up.
You start dragging him out to the floor. "Hardly. I want to give her 'what for' for abandoning me, but it's a partner dance and I don't want to make a scene." You turn back to him for a moment. "That a good enough reason?"
His faceplate clicks, then his surprise turns to his normal grin, snickering. "Enough for me."
"Good."
The two of you integrate into the group seamlessly. You've never been much of a dancer, but despite this, the two of you move well together. It's some jovial, upbeat, song, and you fall in step together well. Despite being much taller—and you think maybe just a tad tipsy—Moon makes a good partner. You enjoy it more than you were expecting to.
However, you remember your goal again when Bri dances by you, not a care in the world. You make eye contact and she grins at you, speaking just above the music.
"Look at you! Thought you weren't the dancing type."
You scowl. "I'm not. You left me!"
A spin about the room, then returning to your original positions.
"Oh, you were fine. I left you in good hands." She nods to Moon. "Isn't that right?"
He nods. "Indeed."
"Of course he's going to agree with you!" You huff, then shake your head. "I'll forgive you if we can finish our earlier conversation."
"Right now?" She asks and you nod. She's not even surprised, just protests. "But I'm dancing!"
You open your mouth to respond, but before you get the chance you're spun away again. You curse under your breath, glaring up to your dance partner.
"I wasn't finished." You state.
Moon bends so you're a little more eye to eye. "I know. But this isn't the time or place."
Your frown deepens. "Just how much did you hear—"
Moon takes the lead. Or at least, more so than before. The two of you begin to dance faster, grander, more elaborate. You can hardly keep up.
One moment you're on the outer edge of the circle of dancers, but now find yourself front and center, some space having been cleared out for the two of you to take the stage. The musicians begin to pick up pace to match your energy and you can't do anything more than focus on not making a fool of yourself. Much less think.
You're about to be protest being tossed around like a ragdoll when Moon spins you back into his chest, leaning down for a moment.
"Let go and let yourself enjoy the moment." He mutters, then spins you back to face him. "For once, don't worry about anyone but yourself. Please."
The sincerity in his tone makes you hesitate. Something about it striking a familiar chord. So, you relent, relaxing and letting the song take you.
Keeping up becomes easy after that. Simple. A smile growing on your face as you take joy in seeing if the animatronic can now keep up with you. And as he picks you up for a final spin you feel something you haven't for a long time. A sense of happiness you rarely feel these days. It's in that aftermath while people are cheering all around you that your eyes meet with a face watching you from the bar.
Sun's glare is scorching, posture far too relaxed for the frown he's wearing beneath that hardened gaze. Your eyes meet and your stomach twists. Triggering some long forgotten memory with faces you can't recall and names that are still deeply buried.
When you escape it, shaking your head to move it back to the recesses of your mind, you see he's facing away again, ordering another drink.
Had you been paying closer attention you'd have realized he was watching the entire time.
"Are you alright?" Moon asks and you look back to him You envy the fact that he's not out of breath like you. "I apologize. I suppose I got a bit carried away for a moment."
You take a few deep breaths, nodding. "Fine. Just next time? Ask before assuming I can keep pace."
"Won't need to." He says, leading you off the floor as another song picks back up. "Now I know your tempo."
The night ends for you sometime after that. You'd not intended to be out very long in the first place. And with those damn guards seeming hellbent on keeping you from talking to Bri—even while intoxicated themselves—there was no point to you lingering any longer.
So, you say your goodbyes and leave the tavern, heading home. Your head hurts, either from the stress of today, or the stress for tomorrow, and maybe because of that last pint you chose to chug before leaving. Who's to say, really?
You're ever so curious to what's happening up in that castle, now more so than ever. While there's nothing you could do about it, you can't help but be concerned for what it all might mean. Not to mention, another child went missing this evening. Just before dusk this time. If your shop hadn't been flooded with spectators you'd have volunteered yourself, instead of just letting part of your crew go.
You think it may very well have been haunting you since, hence your insistence to ask about the damage to the animatronics. It was a distractor, a way to keep your mind from wandering and fretting over the what ifs. You shake away said with ifs right then and there, your siblings are safe. And you'll do everything in your power to keep it that way.
The crunch in the snow behind you alerts you to the fact you're being followed. It's late, and you have another few streets to traverse before you can get home. So, you stop. Reaching down as if to tie your boot but in reality are grabbing your knife. It's not much, but it'll get the job done when needed. And you're hoping it's not needed.
Slipping it into your sleeve, you stand up and turn around. "May I help you—you're joking."
"You're the joke if you thought you were going to walk home alone, Bright Eyes." Sun stands behind you, his tone not being nearly as intimidating as he thinks he's being with that slight sway to his stance.
You scoff. "Some good you'll be. I can handle myself just fine, Pretty Bot." You feel your brows shoot up at that, likely matching the look on Sun's own features you're guessing.
He relaxes quicker than you though. "You think I'm pretty? How sweet."
"Don't start. It was merely a slip of the tongue." You scowl, but take his hand when he offers it. The nickname troubles you. But you're too distracted by him leaning down into your field of view to think on it further.
His gaze is half-lidded again, lazy. But you can still sense a sharp wit about him. "From my understanding, drinking makes you more honest, not less."
"Then I'll be blunt with you and say it was meant to be taken as an insult, how's that?" You say, marching forward finally. It's cold out here and you don't have time for his, whatever this is.
A pause as he thinks on it, nothing but the sound of your combined footsteps in the snow.
"Hurtful, but I won't hold it against you for suddenly becoming bashful."
You huff. "That's not—"
You're cut off as Sun suddenly spins you around and into a dip, bending low.
"Don't you dare drop me." You warn. Though his grip on your hand and back are firm, secure.
He tuts. "Oh, let me have this, won't you?" He mutters something you can't quite catch, almost seeming to be staring through you before setting you upright again. Starting to walk again without another word. You call it a bit of drunken foolishness and let it go.
The streets are eerily quiet the closer you get to home. Of course, off in the distance behind you the noises of the night market still flit about. But down the road you're traveling it's nearly dead silent. It holds a peace that soothes you and your worries.
Temporarily.
"You shouldn't have accepted that invitation today."
You look up to the sunny bot, brow raised. "And I suppose you believed I had much a choice in the matter?"
"You didn't." He shakes his head.
You scoff. "Then what should I have done then? I shouldn't have accepted but I had no other choice."
"The castle is no place for someone like you."
Your eyes narrow. "Because I'm a commoner?"
Sun stops, turning to face you. Both hands take your shoulders as he bends so you're eye to eye.
"Because they'll eat you alive."
You swallow, frown deepening. "You're a big help now, aren't you? Appreciate the vote of confidence." You shrug yourself out of his grip, marching on without him.
"Wait, that's not—" There's static for a moment and he rushes to catch up with you, almost falling in step quickly with his longer legs. "Please, forgive my wording, Celeste. I'm not the most fluent at the moment."
You huff. "Yeah I can tell—What did you just call me?"
"I, I'm only—" He doesn't get to finish, as right when he manages to catch up with you again, he slips on a nonvisible patch of ice, falling back into the snow.
When you turn to look back at him, his eyes wide, you see a slight fear in his eyes at your still hardened glare. But the ridiculousness of the situation and how overtly frazzled he looks for the first time ever, makes your burst out laughing. You clutch your stomach and throw your head back, not a care in the world for who may hear you.
It takes you several moments to calm down enough to lower your volume to quiet giggling, looking back to him with tears in your eyes.
"I, I haven't laughed that hard in years. Thank you."
You see his rays spin, able to do so with his hat lying abandoned in the snow. Then, he shakes his head, grumbling as he tries to collect himself to stand.
"Here, take my hand you drunken klutz,"—you extend it down to him, giggling again while he looks for his hat—"Behind you, Pretty Bot."
He twists around, grabs it, and before you can think further his free hand grips your own, and pulls you down with him. Your eyes widen, stumbling and falling on top of him, your knees landing hard on the packed snow around his torso.
"Ow." You groan, looking down for a moment, before glancing back up to tell him off. "Was that really necessary—" You cut yourself off, you weren't expecting to be just inches apart.
His hand comes up to hold your cheek, eyes focused intensely on you. "Yes. Definitely."
You just stare at each other for a moment, well, you more so at him. It finally clicks what he's looking at when his thumb swipes over your lips. Your cheeks start to burn and you cough.
"Your hand's cold. And my knees hurt. So I'm getting up now."
You don't have to shift out of his grip, he release you himself, hand letting go as if he'd been burnt. He keeps that same troubled look on his face as you both stand up and start walking again. At this rate you'll be surprised if you ever get home.
But, you finally turn the corner for your street soon enough, the pull of being in your bed growing stronger by the minute.
"What did you mean that you hadn't laughed that hard in years?" Sun asks in the quiet.
You shove your hands deeper in your pockets, looking to the ground. "What did you mean by 'they'll eat you alive'?"
Silence.
"You first."
You scoff, but relent. "I'd say it was the grief, but that's only been a year or so." You shake your head. "I lost a part of myself to someone, a long time ago. They took my laughter with them." Your hand comes up to your necklace gripping it tight before releasing it. "Your turn."
"The two you ran into on the street last week are nothing in comparison to actual nobility. They see everyone around them as lesser, including those at the same or higher ranking to them. And I fear should you attend in three week's that we won't—" Sun falters, shrinking in on himself. "That I won't, be able to protect you."
You mull over his words. "Who cares?"
"Pardon?" He looks over to you, drawn out of his thoughts.
You stop walking, turning to him and poking a finger into his chest. "Why would anyone care what happens to me, especially you? You hardly know me."
"Hardly know you—" He stands straight now, towering over you. "Why do you have such a lack of care for yourself? And why would time matter so much regarding whether I care for your safety or don't? I—let me ask you, that child that went missing yesterday, or the one today, do you have any connection to them?"
You shake your head. "None at all."
"And yet, you went searching for them last night, and would have tonight as well had you been able to, no?"
"Of course. Without question." You shrug. "What's your point?"
Sun stares at you a moment, then laughs, bringing his hand up to his faceplate and gripping one of the rays at the top of his head. "You've answered your own question, Celeste. And mine." He shakes his head, looking back to you. "Do your knees still hurt?"
"Terribly. Thanks a lot."
He nods. "Thought so. My apologies, allow me to remedy it." Before you can think, he's scooping you up, one arm under the back of your thighs, the other your shoulders as he carries you bridal style the rest of the way to your home.
Flustered, you allow it to happen, assuming he'll set you down once you get to the door.
"Do you have your key?" He asks, not setting you down.
"I, it's unlocked."
He nods, taking a moment to open it and then bending his head to step inside. He locks the door for you, then turns around with you still in his arms. Seems he was serious about this.
Your living room is quiet, dark, and you spare a glance at Clara asleep on the couch as Sun takes muted steps back through to your kitchen, then up your stairs when you point to them.
"You have a lovely home." He murmurs when he reaches the top.
"Thanks." You whisper back. "My room's at the end of the hall, but stop in the nursery for a moment."
Sun obeys, allowing you to peek in and see that Gabe and Lisa are both sound asleep. You feel lighter as Sun walks the remaining way to your room. He sets you on the bed, stepping back once he does so. The comfort of your bed underneath you almost makes you want to flop back then and there to sleep, but you resist the urge and take off your shoes and coat.
You get up and walk past Sun to set them by your bedroom door, snatching up your sleepwear as you do so. You walk back and around to the opposite side of the bed, staring at him as he simply looks on.
You make a circle motion with your finger. "You mind turning around? I don't have one of those fancy room dividers."
His rays spin again, hat tight in his hands. "Oh! Um, sorry. I should, leave." He turns to go. "Have a good night—"
"Stay." You just manage to snatch his wrist, having had to climb up onto the bed and reach out for him.
He glances back to you, eyes wide.
You shake your head. "It's late, it's cold, and I doubt you have enough of your wits about you to make it back to where you belong alive. Not after you're little spill earlier." You chuckle, then nod. "It's fine. Stay."
His rays tick to the left a few times, then to the right. Then, he nods. "Okay."
You let him go, sitting back and he turns around once more, unmoving this time.
"The other two going to be alright without you?" You ask as you slip out of your clothes.
Sun nods. "I told Montgomery where we'd be earlier this evening. And Captain Perry is more than capable of handling her own." He chuckles. "And her liquor. Of the two it would be Moon that would be of concern, but they'll be fine."
You snicker. "That's Bri for yah. And captain huh? She's been busy." You realize that your knife is missing, and you start looking around for it. "Shit, where did I put that..."
"You dropped this in the snow earlier." Sun holds up your knife, still facing away. "Such a large weapon for a small thing like you."
You scoff, climbing back over the bed to take it from him. "Hardly much at all. Do you consider everyone shorter than you to be 'a small thing'?"
He snatches your wrist then, turning slightly to face you. slight grin on his features. "Truthfully yes. But especially those who take more risks than they should, like an immature teenager."
"I'm two seconds away from headbutting you right in that smart mouth of yours." You mutter.
"Proving my point~"
You take your wrist, and your knife back. "You know. I could have still been half-dressed. Then you would've seemed like a creep just now instead of slightly humorous."
That stupes him. He stutters out a rebuttal as you set your knife on the nightstand on the left side of the bed, laying back on it a moment later.
"Well? Don't just stand there." You pat the bed beside you. "You're sleeping in here so I can keep an eye on you."
It takes him a moment, then he sits down with a tsk. "I have no reason to harm anyone in this house."
"I have no reason to trust your words."
Sun removes his boots, then reaches up to unbutton his coat, revealing a white undershirt soon thereafter. "You trust me in your home but you don't trust the things I say?"
"Action speak louder than words." You quip as he folds the coat, setting it on the end of bed with his hat. The last thing he removes is the claw from his index finger, setting it on the nightstand on his side. "Not the gloves?"
"You wouldn't like my hands." He says, laying down, then turning over to face you.
You remember the feeling of that claw on your face earlier in the night. You wonder what's so wrong with his hands if he believes they're any worse than that.
"You're bed is small."
You huff. "It's not built for nine foot tall animatronics, you mean."
"Just eight, though I know someone of your height and stature could hardly tell. The entire world must feel large to you." He snickers as you roll your eyes.
You feel bold, your last minute drink seeming to hit you now of all times. You grabbed his clothed shoulder, pulling him closer. "Then curl up a bit then. Make the most of the space."
Before he can protest, you reach down and pull his legs up, and then entangle with yours.
Seeing his wide-eyed, open-mouth stare you scoff, ignoring the heat on your cheeks. "What? You think you're the only man I've shared a bed with? Only person for that matter? I was stuck in the nursery with Lisa for seven years, and she is simultaneously a cuddler and a kicker."
"I, I s-see." Is his only response.
Now you can't ignore the burning across your face and ears. "It's only weird if you make it weird."
"Weird? I'm not making it weird, you're the one who's bringing it up!"
"Because you're giving me that look, stop it!" You hiss.
His hands come up and over his face, muttering something.
Your face is on fire now. "Since when are you bashful? Seriously, this is nothing—"
"Your knee, Celeste. For the love of the stars, move your knee." He manages to get out.
You glance down. "What—oh." You quickly pull it back towards your body. "Sorry."
"I can't understand you." He shakes his head, finally letting go of his face. "Not in the slightest bit."
"Maybe that's intentional." You chuckle as he scoffs.
Sun glances over to you again, resting one hand by his head. "You're incredibly smart and yet, so foolish. Selfless to a fault and again, foolish because of it. You cautious to trust anyone, and yet you'll invite them into your home and your bed, and then act as if it's nothing! I just, you're so confounding."
"Would you like to know a secret?" You ask in the quiet.
"I suppose I have nothing better to do."
You laugh softly. "I don't know why I do the things I do sometimes. Life's complex, it's made me complex. Even I can't wrap my head around it sometimes." You shake your head, looking away for a moment then back. "There's just, something about you that made me decide you should stay. And that's all there is to it."
Sun nods after a moment or two. Then—
"That's a piss poor answer, Bright Eyes."
The days that follow are filled with you doing your best to evade the two animatronic guards. Not because of what happened that night with either of them, though. Rather, you're trying to find out what's happening to their compatriots after your tip from Bri.
It's nothing more than a curiosity at first, but it occurs to you that they're actively trying to stop you from investigating further. Which only serves to take your curiosity to genuine interest, then to zealous inquisitiveness that almost starts to eat away at you a bit. Every nook and cranny you seek to turn over, they're there to lead you away or distract in some manner from it. The elephant in the room has doubled in size, and it's only a matter of time before it breaks through the floorboards, sending you all tumbling down.
Not to mention, every night, like clockwork, there's a report of another missing child. The total number having grown to six. Everyone's in a panic, and very little can be done to soothe the worries of those who are fortunate enough to still have all their children accounted for. Yourself included.
Despite their overall annoying presence the past week, you cannot deny that you do feel safer having one of them nearby while you go to and fro with your siblings in tow.
There's something going on here, and you don't know the connection point but something has to be related between all of this, there's no way there isn't some link. The disappearances started occurring after the festival began, and Bri told you there wasn't these glitches happening back in the capital. But what relation the two have to each other, you don't know.
And how the two guards watching your every move fit into it, you couldn't make sense of that in the slightest.
"Musing to yourself, Diana?"
"Something like that." You mutter into your cup.
You were sitting on a bench near the grand tree in the town square. Lisa had asked you if you could visit the festival again today, and needing a bit of break yourself—for more reasons than one—you agreed.
Gabe's sitting on the ground beside you, playing in the snow, while Lisa dragged the sunnier of the two guards out to dance with her among the others gathered in the square. Though, he didn't seem to mind. To his credit, he had seemed to prove to you he was good with kids.
Moon as well, as he bends down to toss some snow on Gabe's legs. Your little brother giggling and smacking his gloved hands into it.
Moon sits up again, chuckling and nodding to your mug. "With how tightly your gripping that, I'd say you need something stronger."
"Shit. Sorry." You relax your hold.
He takes it from you, taking a drink himself. "No need to apologize to me. It's not my mug."
"There's just, a lot on my mind." You sigh and lay back against the bench. "Too many things happening in what's supposed to be a quiet village."
"A lot of them aren't your problem though, are they."
You scoff. "They are and they aren't. Your pals are coming in to me by the dozen daily. Can't help but wonder as to why. Because we both know there's more than just, glitches, happening."
"And why do you think that?" There's still a cheekiness to his tone, but there's an edge of something else underneath.
You look over to him. "Because neither of you have shown up once in over two weeks. I'm getting repeat customers by now, and yet, not a lick of damage to either one of you. I've been checking."
Moon stays quiet, but you hear the tiniest little creak on the mug. You continue. "And I think we both know this is past the point of coincidences. Wouldn't you say?"
He doesn't. He says nothing at all as he hands your mug back and you take another drink, downing the remaining warm liquid.
"And besides that, my bigger overall concern is keeping my siblings safe, first and foremost." You reach down and ruffle the hat on Gabe's head, eyes on Lisa as she spins about, not a care in the world. "I'm starting to worry about how well I'm able to do that."
You're surprised by a touch to your shoulder, jumping as you see Moon's much closer now.
With a tenderness you weren't expecting at that moment, his hand moves to your cheek, words murmured, but firm. "Nothing is going to happen to them. I won't allow it. We won't allow it."
"You can't guarantee me that." You counter.
"I can and I will. Rest assured, your siblings are safe, but if you keep up this meddling then—"
"Then what, Moon?" You feel your frustration rising again, but keep your voice even. "What do you know that you're so obviously hiding? What are you trying to keep me from finding out? Are you in on this? Should I be scared?"
This angers him, grip tightening just a tinge. "No, never! How could you think such a thing?"
"You haven't give me much reason to think otherwise based on your actions—ah!" You jump, pulling back after feeling a sting against your cheek. Reaching up, you touch the spot, pulling away to see a small speck of blood.
Looking over to Moon, he's horrified, eyes wide as he stares at your hand.
"Selene I—" He reaches out for you, then sees the claw and buries his hand against himself. "I'm so sorry."
You put your hand to the spot again, an even smaller drop appearing on your finger. It was just a prick. A tiny one. You relax. "It's fine. You hadn't meant to."
"That's no excuse." He searches around, finding a handkerchief on his person and handing it to you.
You wave him away. "There's no need for that—"
He takes your hand, setting the cloth in it and folding your fingers around it. "Take it. Please." He squeezes your hand gently before letting go.
You raise the handkerchief to your cheek, holding it there for a moment before pulling away. However, Moon insists you keep it there for longer, pressing his own hand against the back of yours for a bit to ensure you do.
"I apologize for accusing you. It was wrong of me." You say, watching the dancers once more.
Moon chuckles, it's half-hearted. "You have a right to be suspicious. I understand."
"That's no excuse." You repeat his words from earlier, glancing back to him with a small smile.
It takes him a moment, then he laughs again, more genuine this time.
"Hey! Time's up!"
Both of you turn to see Lisa standing in front of you, hands on her hips.
You raise a brow. "Time's up for what?"
"It's my turn to hang out with Mr. Moon!" She says, huffing. "He promised he'd help me build a snowman for the competition!"
Moon laughs, standing up. "I was going to keep my promise. But I didn't want to interrupt your dancing."
Your sister turns to you pointing at you, then behind her. "It's your turn to dance with Mr. Sun."
"I, what?" You ask. "Lisa I'm not—"
She grabs your free hand, pulling on you with a strength no eight year old should have. "Hurry up! He's going to look silly if he doesn't have a partner when the next song starts!"
"Go on, I'm more than capable of watching them both." Moon urges and helps you to your feet. "Allow me the chance to prove that I mean what I say. If you may."
You glance back to him for a moment, then over to where Sun stands, sending you a wave with a mischievous glint in his eye. He did this on purpose. You turn back to Moon with a nod, offering him back his handkerchief, he shakes his head.
"Keep it. I have no need for it."
You nod again, stuffing it in your pocket and looking down to your sister. You flick her forehead and she protests, releasing you finally. You bend down to her height, stern. "Have fun, but behave." You ruffle her hand and stand up again. "Love you."
She grumbles out a 'Love you too' and runs over to Moon, who picks up your brother. You give them a final wave goodbye as you walk over to where Sun stands, hands behind his back, grin as wide as ever.
"You're not clever." You quip.
He rolls on the balls of his feet, then offers his hand to you with a bow. "And you, owe me a dance."
"Keeping score are you?" You take his hand and he leads you into a spin amongst the other dancers. "I'd say you're well ahead if that's the case."
Much like his counterpart, he dances well, leading you effortlessly through the song. "Ah, ah. Let's keep that little bit of information to ourselves, shall we? We wouldn't want the wrong people to hear about it."
You laugh, shocked. "And you're cheating! My, my. I took you for a lot of things, a cheater wasn't one of them."
"Cheating implies I've done something unfair, but is it unfair if he was doing it first?"
"'He started it!'" You mock. "That's you, that's what you sound like."
Sun hums, but you see that small twitch in his eye that makes you grin.
"You're better at this than I'd thought you be." He examines.
You huff. "I take it back. Now you're losing severely."
"That's not up to you to decide." He thinks for a moment. "But if it was, are you say, open to bribery?"
You laugh outright, and shake your head. Maybe Moon was on to something when he said you should just let go when you dance. Let it take your worries away for a while and just enjoy the moment.
Because wow, if it isn't something when you do.
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
And to think, we still have four more chapters :D Just you wait, it gets so much worse. (for you. me personally? having the time of my life)
Well, thanks for reading!
Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info, you can also dm me!):
@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay
Bonus:
I left it up to fate that Sun would spend the night, like deadass (proof below)
So you can thank the wheel for that.
Buuuuttt I have another thing I'm debating (not nearly as intimate don't get getting ideas on me now) So,
What this was for will be revealed in the next chapter, and your implicit biases WILL be shown and i WILL tease you all for it /j
#fnaf dca#dca fandom#fnaf daycare attendant#fnaf sun#fnaf moon#dca fic#x reader#HS! au#holiday spirit au#yes i let the robots drink bc i thought it would be very funny#next question#yeah you in the back#“does that mean we can smooc-”#yes it means you can smooch the robots#that doesn't mean you WILL tho#not yet#“did we smooch the robot-”#what happened in that bedroom is between you sun and god#(decide for yourself)#i'll be taking further questions in the reblogs thank you very much
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Rhysand & Cassian & Azriel X OC
Hello, here is the chapter 23 of a fanfiction on the world of Acotar where our three favorite Batboys are the mates of a single woman.
TW for this chapters : Violence, blood, vomit. Be careful to what you read not to put yourself in a bad mood. Take care of yourself. ❤️❤️❤️❤️
I hope you'll enjoyed the chapters ! Don't hesitate to tell me what you think about it, please ! Also, I am apologizing again for the late.
I have exams coming so I think I will not be able to post more than once a week but I will try my best ! The next chapter or chapters will be out on Friday, January 10 !
! Don't forget to read the previous chapters ! : Here
Love you all ! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
Chapter 23
After what seemed like long minutes, Luxiana was finally regaining sensation and control over her senses. "That was incredible," she managed to articulate in a tired voice even inside her skull.
The smiles of the three Illyrians reappeared as they cast tender glances at her. "I want to do it again," she added suddenly with a cute pout. The dark-haired Illyrians lost their smile. Azriel grunted through clenched teeth. He thought she was perfect. Cassian looked up at the ceilling, trying to keep his excitement from exploding. But Rhysand didn't even try to stop what he felt, way too much aroused by what just happened with their mate. He got to his feet, dragging Luxiana with him.
He wanted to wear her, but he couldn't. Not here, not in front of these Fae. If they suspected that he liked Luxiana, they might come after her, and she was only a fragile human. He didn't want to take that risk. He placed her gently on her feet. "Can you walk?" he asked her worriedly.
Luxiana nodded with a gentle smile.
"Great," added Cassian with a seductive air but rapid breathing, "because we're going to have to run to a room so we can make you something a little more... better."
Azriel grabbed Luxiana by the hand to pull her towards the door, and Rhysand and Cassian followed. "We have to leave," Rhys simply justified to the Fae present and to Mor's father.
Keir, feeling unrespected, wasted no time in replying with a grimace of disgust aimed at Rhys. "I didn't expect anything else anyway, you seemed to have a pronounced taste for fucking instead of taking care of your court like the whore you are."
The four of them froze a few steps in front of Mor's father.
Azriel and Cassian were boiling with anger. How dare that filthy rat talk about their brother like that after he had sacrificed himself to save his court. Cassian took a threatening step towards Keir, ready to fight, but Rhysand raised his hand to stop him.
The high lord, though electrocuted t by a mixture of anger, guilt and bad memories tried to keep a cool head. "Let's calm down, it's nothing. It doesn't matter, we mustn't let them understand that it does," he thought to calm them.
Cassian didn't move any further, although he was dying to. Rhysand gave Keir a dark look of warning. "That's because this court isn't worth it. But don't forget who you're talking to Keir, next time you open your mouth without permission, I'll shut it."
Keir gritted his teeth but nodded in resignation before lowering his head.
Rhysand moved to get around him, but Luxiana grabbed him by the arm to stop him. Rhysand turned to face her. Her eyes were wide and her brows furrowed, but a burning rage smoked inside her pupils with such violence that the three Illyrians recoiled at the sight. "Aren't you going to do anything? Are you going to let him talk to you like that?" she asked, almost shouting into Rhys's head.
Rhysant was at first pleased for a second that she felt such anger for him before pulling himself together and replying. "It doesn't matter."
Luxiana released him, dropping her arm limply to her side and lifting her chin. "It does to me." Rhysand widened his eyes but had no time to say anything as Luxiana added, "I guess I'll have to do something myself then."
Without anyone being able to do anything about it, and with lightning speed, Luxiana grabbed Truth Teller out of his scabbard on Azriel's thigh. Then, in the blink of an eye, she stood in front of Keir to thrust her hand into his mouth, grab his tongue, pull it out and slice it at the base with a sharp, precise stab.
Mor's father - who had barely had time to take a step backwards and raise his hands to stop Luxiana - widened his eyes, screaming his head off in pain as he fell to his knees on the floor.
The three Illyrians hiccupped in surprise as they reflexively took a step forward towards Luxiana to protect her, but stopped mid-stride, opening their mouths and eyes wide. They were paralyzed with shock as their pupils focused on their mate, who held Keir's tongue at the top of her fingertips.
A general exclamation of surprise went up in the assembly of Fae, most of whom were clapping their hands over their mouths in fright.
What Luxiana thought was Mor's mother ran closer, shouting Keir's name. Luxiana raised the knife towards her, giving her a cold, creepy look that immobilized the fae from head to toe. "Come any closer and I'll cut your tongue out next."
Mor's mother cast a horrified glance at Rhysand. "Are you going to let her do this?
Rhysand didn't even calculate her, far too surprised by his soulmate's cold, psychopathic expression. He'd never seen her like this and he hadn't even considered for a second that she could do this. Their sweet Luxiana. He blinked several times to compose himself, but the blonde moved.
She tilted her head with a smile, making her look even crazier. "Who do you think gave me the order to do this? I'm only the executor of your lord's orders. So the next time, chew your words before you disrespect Rhysand." Another hiccup of surprise echoed through the room.
The three Illyrians, if that was possible, widened their eyes even more. She'd just said Rhys was controlling her. She was doing all this to save his honor. They couldn't believe it. They couldn't even think straight.
Luxiana laughed wildly. "By the way," she leaned forward towards Keir to run her index and middle fingers under his chin in an attempt to raise his head. The fae glared darkly at her first, then became white as he saw the cold pupils filled with power of the blonde. "You didn't chew your words enough before you spoke..." She brought the tip of Keir's tongue up to his nose. "You must fix that, right ?" She let go of his chin to stand up and vulgarly throw her tongue tip in front of him. "Chew!" she ordered curtly.
"What?" shouted Mor's mother as she took a step forward, but an umpteenth cold look from Luxiana dissuaded her from continuing.
Luxiana returned her eyes to Keir to look at him. "I said chew you fucking tongue and don't make me repeat myself."
A gleam of rage exploded in the fae's eyes. He deployed his power to shatter that pitiful human's neck, but he couldn't do it. His power wasn't working. His power was completely stuck, as if completely asleep. He glanced at his lord. Had he blocked his powers? Yet Rhysand didn't even look at him, just stared at the blonde strangely. Keir wanted to destroy this human. He jumped to his feet, screaming strangely, to throw himself, hand first, at her and snap her neck with his own fingers.
Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel managed to take their eyes off their mate to put them on Keir and when they saw him rise to his feet and lunge at Luxiana, they gasped. The three of them were about to intervene, but before they'd even had time to move a muscle, their Luxiana grabbed one of Keir's wrists, went underneath and went behind him. She gave a swift, sharp kick to his bent knee, forcing him to fall to the ground. Using her grip on his wrist, she pulled him backwards, catched him by the shoulder to deliver a shin kick to his arm, which snapped in two with a horrible sound. Two pieces of bone ended up going out from the skin of the fae's arm, which had taken on an odd angle.
The three Illyrians recoiled in disbelief. What she had just done was a professional fighting technique.
Keir screamed, but Luxiana wasn't done yet -without letting go of his wrist- she grabbed the piece of tongue on the floor and swung it into the mouth of the fae, who cried out in pain with his eyes closed.
Feeling his own tongue in his mouth, the fae widened his eyes and wanted to spit it out, but Luxiana pressed her palm against his jaw to close it savagely and snap his teeth. She locked his lips with her hand while keeping his jaws closed with her index finger and thumb under his chin.
When Keir tried to move and struggle, Luxiana's grip on his wrist twisted his arm a little more, awakening the pain of his broken bone. "Keep moving and I'll break the other arm."
The fae stood still, trembling with fear. Luxiana smiled creepily. "Good, now, chew!" Her voice was cold and filled with disgust and hatred.
The three Illyrians didn't recognize her.
Azriel was so shocked that he didn't know what to do or how to react. Had she really just done that? Was she really doing this?
Rhysand’s heart was pounding hardly in his chest. The way she talks coldly. The way she seemed so powerful and confident. She was incredibly hot.
Cassian took a step to the side to get a better look at his soulmate's face -on which Keir's red cell had splattered- and his blood migrated back to his penis. She was incredibly sexy. Her gaze was cold, sure, authoritative. She looked strong and powerful. Cassian's eyes lit up and his heart began to beat with admiration in his chest. No, not admiration, love.
Keir pleaded with his eyes, shaking his head in the negative. This answer did not please Luxiana who straightened up and suddenly kicked his forearm with her foot, breaking the bone there this time. The fae screamed as loud as he could with Luxiana's hand over his mouth. "I said chew,"she repeated.
Keir began to cry, trembling all over as he began to chew his own tongue. He vomited several times into his mouth, but he couldn't let anything out because of the blonde's hand clamped to his lips. "Good boy," she smiled. "Now swallow."
Keir swallowed his tongue with difficulty, his body shaking with the contractions of his stomach. Luxiana couldn't hide her smile at the satisfaction she felt. After waiting for a few seconds for his tongue to fall down entirely into his stomach, she released him.
Keir bent over to puke out all his guts, almost choking on his own vomit.
Luxiana took a step back, detailing him from her height. Then when he finished, she grabbed his hair to lift his head toward her. "You'll never disrespect your lord again, will you?"
He nodded in confirmation, tears rolling down his cheeks. Luxiana released him abruptly before straightening up to spin around and shoot all the other faes present with her pupils. "Does anyone have anything else to say about Rhysand?"
They all shook their heads and took several steps backwards. Then, all at once, Luxiana lost her cold, dark and crazy expression. "Great then," she jumped out of joy, smiling sweetly and innocently. She ran slowly towards Azriel -still motionless- to replace Truth Teller in its scabbard. Then she turned to Rhysand to wrap her arms on one of his and pull him out.
Cassian detailed Keir's bleeding body on the floor, grinning through his teeth. He glanced back at Luixiana, who was leading Rhysand to the door. "Woah," he managed to say in their minds. Then he began to follow her cheerfully.
Azriel followed them, walking robotically, staring into space. What had just happened?
They left the room and after a few minutes of walking, Rhysand blinked to compose himself. Realizing everything, he paralyzed, coming to a standstill in one of the long corridors. "What just happened?" he shouted breathlessly, lowering his pupils to Luxiana.
Luxiana wanted to continue pulling Rhysand but he stopped moving and she could feel the other two stop just behind them, giving her the same shocked look that burned her skin. She closed her eyes fiercely as she let go of Rhysand and gritted her teeth. "I'm not going to apologize, okay?" she shouted a little angrily.
She let go of Rhys to take a few steps forward, turning towards them and positioning herself in front of them. She crossed her arms, glowering at the lord. "You're the high lord of the night court, you can't let someone disrespect you like that!"
Rhysand widened his eyes again but Luxiana continued. "You may consider yourself mature and reasonable and kind enough not to react but not me dammit. I'm the exact opposite of that and there was no way I was going to let anyone talk to you like that, Rhys, not after what you've been through under the mountain!"
The blonde, seeing Rhys's surprised expression, thought it was sadness shining in his pupils. She huffed as she calmed down, feeling suddenly guilty and showing it on her face. She made an adorable pout that made the Illyrians hallucinate. Her face was so childlike and different from the one she'd had a few seconds ago in the throne room.
"I'm sorry," she finally mumbled, lowering her eyes as she juggled from one foot to the other. "It's just that I told you I'd protect you and not let anyone talk bad about you since you saved Feyre under the mountain and now I want to protect you too because I like you and I know I couldn't keep my cool but I was so..."
Something exploded in Rhysand's chest, sending vibrations of joy throughout his being and even warming his eyes. He didn't even let her finish her sentence as he cupped his soulmate's face to raise her head to him. "What did you just say?"
Luxiana accentuated her guilty pout when she saw Rhysand's even brighter eyes. She'd hurt him and she didn't mean to. "I said I was sorry and that..."
Rhysand shook his head to interrupt. "No, you said you liked me!"
Luxiana pursed her lips, drawing out her dimples. She looked away for a second, blushing. "Yes.. Why ?" she admitted, not understanding why he was asking her that. Was he going to make fun of her?
Rhysand let out a delighted laugh in one breath before throwing himself on Luxiana to kiss her full on the lips. Luxiana, not expecting it, hiccuped in surprise as she allowed Rhysand to put his tongue into her mouth. She didn't wait to return his kiss, which tickled her to the core.
Rhysand pulled away from her to stare at her with a big smile and eyes shining with playfulness and confidence. "So you like me." Rhysand wanted to jump for joy.
Luxiana bit her tongue as she backed away from his grip and gave him a jaded look.
Azriel came back to reality, shaking his head, his eyes still wide. "Does it surprise anyone but me that she just cut out Keir's tongue and fed it to him after breaking his arm?" he shouted in total shock.
"No, it surprised me too," Cassian said seriously, crossing his arms and then glaring at Luxiana. "But damn, that was sexy."
Luxiana laughed, lowering her head to hide her cheeks. Why was she blushing so much with them?
Azriel moves around Rhys to stand in front of Luxiana. He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger to plunge a serious, wary gaze into his soul mate's. "How did you do that? You just made a fae eat his own tongue without batting an eyelid."
Luxiana winced, blushing from head to toe. She felt so small and intimidated by Azriel. "Believe it or not," she began in a voice more high-pitched and uncertain than usual, "but, this isn't my first cut tongue and broken arm."
Azriel frowned, prompting him to elaborate. "Well, I worked in a bar. There were bound to be people with inappropriate behavior that I had to correct." She shrugged as if this were normal.
"And where did you learn to do that?" the Illyrian asked, loosening his grip on Luxiana's chin a little, relaxing when he noticed she wasn't lying.
"Keydan explained how to do it and taught me. He wanted me to be able to protect myself if need be."
Azriel understood her sincerity and released her completely, but he couldn't calm his anger. "It was still a dangerous and thoughtless thing to do, Luxiana. I don't know why Keir didn't use his powers, but if had, you could have been hurt or worse, died. Don't ever do that again!"
Luxiana pursed her lips with an apologetic look and a cute, guilty face that made Azriel swallow hard. "Are you angry?" She stepped forward to surround her arms around the master spy's torso and buried her face in his pectoral. Azriel froze for a second, feeling his heart melt entirely as she straightened her head to rest just her chin on his chest and look at him with an adorable pout. "Excuse me," she added.
Azriel's whole body tickled from the inside. He could only calm himself by taking a deep breath. Why was he even angry? He placed a hand on the blonde cheek to lean in and place a long kiss on her lips. Damn it, there was no doubt in his mind. He loved this woman with all his body and all his heart.
Footsteps behind them forced them to separate and turn to see Mor striding in their direction. Luxiana hiccupped in surprise at the sight of Rhys's cousin, then winced with concern as she realized that she had just seen her cut her father's tongue out in front of her. "Mor, I'm sorry," she apologized, taking a step toward her. "I shouldn't have..."
She couldn't finish her sentence as Rhys's cousin threw herself into her arms to hug her with all her might. "I adore you. God, that feels good!"
Luxiana was surprised at first, but then laughed with Mor and returned his hug.
Rhysand detailed his soul mate laughing with her cousin, then glanced knowingly at his two brothers. She wasn't as weak as they thought, and in fact she was incredible. She'd done all this to protect his honor. To protect him. She was made to be his high lady. She was made for him. He stared at her and it wasn't with tenderness or affection but with love. He was in love with this woman, damn it.
#a court of thorns and roses#acomaf#acotar#acowar#azriel#rhysand#cassian#rhysand x oc#cassian x oc#azriel x oc#azriel spymaster#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#cassian acotar#high lord rhysand#rhysand acotar#acotar fanfic#acotar fanfiction#rhysand & cassian & azriel x oc
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2024 fandom review
thank you for the tag @nerdyfangirl76 and @almostlake 💜
warning: this got really long
fics written
in 2024, i posted 3 finished fics and one currently on-going WIP. in total that was 122,542 words and i keep looking at that number in complete disbelief.
i started the year by saying, multiple times, i'm not going to write anything because it's been nearly a decade since i wrote for fun. then i had an idea and was all "well, maybe if i wrote this one short thing, posted it and then dipped never to be seen again". insert my friend laughing at me at regular intervals because we all know that's not what happened.
always losing to win is very dear to me, for several reasons, and it'll never stop blowing my mind how many people have read it and been on that journey with me.
fics read
my AO3 history is about 300 fics, but i did not sort out my logins until months into the year, so the actual number is probably somewhere closer to 350.
i tried to pick a few favourite fics i read and limiting myself to just these is hard. i regret to say none of these have received the praise, comments and love from me that they deserve, because it took me months to get over my comment shyness. but i hope this makes up for it a bit. (new year's resolution: more comments for everyone.) in alphabetical order by title:
almost is never enough by @in-amor-veritas
there's a scene in this with kent's 747 that i have the strongest, plot-wise most insignificant headcanon about and i think about it every time i hear the song. which is often. and then i end up thinking about the whole story.
another dose by stargazers
it's such a beautiful version of wilmon, because it's so them. and it's hot.
chasing our sunlight by fitz_y
if there ever was a fic that lives rent free in my head, it's this. the way it deals with so many heavy topics has made me cry, but it's such an incredibly crafted story i come back to it often.
forever i'm yours by @goldenwilmon
the way the fall in love in this one? hands down one of my favourites ever. whenever i need some fluff and happiness in my life, this is the one i go for.
little light by @unfortunate17
possibly one of the first, if not the first, wilmon fic i read in 2024. it broke something in me, but also healed something in me.
reckless abandon by @zee-has-commitment-issues
i absolutely love the concept and the way all the characters are so well-rounded. one of the fics i could not stop reading and can't wait to read again.
so loaded, eye low by @enjoythesilentworld
the chemistry, the angst. the sweet, delicious angst. and hot as hell.
where be left off by @gulliblelemon
the best way for me to fight some physical pain? some emotional pain. and this one has it, in the best, most beautiful way. very few fics have i devoured like i did this one.
the wolf comes home by @phneltwrites
after months, i still keep thinking about a particular line in this one. the trauma aftermath, the way they deal with it. also my favourite established relationship wilmon.
looking forward to in 2025
i can't wait to read and see all the amazing fics and gifs and edits and everything this fandom comes up with. i already know there'll be so many wonderful things i'll enjoy.
as for my own writing, i'm trying to get a good chunk of hope and legacy written before the insanity that'll be my life from late january to the end of february. (no context chapter 4 spoiler: simon steals a flag.)
there is also in from the cold, the espionage AU i have about 10K written for - and that's barely the beginning. i don't know if it'll ever see the light of day, but i do love the concept and all the research i've done for it.
i have been thinking about space wilmon lately, and while i said i'm not going to go down that road myself, i did remember a few lines from record of a spaceborn few that may have sparked an idea. it might become something one day, or it might never be more than the few disjointed lines and ideas i have typed in my notes.
there's also a file with a list of songs that i might want to build stories around. in general i have a lot of ideas, but very few of them might become anything. i'd like to put it down as "english is not my first language so writing is slow" thing, and while it is that too, it's mostly me being a perfectionist and not able to let go. (which is why i should probably have a beta telling me 'this is fine, go post it'. if anyone feels up for doing that...)
the biggest, warmest thank you to everyone who's read anything i've written, left kudos or comments, sent messages, in any way engaged. it has made my year, and this fandom experience so special 💜
not tagging anyone, but if any of the authors i mentioned haven't done this yet and would like to, i'd love to read your reviews.
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── .✦ what if we never dated..? — i should've been with you.
really really long written chapter , short smau below ! warnings : angst !! i cried writing this.
AFTER THE FIGHT WE HAD , WE NEVER HAD THE GUTS TO EVER FACE EACH OTHER . EVERYTIME WE MADE EYE CONTACT , WE WOULD IGNORE EACH OTHER AND FACE AWAY .
if only i had the guts to apologise for shouting at you... if only chaer didn't get in the way of everything. but thanks to taesan, we did manage to talk it out, even tho it was super awkward. i did feel like jumping into your arms but, i stopped myself.
it's been a week since the trip and we hadn't contacted at all... yunah and eunseok were happily together, same with shotaro and moka.
"since when were you and gunwook close again..?" you pulled me by my arm as i looked behind. the urge i had to hug you tightly and wish it was all dream...
"he... apologised to me. and now we're talking as friends." i smiled awkwardly as he flashed gunwook one kind of a look. we were about to leave when he pulled my arm again.
"wait, yn... i have to tell you something." i crossed my arms, "what is it, leehan?"
"i'm moving to america." if only you knew how much you made me cry at home with that sentence alone. but the only thing i could do at the point was smile and wish you all the best.
i could barely sleep for nights, eventually had to call taesan and anton over with the girls for a sleepover. gunwook joined too, and that's when i realised why we weren't made for each other.
GUNWOOK : yeah lol she thinks i still like her, do i get my $1000 now?
CHAER : ugh just keep her distracted. leehan and i got his parents approval for an arranged marriage.
GUNWOOK : you better do this quick, it's bad enough i'm hurting her but she can't make a man happy at all.
i broke down into tears, screenshotting the chat and sending it to myself before waking gunwook up. oh, if only you could hear how upset i was.
i can't blame gunwook and i can't blame you neither can i blame chaer... it's all my fault in the end.
once it was morning, gunwook ran out of the house before any of the girls or guys woke up. i spent the whole day crying, arranged marriage? so he's... really taken now.
YN : sent a screenshot
LEEHAN : ☺️ now you know pretty.
LEEHAN : i'm sorry it had to be this way... i just never liked you at all yn, i was always waiting for chaer get out of a relationship and you just so reminded me of her lol
YN : huh... so you never liked me..?
LEEHAN : read up hm? you have a pretty smart brain, put two and two together :)
YN : fuck you kim donghyun.
you blocked this contact.
oh. that felt like a hard pang in the heart... i couldn't tell any of them about this, all of them were close to leehan. they even wished for him to come back as soon as possible... i would just be ruining my own friendship.
"you look disturbed these days. what's up, angel?" taesan asked as he leaned against my locker, eyes glued to his screen as his fingers moved rapidly.
"i'm just... tired really..! rumors here and there... head girl council things." i lied, well kinda.
"i'm not dumb, angel. i can see right through you. what's wrong?" taesan asked again as he turned off his phone and placed it in his pocket.
"i forgot that you're literal leehan 2.0. i'll be fine, don't worry. let's go to class?" i joked as he nodded, wrapping his arm around my shoulder as we walked to class.
oh yeah, taesan was always there for me. i always felt bad for him because i didn't even realise how much he liked me until the argument between leehan and i happened.
i had to find it out through yunah as well... she was taesan's wingwoman. i was always thankful for taesan but now that i knew his intentions behind his acts of kindness, i adored him.
he never gave up even tho i longed for leehan. that enough showed me how much he really likes me. he always helped me in classes, he talks with me about our problems.
"so what i'm hearing is.. leehan was playing with you?" taesan asked as i nodded slowly, tears running down my cheeks as he gave me tissues and tissues.
"what a bitch..." taesan cursed as a joke and i giggled, hitting his shoulder lightly.
"and gunwook.. was in it with chaer too. but i realised they didn't even have to plan anything because... leehan was already in love with chaer." i continued and eventually cried out loud.
taesan panicked and immediately rushed to my side on the bed, hugging my tightly as i cried on his leather jacket.
"that's what's been bothering me lately... i'm so... scared of love now." i hugged him tightly as he rubbed my back, "hey hey..." he said as he pulled away from the hug, holding me by my shoulders.
"that's part of love life, angel. you meet people who play with your feelings, people who love you as much as you love them, and just pure assholes. there are much more important things in life hm, angel? like that graduation and prom ceremony. i'll help you plan it out." taesan comforted as he wiped my tears away only for me to cry even more.
"now i've ruined your leather jacket...!" i cried out as he chuckled, "it's okay, it's okay..."
with the few days, taesan helped me cope very well surprisingly. he gave me new hobbies to try out, he brought me out on little dates, he even introduced me to his other friends and family members.
but despite all that, my schedule was still very packed with plannings. soon, prom was coming up and i had moka to run the confessions corner account once again.
"hey, angel. dinner at my mom's today?" taesan asked as i pouted, "i'm afraid not sanie... i have to complete my—"
"—your layout for prom? finished. your seating layouts? done. so! can we?" he asked with a tiny pout and a glint of happiness in his eyes.
i pinched his cheeks before giggling, "of course you big baby."
everytime we had dinner at taesan's, his parents would pamper. his father always went on work trips outside of korea and would always bring me souvenirs, big or small, it didn't matter to him.
his mother would always cook my favourite meals and make sure i eat alot. his siblings would always compliment me and make me play games with them on their playstation.
"ah eomma! you've embarrassed me enough..." taesan whined and covered his face as his parents chuckled, "your girlfriend— future girlfriend deserves to know all this!"
without a doubt, it was always fun at taesan's. his family members love me, and my family members love him. they treat him as their own child, always talking about marriage when he was over.
"thanks for tonight, sanie."
"no problem, angel. see you at prom tomorrow, i'll pick you up at six hm?" i nodded as he placed a short kiss on my forehead, making sure i got in the house before driving off.
prom! the one night where everyone could enjoy having their final days in highschool. i sighed as i opened my closet, looking through it to find my prom dress i had prepared.
that's until i found a mini box at the side of my closet, TO JUNG YN, FROM KIM LEEHAN. huh? when did this get here?
i took the box and sat down on my bed, opening it to find a corsage. a pink colour corsage.
TO JUNG YN ,
you probably would've expected the outcome of us... so i won't be there for prom but i want you to have the best night ever. i know taesan likes you... and he deserves you.
i wish you and taesan all the best. i'll forever love you jung yn. a pink corsage, a matching one with taesan.
thank you for your time the whole 3 years jung yn. :) goodbye forever.
i tried my best not to break down in tears, because i will not be redoing my makeup ever again. soon i received a text from taesan if i received a corsage from leehan and i replied him quickly because his next message was 'i'll be there in thirty'.
this is for you leehan taesan, i pick you. while changing i realised that you've never reminded me of leehan, you were yourself and that's what i love.
thank you taesan, for showing me what perseverance is.
"are you enjoying the party, girl??" yunah asked as moka danced alongside me. i pressed my lips into a thin line, shrugging as i gulped down another cup of fruit punch.
taesan and i arrived together but he was currently with his friends dancing in the middle. taesan and his friends have always been the popular group in school. they were all flirters especially jaehyun. he tried asking me for my number once with his so called, 'rizz' but thank god taesan stepped in.
taesan was never a flirter. he was more determined to get the girl he likes and never let her get out of sight.
"you're daydreaming again... please don't say it's about leehan..." moka whined as they took a seat beside me, leaving me in between them both.
"leehan isn't here anymore... yn. you know that." yunah reminded me as i nodded slowly.
"no, oh my god no! i was just thinking about taesan... like he's determined to get me... and i adore that." i explained as they 'ooh' at my response.
"can we get miss jung yn, head girl of 2024, on stage. calling for jung yn." the principal voiced out on stage as everyone turned to look for me, "i better get on stage first. first row, girls?" we giggled as they followed me and sat down first row with taesan and his friends.
i tapped on the mic, "hello... um wow this is new. a lot of you here..." i nervously spoke as everyone laughed and applauded for me to boost my confidence.
i looked down to my friends all holding a thumbs up sign, then made eye contact with taesan. i smiled as he mouthed, "you can do it, angel."
i let ou a small sigh of relief before continuing, "as head girl of batch 24', i've learnt a thing or two. holding onto the past won't do you any good in the future because you'll dwell on your past mistakes and be afraid to make new choices in life."
"secondly, i learnt that it's better to keep your circle small. the bigger the circle, the bigger problems. that doesn't mean that smaller circles have smaller problems, but it's unlikely to have any fueds or such."
"i would like to thank everyone... for being so supportive of me being head girl. i've enjoyed my time creating activities, spending time with my fellow students and just making the best out of everything."
"i would also like to... um... apologise. if i have ever made you upset, if i have ever made you angry. please forgive me if i have ever done anything to made you hurt." i bowed down to the crowd as they all retaliated, saying i didn't do anything wrong.
i giggled into the microphone, "lastly... the school and i have organised this event so that we could have our last moments together with friends and people we love. so please — take the dance floor, enjoy the buffet, do everything with your friends and loved ones. i think that's all from me... thank you, once again." i bowed to the crowd as everyone dispersed.
walking down from the stage, taesan appeared with a smile and a hand. "good job, angel." i chuckled and took his hand, hugging him as i finally reached the bottom.
as soon as i sat back down, the center floor was suddenly emptied out. taesan’s friends, jaehyun sungho, and riwoo all danced in the centre facing me. my eyes widened as i lifted my eyebrows, turning around to see nobody behind me at all.
“oh my darling..” i heard taesan’s voice as he emerged from the three. he sang the song as if his life depended on it, the closer he came to me, the faster the song ended.
“i love you.” my jaw dropped as he passed my a bouquet of flowers.
“will you be my angel?”
⤶ back | mlist
⟢ accidental confessions (acc) taglist
╰┈➤ @rairaiblog @voikiraz @veerooniicaa @miukidoll
⟢ permanent taglist ( can be requested to be taken off ! )
╰┈➤ @hooneverse @sol3chu @yourssincerely-mimi @reikaxslvr @petralovesbonedo @enhabooks @mwahvvis @jaerisdiction @rairaiblog @jeonginontopforever
hhs' notes ! ── .✦ whaaat a lengthy chapter !! i'm so sorry if this was a terrible chapter (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ ) i cried a little writing this hehe ( ˶°ㅁ°) !! but it's finally , the end !! how do we feel ? i originally wanted to make it seem like leehan was gone gone , but i just couldn't do it >ᴗ<
anyway my luvies...! i hope you enjoyed this smau and this final chapter huhu (,,>﹏<,,) i hope it's not too confusing !! i loved making this smau , each and every chapter •⩊• and i would like to thank everyone for liking, loving, and supporting this smau !! i love all of you and i'll see you in my next smau !! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧
#boynextdoor socmed au#boynextdoor social media au#boynextdoor leehan#boynextdoor reactions#boynextdoor fluff#boynextdoor imagines#boynextdoor scenarios#boynextdoor#boynextdoor texts#boynextdoor smau#bnd socmed au#bnd social media au#bnd donghyun#bnd leehan#bnd x reader#bnd scenarios#bnd fluff#bnd imagines#bnd smau#bnd texts#bnd#leehan socmed au#leehan texts#leehan smau#leehan#bnd taesan#taesan smau#taesan#accidental confessions! hhs
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Hey everyone 👋🏽
I know it's been a while and I haven't written anything in soo long, college is keeping me very busy 🥲.
On a brighter note I made some new goals for myself this year! I'm going to dedicate a couple hours each week to writing so you'll be able to get a chapter maybe every month or every two months. I think that would be better than me leaving everything until I get my break from college or until I graduate.
I also created a new blog ( @afsaana-e-ishq ) because this one seems so cluttered. New blog is going to be for writing and aesthetics only. I'll create a side blog at some point for reblogs and fic recommendations.
I'm going to delete this one in a few days. So if you want to still follow me you can. Fic updates will be slow but I promise I'm going to try harder to make time to write.
Don't worry mutuals I have all your names saved so I'll give you follow once my blog is set up.
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Tell me about A short life of trouble
It's a scene from chapter 8 of Mr Eye of Zaun I had to cut! I'll try to rework bits of it later in the story because I really like it :)
’’I’m very tired.’’
Vander regards him, with his very own exhaustion. They’re bare, in the solace of drunken privacy. Stripped from the strength it takes to keep the flame of animosity lit.
’’Yeah,’’ he simply agrees. ’’I’ve been tired for a while now, too.’’
Silco closes his eye and leans back, rolling his shoulders back and ignoring the cracks. He opens his eye and, now staring up, glares at the overhead light hitting him in the face. ’’You aren’t going to ask what the photographs were about?’’
’’I figured it was because of a con I didn’t want to know about.’’ Vander’s taking stock of the amount of liquor left in his bottles. He’s writing things down, and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
Silco nods. He’s now leaning forward on the bar, so he rests his upper body on it, and ignores the light. Instead he watches Vander. Doing the mundane. An ache twists within him, like that of a dagger ripping apart his guts, slashing them open and out into the open. ’’The Chem Barons believe I am prey, and that I have spent too long pretending otherwise.’’ He puts one elbow on the bar, to better support himself, otherwise he’ll hit his teeth on the bar and that’ll be the end of his evening. ’’So until I can fully show my teeth, I must pretend that I am protected. When,’’ he makes sure to stress, because he notices, out of the corner of his eye, the way Vander tenses and looks in his direction, ’’I need no protection at all. Rest assured.’’
’’Right.’’ Vander says.
’’It is,’’ he takes the empty glass and looks through it to see the stretched out, washed out, Hound of the Underground deformed and defanged. ’’Simply the act of preserving illusion.’’ He sets the glass on the bar. ’’Nothing more.’’ And then he pushes himself to stand, wobbly, and disoriented. ’’Nothing less.’’
’’You’re in no way to go out like that.’’
Silco waves him off. ’’You’re probably right.’’ But he makes his way towards the exit. ’’I’ll still take my chances out there.’’
’’Just.’’ Vander makes a move, quickly, to grab Silco – but he doesn’t close that difference fast enough. Silco’s already drawn his dagger and aimed it in his direction. Drunk or not, you don’t make it to their age, with the way they’ve lived, with where they’ve lived, without picking up a lot of tricks along the way. Vander raises his hands, in order to back off.
Silco nods, satisfied. He sheaths his dagger in his sleeve and gives Vander a once over, before saying. ’’Splendid birthday party. I’m certain not even Felicia and Connol would have managed to pull a better one together.’’
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HALLEY'S COMET- two.
{WARNINGS}: swearing, arguments, drinking, smoking weed, a soft noah moment, self-depreciating thoughts, cheating, abuse
w.c- 3,536
a.n- chapter 2 is out!! i'm slowly getting more ideas for this story and learning how to make it last longer and stuff like that. feedback is welcome of course! enjoy :)
if you would like to be added to the taglist, please comment.
{TAGLIST}: @lacy1986 @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard
"what the hell happened?" a voice spoke, snatching away my attention. i looked up from my spot on the ground, being met with a worried and confused noah.
"this idiot-" the stage tech began, but noah cut him off. "first of all, lower your volume. and don't call her an idiot. [y/n], what happened?"
i bit my lip, nervous for his reaction. "i was walking to my place at the stage in ran into them. he spilled his coffee all over me, now my camera is fried and the lens is broken. which means no pictures tonight."
noah seemed to tense at my words. no pictures? he never just had no pictures. he sighed, running a hand over his face.
"you don't have a spare?"
i rolled my eyes. "not everyone is a millionaire like you, noah."
"drop the attitude." he said, and i tried to ignore the way arousal shot through my body with his stern tone.
"right, well, no pictures for you tonight."
"what, you can't take them on your phone or something?"
i looked at him like he was insane. "you can't be serious. the camera quality of a phone does not even begin to compare to that of an actual camera. i can't just waltz out there with my phone in my hand-"
"yeah, yeah, i get it. stop your rambling." he interrupted. "i guess we just won't have pictures tonight. you can sit in the green room until the show starts, just don't get in the way."
i furrowed my brows. "you're not upset?"
"of course i'm upset, but i've got other shit to worry about right now. you're not at the top of my priority list. we'll talk about it later."
i nodded, and without another word i walked out to the green room with some ruined clothes and a broken camera.
"woah, what happened to you?" nicholas asked as i walked in. "don't wanna talk about it." i said, throwing the camera on the couch and grabbing a drink from the fridge. white claw, of course. it seemed that's all noah ever drank.
"dude, you need some new clothes." he said.
"they're all back at the hotel." i countered.
"i'll get you some from the merch stand."
i turned around to look at him. "nick, it's really not that big of a deal."
he raised an eyebrow. "it's the middle of december, [y/n]. i'm not gonna let you freeze to death with coffee all over your clothes. stay here, i'll be right back."
i sighed, sitting down and placing my head in my hands. how could so much go so wrong in such a short span of time? it seemed impossible. and so incredibly frustrating.
nick came back with a change of clothes for me. a hoodie and some sweatpants. the rest of the show went by well. a lot better than usual, for some reason. but who was i to ask? just the photographer. just the photographer who fucked up the one thing-
"earth to [y/n]." folio said, waving his hand in front of my face.
"hmm?" i looked at him.
"i said we're heading to a bar soon. you gonna join us?" he asked. "oh, i dunno. i'm pretty tired, i might just head back to the tour bus."
"come onnnn! it'll be fun!" he said, throwing an arm over my shoulder. "please?"
i sighed, running a hand over my face. "fine, whatever. but you're buying my drinks. i think i lost my wallet."
we soon arrived at the bar, heading straight for the vip section. i sat down in a booth far away from the others, staring at the wall and sipping on my drink until someone sat down in front of me.
"what's on your mind?" noah asked, crossing his arms over his chest, and i tried my best not to stare at them for too long before looking back up at his face. "nothing." i lied.
"you suck at lying. talk to me." he said.
"why would i talk to you about my problems?" i asked, a little more attitude in my voice than what i meant to let out.
noah furrowed his brows. "i'm just trying to help you. put some effort in. come see me when you got your head out of your ass." he said, and then walked off.
i groaned, laying my head on the table. today has got to be the worst day ever.
i drank a little more than what i meant to, stumbling and laughing as we walked back to the tour bus, nicholas having to hold my arms so i didn't fall flat on my face.
"damn, princess. you're shit faced." noah laughed.
"fuck you." i spat.
"still being a brat, i see." he said, and i rolled my eyes. "don't have to point out the obvious."
"c'mon, lets sit down before you fall." nicholas said, and i reluctantly sat down with a huff.
"so, what were you thinking about earlier?" noah asked. "you first." i replied, he furrowed his brows.
"earlier today. you declined a smoke. you never do that."
he made an 'o' shape with his mouth, trying to decide if he wanted to tell the truth or not.
"don't lie to me." i said, noticing his hesitance.
"i've just got some personal problems going on. nothing big."
i snorted. "what, your girlfriend break up with you or something? wouldn't be surprised." noah clenched his jaw. "i said it's nothing."
"oh, shit. she did!" i laughed. "damn, how's it feel to be humbled?"
noah groaned, throwing his head back. "can you drop it? i don't want to talk about it."
"nah, i'd rather make fun of you instead. give you a taste of your own medicine."
noah was starting to become increasingly frustrated, his fists clenching at his sides. that should've been my first sign to stop, but i was relentless.
"[y/n], give the guy a break." nicholas said.
"no, he needs to know how it feels to be nitpicked at and made fun of over every small thing." i said.
"can you not be a bitch for five minutes? i dunno, show some empathy and compassion for others for once?" noah snapped.
"i dunno how you expect me to be nice to you when all you've ever shown me from day one is disrespect and anger!" i said.
noah laughed bitterly. "are you fucking blind? i try to be nice to you all the time. i try to show you that i'm trying to change and all you do is push me away!"
"and you expect me to believe that you're 'trying to change'? really? i'm not stupid, noah." i slurred.
"obviously you are. drinking that much. you ruined the fucking show tonight, you know that? you screw up everything all the time. no pictures, no media announcements, nothing. it's a wonder i haven't fired you." he spat.
he was a little drunk too, not completely understanding of the words that he just spoke to me. the words that nearly brought me to tears. but i wouldn't allow him to see them.
"good thing you don't have to. i quit." i said, storming out of the bus.
"[y/n], wait-" nick began.
"save it." i spat, drunkenly walking off down the sidewalk to only god knows where.
i ended up taking an uber back to the hotel, hastily packing my things while the others tried to talk me out of it. all of them except for noah. he was probably in his room or something, hooking up with some girl from the bar. why did i care?
"come on, just think about it. you're both drunk. it'll blow over by morning. please don't leave, [y/n], bad omens isn't bad omens without their photographer." jolly said.
i rolled my eyes, zipping up my suitcase. "i've dealt with this shit for ten years, jolly. tonight was the final straw. i'm fucking done. i quit. find a new damn photographer."
and with that, i stormed out.
weeks after the incident, my phone was blowing up non stop with messages from all four members. i was back home in LA, searching for other jobs.
i saw on instagram that they had replaced me with some 'temporary' guy named bryan, which i'm sure he would end up taking my place entirely. he did his job, and better than i did. his editing skills were immaculate, and the angles he could get were insane.
i would never be like him.
photography never was for me, anyways. i wasn't creative enough. every time i couldn't get a shot or edit a photo correctly, i would break down. i needed to perfect, and i was never even close to achieving that goal. nicholas always assured me that practice made perfect, but couldn't nearly 10 years of practicing be enough?
i shut off my laptop, giving up on my job search for the day, and checked my phone. more messages from the group. great. one message had caught my eye, though. from noah.
'[y/n], please come back. i didn't mean any of the shit i said, i was shit faced and talking out of my ass. you're incredibly talented, you shouldn't need someone to tell you that. you should be able to see it for yourself. i know you've seen that we got a new photographer, but he doesn't even compare to you and your skills. we need you, princess.'
i rolled my eyes, shutting off my phone and ignoring the message, just like i had with all the others. with a bottle of hennessy next to me, i lit up a joint, taking a few hits as i turned on the tv.
since i left, i'd been drowning myself in weed and alcohol. not really a good mix, but i wasn't in the right mindset to even care at this point. the only thoughts in my mind were self-depreciating ones. the ones telling me that i would never be good enough. that he was right to say all those things to me. i felt tears well up in my eyes again, and then there was a knock at my door.
figuring it was just a package or something, i ignored it. until it came again.
i groaned, putting out the joint and shuffling over to the front door before pulling it open.
"christ, [y/n], you look like shit." noah said, looking at me and grimacing at the faint scent of alcohol and weed.
"oh, gee, thanks." i said, moving to shut the door again, but he blocked it with his foot.
"wait." he said. "i want to talk to you."
for a brief moment, i considered letting him in. i wondered if the others had knocked some sense into him over the past two weeks. yeah, he was going through a lot himself, but that didn't give him any right to treat me like that. i huffed, remaining stubborn on keeping him out.
"i don't want to talk to you. go away." i said. "give me five minutes. if i can't change your mind, i'll leave. forever."
the thought of him leaving made my heart clench. i didn't want him to leave. i needed him to stay. for some reason, my life felt emptier without him. so i sighed, opening the door again and moving to let him in.
why was i feeling this way?
we sat on the couch, and i prayed he didn't say anything about the countless empty alcohol bottles and joint butts.
"first, i want to apologize. i know me being drunk isn't a proper excuse. hell, there's no excuse for the way i treated you, that night and over the years in general. you don't deserve that, [y/n]. and you were right to want to quit. but that doesn't mean you should. you are the most talented photographer i have ever met in my life. you're- you're beautiful, and funny, and its like you can make photos come to life. i know i said a lot of shit, but you have to believe me. i didn't mean it. any of it."
i finally looked at him. "you're such a liar."
he shook his head. "i'm not lying. you don't have to trust me. you can hate me all you want. yell, scream, cry and hit me. whatever makes you feel better."
i really was gonna take him up on that offer, but decided against it. "what do you want?"
"i want you to come back. you're like family, [y/n]. tour isn't the same without you."
i clenched my jaw. "and what, you think a half assed apology is gonna fix it? everything you said, everything you did? you broke me down all these years, noah, and now i have to pick up the pieces myself. fuck you."
"[y/n]-" "get out."
"what?"
i looked at him. "get. out. i don't want you here."
he sat stubbornly. "i'm not leaving. you're not in the right mindset, i know, but you can't just quit. we need you. we miss you."
i crossed my arms. "prove it."
he furrowed his brows. "what? how am i supposed to prove it?"
"prove that you're sorry. that you're willing to change for me to come back. because i won't be coming back to deal with your sour attitude for longer than i have to. i'm tired of it." i said, and he nodded.
"okay. i'll prove it."
noah canceled the next few shows, which i repeatedly told him was not necessary, but he refused. he was going to show me he cared.
he started off by helping me clean my house. at first, he started by himself, but i refused to let him do it himself. plus, there were some things that needed to be done a certain way or else it wasn't right and i'd have to do it all over again.
"jesus christ, how much did you drink? it's been like, two weeks." noah said.
"too much. i've had the world's worst hangover for the past three days." i said, and noah threw me a water bottle and a bottle of painkillers. "take those and sit down. you'll feel better soon."
"but-" "don't argue."
i sighed, taking the painkillers and washing it down with water before going to the couch and sitting down.
noah continued to clean, throwing away the takeout boxes and empty bottles and even going as far as to mop the floors for me.
maybe he really is trying to change.
i shook away the thought. he could be trying to manipulate me or something. make me think he's nicer and then immediately go back to being mean.
even though there was that nagging worry in the back of my mind, i fell asleep in the couch with the thought of maybe he really had changed. maybe there was a chance at actually being happy.
maybe i had a chance with him after all.
i woke up what i can only assume was hours later, only to find noah no longer in my home. no note, not text, nothing. i should've known better.
a thought crossed my mind. my house was already so clean. there was no use in dirtying it up even more. maybe i could try a different outlet.
so i grabbed a paper and pen, scrambling off random words onto the paper. just random things that came to my mind.
I don't want it. And I don't want to want you. But in my dreams I seem to be more honest. And I must admit, you've been in quite a few.
it wasn't a lie. often times, he would show up in my dreams. i couldn't remember what was happening, but i knew he was there.
silly me to fall in love with you.
falling in love with a man who wasn't available. how stupid could i be? it wasn't going to happen, anyways. even though he was single now, he was a prick. he hated me. i can't believe i ever thought i had a chance.
NOAH'S POV.
i knew it was wrong to leave her there like that. but i couldn't stop myself. when i recieved the message i had oh so desperately been waiting for from alyssa, my feet seemed to move on it's own. my thoughts drifted back to conversation i previously had with nick as i drive to her place. the place we used to share.
"she what?!" nick yelled.
"calm down, dude." i said, my eyes red with previously shed tears.
i'd just recieved a picture from a good friend of mine, keaton, of my girlfriend and some random dude kissing in the mall while i was out on tour. part of me felt relieved. i knew it was wrong, but over the past couple years, i'd been growing feelings for another woman. [y/n], to be exact. why did i feel this way?
"god, dude, i wish she was a man so i could beat her ass."
"i know. just.. stay. i don't want to be alone."
i met alyssa when i was on tour at the very beginning of my career. i bumped into her when i was on a coffee run for everybody, and the way she carried herself, her voice, and generally just everything about her had me to my knees immediately. she didn't know who i was. and frankly, it was a relief. i didn't want to date some crazy fan, so i asked for her number.
we hit it off almost instantly. the first date i kissed her. everything was going fine for the first couple months, and then she started disappearing more. leaving the house more and staying out later. she always assured me that she was just going out with friends, but deep down i knew it was something more.
and really, everyone could see it but me. she was borderline abusive. sometimes physically, but i would play it off as jokes and fun. it was obvious it wasn't when she started leaving bruises. mentally and physically. telling me i would never be enough. that i wouldn't be anything without her. when we argued, she would put me down so far that sometimes, it was hard to get back up. but i managed. i always did.
it might sound absurd. a large, 6'3 and well built man being abused by a woman. and though i looked like that on the outside, it was all just a front. i never wanted to hurt anyone. i never wanted to be mean. i just wanted to be held. to be loved. i wanted her to love me. i wanted her acceptance, because that was all that mattered to me.
that soon proved to be a mistake.
i sighed, pulling into the driveway and sitting for a moment. this was wrong. so horribly wrong. but i couldn't find it in me to leave. i needed to know why she did this. why she left me. was i not good enough? what did the other guy have that i didn't?
i walked into the house and she greeted me with tears, shocking me.
"noah, please. i'm so sorry. i-i didn't mean to, please. i need you, you're the only man i love, i swear!"
my heart jumped at her words, though i knew they weren't true. over the years i'd been with alyssa, i knew she was cheating. lying. but i hated change. and i couldn't bring myself to leave. but keaton giving me the cold hard proof was all i needed to make the final choice.
"you cheated, alyssa. you did that. not me. you have no one to blame but yourself."
"so what, you came back to rub it in my face? tell me it's over for good?" she scoffed, the tears almost immediately disappearing and being replaced with a scowl.
"yes." i said simply.
"fine. he's better than you, anyways. richer, hotter, and he's bigger."
"whatever, alyssa." i sighed, grabbing my keys. i knew this was a mistake. "you walk out that door, and don't you ever call me again!" she shouted.
so i did.
i debated on whether or not i should go back to [y/n]'s apartment. after a few missed calls, i decided against it. she must still be sleeping. so i wen't to nick's house to crash. i'd go back to her house tomorrow, but for now, i just needed sleep.
READER'S POV
i found myself laying in bed, staring at the wall. once again, that void was in my chest. the void that could only be filled by him.
he called me numerous times, but i declined them all. he really had the guts to call me after he left? just left. without a single word. why would he do that?
tears flowed freely from my eyes as i remembered all the past experiences with the band. i missed them. i missed my friends. but i couldn't afford to get hurt again. i couldn't go through that again. so once again, i drifted off to sleep with the thoughts that lingered in my mind, despite my efforts to push them away.
halley's comet comes around more than i do. but you're all it takes for me to break a promise. silly me to fall in love with you.
#edenspeaks#stars4noah#noah sebastian#noah sebastian x reader#bad omens x reader#bad omens fanfiction
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2024: Year in Review
Thanks for the tag @calaisreno! Your review got me thinking a lot about my writing this year.
As my kids are getting older, I am having trouble finding free time for myself. Because of that, 2024 had much less writing than years prior. Reading fic too, for that matter, but I hope to start getting through my massive MFL list soon!
In total, I posted just over 41,000 words over 3 stories. But, the time limitations also forced me to write things differently and take on new challenges. When May came along, I was itching to write something, so decided to try to base a story around short bits built around @calaisreno's May prompts. It definitely scratched the itch and I managed to post something every day! The resulting story was Open Your Eyes (T, Words = 17,073 over 31 chapters). Although the story could absolutely use a good edit, I think it hangs together pretty well given how it was written. I absolutely loved writing Rosie in this one, although I admit my fave chapters are the Mycroft POVs.
I participated in FTH 2024 knowing that it would help "force" me to write. And, luckily, my top bidder (72reasons) gave me a prompt that forced me out of my comfort zone again. For the first time ever, I posted an alternative first meeting, although I didn't quite manage to take it entirely out of canon. That story is Meet Ugly (T, Words = 9,766 over 5 chapters) and I had a lot of fun writing it. I am most pleased by comments that people find parts funny, because I admit I worked at that!
And then it was back to my bread and butter for my second FTH fic. To be honest, the timing was perfect. After writing a couple of stories that deviated from my usual style, I was pretty eager to write a more traditional case fic. But, I knew time wasn't on my side and forced myself to try to keep the fic shorter than usual. My goal was 10k and it ended up at 14,522, which isn't so far off ;). That fic is The Red-Headed League (T, 5 chapters), my update on the ACD story. I tried to think of an alternative update to the title, but couldn't think of anything that had the same "feel". I really appreciate all the love this one is getting. I like it, but the shorter length did create some challenges. I like the case part and I like the Rosie/Fam b-plot, but I don't think they are well integrated as in my other case fics (ie., I don't think it would be that difficult to pull them apart into two stories). I think part of what makes ACD short stories so great is how much plot (and relationship dynamics) is in so few words. But, I suppose ACD never worried about getting our protagonists together and that is a 100% requirement for my stories!
I am not sure what I'll tackle next. I have a few partly finished AUs, but I seem to have trouble bringing those to fruition (the amount of research needed seems insurmountable at times). Who knows though!
This ended up being pretty long, especially considering I started this post by saying I didn't have much time to write ... my gratitude to anyone whose made it to the end 💖💖💖💖💖!
I'm a bit late with this so I won't tag, but invite any one else to share their thoughts on their writing this year. I love to read them!
2024: Year in Review
This year I posted 14 stories, fewer than any other year, but my word count still hovers around 300k, as it has for several years.
This was my first year writing for Fandom Trumps Hate. My story, written for the very generous and lovely @LHRinchelsea, was The Disappointed Optimist's Guide to Sharing a Flat with a Madman. It was so rewarding to participate that I plan to offer a story again this year.
My favorite story I've written this year is Déjà Vu, a closing chapter for the Off Axis series. I may write more for that series, but this one is a story that brought a lot of closure for our heroes and their friends.
My second favorite: This is Family, a fill-in story for The Final Problem (S4Ep3). I combined this into a series with People We Love, an aftermath story I wrote in 2023. "Solving" The Final Problem was a very satisfying endeavour.
I had great fun writing my first Harry-centric story in October, When Harry Met Mary.
I'm closing the year with a parallel story for When We Were Young. My Heart at Your Door will finish posting in January 2025.
This was my second year doing the May Prompts event. In 2023 there were only a few of us, but this past year, it took off in a big way. I think I was tagging over 30 people with the daily prompt! As always, it was a lot of fun. This year we had a number of people writing daily limericks, an activity that has continued for the rest of 2024, and I hope will still be going strong in 2025. Thank you @Friday411 for inspiring that!
My number one project for 2025 is The Secret of Agra, a fic that I've been writing since 2020. I've called it a White Whale, but it might be more of a Frankenstein. 😆 It is finally coming together, though, and I hope to post in 2025.
I don't have any other specific writing goals for 2025. I have quite a happy writing groove, and many WIP that I hope to complete.
I'd love to hear what you are planning for 2025, if you'd like to share! Tagging:
@keirgreeneyes @meetinginsamarra @totallysilvergirl @raina-at
@7-percent @lisbeth-kk @helloliriels @copperplatebeech
@discordantwords @chriscalledmesweetie @holmesianlove
@khorazir @jrow @thegildedbee @ghostofnuggetspast
And anyone I've forgotten!
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Rewrite The Stars
Sebastian Stan x Reader Story
Summary: Reader is a woman trapped in a loveless and abusive marriage, struggling to keep herself together for the sake of her daughter, when she meets Sebastian. Despite his Hollywood star status, he unexpectedly shows her the love and care she's been missing and her world begins to shift.
Reader thought she could forget Sebastian and move on with her life, but one day her husband crossed a boundary she never thought he would ever cross, crushing her physically and mentally that she ended up needing Sebastian even more..
A/N : This story deals with topics of domestic abuse and SA, as well as infidelity (of course I don't support infidelity in any way but in this story I have a very good reason to include it). So if you feel you can be triggered by these topics, it's best to not read it. The topics are heavy and aimed at 18+ readers so if you're under 18, I advise you not to read it.
Warning : depiction of physical abuse, SA and some non vulgar sexual references
Chapter : 5/15 (May add more)
Chapter List >
Word Count : 3k
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Chapter 5
Y/n stood by the kitchen counter the next night, her heart felt heavy after what happened with Sebastian the night before. But no matter how painful it was, she knew it was the right thing to do. She could never continue the relationship. Having an affair was against her moral compass even if it was with someone like Sebastian. Even if it was because she was in a broken marriage. A vow was still a vow and she promised to herself to never break it again.
She was drying a dish when she heard the front door slam. Her heart leapt into her throat, knowing what that sound meant. He was home, and judging by the force of the door, it hadn't been a good business trip.
She wiped her hands on a towel and moved toward the hallway, her pulse quickening with every step. As her husband rounded the corner, his face was already twisted with anger. His suit was wrinkled, his tie undone, and his eyes red from drinking.
"Where's dinner?" he barked, his voice harsh and slurred.
"I'll heat it up for you," Y/n replied quickly, trying to keep her tone calm and soothing. She turned to the stove, praying that this would be one of those nights where his anger would pass without escalation.
But before she could even reach the stove, she felt his hand grab her arm, yanking her back. "What the hell is your problem, huh? You think you can just ignore me when I walk in the door?"
"I'm not.." she started, but the words were cut off by the sudden sharp sting across her cheek as his hand struck her.
She stumbled back, her hand instinctively flying to her face, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away, refusing to let him see them. She'd learned a long time ago that showing weakness only made it worse.
"I had a shit trip, and you can't even be a decent wife," he spat, his face inches from hers, the smell of alcohol on his breath making her stomach churn. He grabbed her wrist, squeezing hard, his eyes wild with frustration. "You're worthless."
Y/n closed her eyes, trying to block out his words, trying to remember that she was more than this. She had to be more than this. But as he released her wrist and shoved her toward the counter, her resolve crumbled.
For a moment, it seemed like he might leave her alone. He muttered under his breath, pacing the small kitchen as if he didn't know what to do with his rage. But then he stopped, his anger melting into something else, something more dangerous.
He turned back to her, his expression softening, and Y/n's stomach twisted in fear. "I'm sorry," he murmured, stepping closer, his hand cupping her cheek, the same cheek he had just struck. "I shouldn't have hit you. Let me make it up to you."
Y/n recoiled instinctively, shaking her head. "No... I can't."
His eyes darkened again. "Don't tell me 'no,' Y/n. I'm your husband."
Before she could protest further, he pushed her against the counter, his lips crashing down on hers in a rough, possessive kiss. She tried to push him away, tried to escape, but his grip tightened. Her heart pounded in her chest as she struggled against him, but he overpowered her, forcing her down.
It wasn't long before he took what he wanted, right there on the kitchen floor, ignoring her tears and her whispered pleas for him to stop. And when it was over, he rolled off her as if nothing had happened, falling into a drunken sleep almost immediately, leaving Y/n lying there in the dark, broken and hollow.
Hours passed before she could move, her body trembling as she sat up, clutching her ripped clothes to her chest. The kitchen was silent except for her husband's snores, but inside, her mind was screaming. She couldn't keep doing this. She couldn't keep pretending that everything was fine.
With shaky hands, she stood up and went to her bedroom, she reached for her phone on the nightstand. Her fingers hovered over the screen, her mind racing with all the reasons she shouldn't. She shouldn't drag Sebastian into this. He didn't deserve to be burdened with her mess.
But the need to talk to him, to see him, overpowered her logic. She typed out a simple message before she could stop herself:
"I need to see you."
The reply came almost instantly.
"When and where?"
Y/n stared at the screen, her heart hammering in her chest. She knew this was wrong. She knew what she was doing, what they were doing, was dangerous, but right now, she didn't care. She needed him. She needed someone who saw her, who cared for her, and didn't see her as a punching bag or a possession.
"Tomorrow. The usual place."
—
The next day Y/n sat at the secluded café on the outskirts of town, their usual place, her hands wrapped tightly around her coffee cup. She hadn't slept at all, her mind racing with what she was about to do.
When Sebastian walked in, her heart fluttered in her chest. He spotted her immediately and made his way over, concern etched across his face. He sat down across from her, his eyes searching hers. "What happened?" he asked, his voice soft but tense.
Y/n looked away, unable to meet his gaze as her fingers trembled around her cup. "He... he hit me again," she whispered. "And then..."
Sebastian's jaw clenched, his hand tightening into a fist on the table. "What did he do?" he asked, his voice low, but there was an edge to it that sent a shiver down her spine.
Y/n swallowed hard, her throat tight as the words tumbled out. "He forced himself on me. He didn't care that I said no."
Sebastian's eyes darkened with fury, his hand reaching across the table to cover hers. "Y/n, you don't deserve this. You don't have to put up with this."
Tears welled in her eyes as she shook her head. "I don't know what to do. I'm trapped, Sebastian. I'm stuck with him because of my daughter. Because of my family. I can't leave. They'd never forgive me."
Sebastian's grip on her hand tightened. "I'll help you. You don't have to do this alone."
"I can't," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I can't ask you to fix my life. It's too complicated. And I can't divorce him... My family would never forgive me. They think I'm the perfect wife, the perfect mother. They think he's also the perfect husband and father. They don't know what's really going on."
"They should. Have you ever told them or anyone about how he has been treating you?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowed.
"I.. I haven't.. just you. I don't want to burden my family or his. This should be something I deal with myself." She replied, sighing deeply.
"But that's not right! They should know so they can help. You should tell them." He pleaded.
"They won't believe me. In their eyes my husband is perfect. He has his way with words when he wants to. Even if I tell them they wouldn't believe me." She replied, her voice shook.
Sebastian's eyes softened, his anger fading into something gentler. "Y/n, I.. I care about you. But if you can't leave him... then I'm here, no matter what. I'll be with you through this. But you have to promise me to think about leaving him one day. I can't bear seeing you like this."
Y/n's heart ached at his words, torn between the love she felt for him and the guilt that gnawed at her for allowing this relationship to continue. She knew it was wrong. She knew she was betraying her vows, but she also knew she couldn't survive without Sebastian. He was the only light in her dark, suffocating world.
"I don't know what to do, I can't.. I can't promise anything" she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Sebastian leaned closer, his eyes full of emotion. "Then don't think about it right now. Don't worry about tomorrow or next week. Just focus on today. On us."
She nodded, her chest tightening with the weight of her decision. She couldn't ask for a divorce, couldn't destroy her daughter's life or face the disappointment of her family. But she also couldn't let go of Sebastian. He was her sanity, her lifeline.
And even if it was wrong, she needed him more than she could ever admit.
"Okay," she whispered, her hand tightening around his. "We'll take it one day at a time."
"One day at a time.." Sebastian said, squeezing her hand back, giving her the warmth and comfort she needed.
Yes, maybe they could somehow make it work. She thought. And with that thought in mind she decided to allow him into her life again, no matter how wrong it was.
—
They continued to text everyday and see each other whenever they could, as if nothing had happened. Despite getting closer each week as they shared more about each other, they kept their relationship strictly as friends. Sebastian even asked her to start calling him Seb, like he asked his other close friends. But one night something shifted yet again at Cafe Solace where Sebastian decided to come and watch her sing that night.
The soft, intimate glow of the cafe's dim lights cast a golden hue across the room, wrapping everything in a sense of warmth and secrecy. The hum of quiet conversations filled the background, but the space between Y/n and Sebastian was charged with something entirely different, something unspoken yet undeniable. She stood on the small stage, the familiar microphone in her hand, the band playing softly behind her, but tonight, the song wasn't for the audience. It was for him.
She had chosen a song that bared her soul, "Say You Won't Let Go", a confession disguised in melody and verse. The words echoed the feelings she had been holding back for too long, the ones she had been too afraid to say out loud. Tonight, however, she could no longer keep them hidden.
As she began to sing, her eyes found Sebastian's in the crowd, and from that moment, she couldn't look away. Every word, every note she sang was for him. Her heart ached with the weight of everything she hadn't told him, everything she had been too scared to admit, even to herself. But in the safety of this song, she could let it all out.
"I met you in the dark, you lit me up You made me feel as though I was enough"
Her voice trembled slightly as the lyrics confessed what her heart had been screaming for months. She had told him the darkest parts of her life, the horrors of her husband's abuse, even the night he had forced himself on her. She had expected Sebastian to look at her differently afterward, to distance himself. But instead, he stayed, offering comfort, understanding, and something she had been too afraid to hope for - love.
And now, as she sang, she could feel his gaze never leaving hers, filled with the same longing that had consumed them both for so long. His eyes were soft, full of emotion, but there was also a quiet intensity, a shared understanding between them.
"I'm so in love with you And I hope you know Darling, your love is more than worth its weight in gold We've come so far, my dear Look how we've grown And I wanna stay with you until we're grey and old Just say you won't let go Just say you won't let go"
The final notes lingered in the air, her voice fading into the stillness of the room. But the connection between them only grew stronger. She could feel it pulling them closer, like a tether neither of them could break.
The applause that followed was distant, almost muffled, as if the world around them didn't exist. Her heart pounded as she stepped off the stage, her eyes still locked on his. And when he stood, crossing the room toward her, she knew what was coming.
"I'll walk you home," he said softly, his voice low, as if speaking any louder would break the fragile tension between them.
This time, she didn't hesitate. There was no fear, no doubt holding her back. Her husband was out of town again, and for once, she wasn't afraid of what would happen next. She nodded, unable to trust her voice, and together, they stepped out into the cool night air.
They walked in silence, the soft breeze brushing past them, the city alive around them, yet they were in their own world. She didn't have to say anything; neither did he. The decision had already been made.
When they reached her apartment, she stopped at the door, her hand trembling slightly as she fumbled with the key. She could feel Sebastian's presence behind her, steady and reassuring. And when the door finally opened, she turned to him, her heart racing.
"Do you want to come in?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
His eyes searched hers for a moment, and then he nodded. "If you want me to."
She stepped aside, letting him in, and the door closed quietly behind them. The apartment was quiet, her daughter staying with a neighbor for the night. There was no fear of interruption, no reason to hold back.
They stood there in the dimly lit living room, the weight of what was about to happen hanging between them. Y/n felt her breath catch as Sebastian stepped closer, his hands reaching up to gently brush a strand of hair from her face. His touch was soft, almost reverent, as if he was afraid she might break.
But she wasn't fragile anymore. Not with him. Not tonight.
"Y/n..." His voice was hoarse, filled with so much emotion it nearly broke her heart. "Are you sure about this?"
She didn't answer with words. Instead, she stepped forward, closing the distance between them, her hands trembling as they reached for him. And then, in one shared breath, they came together.
The kiss was gentle at first, hesitant, as if both of them were still afraid of what they were doing. But the moment their lips touched, something inside her broke free. The kiss deepened, and suddenly, all the tension, all the longing they had been holding back, spilled out.
It felt wrong and right all at once - a chaotic mix of guilt and desire that threatened to overwhelm her. But being in his arms felt like home. It felt like everything she had been missing for so long, everything she had been too afraid to want.
His hands were warm against her skin as he pulled her closer, his touch sending a shiver down her spine. She could feel the heat of his body pressed against hers, the way his heart raced just as fast as her own. But in the back of her mind, there was a nagging voice, a reminder of the life she still had, the vows she had made, even if they had been broken long ago.
"Seb..." she breathed against his lips, trying to pull away, but her body betrayed her. She didn't want to stop. Not now. Not when she finally felt alive again.
He paused, his forehead resting against hers as they both struggled to catch their breath. "We don't have to," he whispered, his voice thick with restraint. "We don't have to do this if you're not ready."
But she was ready. She had never been more ready for anything in her life. And yet, the guilt twisted inside her, making her hesitate. Her mind was at war with her heart, and she didn't know how to make them agree.
"I want this," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I want you. But..."
She couldn't finish the sentence. The words caught in her throat, too heavy to speak. But Sebastian understood. He always did.
He kissed her again, slower this time, softer, as if trying to tell her without words that he understood her struggle. And when he pulled away, his eyes were filled with the same longing, the same desire she felt. But there was something else too, something gentler, more patient.
"I love you," he whispered, the words slipping out like a confession he had been holding onto for far too long.
Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of it, and for a moment, she wanted to say it back. She wanted to tell him that she loved him too, that he was the only thing keeping her sane, the only person who made her feel like she could breathe again.
But the words wouldn't come.
Not until she looked into his eyes and saw the raw vulnerability, the hope lingering there. Her heart swelled, and the dam that had been holding back everything inside her broke.
"I love you too," she whispered, her voice barely audible, but it was enough.
The look in Sebastian's eyes changed in an instant, a flicker of relief, of overwhelming emotion, flashing through them before he pulled her into another kiss. This time, there was no hesitation, no fear. Only love.
They stumbled back, their lips never parting, as they moved toward her bedroom, where the door closed softly behind them. The night stretched before them, and as they finally came together, it felt like the culmination of everything they had both been too scared to admit for far too long.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Y/n knew this was a line she shouldn't cross. She was married, no matter how broken that marriage was. But with Sebastian, she felt something she hadn't felt in a long time, hope, desire, and the faint glimmer of happiness.
As their clothes fell away, and they gave in to the passion that had been building between them for months, Y/n knew that everything would be different after tonight. What they were doing was wrong, but for the first time in a long time, it felt like something was right.
For the first time in years, Y/n felt free. And in Sebastian's arms, she knew she had found home.
#sebastian stan#sebastianstan#sebastian stan fanfic#sebastian stan fanfiction#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x y/n#sebastian stan x you#bucky barnes#sebastian stan x female reader#sebastian stan fluff
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Somehow STILL untitled sequel to Little Bird: Chapter 4
As soon as this gets a name I'll put it on ao3 promise. I might even expand / fix things to better flow together cuz I fr just make it up as I go
Ariane begins her career as Falke's personal Replika technician and fixes her eye in a completely nonsexual way.
A Replika technician she was not, but Ariane suspected Falke was too proud to ask for any kind of help from anyone else. Technicians were all Gestalts, something Falke did not trust, and she'd never demean herself enough to ask one of her subordinates for assistance. How could she explain this kind of damage anyway? Falke hadn't initially understood why her office had contained a spare ocular module when she'd taken over, but after the first meeting with her owners that had gone south, it soon became clear why her predecessor had started to hoard spare parts to self repair.
She used to wonder about the woman who came before her. What had been the final straw? Could she avoid making the same mistakes as her? But it didn't take long for her to abandon those concerns entirely. She'd join her eventually, so what was the point of worrying beyond that which her Replika brain forced her to do. At least she had Ariane to entertain her. Her skittish little pet. Falke rarely saw her as a Gestalt, though she didn't fit comfortably in the same box as her Replika staff either. She was a thing to control and to use as she saw fit. Stress relief. Entertainment. Comfort.
Falke didn't allow herself to dwell on that troublesome need she felt whenever Ariane wasn't around. It was easy in the beginning to send her off and forget about her for weeks at a time, but lately, she knew, she was becoming increasingly more accustomed to her visitations. And Ariane was getting much better at pretending she enjoyed them. Falke was perfectly logical and understood Ariane hated her and only did what she did because she had to, but the foolish part of her found that so very easy to ignore whenever Ariane held her. Kissed her. Fell asleep on her lap…
Falke had, for a while, thought herself incapable of feeling physical sensations outside of the default pressure readings critical for all Replika functions. She was aware of touch just enough to orient herself to the world around her, no more advanced than a light curtain halting a machine's operation because it was aware something was dangerously close to its point of operation. Ariane's hands were warm against her face; her breath against her neck was soft and gentle. She had long since been aware that her Replika staff engaged in inappropriate relationships with one another and even as she turned a blind eye to allow them to carry on whatever private business they may, it wasn't until recently that she could even comprehend why they might act that way at all.
And yet she couldn't help but fear this had made her weak and ineffective as a leader. After all, what kind of Commander was she to accept help from someone she was meant to control? To be made weak and vulnerable in front of another?
She sat on her bed, staring at her bedroom door as she waited for Ariane to return. After limping back to her office, she'd instructed Ariane where to find her spare eye and left the rest up to her. Falke had no idea what the true extent of the damage was, but if she could at least walk around with two visibly functioning eyes, that would be close enough as far as she was concerned, even if the replacement didn't actually allow her to see.
Ariane slipped back into her bedroom, cradling a small white box in her hands. She seemed hesitant to meet Falke's gaze though that was hardly anything new. Falke shifted and looked away from Ariane as the realization that this was really going to happen began to sink in. Ariane set the box on the edge of the bed before carefully removing her jacket.
“Let me know when you're ready, Commander.”
Falke flinched. “Ariane. Just…call me Falke. Just this once.”
Ariane paused before she began to nod slowly. Turning to look at her, she repeated, “Falke.”
It was ultimately a standard procedure that Falke could have, perhaps even should have, performed herself. The most efficient way to replace a broken ocular module would have been to remove the upper half of her faceplate to offer easier access to the components underneath. Had she been alone, Falke would have done just that. The truth was, she didn't want Ariane to see that much of her all at once. It made her a hypocrite, she knew, but Ariane didn't seem concerned with pointing it out.
She straddled Falke's lap before she ripped open the thin cardboard and dumped out the contents onto the bed. A Replika eye, a device to remove a Replika eye, and a thin sheet of instructions that prompted the reader to consult their FKLR unit’s manual should they have more specific questions.
“It, uh… It looks like a spoon,” Ariane observed, picking up the small metal device from the bed.
“You don't need to be so vulgar.” Falke agreed with her assessment. “There's no point in overengineering a tool with one purpose.”
Ariane hummed, tucking Falke's hair behind her ear to uncover her broken eye. “I guess that's true,” she said.
“Officer Yeong, please be careful.” Her voice did not sound like her own, and she wished she hadn't spoken at all.
“I will, Falke.”
“It'll be my first time having maintenance performed by anyone. Don't make me regret it.”
“Hey…hush. You're alright.” Ariane spoke softly, pushing her fingers through Falke's hair to scratch her head. “I won't hurt you.”
She decided to indulge the fantasy where that was true. Falke closed her eyes to relax herself, focusing on the sensation of Ariane's nails against her head. For the moment, she thought if she must be a pet, maybe being Ariane's wouldn't be so bad. Sure, she was a terrible, ill-equipped master, but it was far more appealing than her reality.
They stayed like this for a moment before Ariane gently cupped her face, tilting her head back. “Ready?” She asked, voice barely above a whisper. She figured they ought to get this over with before either of them started having second thoughts.
Falke nodded, slipping her hands up to Ariane's sides to brace herself. She did not speak, though she wished she could close her eyes again, or at least look away as cold metal slipped under her eyelid. The sensation wasn't pleasant. Falke swallowed a whimper, though her fingertips curling into Ariane's hips was likely enough of a giveaway.
“You're alright,” Ariane said again, twisting the thin metal around slowly to properly seat it against her eye. She needed it to pop out in one smooth motion and her quick glance at the provided diagram suggested this would be sufficient.
In that moment, Falke believed her. Relinquishing control felt good if it meant someone was actually going to take care of her. Maybe she was indulging in her fantasy a little too much to be thinking like that, but it wasn't as if Ariane would ever know what she was thinking.
Falke held her breath, sitting perfectly still as Ariane pulled her eye free from its socket. She whimpered as her artificial skin barely stretched far enough to allow the module to slip free, stopped only by the wiring that kept it plugged into her head. The release of pressure felt good, and before she realized it, she was hugging Ariane out of a sudden, almost instinctual, need for comfort. Her hair smelled nice… her small frame was familiar and safe…
“Falke? Are you okay? Can I finish what I was doing?” Ariane didn't fight the embrace, she knew better of course, but she did squirm just enough to get Falke's attention.
Flustered, she pulled back and nodded quickly. “You can't tell anyone about this.”
“I know, I know.” Ariane reached up to unplug the eyeball that hung limply against Falke's cheek. Hopefully, that was all that was broken, because she couldn't do anything more advanced than this. It might be worth learning, she thought, as she looked at the hole in Falke's head. A few loose wires vanished inside and she couldn't help but wonder what it would look like up close. Ariane sat up on her knees once more, holding open Falke's eyelid with her thumb. She was surprised when Falke did not resist, and so she chose to reward her with another head scratch with her free hand. She leaned closer, resting her forehead against Falke's as she impulsively began to trace her fingers around the edge of the eye socket before slipping her fingertip inside just to see if she felt at all like Elster. To her delight, Falke squirmed beneath her and once more grabbed her hips for support. How far could she push her luck? Falke wasn't stupid. It was obvious she’d given up on the repair aspect of their meeting for now as she hugged Falke around the neck.
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“You aren't telling me to stop.”
“Was I supposed to?” Falke didn't necessarily trust her that much, but the curious new sensation was quick to override any doubts she might have had.
Ariane kissed her forehead, enjoying their little role reversal all too much. “No.”
“We aren't doing this again…Officer Yeong.”
“I know, Falke.”
A bitter taste clung to every corner of Ariane's mouth as she lay under Falke's arm. In the heat of the moment, it had seemed like a good idea, but now she couldn't help but wonder if she was going to get sick. A horribly embarrassing thought, and one impossible to explain to Elster. She was relatively confident she hadn't swallowed anything unsavory, but just how toxic were Replika biocomponents? Elster had always been stern about Ariane keeping her mouth away from them, no matter how much she insisted Elster would like it. She thought it was just a case of Elster being too concerned with safety, but now she was fixated on whether or not she should have listened.
Falke was asleep behind her, face buried in her hair, rendered unusually clingy thanks to Ariane’s maintenance. At the very least, the replacement eye did seem to function, so her death wouldn't be for nothing. Even so, she would prefer to live, as unusual a thought as that was coming from her. That also meant trying to leave was out of the question. She doubted she'd be able to escape from her grasp anyway.
And so she lay there waiting, listening to the hum of Falke's internals. Far louder than Elster's even when she was asleep. Ariane couldn't help but entertain the thought that it was as if Replikas could purr. She liked to think she'd managed to make Falke that happy, if only for the day…a thought soon followed by guilt and shame.
She couldn't for even a moment claim this was for her own safety, or that Falke had commanded it of her. Ariane had offered to do the repair and she'd been the one to take things too far. Whatever cruel thing Falke decided to inflict on her in the future, she would deserve, and more. Maybe that would balance things out and she could convince herself this had all been a failed attempt to get Falke to stop abusing her. That way she would still deserve Elster.
Ariane froze as she felt Falke's hand shift to wrap around her throat.
“You're crying,” she observed, though she sounded half asleep.
She was, and she hadn't even noticed. How had Falke noticed? Did it matter?
“What's the matter, little bird?”
“Oh, no…it's…” Ariane rambled out the first lie that came to her mind, “I miss home. I didn't get to say goodbye to my mom. I haven't seen her in years.” While it wasn't why she was crying, it was still true that she hadn't had time to see her mother before being shipped off to Leng. Either way, Falke seemed satisfied with the answer.
“Perhaps I could schedule you a flight home in the future. As long as you promise to come back.”
“Can Elster come too?”
“Maybe I'll make you take me instead, hmm?” Falke chuckled, kissing the top of her head before releasing her hold. “I'll think about it.”
Ariane swallowed, reaching up to intertwine her fingers with Falke's. Now was as good a time as any to try and persuade her while her mood was still good. “What if Elster fixes your other eye? That way you don't need to order another spare and no one else has to find out about this?”
She thought on it for a moment before she nodded. “Fine. She'd better not screw it up.”
That was something they could both agree on. Ariane knew Elster was capable of making the repair, but she couldn't help but worry Falke might arbitrarily decide she'd done something incorrect.
“I can go ask her now if you…” she felt Falke tense and let her sentence trail off. “I'll stay right here until I'm dismissed. Just wanted to show, uh, initiative is all. For you.”
“That's what I thought.” She relaxed once more, snuggling closer to Ariane. “Just rest with me a while longer, then I'll let you go.”
Ariane exhaled slowly as she continued to hold Falke's hand. She tried not to think about how Elster would react to seeing them like this. At least she was clothed, for once. Perfectly innocent at a glance, albeit a bit weird. A lot weird given who Falke was. Cuddling probably wasn't included in the FKLR unit list of features. Then again, it wasn't in Elster's either. If Elster would join them, it would have solved a great many of Ariane's problems. Would a successful repair prove to Falke that Elster was worthy of joining them? She doubted it. Elster was too serious to enter into an affair with her boss anyway. She could always ask nicely. No, it wasn't worth the consequences. Just keep quiet and let things continue as they were. Exactly the way that everyone else did.
#signalis#ariane yeong#signalis falke#fklr#probably full of weird sentences and such cuz i wrote it so so so fast but it was better than constantly getting stuck like ch 2 and 3#and 1.#ennnnjoy
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tell me everything about the giant hangster wip, i need deets
BABY I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED!!!!!
Okay so I saw TGM on a flight like 2 years ago and was like, those two are definitely shippable and then I spent 3 weeks in Europe and forgot about them. Fast forward to October of last year when a friend asks if I'd beta their first Hangster fic and I was like... yes but let me rewatch the movie and I was slapped in the face with the desire to write a hangster Olympic hockey AU.
Except you've know me, I needed some backstory for them being at the Olympics which spiraled into me going "well I'll just write the entire hockey season". The original outline was literally four chapters each titled with a season (Chapter 1 was summer, Chapter 2 was fall, etc).
But Jake grabbed me by the throat and was like "Actually Han, this fic is going to be at least 10 chapters and my dad died when I was 19 and I have not processed that and this is a slow burn long distance rivals to friends to lovers story :)"
So we've got Hangman playing for the San Jose Sharks, Rooster playing for the Washington Capitols, all the daggers playing Olympic hockey together, a truly insane amount of backstory, Hangster being so insane about each other, and a lot of me making romantic metaphors using hockey.
A little snippet from Chapter 5 under the cut :)
“What the fuck was that,” Jake seethes, pushing Bradley into the locker room between the first and second period.
“I lost the puck -”
“No Bradshaw, that wasn’t you losing the puck,” Jake’s not sure why he’s so much more mad at Bradley than the rest of the guys who were on the ice, maybe because he expects more of Bradley, because he knows how good he is. “That was playing so carefully that you got left behind. Stop. Fucking. Thinking.”
“Easy for you to say” Bradley mutters, turning away from Jake with an eye roll, grabbing a water bottle off of the bench as he does.
“Mav,” Jake calls across the room where Maverick has clearly been watching them. “Gonna tell Bradshaw here how he fucked up?”
“You’re doing a pretty good job of that for me,” Maverick says and then he turns to address the room at large. “First period under your belts means I expect the jitters to be gone when we’re back out on the ice. Coyote - you’re moving to a line with Omaha and Hammer. Hangman, you’re moving to a line with Rooster and Fritz.”
Jake opens his mouth to say something - he’s not sure what - when Maverick gives him a look that shuts him up before he can even start. He’s not sure what the fuck is going on - he was centering the second line, more like the second first line with how fucking good they are, he doesn’t want to be pushed to wing. It feels like he’s being punished.
“Same plan of attack - we’re faster, stronger, and better than they are. We need to start actually capitalizing on the turnovers and get some breakaways,” Maverick says and Jake’s heard it all before. It was what he talked about during camp this summer and what he talked about on the flight over and what he talked about while they were cheering on the women’s team. “I expect us to be tied or winning before the next intermission.”
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Ideal No. 15
(7,119 words)
(A/N: Is this the longest chapter yet? LMAO, eat up! I had it mostly done before now, so IDK why it took me so long, if I didn't procrastinate, the total writing time was like three days, maybe. Plot bunnies are bitches, I guess. The moral of the story is: yell at me more in the comments! Only one or two more chapters to go!)
Thanks once again to @fyodorsushankaaa for all the encouragement!
He looks like a scared puppy, readying to bolt. I have to act fast.
It's impulsive, I know, but I'm not sure what else I can do, so I grab his bloodied hand. He flinches, hard, but I don't let go. I can't, too scared he'll slip away again.
"Dazai, you're hurt." Well, that much is obvious. I mentally scold myself. "What happened?"
He probably won't tell me if it's self-inflicted or not, but I need to know what sort of injury it is at least. The blood is spreading in a pattern that suggests a wound less controlled than razor lines. And Dazai doesn't cut himself, as far as I know. He kills himself with neglect.
He opens his mouth, then closes it, then again, then once more. Then he jolts up, trying to twist away. He makes a sound of pain so startling that surprise makes me let go when it should be my instinct to grip him tighter.
Without the support of my arms, he tumbles out of the booth. I rush to help him.
"I'm okay. I'm just a bit out of it because of the weather change, is all." His voice is raspy. He isn't even trying to fool me anymore. I won't complain. His admitting that something at all is wrong is a start.
I'll just do what I always do. Go along with it.
"If you were under the weather you should have let someone know."
"'M fine."
Suppressing a sigh, I try a different tactic. "It only causes everyone more trouble if you wait until you can't stand."
His wince makes me regret the words, but I have to say something to make him see sense.
"I-I'm sorry."
What does he have to be sorry for? I don't have time for that at the moment. He needs medical attention, but knowing him he won't let me bring him anywhere near a hospital. "I hardly care about that now. Come on, I'm going to take you back to the office. Yosano-sensei will treat you."
"No!"
He's hyperventilating, the first sign of a panic attack. Okay. I have to calm him down. What would calm him down?
Jokes!
"Dazai, your bandages are yellow. I will not allow you to let your writing hand rot off simply because you don't want to do paperwork. How am I to get you to do work, then?"
It doesn't work. Or, well, it does, but not the way I intended. He stops hyperventilating but then lapses into silence. "Sorry." He wilts.
We both sit awkwardly on the floor for a moment considering the situation. He has been eating more, lunch at least, but I can tell I'll still be able to lift him, easily. It scares me a bit, but I'm grateful for it now. It is easier to focus on his alarmingly skinny stature than the fact that he is, practically, in my lap.
His quiet voice comes from beside me, "T-the food . . ."
I don't want to ask him to speak up, but he's so quiet and his words are so slurred that I really am having trouble hearing him.
"I'm sorry?"
"The food, we shouldn't waste."
I want to shake him. That's what you care about? But I'm afraid he'll break.
"Of course, let me, uh, just."
He tries to leap away, I think, from my lap, but he just ends up rolling to the side a bit, his hand twisting further.
I hurry to the counter, give our order number, and inform her of the mess we made.
"Yes, it's almost done. Don't worry about the tea. It happens a lot. We'll be happy to pack your food in takeaway boxes for you, sir. But, may I ask why you're leaving so soon? Your order was marked as dine-in, was that incorrect? Was your experience not okay?"
The woman is so sweet, but what do I tell her? No, you're restaurant is lovely my colleague is just a bit suicidal. "Oh, it was fine, ma'am. . . . My partner is just feeling a bit under the weather."
She coos, glancing worriedly behind me, probably at Dazai, who must still be lying on the floor. "Oh my, I see. The noodles should help then. I hope he feels better soon. You two boys take care."
"Thank you, ma'am."
-
Dazai is indeed still on the floor. I look at him for a moment. There's no way he'll be able to stand long enough to get to the car. Given his state, what would be the most efficient and most dignified way (for both of us) to pick him up?
After looking at his tender hand hanging limply, I go with the cradle carry.
(A/N: The cradle carry is more commonly known as the Bridal or Princess carry, lmao)
"I'm going to pick you up, is that alright?"
He blinks, taking a moment to comprehend the words. He must be more ill than I thought. But, to my relief, he nods.
He's warm in my arms. Not like the warmth of a lover, but feverish warmth.
"Keep these steady, Dazai," I say just to break the silence.
He nods, not objecting to my using him as a shelf for the noodles. In fact, he crunches them as if they're far more important than tea-house takeaway.
The walk to the car feels long and short at the same time. Dazai isn't heavy, not at all, but I'm so worried I'll drop him.
As I lay him across the backseat, he grabs my arm. "No . . . Yosano."
"Dazai, you need a doctor."
He doesn't seem to get it.
"Please."
It's his eyes that get me. They're wide and round with innocence and fear, like a child's, like a stray cat's. He reminds me so much of Yozo that I can't possibly ignore his request. It would feel like abuse.
"Okay. I'll take you to my house, but you're getting first aid either way. I'm not going to watch whatever injury you have fester. Understand?"
-
The drive takes a bit longer because I'm so careful not to go too fast or hit the brakes too hard. I even avoid steep downhills, given that he wears no safety belt.
He sits up as soon as I park, indicating that he was not asleep as I'd hoped. I shouldn't let my disappointment show. I don't need him apologising for I don't know what, again. So while I fix my face, I carry the noodles in.
Of course, Yozoz makes her escape as I open the door. It made me a bit sad to see her go, but then I knew she'd have to leave eventually, and with the noodles in my hands I was in no position to stop her.
-
They fit nicely in my mostly empty fridge. I haven't had much time to shop due to my extended hours. This is not ideal at all.
I'm also lacking in bandages. I have plenty for Dazai's wound, but I have no doubt that the ones he wears like a bodysuit need changing and I don't have enough. I never thought he'd be here, at my residence. Oh . . . what am I doing? I'll need to order groceries.
Mourning Yozo's absence, but with new determination, I step outside.
To my surprise, the cat hasn't gone far. She paws at my car door, jumping up to the window. The relief I feel is more than should be warranted, considering she's a feral cat, but I feel it anyway.
"Move, Yozo. I need to open the door."
I don't expect her to, but she obeys. Trotting curiously to the left.
Dazai is even more out of it than before. He's like a child when they somehow make themselves heavier, only it's hardly his fault. Yozo watches me curiously as I carefully handle my colleague. She trails my steps, fascinated by the newcomer.
Once inside, I lay dazai on the counter and wash my hands at the sink. I have to swat soapy water at Yozo to prevent her from licking Dazai's wounded hand. She yowls in response. It's interesting how she acts with him as if he's a fellow cat in danger, not a human. Or maybe she thinks she's human too.
I want to start with the first aid right away, better while he's out of it, but his bandages are the one part of his body he keeps off-limits and I would never cross such a personal boundary.
I'll have to wake him, but I can wait a bit longer.
This is where preparedness comes in handy. I have an ear thermometer I bought but have never used. I take it out now, rubbing it with an alcohol swab and sticking it in Dazai's ear. He twitches but makes no move to stop me.
The device beeps, flashing a yellow 39 C. Not Ideal, but not life-threatening.
Hmm, another dilemma. Medication will help his fever and pain, but he hasn't eaten yet. There's no way anything is making it to his stomach right now, so medication will have to wait.
"Dazai, wake up."
" . . . 'nikida?"
"Yes. How do you feel."
He just shakes his head.
"You're running a mid-grade fever, so that's probably why you feel so poorly. Now, I need to take your bandages off to get to your hand-" He shakes his head before I finish, I can feel him trembling. I'm not sure how much of it is chills and how much is fear at the prospect of revealing what's underneath that he keeps so carefully hidden. "Please, Dazai, your wound is infected. It needs treatment. I won't go above the elbow, I promise. I swear on my Ideals."
He stops trembling, stilling completely, as stiff as a board.
"It's okay?"
An almost imperceptible nod.
There's disposable plastic on the counter, my sleeves are rolled, my hands are washed and protected by latex gloves, and I have everything I could possibly need save for surgical tools, and yet, I don't feel ready. But when am I ready for Dazai Osamu? Since when does it matter if I am or not? I just have to do it.
The bandages are wrapped so tight his hand must be purple underneath. I take the miniature scissors from the kit and begin cutting. The bandages come loose, but I have to peel them away from each other.
"Fuck me." I try not to swear, but the deeper I go, the tighter they're stuck with blood, plasma, and other bodily fluids that result from the inner layers of skin being exposed to the outside world. The bottom most bandages are closer to brown than white.
"M' trying."
"What?" What did he just say? He didn't mean- surely not . . .
"Said m' trying to fuck you, kun-i-ki-da~" His voice is strained with pain and slurred with fever.
Wh- Oh. He's delirious. Of course. As much as the returns of his clownery relive me, this is NOT what I had in mind.
"I'd do it so well, Kuni-kun."
Suddenly I feel as if I'm the one with the fever, the what creeping into my face, hands sweaty.
"Please, go to sleep, Dazai. You're not well."
"That's what the lady at the cafe said too."
"I'm sure."
I focus all my energy on tuning him out. Thankfully there's no smell, which means the infection isn't too bad. I sigh.
On the last layer, I hesitate. The bandages are still opaque enough that I can't see the skin underneath.
Dazai's other hand raises up in a sloppy thumbs up, then falls back down. He's exhausted, but I'm glad for his approval, and that he seems to be back to his silly persona.
I took a formal first aid course in High School, so the rest of the process will be easy, the most tedious part is cleaning until the water runs clear instead of red.
The skin is blistered, if he does have any self-harm scars, I can't see them. I'm not sure if that's a good thing. Some of the blisters have burst but the skin is still pink, not charred or brown. This looks to be a superficial 2nd-degree burn. Thankfully these can be treated at home.
Because this isn't exactly a fresh wound it isn't bleeding and I don't need to cool the burn, since it's at least a day old, which is good because it means I can treat it with less delay.
Given that the wound was covered, I suspect that the infection came mainly from not cooling the wound properly or allowing it to breathe, and the lack of antibiotic ointment, and choking his circulation did no favours. Scolding him would do nothing.
Once the wound is clean, I apply antibiotic cream and begin dressing it. Dazai doesn't flinch, he must be out.
I lean down, examining my work. I almost wish I hadn't done it. A cool bath would've helped his fever and the sweating, but now I don't want to wet the dressing, and he'd never allow anyone to see what's underneath his bandages. (Even if I thought I could handle him naked. As unprofessional as that sounds, I know my limitations.) With all the weeping, perhaps I should change it anyway. I have doubt that he'll do it himself even if he's capable.
I bin my gloves and the plastic sheet and wash my hands perhaps a little harder than necessary.
His fever isn't sustainable either, but I'll let him sleep for now, just to recover from the shock of it all.
Still, he can't sleep on my counter. I lift him as carefully as possible, he doesn't stir. I tell myself not to worry as I set him down on the sofa.
Yozoz climbs my leg, jumping onto Dazai's limp form.
"Off!" I whisper, but she doesn't move.
I have a spare bedroom, but I'm not putting him there until he's had a bath and some fresh clothes. I'll do that as soon as I can.
-
His face isn't relaxed as he sleeps, he frowns, his nose and eyebrows scrunched, still, I can't deny that he's handsome. And cute with Yozoz lying protectively on his chest, letting him use her to elevate his hand.
He twitches and shifts uncomfortably. He'll need pain medication soon, which means he'll need to eat.
Instead of staring at him, I need to order groceries . . . And I need to call in.
How do I even explain this? Better yet, how do I explain this without betraying Dazai's trust and alerting Yosano-sensei to the fact that he's injured?
I mean, do I even need to? He cuts work all the time . . . or he used to. Yeah, I'd better call.
I swear for the second time today and dial the president directly.
"Fukuzawa-sensei, this is Kunikida."
"Yes, Kunikida, what do you need?"
"Nothing. I was just calling to inform you that Dazai and I are on a private case and we won't be back for a couple of days. You can cut the time from my pay if you like. But I just wanted you to know that nothing is wrong, no one needs to come looking for us."
"Ah, I see. Did you pick up this case during lunch? Will you be reachable in the case of an emergency?"
I look at Dazai. I can't leave him, not like this. "Yes . . . and no."
"Are you out of the city?"
"No."
"Alright. Seeing as your paperwork is complete. I will bother you no longer. But please do call again if you two plan to be on the case for more than a week."
"Of course, sir."
He hangs up. I rest in relief for a moment. Now that that's cleared up there's the matter of my almost empty refrigerator.
-
Dazai wakes at the sound of the groceries being delivered.
"Huh? Kunikida?"
"I ordered groceries."
I don't think he understands me very well, but I'll only be going to the door, so I don't worry.
Yozoz hisses at the delivery man. I nudge her back, and she gives one final look of utter disapproval before retreating. I tip the man and take the bags inside.
When I come back Dazai has gotten into a halfway upright position, using his uninjured hand to pet Yozo.
"Be careful." The warning is a habit at this point.
"When did Kunikida-kun get a cat?"
I don't let his use of the third person worry me, it wasn't uncommon for him a few months ago."Recently. She was a stray."
"My, how charitable!"
I have to remind myself not to be relieved. He's only acting this way because of the fever.
"Helping the less fortunate when I can is in my Ideals. And right now, that includes you, Dazai."
He gasps theatrically, "Me?"
"Yes, you. You have a fever. You need to take medication. It'll help with the pain as well, but you need to eat first. Now come on."
"My, who knew the prime minister of meeting procedure land would make such a good doctor, and handsome too~"
I can't deal with this right now, him saying all these things. They say fevers make you honest, but he's clearly spouting, pardon me, utter bullshit. "Yes, first aid training is quite useful."
He frowns at my lack of reaction.
I set the groceries on the counter, and go to help him.
"Ahh, I'm so weak Kunikida-kun! I couldn't possibly move! Carry me!"
Ugh. Now that he's more alert, carrying him feels less like a medical necessity and more awkward, without the adrenaline from seeing him so hurt, but I'd take this over him sobbing on the floor any day.
I must admit I've had daydreams about having him in my arms before, but never like this.
He won't be able to handle chopsticks, so it'll have to be broth. I can make a simple one in under thirty minutes. As soon as I finish stocking the refrigerator and cupboards, I turn to find Dazai sitting at the counter. His newly dressed hand is splayed out on the countertop. He lifts it, flexing his finger. He makes no sound, but I've known him long enough to see that he's in pain.
He abhors pain. It doesn't make sense. This must not have been part of a suicide attempt. He'd never do something as painful as burning or boiling alive, so how did it happen?
I don't look at him, not wanting to invade at the moment. Instead, I focus on readying the ingredients for the broth, falling into the rhythm of chopping vegetables.
"How are you feeling? Does it hurt?" I ask, still not looking. If it were anyone else I wouldn't count on a coherent answer, and I don't with Dazai, not really. He would never admit the extent of his pain, but I know he's aware, at least. This man is a cockroach. He's come to work with temperatures like this and higher before and none of us noticed until he passed out dramatically on the sofa.
"It's fine."
"It is" not "I am". A clear lie.
He's as stubborn as an ox, more stubborn than I myself can be at times. I have no choice but to go along. I place the vegetables in the pan with the stock and set the temperature. "Good. You have to eat before you take medication. The broth should be done soon."
He goes silent for a moment, then, "Mmm, Kunikida is so kind, getting all worked up over nothing." His words are soft, a gentle smile, almost . . . reassuring. His voice sends a wave of warmth down my spine.
Still, the sudden return of his demureness is a bit surprising.
"This is not nothing."
"Well you could have simply taken me to hospital, it wasn't necessary to bring me all the way to your home. I'm sure I've caused quite a hassle. I'm not sure how I can repay you for all of this."
"You mentioned before that you dislike hospitals, so I thought-"
"It hardly matters. There was no need for you to trouble yourself, I feel guilty now."
"Don't, you're my partner, it was no trouble at all." The words feel forbidden. It's immature, but my feelings make calling him my partner feel more meaningful than it should. He's so observant, can he see my guilt? Hear my heartbeat?
"That's impossible. I wish I hadn't troubled you at all." He looks down as he says it, picking the his new bandages. He sounds genuine, bitter and upset. Like many of today's events, it doesn't make sense. After all he's done to pester me so far, how can he feel so guilty for this? Or is it something else? Is this for all he's done in the past? That would be ridiculous, but somehow I believe it. Nothing he ever did was that horrible, it's all forgiven now.
"Dazai . . ." I don't know what I should say, what I could say. He doesn't look up anyway.
"I won't trouble you anymore, Kunikida-san." It sounds so . . . final.
"Dazai, it wasn't-"
He's standing before I can stop him. I want to reach out to him, to stop him, but I know I shouldn't touch him much more, I doubt his aversion to contact has changed. Even with all his external polish and warmth, all those smiles, something frozen still resides within him, I know it. At times, I can feel its cold, like a gust of shivering wind, sudden, shocking . . . then gone.
And yet I find myself moving ever closer. Something deep in my gut knows I can't let him leave. I feel that if I do I may never see him again.
He sways, and sways and sways, and then . . . tips.
This time, though, I'm here to catch him. Again, he's too warm in my arms.
"Dazai, stop! You're in no condition to go anywhere. Please, sit, . . . stay. At least until you take medication. Then you can go as you please. But as your partner, it would be an abdication of my duties to allow anything to happen to you." There's that word again. Partner.
He whispers so softly, that I swear I mishear him, but it's quiet enough that I'm sure I don't. "Partner." Then he looks up. "Abdication, such a big word." The words are thoughtful, yet careless. He looks dazed. "Of course, you're just doing your job. Fine, but at least let me pay you."
Is he out of his damn mind? "P-pay me, what, you-?!" No. I can't lose my cool now. This isn't an office shenanigan. But then again . . . perhaps my scolding will be as grounding to him as his clownery is to me (am I the delirious one?)
"This is a favour, you will do no such thing. Now, stop talking nonsense!" I can't make myself call him an idiot, he still looks too fragile for that.
It seems to work, to my relief, he backs down. "Sorry." I don't like the bashful tone, but if it means he'll let me care for him without fighting, I'll take what I can get.
We sit, once again, in silence.
I'm relieved when the broth is done, busying myself with readying the bowl and placing it in front of him.
When I set it down, he looks at me for a long moment, then says a quiet "Thank you." and takes the spoon.
His hand shakes a little.
Right. I was so distracted by his attitude that I forgot a spoon might still be hard for him. What to do? For once, I don't know, there is nothing in my Ideals that tells me how to deal with an injured, delirious, Dazai Osamu in my kitchen.
"W-would you like some help?"
He looks up with wide eyes. Neither of us says anything.
A moment passes, and I can't bear to wait, so I take the spoon from his shaky hand.
He opens his mouth wordlessly and closes it the same.
We repeat the process, still silent, working like a machine, efficient. Both of us, I'm sure, are trying to distance ourselves from the reality of what we are doing. Before I know it the bowl is down to the dregs of vegetables.
Dazai nods once. "Your soup is very delicious, Kunikida-san."
"Thank you." The phrase is brief, almost curt, but I don't know how else to respond. My brain won't form words appropriate for this situation. I turn away, typing the last drops of broth into the plastic bowl the vet sent home for Yozo.
She laps eagerly, while I prepare the correct dosage of medication.
Dazai takes it without a hint of disgust, handing the cup back to me, then pushes himself up. It's too fast and he wobbles. I reach out but then retract my hands. He's not my charge, he's a grown man. He's fine. And he dislikes being touched.
I can't stand to see him go. Who knew I could be so selfish?
"Dazai, wait."
He halts but doesn't turn. His shoulders are tense. I shouldn't keep him longer.
"Just wait a bit. I will call you a taxi cab once the medication takes effect. Just for an hour, rest . . . please."
He turns so slowly I'm worried he's dizzy again, but he seems perfectly steady when he faces me. Then again, he seemed fine until he collapsed in the tea house.
"Alright. Where would you like me to sit?"
Anywhere.
"Wherever you feel most comfortable."
He nods, clearly uncomfortable again. Guilt makes my chest ache, I should let him go. He's made it this far. I'm sure he can handle himself.
"The sofa will be more than fine."
"Okay," I have to leave, I should. I have no business hovering like we're anything more than colleagues. "I'll be in the kitchen, cleaning, if you need anything at all."
"Don't worry. I won't."
-
I can't make myself stay away.
So here I sit, mere inches away from Dazai. He fell asleep almost as soon as he sat down, despite his insurance on feeling fine.
His breathing is even, but I can see him shivering against the fever. I leave him for a moment, just to get him a blanket.
When I put it over him he still for a moment, then rolls over, still fully asleep and pulls it tight around himself. The trembling stops, and I breathe a sigh of relief. He'll be alright.
But I won't.
Watching him like this feels wrong, a guilty pleasure. This was never meant for me to see. I feel like a pervert, even though watching him like this brings no sexual pleasure, only a warmth in my chest.
I can only stare as his chest rises and falls. His hair fans out over my pillows making them look like they don't belong here, no, not that. They, and he look like they belong, but under his head, they look like something novel even when I've had them for years.
-
After many hours of fitful tossing and turning, he really stirs. And I've done nothing but watch him this whole time. How much working time have I lost? And why does it not seem to matter at all?
I don't think he meant to sleep so long. It's dark out now, and he'll surely need more medication if he even wishes to attempt a full night's sleep.
I jump up when he twitches, hurrying away, lest he think my intentions are anything other than platonic.
"Kunikida?" He calls out.
"Yes, Dazai," I answer, strolling in like I didn't just bolt from the room. How many times have I lied in the past day?
"Thank you very much for letting me stay, and for the food, both here and at the tea house. You can keep my noodles. I'll catch a cab now."
He's up, standing on shaky legs before I can stop him.
"What?" The words fall out, clumsy and desperate. I hope he doesn't hear it.
He looks at me, appropriately confused. "Did I leave something, Kunikida-kun?"
My saving grace. The one thing I actually did besides watching him sleep."Your coat, it's in the dryer. There was some blood on the cuff, so I washed it." The perfectly reasonable explanation feels awkward.
"Oh, thank you again." He sounds so grateful it makes me uncomfortable.
"Please, don't thank me. You aren't troubling me. Your coat should be done in just a few minutes." I want him to stay longer, "Would you mind if I checked your bandages until then, I heard you tossing in your sleep." A small lie.
"I'm yours."
We both freeze.
"I-I'm sorry?" I sound like I'm choking.
His cheeks reddened, embarrassed that I made something out of that, no doubt. Especially when I've probably said similar things in reference to our partnership.
"I simply meant that you are the expert and are free to do what you want, er, need to."
"Ah, yes."
What do I do now?
Neither of us moves for a moment, like when you get stuck trying to pass someone in a door or corridor and do an awkward little dance. I don't want him to pass me. I don't want him to go.
Then he moves, walking to the counter, and placing his arm on it. I follow him, busying myself with readying the plastic sheeting.
He's in the same position when I come back, but lifts his arm and allows me to put the small section of sheeting under it.
I examine the bandages. I was right. As much as this is to keep him here, they do need changing. The wound is still weeping a lot.
"I'll need to clean and change it again," I tell him, but I think he may have guessed based on the way he eyes his arm.
The experience is completely different now that he's coherent. But he doesn't fight me on the removal of the bandages, I watch his face, his beautiful face, and on cue, he gives his silent permission.
He doesn't flinch as I unwrap it, eyes scanning the wound analytically.
He leans in, so close that I would barely have to lean down to kiss him. I'd never, of course, I could never. But the thought is very much there.
"I have seen far worse, usually I was the cause." He explains.
Right, the mafia.
Here, in this house, I could forget. But, I realise suddenly, that it doesn't matter at all, not when it comes to him.
The process goes so much more quickly this time. I hate that I wish it didn't, but before I know it, my hands are on autopilot, and he's in fresh bandages . . . and ready to go.
Where's he going to go? Surely not the agency dormitories? He doesn't want anyone to know he's injured. Or will he just hole up inside? Or does he have somewhere else? A street corner? I shiver at the thought.
He needs another dosage of medications since it's been so long. He must be in pain, but if he's driving, he should wait to take it until he gets back. I still don't trust him with a whole bottle. But I can send him with enough to get him through the night until tomorrow morning when I see him again. I'd best pick him up and take him here in the morning. Someone might see me and know I lied if I stay too long, and his dormitory isn't exactly sterile. (Maybe he's cleaned it? I've only seen it in glimpses.)
"You should take another dose of medication in about an hour. I'll send you home with a pill, you can pick up another one tomorrow when I change your bandages. It helps with the pain as well. Actually, I should take your temperature before you go. If you're still feverish, I'll drive you."
He nods, then cocks his head. "Come here? I appreciate it, but won't we be at the agency?"
Right, he doesn't know.
I told the President that we'd be out for a couple of days, just because I'd be in charge of caring for the wound since Dazai refused to go to a hospital or Yosano, but maybe that's changed now that he's not feverish.
"I was under the impression that you wanted the injury hidden. You told me you didn't want to go to the hospital or to Yosano, so I told the President that we were out on a case. He won't expect us back." It feels shameful and stupid as I say it now, but I press on. He needs to know. "I was actually wondering where you were going. You can't exactly go to the dorms, and I'd prefer to change your bandages here where I have my supplies . . . Or, of course, I could tell him we finish early if you would rather!"
He's just standing there, frozen. I can't read him.
After a while he says quietly, "You lied to the president?" The words are shocking. Of course, they are, I'm the last person one would expect to do that, I know.
"You seemed highly uncomfortable at the thought of anyone knowing so I . . . I just did."
He looks down. Even without a fever, I can see he still feels that way. "No, no, I won't make you lie further. I'll find a place to stay. An old mafia safe house should do just fine."
"Oh, Dazai, I didn't mean to-"
"You've done so much. I am fine now. I don't need luxury, just a quiet place to sleep." He looks pale.
He's not fine.
And I'm still not ready for him to leave, not ready to be alone with my thoughts.
He sits like a dutiful patient while I fetch his freshly dry coat. I'm not so deceitful as to wet it again.
He takes it, standing up once again.
"Let's do this again sometime, eh, Kunikida-kun?" The statement carries just a trace of his previous humour. His eyes are far away, the deep brown irises glassy.
Just as he reaches the door, I remember. I didn't take his temperature! Or give him the pills! I grab his wrist. He whirls around, startled, looking again like a caught animal. I wish he wouldn't, but I have to admit, what I'm doing is quite creepy.
"Wait. I need to make sure your temperature is down before you go. I don't want someone kidnapping you, eh?" The joke, like most of mine, falls flat.
Something sparks in his eyes . . . and then they go cold.
"Kunikida-san, I understand that you're just doing your job . . . but last I checked it's not your job to stop me from killing myself. Don't pretend to care so much, I am not your poor little charity case!"
Killing- who said anything about suicide? Is he planning to- Now? After he's done all this? Well, now there's no way I can let him go!
It looks like he's also realised his mistake. His eyes are stuck between wide open and narrowed to slits, it's odd. I take advantage of it.
"Dazai, please. I just wish to help."
He says nothing, to my relief, no sour words about my ideals, or my having a saviour complex. (I don't. I'm just ever so foolishly in love.)
I'm afraid that if I step away to get the thermometer, he'll run, so instead, I step forward, placing my hand under his fringe. The contact sends a spark through me, and it occurs to me that I've never really touched him before, a brush of the hand, maybe, and of course carrying him, but never this. He's still warm. Of course, he is. In my haste, I overlooked something important.
I learnt very quickly of Dazai Osamu's inhuman metabolism. It's how he processes all the junk food and alcohol so quickly. The medication must have worn off at least an hour ago. Has he been in pain all this time?
Oh, damn me!
"Dazai, I'm so sorry."
He doesn't look like he's heard me. He sways again . . . and then he's in my arms.
He weighs almost nothing against me, but I can't worry about that now.
"You know, Kunikida-kun?" he mumbles into my chest, "I think I'm still a bit tired from the medication. Maybe I will stay."
"Why did you not tell me?" But the question is more for myself. I know why.
I'm a task-oriented person. I need goals or I'll fall apart, I know this. So I make a list.
Check his temperature.
Make him eat something (somehow).
Give medication.
Attempt a cool bath.
Fresh clothes.
Sleep.
He's completely out. I can feel his breathing, slow and shallow.
Taking his temperature is easy, getting him medicated won't be. I ought to try a cool bath first before he can protest. It will help the most before the medication kicks in. I hate to cross his boundaries like that . . . then again, he seemed to give me permission when he agreed to stay.
Fortunately, I don't have to decide. He wakes when I move him, his breathing shifting into quick gasps. I want to tell him he's okay, but what use would that have?
"I'm going to give you a cool bath. You can keep your undershirt and pants on, but I need to get your temperature down, alright?"
He nods.
Thankfully, this bathroom was designed with two people in mind, so there's plenty of room for him on the counter. He mutters something that includes my name and the words "undress me". I think he's trying to be cheeky, but it falls flatter than any of my jokes ever have.
Getting into the bathtub is easy. He weighs much less than he should. I prop him up, but with the way he flops to the side, like a fish, I can't possibly leave him. He'll drown.
What to do, what to do? I can stay with him a bit, but I need to make more broth so he can take more pills. I'll think about it.
"Hey, you're just going to soak in here for a bit, so your body can cool down. May I wash your hair?" He's sweaty, so I may as well.
He nods, so I do.
The process is like nothing I've ever done. He "hmms" softly and I can feel him slipping into sleep under my touch. I thought that seeing him undressed (or in this case in just his pants) would be hard for me, but it isn't. All I can feel is concern, not pity, I don't see him as below me or anything, he remains my equal and as handsome as ever, but right now he just needs to be taken care of. He is not riddled with scars as I'd thought, but there is one, a large gash along his chest and other various small ones. It's hard to see them, though. In reality, the scars are perfectly visible, but when I look at him I don't see them, just those warm brown eyes.
The bath is working, and he feels much less hot than before. He's more alert as well. If he just stays in a bit longer he might return to a normal temperature, at least temporarily which would help until I can get medication in him, but I still have to cook . . .
"Okay. Here's a towel, you have to get out now."
He shakes his head, confused as if just having woken up. Did he really go to sleep just like that? He used to complain of insomnia. How ill is he?
"Don't wanna." His tone isn't clownish, but tired, so very tired.
"Dazai, I can't- you're not in a complete state of mind, you could hurt yourself."
"What if you could make sure I didn't?"
What's he got up his sleeves now? I make my scepticism clear on my face. "Perhaps, what do you have in mind?"
"I could sing to you . . . like in that movie with the little girl who's really an adult."
"What?" I'm not even going to ask.
"Like this" He hums a note, then another. I don't recognise the melody, but it's pretty.
"Fine. But If you stop, I will come right back in here, so don't try anything."
"Got it, Kunikida-san."
True to his word, he keeps humming as I start in the kitchen. The song is very nice. I'll have to ask him what it is when he feels better.
-
The broth, a slightly different recipe, to keep things interesting, finishes quickly. All that's left is for it to cool to an edible temperature, and to get Dazai into some clothes.
I'm only 8 centimetres taller than Dazai, so my clothes should fit him well enough. I pull out a pyjama set from the back of my drawer, it was a gag gift from Katai when I went to university, with a little nightcap and all. I leave the cap and take the folded set into the bathroom.
-
He looks so soft in the matching top and bottom that I can do nothing but stare. He sneezes, snapping me out of the trace. Right, his hair is still a bit wet. The last thing he needs is a cold.
He manages to stand, albeit with most of his weight on me, and follows me to the kitchen.
-
"Why are you doing this?" He asks as I set down the spoon. I helped him again. He didn't ask me to, even as a joke, and I wasn't sure he would if I didn't just- so I just did it . . . It would appear that, in some way, somehow I'm in this even deeper than I thought.
What can I say? Oh, I could say so much. What can I say that would be professionally acceptable?
"It's my job." AH, if there was an award for shit answers.
He sighs, "AH, right, duty-bound Kunikida-kun. Poor thing." The words are teasing, but I know him better than that.
-
He makes himself at home in the spare bedroom, out practically as soon as his head hits the pillow. When was the last time he slept in a real bed?
What do I do now? It's not that late, so I can't go to bed, but I can't go back to work, and there's now ay I'd let myself leave. I can't think of anything, so, as always, I stay.
He looks so peaceful, his breathing even, face relaxed. I gave him twice the normal dosage of medication.
Despite his apparent calm I can't help thinking that he should be in my bed. I want to hold him, to keep him warm and safe. I want him to know someone needs him, someone wants him. At first, I wasn't sure this new him even needed that anymore, but his behaviour today . . . I want to wake up and see his smile, a real one. I want to be the reason for it. I want to give him so, so many reasons to smile. And when he can't smile, I want to be there for him.
Looking at him like this, a sudden courage fills me. The courage to put pen to paper. I pull out my notebook and start writing, looking up every so often at Dazai's sleeping face, just to amke sure I phrase this thing I'm feeling right (if there's any way to physically capture it. I'd try even if I knew for sure there wasn't).
When I'm finally pleased, I close the book. It's dark out now. I must have been writing for much longer than I thought. Well, I guess I should get to sleep.
IDEALS [kunikidazai]
(A/N: I've been palying around with ship names for these two and came up with Ideal Human because together these two make one perfectly functioning person. Kind of like how Tachizaki is Midwinter Snow because if their abilities)
SUMMARY:
Dazai Osamu is the farthest possible thing from the ideal woman Kunikida Doppo has written so much about in his notebook.
And yet . . . Kunikida is hoplessly in love with him anyway. Kunikida doesn't belive he has a chance with his coworker, I mean, have you seen the way he flirts with women? Straight as the rulers Kunikida used to use in his maths class.
Dazai meanwhile is also inlove with uptight but still charming coworker. But how can Dazai ever come close to the woman Kunikida has in mind?
Will these two damn idiots figure their shit out or not? God, I hope they do, for all our sanity!
(Summary sponsered by Edogawa Ranpo)
Categories: angst, fluff, getting together
Warnings: N/A
Thank you to @wildroseroguefor inspiring me to write Kunikidazai for the first time. Rose has lots of Kunikida content on her blog, check it out.
#bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs#bsd#kunikidazai#kunidazai#Ideal Human#No Longer Ideal#knkdz#kunikidazai fic#kunikidazai fanfiction#kunikidazai fanfic#kunikidazai angst#kunidazai fanfic#kunikidazai fluff#kunidazai fic#kunidazai fanfiction#kunidazai fluff#kunidazai angst
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The World According to Kris (reverse!au) 1/4
K-008, Kritical or Kris to family and friends, suffers from Black Rust Disease, which is an infection that makes him rot from the inside.
Kris knows how much his family sacrificed for him and just wants to stop being a burden for once. He’s given that chance when he and his brother team up with humans to get their ticket back home. Maybe now, he can finally be the hero he always wanted.
Or
Reverse Roles AU and basically Kris takes Bee’s place in RotB, killed by Scourge trying to steal the transwarp key before being revived, followed by flashbacks on Noah’s and Kris’ life before the crash that sent hundreds of Cybertronians to Earth.
Ao3 Sneak Peek
Next
Kris has heard of the earthly saying, “your life flashing before your eyes.”
Oddly enough, when he felt his spark go out, the last thing he remembered wasn’t his life but the last conversation he had with his brother.
Kris remembers standing on a hill. The darkness of the night sky blocked the vision of any passing humans seeing metal aliens in the distance. The only thing illuminating is the shine of the stars against their plating.
Their human allies stand in a circle not too far from them. The blond teen Bumblebee stands next to his leader Optimus with the pink-haired motorcyclist Arcee standing on his other side. Mirage isn’t with them, busy grabbing the holotech promised to get Kris into the museum.
Kris is next to his brother and he spots the antennas on Noah’s helmet to flicker every few seconds. Clearly, the forest green Challenger wasn’t so fond of these squishy beings in the middle of their own mission to go home.
That doesn’t make sense. Humans are great! They made movies, video games𑁋although the one with the red plumber and the weird fire-breathing reptile is frustrating to finish𑁋and consume such colorful resources! The orange bot can’t help but envy the fact that he doesn’t have taste buds just thinking about it.
“What’s up with your face plate?”
Noah’s voice snaps Kris out of his thoughts, realizing the jealous scowl on his intake and immediately dropping his derma to a nervous smile.
“It’s nothing. Just thinking about how cool it would be to take a bite of those Earth cheeseburgers.” Kris assures his brother while trying to guess what a burger would taste like, “Do you think it’s like the Francium frankfurters back home or-”
“You know we can’t stay, right?”
Kris stops talking, looking up at the tall transformer. Noah’s voice was stern yet his expression looked delicate. It seemed he was afraid to offend the smaller bot while maintaining his usual serious older-brother persona.
The words regarding Earthly foods vanish from his glossa and the orange Viper just groans. “I know.”
A soft breeze leaves Noah’s cooling fans like an understanding but tired sigh, “You can’t get too attached to this planet. It will hurt even more when we have to leave.”
Kris grinds his denta. He knows that his older brother is just trying to protect him and he admires that. Everything that Noah has ever done was to protect him and his happiness, even at the sacrifice of his own. The memories of the bitter looks from everyone as Noah walked past them hurts just thinking about it and knowing those looks are because of him.
This involuntary visit to Earth would end eventually but that doesn’t soften the upcoming pain of having to leave this ruined yet beautiful planet.
Seven months ago when they crashed, the two brothers were separated. Noah was apparently all the way in Puerto Rico while the orange bot crashed near the border of New York all alone.
After a few Earth weeks, Kris had the bravery to venture into the city. With a teen holoform and a burnt orange pick-up truck alt, he drove into every part of New York. He ventured into Queens, Manhattan, and a bright red area they named Chinatown. He also visited Times Square where he copied the look of a beautiful Dodge Viper on display and had a newfound rage against human parking and traffic.
They were all flashy and beautiful but his favorite place was Brooklyn, mainly the small neighborhoods with kids that played on the streets, soft chatter from the sidewalks and the familiar feeling within the area.
Obviously, the place wasn’t completely safe—often startled and woken up by the sirens of the Decepticon police force almost every night—but something about this planet felt alive.
“You don’t understand.” Kris grumbles, trying to push down the frustration in his vocalizer, “Everything they make is so colorful! They don’t need movies, games or music to fight their bad leader. They just have it because they do!”
Kris looks away from his brother and onto the gathered humans with determination in their eyes as Mirage arrives. His silver Porsche pulls up and the driver begins to walk towards his team but first waving hello at the robots with the illusion disk at hand. Only Kris waves back in a similar manner.
“Their world is so messed up yet the Racers still have hope.” Kris crosses his arms and grins unapologetically, “So, sorry if I get attached. Human are just so fun!”
Noah’s brow plates furrow in confusion but now, his eyes gleam with a certain curiosity, “And how does fun help them survive?”
Surely in a world where humans are ruled under an iron fist, Mirage’s smile shouldn’t be as bright and wide at the sight of new friends and the hope in the Freedom Racers shouldn’t be so infectious.
“It doesn’t help them survive, it helps them live.”
Kris won’t ever know if Noah understood what he said or changed his mind about humans. He wouldn’t blame him after this.
A human controlling a Cybertronian’s corpse killed his little brother, who was trying to save humans.
The Viper isn't worried if Noah cares about humans. He worries how Noah will change.
Kris knew he died. He’s not stupid but not ready to leave his brother alone. Noah has always been protecting him and vice versa as much Kris tries.
With the younger one gone, who will protect his Sonic now.
#transformers#transformers rotb#transformers rise of the beasts#rise of the beasts#rotb#kris diaz#rotb noah#noah diaz#freedom racers au#reverse roles au#reverse au#knightverse#fanfic#fanfiction#read on ao3#cross posted on ao3#I know I said it would be a one shot but I swear there so much a girl could do#I'll make long chapters to make up for it#my man kris needs more love#although killing him in the first chapter isn't a good a idea to show my love
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Saiouma Puella Magi AU, but Kokichi takes Madoka's role and Shuichi takes Homura's.
For one, Kokichi's too naturally distrustful to just hear "I can grant you any wish :)" and not think ok where's the hook. So he just does what no one ever has & essentially interrogates Kyubey, so he knows it all even before he gets to make a contract. So, some of his classmstes are MGs & he won't become one himself BUT he still ends up tagging along to just protect them in his Kokichi ways. (Though I'm entertaining Kokichi lying about being a magical girl, because, well, it's Kokichi).
(I also got a small idea of Gonta being a magical girls and Kokichi originally tagging along him into labyrinths, Gonta also makes him a magic gun from the toy one he had, and at some point witches out & Kokichi manages to kill him with that gun. So he always has that spare Grief Seed on himself, bc it's still his best friend & he can't handle the idea of just giving it away or using it himself (he does anyway in the end).)
Shuichi prolly ends up being a new kid & it isn't like MadoHomu, the ppl who reach him first are Kaede & Kaito, classic. Kokichi's there, too, but he's his usual sus self. He's actually discouraging ppl from making a contract when they find out magic and miracles are real, which absolutely includes Shuichi. He's very vocal abt it, but he won't explain stutf, bc 1) he's a liar, so who'd believe him? and 2) he doesn't want them to witch out upon finding out the truth or, idk, murder everybody Mami-style.
Anyway, fast forward, bad things happen bingo & by the end of the run most charas are dead, there's Walpurgis nachting, and he makes his wish to bring back the ppl who died notably not as magical girls. Contract signed, he fights & fails, rip. I also thought it was similar to how he thought he could end the killing game by himself - he though he could finish Walpurgisnacht by himself, too. And he failed in both times. Whatevs.
Shuichi doesn't actually make his time travel wish for Ouma specifically, he wants to save all his friends. Timelines are messy esp at first bc he either tells then or it backfires or just makes himself look very sus bc he's trying not to tell them. He also realizes why Kokichi hadn't told anybody aby witches at some point, bc, yeah, it messes them a lot, assuming they believe it.
Still, Kokichi ends up one of the few people who are nearly always giving him a chance, not necessarily out of belief, but out of pragmatism - bro can stop time & knows the truth, that's just too useful. So they often work together & Shuichi grows closer to him but still we ain't there yet. But the thing is, Shuichi's time travel still makes Kokichi more & more powerful with each timeline, bc Shuichi usually goes back after Kokichi dies, so the universe figured out this guy's life's important. Anyway, another notable thing is the iconic Homura kills Madoka scene, but it's Saiouma with guest stars of Kaito & Maki. It's Walpy, it's not defeated yet, but the training trio are spent & just kinda accept their fate of turning into witches together. And then, boom, Kokichi appears & steals their Soul Gems for a sec & he's like did u know you can cleanse your Soul Gem with a darkened one? But it's a lie & he quickly tells them so, he just had a spare Grief Seed after cleansing his Soul Gem & he needs them to do some stuff. Shuichi can travel back in time & fix things, and Maki & Kaito are needed to fight Walpy here. He actually questions what happens to the timelines Shuichi leaves behin, and ofc he doesn't know. There's a chance they remain, so Kokichi needs Maki & Kaito to fight Walpy here.
Kaimaki leave, and Shuichi finally looks at Kokichi & realizes sth is Wrong. Kokichi struggles to hide how he's trembling & grimacing, and it's Kokichi, so obviously it must be extremely bad. Shuichi dreadfully realizes something worse, and he weakly asks Kokichi why aren't his wounds healing. And Kokichi just falls, laughing weakly, and Shuichi catches him & searches for his Soul Gem and, God, he knew it. It's nearly completely black. Kokichi laughs & admits he lied abt having two Grief Seeds, he only had one he never wanted to use. But they'll have the second one soon, so no need to worry. He asks Shuichi to maybe destroy his witch form as it's hatching, so he'll have the Grief Seed without any fighting… and he admits that he hates fighting, he hates this magical world and all its violence. He says that Kaito was right in calling him a coward, even here he just can't handle the idea of fighting any longer, he's so sorry. And Shuichi tells him he ISN'T a coward. He was scared, but he always followed everybody, trying to help, and when push came to shove he would always make a contract for the benefit of others rather than himself. He's a lot of things, but a coward isn't one. Kokichi actually tears up hearing that, and Shuichi promises he won't let him fight ever again, and especially he won't let him turn into a witch and hurt anybody, because he knows it's the last thing he's ever wanted. Even now he only accepts turning into a witch to help them fight to keep others safe. So Shuichi won't let him. Kokichi probably apologizes and thanks him and then he dies.
Keeping Kokichi from fighting starts off as a side quest that gains importance with time, bc it's something Shuichi won't compromise on (ah, trauma), which leads him to occassionally neglect others a bit, which makes them more likely to get hurt & ironically Kokichi more likely to make a contract, especially since he gets more powerful & Kyubey is more interested in him with each timeline. And that also makes him witch out super quick. Shuichi's paying more attention to him & over time grows resentful of others for how they're treating him. To Shuichi it's no question that Kokichi cares & is just doing his best to help, but nobody realizes that.
But the biggest obstacle in keeping Kokichi from fighting is actually Kokichi himself, bc he's too smart and nosy, lmao. Even if he knows nothing, he will find out quickly. Doesn't help that Kyubey wants him to make a contract.
Also, obviously Kaito is Sayaka-coded and Maki could be Kyouko-coded, so that's a thing, BUT it's usually Maki that witches out. Kaito is usually pretty close, but Kokichi intervenes & he survives, but Maki later cracks on her own (and since in the new timeline Kokichi isn't there, Kaito's the one to die, so he's still the secretary). So it's Kaito who gets the dramatic sacrifice. I imagine he genuinely hoped you could bring somebody back if you tried Very Hard & Kokichi called him a moron bc obviously it's not possible. If it was there'd be far less witches that there are. But it's Kaito, he doesn't listen to reason. So, Kokichi follows him to the labyrinth. At first Kaito's mad cuz what if Kokichi being there ruins the plan? Maki hates his guts! But eventually he gets hit pretty hard, and Kokichi is near immediately by his side, trying to help him get up, which kinda makes Kaito short circuit a little bc wait Kokichi's trying to help? But witch!Maki attacks them & Kokichi pushes Kaito away & gets caught himself (and choked until unconsciousness, naturally). Anyway, Kaito gets him away, Shuichi catches Kokichi & Kaito makes up his mind about going down with Maki & asks Shuichi to tell Kokichi that he's sorry. He doesn't get him, but he got hurt trying to protect him, so he'll believe in that if nothing else. F.
As for The WishTM, in the last timeline Shuichi lashes out at Kokichi for his willingness to just become part of the system. In no timeline has his wish actually helped, it did NOTHINHG, which OUCH but it also makes Kokichi think out of the box more & he becomes the Law of Cycles. And Shuichi realizes what is happening & freaks out bc Kokichi's doing it bc of what he told him & like Homura they end up having a momentTM in space & Shuichi remembers. He feels a lot of guilt even tho he also questions whether anything was real, but if it was, he pushed somebody he far too realized he loved into erasing himself from existence.
#hope it's not too long but i'll make it a read more if somebody thinks it is#i spammed discord i spammed bsky it's only fair i post it on tumblr too#kokichi ouma#shuichi saihara#saiouma#danganronpa#like obviously normally you'd go for something like Kokichi as Homura and Shuichi as Madoka and I'm just not that sure of it myself#like the vibes match at the first glance but the more I think about it the less it actually works for the characters in question#one of Kokichi's most defining chracteristics is that he cares a lot about everybody and frankly more than probably any other V3 character#but in a very... general sense if you get me. characters like Kaito and even Shuichi pick some people they like to care for and everybody#else is like whatever - sucked but now it's done like after Korekiyo's execution he says nothing abt him while both Makoto & Hajime offer#Celeste and Mikan some more thoughts and compassion; anyway obviously Kokichi doesn't care about say Kaede more than Shuichi but he still#gives all their lives the same amount of respect just for the sake of it; that's what makes chapter 4 so horrifying from his perspective#and also why in chapter 5 he isn't willing to do the same anymore and instead chooses to die himself so Maki of all people can survive and#so Kaito can go in a blaze of glory. and these two are arguably the two characters who treated him the worst (not that anybody treated him#well save for maybe Gonta and Kiibou). so i can't imagine Kokichi in Homura's role - reaching the point where he cares about only one perso#surviving while everybody else can die in a ditch bc the one time he picked his life over anybody else's he had a wholeass breakdown & then#killed himself several days later even though logically it would've made more sense to either kill Kaito who's dying anyway or throw Maki#under the bus since she was the one to fuck things up in the first place and proved herself to be a danger to the group.#Shuichi meanwhile he absolutely could given his lack of regard for some of the dead (Rantaro Ryouma idk abt Angie but I remember little#Korekiyo Miu and finally Kokichi himself) so he could snap at some point#anyway time to shut up it's getting long in these tags
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