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evenmoreofadisaster · 9 months ago

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EMD ONE-SHOT

As promised I’ve written One and Two being protective siblings since we passed the prelims. Read below 🖤

One

Consciousness pulls to the forefront of One’s mind. The slider snaps awake to the quietness of his brother’s lab. He blinks once. Twice, before registering the fact that he had passed out.

One sits up attentively from where he was sleeping against Two’s desk. “Oh, crap,” he hisses. “How long was I out?”

Nothing.

He’s trapped under a soft purple blanket that had been tossed lazily across his previously relaxed shoulders. One’s limbs fight for freedom, flailing around, eager to detangle from the cozy blanket, which he has no memory of cuddling up with. Finally free from his bounds, One climbs to his feet, clutching Two’s blanket in his hands. “Hey, if you were trying to get me to sleep, it didn’t work.”

Nothing.

One frowns. Now that he’s more awake, he realizes that it’s dead silent. Not even the sound of light tinkering reaches his tympanum to put him at ease. The slider spins around, hoping that maybe Two had just fallen asleep as well, but no. His chair is empty.

Dread seeps into his chest and his heart rate hammers as his eyes dart around the lab.

Where is my brother?

One curses himself mentally and searches the rest of the house. Every room he passes leaves him feeling more and more anxious. The last time he left Two unsupervised, it didn’t end so well for his brother. One’s spent every day since then trying to prevent another accident from taking place and risking Two’s life. He was lucky that he only lost an arm that day.

Every room, he ends up back-tracking and walking through the hallway empty handed. He’s not here. He’s not here. He’s not—

It hits him suddenly, like a wave crashing into a mountain of rocks, and he stops. A fuzzy memory resurfaces. Before he nodded off, Two had been talking about needing to stock up on scraps for future projects. One curses again, silently, in case Huginn and Muninn were perched somewhere nearby and heard him. It’s not unlike them to tattle to Dad whenever he misbehaves. This, especially, Draxum can’t find out about.

There is only one place Two goes to to find junk for his toys. That’s on the surface. The one place that’s more dangerous than their own home.

One rushes to his dad’s lab, thankful that his pops is out running errands, which makes stealing the blue mystic sword much easier. He’s only used it a couple of times before, under Draxum’s surveillance… but he can’t wait for his dad to come home and show him the right way to swing.

He pauses, then slowly reaches for it. When his fingers brush the handle, he almost flinches away, but remembers that Two is up there alone. He picks the weapon off its display and draws a breath, concentrating. In a quick sweep, he makes a portal just big enough for him to squeeze through. It’s not perfect, he thinks to himself, but it’ll do.

One loops the weapon through the sash along his waist and steps through.

Two

Repo’s scrapyard is just a few miles from the closest portal into the Hidden City. Two took the opportunity to slip away while Number One slept, figuring it would be a quick trip. After several days of sleeplessness, Two was sure One would not be awake for a while yet. By the time he noticed, Two will have returned with a wagon full of scraps.

The sky is dark and the moon shines bright. Two pulls his wagon through a narrow alley and takes the route he’s less likely to run into humans, the route he always takes to get to the scrapyard. The paved path takes Two through the woods that are behind the junkyard. It’s usually quiet, which Two appreciates. One accompanies him on most of his trips, unless Two manages to sneak out while his brother is occupied with training or asleep, like today, for example.

He’s almost there. Just a few more steps, until he reaches the torn back fence that gives him full access to the human’s metal scraps.

Something rustles far off to Two’s right, making him stop abruptly and swivel his head in that direction. An unsettling chill runs up his spine; the only weapon Two has is the brand new mechanical arm attached to his left shoulder, but even that is still in its early stages of development. He hasn’t had the chance to test out the new upgrades…

Two hesitates, but continues forward slowly, trying not to make any sudden moves too quickly. He takes a step and hears a growl coming from the same place, and that makes him freeze. He turns his head and stares into the darkness, where he finds two glowing orbs staring right back at him. The animal snarls, baring its sharp, hungry teeth. It inches forward, its crazy eyes glued on him as if he were its prey.

Two’s blood turns ice cold. His whole body tenses, prepared to fight. He’s certainly trapped, he can feel it even without looking. A fight would put him behind schedule, especially with untested weaponry and the months he’s spent out of practice. Two glances to the fence, thinking maybe he can make it if he runs. That was his first mistake.

The animal attacks while he’s distracted. The next thing he sees is the animal’s teeth gnashing into his face. Two throws his new arm out in defense, hoping to fire a blast, but the machine's transformation stalls. Two curses sharply. The animal’s jaws lock tightly around his metallic wrist. It tugs and thrashes, jerking Two forwards with too much strength. He stumbles. The arm creaks and cracks and Two can feel the wires in his shoulder start to tear. Panic screams at him in spite of him and Two aims a fierce kick at the mutt. That was his second mistake. It pulls and Two loses his balance. He falls back and the animal rips the mechanical arm off with one violent jerk. Pain explodes in his shoulder, but he doesn’t even get the chance to cry out before the canine pins him to the ground with its claws.

Something hard pierces his shell, probably a rock. The dull tip digs uncomfortably into his shell’s soft tissue, making him squirm and kick. The animal snarls in his face. Two flashes his teeth in a threatening hiss. But that’s all he can do. The thing is much bigger than he had anticipated, almost twice his size.

A flash of blue blinds him and the next sound he hears is a sharp whine when Number One tackles the beast to the side. All at once the pressure lifts. Two sits up and scrambles back, his whole shoulder throbbing.

He stares as One fights off the creature, apprehension stirring deep in his stomach when its teeth sink into One’s forearm and draws blood. It starts to pull him, like it had with Two, but One is much harder to throw around. He wrestles it to the ground, shoving its head into the ground until it’s forced to still. Two sees One lift his sword back and hears him swiftly bring it down through the animal’s neck.

Silence hushes through the alley as the rabid canine draws its last breath, and One gets to his feet and steps back. He doesn’t move after that.

Two stares at his back with wide eyes, silent, until One finally turns around.

“You okay?”

Two frowns. One’s stare is vacant. He’s been seeing that a lot lately.

“Are you?” He counters with a raised eyebrow.

One’s eyes trail to his bleeding arm, but he just shakes off the injury as if he’s had worse. “What, this? This’s like a papercut.”

”Scoff. It certainly is not.”

He watches One cautiously as he comes over and kneels in front of him. He places his hand over Two’s and gently moves it so he can assess the damage to the stump at his shoulder.

“You snuck out on me,” he says after a while.

Two turns his head away dismissively. “I needed my supplies. You needed to sleep,” he huffs.

“No, I needed to make sure you didn’t run off and get your fake arm torn off,” One retorts.

Two narrows his eyes and shrugs him off.

Number One rises and picks Two up by the back of his shirt. “C’mon, let’s get that shoulder cleaned up, okay?”

“I didn’t get what I came here for,” Two protests, but One is already waving the sword around, making a portal home. The blood-stained ōdachi falls at his side, then One faces Two and stretches out his injured hand that Two notices is shaking.

“I’ll come back with you tomorrow,” he promises. Two bites back an argument and swallows it thickly. There’s a slight lump in his throat that makes him avert his gaze.

He hates to admit it… but if he had One to tag along as usual, this entire debacle, most likely, would not have happened. But now he’s lost a prototype prosthetic without even reaching the gates of his destination. If there had been people around, the commotion he stumbled into could have gotten him into much more trouble than he’d been equipped to handle. The whole thing was just another disaster. All of this he knows just as well as One, which is why he complies, taking his brother’s hand and follows him home.

Two sits on the floor of the lab while One starts to assemble the tools needed to put his arm back in place. The softshell scowls when he sees Number One’s blood seep through the poorly wrapped bandages around his arm.

“Did you even clean it?” Two asks with a hint of distaste.

“I can do that later,” One crouches beside him and lays the tools out onto the floor. “So, what first?”

Two narrows his eyes. “No, you won’t.”

One lifts his gaze and holds Two’s stare. Two doesn’t look away. He raises an eyebrow. “You won’t.”

“If you don’t tell me which thingy-majig does what I’m going to start guessing.”

Two’s eyes widen. “Do not do that, you’re going to mess it up!” One’s hand drifts towards the screwdriver and Two just about loses his mind. “Not that one!” he barks. One stops and gives Two a smug look which he meets with a glare. He huffs, then sighs and starts to explain the process of attachment, making sure One follows his directions to the letter.

It takes much longer than Two would like, but finally, they reattach the mechanical arm and he can move it freely again.

One leans back. “There, done.”

Two flexes his fingers and rolls his shoulder. It could do with a few tweaks, but it’s good for now. He looks at One again as he gathers the tools and puts them away. The previously white bandages are now a much darker red.

After a moment, Two stands and approaches One. “Give me your arm.”

“What?”

Two stops and scowls. “Your arm. Let me see it.”

“I told you I was gonna—”

“Let me see it.”

One shifts, but stretches out his arm. Two grabs his wrist and unwraps the bandage around his forearm. Two’s nose scrunches up at the sticky mess under the wrap. One pulls back. “Don’t worry about it, I can take care of it.”

“I let you fix my arm,” Two retorts.

“Yeah, but you didn’t really have a choice.” “Neither do you.” Two turns around before One can protest and takes out the medical kit in the back of his lab. He gets One to sit then sits in front of him just close enough that he doesn’t have to reach to clean One’s wound.

Two drenches a cloth with alcohol and wipes away the blood staining One’s scales. Aside from a few grimaces and quiet hisses, One doesn’t complain any more. Neither of them say anything for a while, until Two cleans up enough red to be able to see the full size of the bite.

“You need stitches. And something to ensure you haven’t contracted a virus.”

“You think so, doc?”

Two glares at him and One closes his mouth, which is usually impossible for him to accomplish. But Two’s been noticing that a lot as well. A lot of things have started to change recently and Two’s not sure he likes it.

After a few beats of silence, Two retrieves a needle and wire. “I can sedate you, if you’d like.”

“Nah, I’m okay. I should stay awake in case you forget what Dad taught us.”

“I don’t need your help,” Two remarks sourly, then starts stitching.

“Are you mad?”

The question takes Two off guard. He pauses, sensing One’s frown, but continues to poke the needle through. He doesn’t know the answer to that, so he doesn’t say anything.

“You’re mad,” One states. “Why? Because I saved you?”

Two feels the corner of his mouth twitch. “That wasn’t supposed to happen,” he mutters.

“What, that dog thing showing up and attacking you?”

Two doesn’t answer that either, though his jaw tightens around an argument. He doesn’t want to fight right now. He hears One huff quietly. He doesn’t say anything else. Two continues to stitch him up in silence. When he’s finished, he wraps Number One’s arm with a fresh set of bandages. While Two puts away the medical supplies, One cradles his arm close to his chest.

“Don’t tell Dad about this or we’ll both get in trouble,” he murmurs while rubbing his wrist.

Two zips up the kit then lifts his head to look directly at One.

“I would never.”

#emd au #emd one-shots

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aireia · 4 months ago

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And now I'm burning brighter than your dreams. — He grieves for you.

Extra notes: Read part 1 here! The fic makes just about 0 sense without it unfortunately.

tw/cw: minor spoilers for chapter 261. no pronouns used for reader but uses she/her in first part. death. angst with little fluff. hurt with a little comfort. minor implications of suicidal thoughts. dreaming. mentions of blood. minor violence. blades. death. injuries. author's first language still isn't english. no beta we die like everyone. wc: 6.8K

note: This fic makes 0 sense to me. It sucks ass, but there's 2 days till my birthday so I decided to become a genshin character and send you guys a gift (angst) instead of someone sending me gifts instead. I also have no idea how to tag this. —masterlist

y/n l/n’s death has been confirmed by second grade sorcerer Megumi Fushiguro.

It’s been a few weeks since your death. Has it really been that long?

It's spring. The seasons have just shifted, and it’s still cold early in the morning. Megumi tries his best to get out of bed every morning, but the chilly breeze in the morning doesn’t help at all. It’s been like that for the past few weeks. He’d feel the cold air in the morning, and his mind would flash back to the time where he was holding you in his arms.

He remembers everything. It was especially cold on that winter night, which meant bodies got cold way faster after dying. He remembers wanting to get your corpse back to jujutsu high as quickly as possible, but that meant he would’ve parted from you faster than he would have ever wanted. In fact, if there were a choice, he doesn’t think he could ever let go of you.

Megumi remembers telling himself to hold you for just a while longer after you began to get cold, to give you the warmth you deserved. You’re a child too, just like he is, and from his knowledge, most, if not all children hated the cold.

He doesn’t remember being a selfish person. He’s only been like that once, for all he can recollect. Although he knows how he was when he cradled your body. His lips were trembling, his arms desperately trying to keep you close. He didn’t shed many tears, no, but he remembers his throat threatening to spill words such as “don’t go” or “don’t leave me”, yet he choked on all of them.

Megumi was certain it wouldn’t have cursed you, considering you were killed by a cursed tool, but for the short period of time you were hanging onto the thread of consciousness you had left, he was sure he would’ve cursed not you, but himself to death with his words had you heard him.

He hasn’t been doing much either. Every single day has been a constant loop for him where he struggles to get out of bed, does a bit of training, eats a bit, and heads back to sleep earlier than he usually would. His mind keeps yelling at himself that he’s being pathetic, and that you were the same as the people who come and go in a jujutsu sorcerer’s life. Despite that, he doesn’t quite understand why every part of him refuses.

Megumi doesn’t dream about you often. In fact, he hasn’t dreamt of you for over a month now. It's for the better, he thinks, and he hopes it stays that way. Though, there's a part of him that wishes he could see you every time he closes his eyes, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. No, actually, screw that. Your name has rotted in everyone’s mouths. It tastes like vomit and dust on their tongues.

“They didn’t even give you a proper burial,” Megumi thought to himself before his eyelids finally closed. He doesn’t know what they did to you after he turned your corpse in. He doesn’t want to think about any of that either.

Thinking too much was going to be the reason he died, he swore of it.

Megumi can hear the sound of soft grass swaying. Wasn’t he in his room just a few moments ago? For once, he can breathe the air normally without feeling like he doesn’t deserve to, and the sunlight is kissing his eyelids so beautifully, so much more gently compared to the morning breeze that pricks his skin.

He opens his eyes, and Megumi finds himself in a field of blooming flowers. He softly reaches out to touch the petals before standing up. He walks around the place, the sound of the grass rustling as he walks around now the only thing in his ears.

Megumi stops and takes a large breath of fresh air. If he could, he’d live here forever, he thinks.

Then he spots a butterfly fluttering around him. It’s pretty, a shade of deep purple and black, and he can’t help but follow it as it flies away from him. Suddenly, he feels like he’s three again, and although he doesn’t remember most of his childhood, he vaguely remembered that he would play like this with his mother.

He loses the butterfly a little while later, and he’s greeted by falling sakura blossoms. He reaches out to touch the pastel pink flower, only for it to dissolve as soon as it comes in contact with his hand.

Megumi walks up to the tree, looking up at the flowers to see the sunlight that bled through the gaps. Then, he spots someone else. Someone who’s also wandering around, lost, like a child without direction.

His eyes shot open. Megumi touched his face. It was covered in beads of sweat, and his hands lightly trembled, he swears he saw you in the distance. You weren’t facing him. He walked around the field, aimlessly wandering around while admiring the violet butterflies that danced around the flowers, just as he did.

He walked up to you, and there you are. That’s when he woke up.

“2am..” Megumi sighed once he looked at the clock on his nightstand. You’re in his dreams. Damnit. He’s not saying you weren’t before you died, but then, everything was simple. He dreamt of your futures together, not what this was.

He wasn't able to fall back asleep after that, tossing and turning on his head, only thinking of the image of you in the field of flowers. You looked so beautiful, and he wondered for a moment if it could be reality. It’s selfish, but he really wants it to be.

“Woah Fushiguro! You look more tired than usual today. You sure you don’t wanna sit this one out?” Yuji asked the next morning, clearly concerned. Of course he was. Anyone would be if they saw the dark circles under his eyes.

“I’m fine. Let’s go,” he replied, stretching in hopes of getting rid of the tiredness he felt. Each step he took after that felt heavier than the last, and Megumi felt like crumbling to the ground and falling asleep, but the world continues to spin no matter how he feels, so he decides to continue taking missions and working himself to the bone.

At first, it’s fine. He easily distracts himself from the thoughts of you, but with each second that passes, he finds it harder and harder to do so. He’d thought that he would be able to forget you, but it seems to haunt him more and more now.

He doesn’t get it. He remembers when Yuji died for a few weeks after he met him, and he easily got rid of the heavy feeling in his stomach, but now you’re gone forever, and if he’s honest, he never knew much of you, or had that much time with you, and it was a single dream, so why can’t he return back to his normal self?

Despite all the thoughts that plagued him, the day passed by quickly… He thinks.

It felt like a long time when they were battling, but everything before and after that is a blur of memories he couldn’t bother to recall. Maybe it’s the injuries the curse inflicted on him that’s messing with his mind. Or it’s just like any other day, bleeding and merging into each other.

“Another dream…” Megumi thought to himself when he opened his eyes to see the dark sky. He’s lying on something hard. The floor, probably. He stretched his arms and sat up, only to get startled by you, who’s holding up a lantern in front of him. He stares at you for a while, trying to process finally seeing you, and you cupped his cheek with your free hand.

“It really is you. You disappeared just as I was about to call out for you last time,” you said, smiling. You set the lantern down and hugged him tightly, and Megumi couldn’t help but feel a little odd at the warmth of you. He’ll remember this feeling, he tells himself, because at least, he wants this nice, warm feeling to replace the final time he touched you before this, when your skin was cold to the touch.

“Where are we?” Megumi asked as you helped him up after you parted, and you picked the lantern back up. You looked in the sky, where the clouds swirled and drifted. “I don’t know,” you answered with a cheeky smile. You’re just the same as ever.

You grabbed one of his hands and began running towards the nearest door. “I guess we should explore, right?” you laughed, entering the manor, both your footsteps now echoing through the empty halls.

The walls were mostly lined with paintings of people you both recognised. Gojo and Shoko, along with a painting of a male with long, dark hair. The both of you slowed down to admire the art, and as you walked along the halls, you realised that the mysterious person’s paintings had been torn, namely the large gash that ran along his forehead.

As you kept going to what seemed to be an endless gallery, Gojo’s paintings also seemed to be growing weirder and weirder. His were stained with crimson, and eventually, his paintings too shared the same destruction as the ones beside him.

Shoko wasn’t in the frame of her paintings anymore.

Megumi was about to push the door to the next room open when you suddenly asked, “How’s everything been?” and his hand froze.

“It’s not been the best,” he answered, not wanting to go too much into detail. You didn’t want to push him, but if only you did, because right now, you miss him too.

The door opened to a garden, casted over by the shadows of the plants and trees. There’s a table in the middle of it, with tea and coffee and snacks. It seemed like too much of a set up for a date. Megumi wonders because it’s his dreams, maybe this is what he wanted when you were alive? To take you out to a coffee shop, one where there were barely any people so you could focus on each other.

Without thinking, he pulled you over to the table and pulled the chair out for you, before walking over to one of the bushes and plucking out a rose for you. He goes back to you and slips it into your hair, brushing some of it out of your face to admire your pretty eyes. You’re the same as ever, and he thinks it’s the best thing that he’s felt in the past few weeks.

Megumi pours a drink for you before sitting down to sip on his coffee, shyly biting into the cookie that you offered him with that pretty smile on your face.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed in this dreamland before the both of you finally get up and start walking around again. This time, you’re looking at the many flowers grown in the garden, and by the time you reach another door, you’ve woven a flower crown and placed it on Megumi’s head.

The both of you stared at the wooden door in the middle of the garden. Considering its location, it was safe to assume that this was the pathway back to the real world. You felt his lips brush against your forehead before he opened the door, and then he was gone.

Megumi awakens this time from the sound of knocking on his door. He looks at the clock on his bedside. It’s already 9AM in the morning. He lazily throws himself out of bed, before rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, then opens the door.

“Wow. Look at this guy.”

Nobara pointed at his bed head. Her and Yuji were both dressed in casual clothing, ready for the day as compared to him, who still looked half asleep in his dark, long sleeved shirt. Megumi listened to the duo talk for a while before they focused their attention on him.

“Fushiguro! Did you not listen to anything we said on the way back from our mission last night?” Nobara asked.

“I was asleep.”

“Then go get ready or something!” she half yelled, and pushed Megumi back into the room.

Once Megumi stepped back out, he was immediately dragged off to Shinjuku, where they continued to pull him around while shopping for sweets and clothes and just about anything. Just for those few hours, his mind was lifted from the thoughts of you, and he felt a little at peace, even though you were still in the back of his mind.

He felt a little guilty. Even though his expressions don’t show it, he feels so, so happy for the first time in weeks with his friends, but you aren’t here to feel it with him, and he can’t help but feel like he can’t feel what he does, because he wants you to be beside him too.

He looks at the sight in front of him, drinking in how Nobara and Yuji looked trying to win a plushie from the claw machine, his own breathing the only sound in his ears as the chatter of passer-bys drown out every other sound. The two are raging over a rigged machine, the sensitivity of the claw set just a little too high for it to be able to tightly grip the plushies.

And then, he thinks of you.

Through his eyes, he can picture you laughing along with them. You would’ve loved this. You would’ve loved every part of the life they lived.

After they successfully managed to bag two plushies, they continued their journey, running around Shinjuku before they ended up at a mall, where they took Megumi to a photobooth.

Yea. You would’ve loved this.

That night, Megumi pulled out the drawer of his nightstand where he kept your photo and compared it with the new photo in his hand. He noticed that Yuji had a few new scars on his face, Nobara looked a little bit more mature, and he… Still had his eyebags. And the most noticeable difference, you weren’t in the picture anymore.

He places both of them into the drawer and shuts it. He wants to take another picture with you again. Just the two of you, together.

“What’s it like being dead?” Megumi blurted out. He was dreaming again. You take your eyes off the cloud like fish that turn into mist at every touch. A whale swam by just then, turning into smoke and mist the moment Megumi reached out to touch it.

You stared at him, mind wandering. You fixed your gaze back on the creatures around you as you walked through the aquarium, and finally responded. “I’m just… There? I guess.”

“That isn’t an answer,” he said, slightly side-eyeing you, and you laughed. “I can’t say. I haven’t been dead for long, have I?” but that’s only to you. To Megumi, it’s been a lifetime without you, and hearing you say it again reminded him of just how much he’s grown to lean on your shoulder when he felt weak.

“Or maybe it’s because I’m waiting for someone that I’m putting off finally laying my soul to rest,” you said, pressing your finger against the glass of the aquarium tanks and watching as curious sea creatures gathered.

“Who?” Megumi asked, only for you to turn around and boop his nose with your finger.

“You, obviously.”

“You want me to die early?” He questioned again. What? Where’d he get that type of idea?

“Silly boy,” you laughed, grabbing his arm before running towards the exit of the aquarium, the stray animals around you disappearing as you ran through them, leaving large trails of mist behind you, as if you were deconstructing Megumi’s dreams for him, leading him back where he belonged.

“I’d wait an eternity for you, so don’t come here too early.”

When he woke up again, the rain outside was as heavy as ever. With the way it’s pouring down, it looks like there’s clouds of mist everywhere. That would explain why he dreamt of… Whatever that was. He pressed his finger against the panel of the window, wondering if there was even the slightest chance for him to create shikigami that resembled the ones in his imaginations.

Actually, nevermind. That sounded stupid.

Megumi got ready for his day. For once, he felt just a little bit more energised. Maybe it was because he felt reassured. You’re waiting for him, and he won’t be alone. Even if he can’t see you now, but still! He knows now that if he does somehow die, which you wouldn’t be happy about, at least he’d be able to have all the time in the world with you.

The grief doesn’t feel as heavy anymore, now replaced by his hopes that you’d keep visiting him in his dreams, entering his mind and pulling him out of his own, it felt almost as if it were him who was in your dreams, and not the other way around.

It’s been a few months now, and he’s dreamt of you so, so many times. Each time he left those dreams meant that he made new memories with you– something you weren’t able to do in the real world. Megumi can’t help but find himself wanting to be with you more. He wants to make up for the lost time, for every second he wasn’t able to be by your side. If anyone knew, they’d call him obsessive. Hell, they’d say anything, but to him, this felt like hope he seemed to have lost.

He sat in his bed, reading one of his novels. Actually, reading… Wouldn’t be the right term here. He found himself mindlessly staring at the words and flipping through pages he hadn't read as he thought and dwelled on memories from when you were still alive.

Megumi looked out the window of the classroom. It’s autumn again. The trees have begun to turn a shade of orange, the wind has gotten just a little colder, and everything seemed a little bit duller.

Today, grey clouds covered the skies, and he looked at the front of the class. It seemed just like the day you first stepped foot into campus, where one day they’d all get permissions and have sleepovers and drink hot chocolate, and he can’t help but feel a little saddened.

Now all the memories he has of you are from the figments of his and your imaginations. Is it so wrong for him to wish to see the stars with you again? Is it so wrong for him to wish for you to take his first kiss in the winter on the roof again?

Megumi wants nothing more right now than to relive each of those memories, and with each passing second, he finds himself wanting to do those things in his dreams, even though he can’t control any of them.

“It’s almost winter? Brings back memories,” you breathed out, walking ahead of him. “I wanna play monopoly with you guys again. I was so close to winning last time.”

“Why couldn’t we have ended up like that?” Megumi asked you one day.

He was at a beach with you this time. When he opened his eyes, you were dancing in the cool water, freer than any bird with your arms spread wide to welcome the breeze and sunlight that kissed your skin.

He was mesmerised by the way you moved, and before he knew it, you pulled him by his arms to dance with you, the warmth of your hands surrounding his skin. And then, you sat by the ocean with your feet in the water, your head resting on Megumi’s shoulder.

“It would’ve been selfish,” you replied to his question, closing your eyes to listen to the sound of the waves.

“It’s okay to be,” he retorted. “We could’ve been so much more.”

Silence took over, and you think for a moment. He’s right. You could've been everything.

“There wouldn’t have been a point to it with what I was.” There was bitterness in your voice. “And besides, I don’t have the right to feel that way.”

“I should’ve been more selfish for you.”

You looked at the water splashing over your legs and stood up, slowly making your way to the deeper parts of the water. Maybe it's your fault for showing up so much, but you miss him just as much as he does, and you're unsure of how to get him to stop, or for you to let go, too.

“It’s time for me to go. See you?”

The uncertainty in your voice made him feel worried. He got up and tried to reach out towards you, wanting to do anything to keep you from leaving again, but the waves had consumed you before he could, and suddenly, his eyes were open, and he’s awake.

He doesn’t like how quickly the dream went by.

He doesn’t dream of you again after that. You’re always on his mind, just like usual, but he can’t seem to speak to you or dream of you. Each day spent was a day spent in disappointment, and he doesn’t want to stop trying.

Megumi could walk down the streets and see various flowers and plants, or a pretty bird you’d like, and he’d want to talk to you about it.

Despite how strong his desires are, he can’t find you anywhere. He swears he’s about to start writing letters to heaven and somehow hoping they get to you. He’s dreamt of you so much now he’s starting to think you’re alive again, and more often than not, he finds himself picking his phone up and clicking on your contact in hopes of being able to text you about his day, and for you to respond to him, but that won’t happen, and he knows it.

And then all of it repeats. He’s going to bed earlier and earlier, hoping that by some miracle that he was going to see you in the fog of illusions his brain made.

But you never showed up, and he was getting tired of it. He found it harder to concentrate on missions, because there were just so many things he wanted to tell you, and he kept telling himself to remember because he’ll see you again, and then he’ll get to tell you of everything he’s seen, because you were never able to see them.

He’s so full of you, you, and you, and all the heart he has for you, so please, he begs, for once he's found something he can look forward to, why won’t you just comfort him again?

“Megumi…”

His eyes opened abruptly to scan his surroundings. Another few months have passed, and a year has probably passed since you first started appearing in his dreams, he’s finally heard your voice again. There’s nothing around him. It’s pure darkness, and he can hear your voice echoing somewhere.

Megumi started following the sound of you, and eventually, the ground crunched with each step he took. He looked down. He’s stepping on white snow, then he looks up again, and there’s a trail of blood.

And he hears your voice in that direction.

He gulps and freezes. His legs are physically impaled into the ground, as if something were holding him down, and he can’t find it in himself to move. And then he thinks, and thinks, and you’re in danger, and suddenly, he takes one step, and then he’s running towards you.

The trees seem to become blurry as he increases his speed, and he doesn’t know how long he’s been running. One moment it’s dark, and then there was light as he stepped into the snow, and now, the sun has set, and he’s running in hopes of reaching you before he fails you again.

He’s panting heavily, his legs are about to give out from the running, and he finally sees you. The blood on the ground he saw earlier had gotten thicker with every step he ran, and he sees you laying in the cold snow again, with your arm extended towards the skies. There’s a star you’re hoping to grasp, to reach and it’s shining so brightly, so radiant and pretty for everyone in the world to see as you finally realised– It’s always been out of your reach.

Megumi ran towards you and pulled you into his arms. He wondered to himself just as he did it, what is he doing? Why does he have to experience this again? It’s completely the same, and he can feel how cold your body is.

He feels like he’s on autopilot, vision shaky and blurry as he holds your freezing hand up to his cheek, and he can feel his heart thumping in his chest, his mind running thousands of miles per second, and yet just one word from you snapped him out of all of it.

“I’m sorry.”

For some reason, Megumi dreaded that you’d apologise. He didn’t want an apology. He knows you felt guilty for the pain you’d caused him, but he’s over it. He could never hate you, because why would he? How could he hate you when you gave him company, love, and comfort? How could he hate you when he’s himself?

He doesn’t respond to you. Not this time. Instead, he looks up to see the moon, and just as he thought, there wasn’t any moon again, because why would there be when it was right beside him? And for how much you loved the sun, isn’t it cruel that it never shone upon you?

His eyes shot open again. It feels even worse now. He knows it’s just a dream, but you were dying, and he’s awake, and he wonders if he was still there holding you so you felt warm before everything went dark. He stares at his hands. It’s not stained with blood. Not anymore, for he washed it off over a year ago, so why does it feel so devastating knowing it wasn’t real?

Perhaps it was the feeling that he’s failed you again, and there wasn’t anyone by your side, or maybe he’s thinking from your perspective. Maybe he was never beside you and he’s invisible in his dreams, and you think you don’t deserve the grace of a little mercy, just a little bit of company and kindness when you die.

The tight feeling in his chest from the day he woke up after your passing was back again, and he can’t help but think it’s only gotten worse.

Megumi wipes the sweat off his forehead and gets up. He has a solo mission today. He can’t mess up again. Not when you’re no longer around to have his back.

Once he’s ready, he meets up with Ijichi, who briefs him on his mission while driving. It seemed easy enough. Worst case scenario, he’d run into a grade two curse, which he wouldn’t have that much of a problem defeating.

So why exactly was he being stared down by such a creature now? He can’t help but feel a sense of deja vu. This exact thing has happened before, but at least you were there at the time. Now, he’s alone, trapped in a veil with no way to contact the outside world, and with the way the curse looks, he feels that he’s about to be beheaded.

He snaps out of his thoughts when the curse swings at him, and he barely dodges the attack. He’s convinced he would’ve been turned into minced meat. He can’t do this. He can’t, not alone.

He needs you, but you aren’t there again.

He knows he can’t keep dodging forever. His stamina would run out soon, but every single attack he tried to deliver just wasn’t working. Nothing was. Every hit given was just another dent in his blade. It’s near its breaking point too, he can tell.

Megumi’s eyes close as another impact lands on his weapon, and he doesn’t process it, but another hit, and everything hurts. He’s not sure if he’s broken a bone or not, or if anything inside his body is bleeding, but he’s very, very sure that he’s bleeding out. He’s tired.

He doesn’t want to do this anymore. He can’t bring himself to get up. He can only stare at the curse before he finally blacks out.

“Hello?” he hears a voice sing out, and his eyes flutter open. “You’re awake, finally”

You’re looking down from above him.

“What… Where am I?" Megumi questioned you, looking around the blank space around him.

“The border between life and death. I'm just here to make sure you don't die early, that's what partners are for, right?” you crouched down and flicked his forehead.

“You’re dwelling on me too much. It’s been a year, you know?” you looked straight at him, noticing that he was avoiding your gaze. “...It’s because I've been appearing in your dreams, haven't I? That's what's holding you back.” Megumi finally looked at you at the mentions of his imaginations. Yes, you have been in his dreams. You are his dream, but he doesn’t want you to feel bad because of it.

“I don’t want to let go.”

You sighed at his words and sat down next to him. “Megumi, you have to understand that I’m only a small chapter in your life. I’m not much of a psychologist, but that chapter has ended– Our chapter has ended. You’re still young, Megumi, there’s so much you can experience, so don’t end it all–”

“You were young too,” he blurted out. “You had a lot you could’ve experienced too, but you couldn’t.”

“I wanted to live beautifully too!” you suddenly snapped at him, and everything went silent.

The tension between you two only increased with each passing moment, and you both sat in silence for a while. Truthfully, you were wondering how much time had gone by while Megumi was unconscious. You felt like there was a weight in your heart, a lump in your throat, something that prevented you from speaking.

You finally decided to speak up after some time. You needed a way to get him out of this place one way or another.

“Say, Megumi. What do you see me as?” Once you asked, he didn’t hesitate to respond.

“The moon.”

"Even after so long you're still looking at me as if I were the moon," you chuckled.

"...It's unfair." You whipped your head to face Megumi when you heard the crack in his voice. "What's unfair?" You shakily reached out for him, but stopped when tears began to stream down his face.

“Megumi–”

"Not just the moon," he interrupted through his hiccups. "I wanted to make you my entire universe."

You sharply inhaled, and pulled him towards you. He clung onto you. You noticed how his hands were tightly gripping onto your shirt, and you gulped. “I’m sorry,” you choked out. “I’m sorry,” you said again, running your hand through his hair.

“I never properly apologised to you for hurting you, did I? I’m sorry.”

The next few minutes were filled with apologies, his tears staining your sleeves. You pulled away after he stopped crying, your hand now tightly wrapped around his. “Megumi, listen. You have unfinished business. You need to get up and go, or I'll kill you myself.”

“Don't steal my lines,” he weakly croaked out in between sobs.

Megumi sighed and wiped his tears away, finally standing up. He couldn’t help but notice your hand tightening around his just a little after he helped you stand.

“I’m gonna miss this feeling once you go,” you confessed to him, fingers now running over his calloused knuckles.

“I have a request, Megumi,” you said, smiling at him. “I know I told you to move on, and I won’t appear in your but remember me every once in a while, okay? Somehow, I feel that there isn’t another soul that’ll remember me for anything good I’ve done,” and he bites his lips at your words. It’s true, everyone will forget you.

“Hey, wait,” Megumi says before you pull away from him. “Do you think I’m going to be alone when it’s my turn to die?” he asked.

You wondered for a while, then responded, “You won’t,” you said as you interlaced your fingers together. “You’ll be surrounded by so many people, and they’ll be there to help you live on for so much longer, I’d doubt you ever died,” you continued.

“Even if you are, and you feel alone” you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him goodbye one last time. “I’ll be here to kiss your lonely soul,” you teased, and he smiled before you detached yourself from him and turned around to walk away.

“Don’t take that as an invitation to come here early!”

“Oh! And let’s meet up on that mountain again. Under the tree!” you waved.

Megumi’s eyes opened. He looked around him. There were remnants of curses that weren’t there before he became unconscious.

“He’s awake!” Yuji shouted, and Nobara came over to help him walk to the car they came in with Nitta.

“We got worried about you since you didn’t come back,” the pink haired male said, helping him into the car before the both of them got to (aggressively) bandaging him up. He looks at the clock at the front of the car. It’s late.

Once they got back, Megumi got out and began walking in the direction towards the cliffs. “Hey! We need you to get checked by Shoko! She’s been waiting ever since we started searching for you!”

He groaned, but begrudgingly followed them, and all the way throughout his check-up, he’s only been thinking about everything you’ve said to him. The minute it was over, he darted out the door and ran for the cliffs.

Megumi was panting slightly when he got there. He went right after the mission, with blood still staining his uniform. The moon hung high in the sky, watching as he summoned his demon dogs and began digging the spot under the tree. Megumi began clawing at the soil using his hands at one point, getting dirt stuck in between his nails and fingers. He only stopped when he found a slightly rusted metal box.

The boy didn’t know what to expect inside, taking a deep breath and gulping before his shaky hands lifted the cover of the box.

Megumi saw a few pictures of you and him, some of the accessories you wore, a book, and a piece of letter that had been neatly folded.

He sat down under the tree and unfolded the letter, and began reading.

My blessing,

Truthfully, I don’t really remember my first day at the school anymore, because when I stepped foot into campus, my goal was to get information from all of you, acting like a shadow that didn’t exist. I know that I felt alone before that, but before I knew it, I had been shone upon by stars that burnt brighter than even the sun, but yet, you seemed to be the darkest shadow among all the students.

I planned to die from the first day, but I only made it worse by getting closer to all of you. Had I not done so, you wouldn’t be feeling any of the grief you do.

I’ve only been in your life for a few months, Megumi. I want to think I’ve made a change in your life., because I’m looking back on it right now, and you’ve made such a big impact in my life. All of you.

Come to think of it, we never got to see spring together. Next time we see each other, let’s meet in spring, so we can have picnics at night while wishing upon the stars, just like children do.

And I’ll make sure I’ll be the one to greet you first, because you were the one who waved to me first in this life.

Let’s meet again in a more forgiving world.

He held the letter in his hands after he read it, trying to figure out what he felt about it. His eyes are blank, and he’s cried so much for you that he doesn’t know if he has the energy for it anymore.

A heavy feeling settles on his heart as he sets the letter down and picks the book up. It was a book he’s wanted for a while, something he mentioned to you once while you were stargazing, but he never brought it up to you again afterwards.

Megumi flips open the cover, and there are wilted sakura blooms pressed flatly against the blank page, along with your handwriting.

“They bloomed early this year, Happy Valentines Day, Megumi.”

He continued flipping through the pages, and you had annotated the book, highlighting everything you felt he would look back at, the cute moments between the people in the book that reminded you of the both of you, and a bookmark made of wilted flowers that bloomed all year round on the page of the couple’s wedding.

Suddenly, he feels tears in his eyes again, and they overflow and drip onto the pages, slightly staining them. You told him to move on, but how could he? It was obvious you were lying to him again. You never planned to die. Even if you did, it’s obvious you never wanted to die. You wanted to spend your life with him. You wanted to swim in the ocean at night together, you wanted to wake up next to him, go on dates to carnivals just to ride the ferris wheel and admire the view of Tokyo.

And then it finally sunk into his soul that he’d never see you again. Not now, at least.

His hold around the book tightened, and he hugged his knees close to his chest. He wished on every universe that you’d somehow appear beside him and wipe his tears away, chasing away the heavy feeling in his heart. He knows the feeling is temporary, and it’ll go away in a while, but he feels so alone.

By the time he finally stands up, his legs ache from how long he’s been sitting on the ground, and the sun is peeking through the horizon. He’s been consumed by his own thoughts for hours, and he thinks maybe it’s in his mind, but just as he turned around to walk away, a breeze of air went by him, and it felt as if something hugged him, just for a second.

The universe is watching over him after all.

February 14th, two years after your death.

Megumi’s back at your spot again. This time, there’s a grave he had made for you, with a few plants planted beside it, and the ribbons tied around the stems sway in the wind. He sits down beside it and his fingers graze the tips of the soft grass.

He closes his eyes, and he realises he can no longer remember what you look like. Well, not really. He remembers clearly what you look like. He still has the picture all of you took at the mall together, and he holds it dearly, but all of them have grown, and it’s not enough to remember you anymore.

There are new scars around their bodies, they’ve grown taller, become stronger. Megumi wonders what you would’ve looked like if you stood beside him now.

He looks around him, and maybe that’s his answer. The grass is greener, the trees have grown taller, the waves of the ocean are just as if not even more calming now…

You would’ve turned out just fine.

He can’t remember how many times he’s reread the book you’ve given him, but he finds himself turning to the page where the two lovers separated.

“Do you think we’ll be like this forever?” the protagonist asked her partner, and you highlighted the phrase, a small note made in the gaps between words.

“Not forever, but definitely for a long time.”

Year ????

A young male with black coloured hair is walking through a park in Tokyo. The sun is shining brightly, and there are sakura flowers blooming. Some petals have fallen onto the sidewalk and grass, and he inhales deeply before stopping to admire… Everything.

The world looks especially pretty today. He doesn’t know why, but the sky seemed to shine just a little brighter.

A rare smile graces his lips, and he spots his friends and teacher waiting for him under one of the trees, all set and ready for a picnic. Someone taps his shoulder just before he takes a step forward, and he turns around to face someone with a face that seemed too familiar.

You.

He sees you. You, who’s waving at him with that smile on your face that he adored.

by user @ aireia, do not plagiarize and/or translate.

#signed by aireia!#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagines #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro x you #fushiguro megumi x reader #jjk angst #megumi x you

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pr0cyon-lotor · 2 months ago

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I would like to hear about your BingFan "slay the princess" au please <3

I'm going to rant so hard rn thank you for asking :D

(It's been a hot minute since I played Slay the Princess but I will replay it to write the fic. But honestly the plot will be different anyway so meh ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

Okay so the plot is based on a PIWD-like timeline, so it is quite dark because I am very weak to toxic yaoi. A lot of the things are similar but the most important difference is that Bingge became obsessed with Ming Fan for some reason.

I'm planning on making it that this Ming Fan had a bit of a stronger moral compass and did step in a few times whenever Shen Qingqiu was getting way too cruel to him. But Ming Fan was never a saint, he still did envy Luo Binghe and bully him. He just wasn't that bad.

That was enough for Bingge to become obsessed with the smallest hint of kindness shown to him by an authority figure. It doesn't change him for the better, it probably even changes him for the worse.

When later on he becomes the emperor, he does pick up a harem, but he doesn't even bed them and dangles the prosperity of being his "favorite" to manipulate a lot of them.

When Cang Qiong starts to crumble, he does take Shen Qingqiu hostage. Except he uses him to lure both Yue Qingyuan and Ming Fan. Yue Qingyuan falls the same fate, but Ming Fan doesn't he gets imprisoned instead.

Bingge tells him that if he agrees to marry him, he'll release Shen Qingqiu and cease his rampage on Cang Qiong. Ming Fan agrees and becomes Luo Binghe's empress and the only one he has actually bedded (the harem is NOT happy).

The thing Bingge didn't tell Ming Fan is that Shen Qingqiu is in a jar and dying and that Cang Qiong had crumbled while he was imprisoned. When he finds out, he tries to kill Bingge and then himself when he was unsuccessful with that.

Luo Binghe locks him in one of the towers in the palace and forbids anyone from entering. He delivers food to Ming Fan and forces him to eat when he refuses to.

During the usual routine, he finds Ming Fan dead. A pristine blade in his chest. He spends days trying to figure out who was responsible and ends up slaughtering a lot of the palace staff, his court, and practically destroying his palace.

He can't find any leads and because Luo Binghe's mental state was so dependent on Ming Fan, and decides that killing himself is the only option. Because while Ming Fan spat and cursed at him, he was still alive.

And this is all backstory. This is where the actual Slay the Princess stuff starts :) You're supposed to get snippets of the backstory in each route.

Luo Binghe wakes up in a throne room alone. There is no one around and everything is clean. He doesn't remember anything. Then two voices speak up. A narrator (Shang Qinghua) and a Heroic Voice (Shen Yuan)

The narrator chitters a nervous (obviously rehearsed) speech about how he's here to slay an empress. An empress that will end the world if let out. The heroic voice starts berating the narrator and then moves on with another (obviously rehearsed) speech.

Luo Binghe is prompted to go through the palace. He does and eventually reaches the door to a tower where the empress is supposed to be.

Depending on what Luo Binghe does, the empress will greet him differently and will determine what route he has.

All the voices are characters in svsss. (Tianlang Jun is the Voice of the Smitten because I think it's funny) Some of them will be resentful towards Luo Binghe and be snide and backhanded or some will be nervous and avoidant.

I haven't finished placing all the points yet, but I know I want

The Damsel route to mention Ming Fan's minor kindness towards Luo Binghe that caused the obsession to take root

The Prisoner route to mention Luo Binghe forcing the marriage onto Ming Fan with a false promise

I'm still working on the rest, but I want the ending to be the crows telling Luo Binghe that this entire loop was his fault. And the reveal would probably be something bittersweet.

I just think they're neat (I'm obsessed with their toxic asses) :D

#svsss #bingfan #luo binghe #ming fan

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danieyells · 6 months ago

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Think about this idea! It's been almost a year and you didn't find the anomaly or how to solve your curse, most of the boys know but aren't really keeping track, a year is so far away and it slips away so fast but suddenly the MC one day starts skipping some classes or acting odd so one of the boys (for special angst one who has a crush on mc but didn't confess yet) ask them what is going on and they fall in the realization when they say "one week left"

I was trying to take a nap when i remembered this ask and this idea clawed its way into my head. So hey.

It's not quite what your idea was, but I hope you like it anyway, anon.

Frostheim.

Vagastrom.

Jabberwock.

Sinostra.

Hotarubi.

Obscuary.

Mortkranken.

Even the previously missing Dionysia ghouls.

You'd met and bonded with all of the ghouls in Darkwick, and even a few outside of it. You'd gone on missions. You'd even begun to get the ghouls to capture anomalies instead of kill them. The anomalies were being studied and discoveries were being made.

But none relating to your own curse.

The Gala came and went, the Laurel Crown awarded. The third years had moved on to become fourth years. You'd had many hard and tearful goodbyes. Promises to meet again that you hoped could come true. Some more firm understandings that this was goodbye, and wishes of good luck.

Soon the new first years would be coming and they would be assigned their houses.

Soon. . . .

"Dandelion?" The temporary Captain of Jabberwock leaned over to stare at you, a curious look on his face. Towa had been inconsolable for a while after Haru had left, and Jabberwock had been plagued by violent storms of snow and hail and lightning. Eventually it all calmed down. You hoped the quieter and natural atmosphere of Jabberwock could heal your stressing heart. All it did was leave you to your thoughts. Thoughts that must have shown on your face. Towa seemed to have had gotten over his own problems, and seemed back to his usual self. His arms looped around you, feeling like warmth and sunshine incarnate. No wonder plants lived him so much. "Here you go! A hug to make your sad face go away!"

You laugh weakly. But it doesn't take the dread away. You turn into him and smell the sweet and floral scent about him, clinging and trying to hide your woes so he wouldn't begin to feel bad again. You thank him, and he gives you a squeeze.

"That didn't help?" Somehow you felt bad for not reassuring him. "What's the matter? Do you miss Haru too?"

You did miss Haru. You missed all your friends and loved ones.

You were going to miss all of your friends and loved ones.

"Whaddyou mean? Tell me." He gave you a squeeze of encouragement. You choked back a sob, but barely managed to whimper out your woes.

"One week left. . . ."

"One week. . .?" In one week the new first years would arrive and be assigned their houses. In one week, it will have had been a year since that concert, since that anomaly, since-- "Oh! Your curse!!"

Part of you wanted to feel angry at how Towa didn't seem bothered by it. He cuddled you, petting your hair. "You're gonna die soon, huh?"

How blunt. He was like this a lot, dismissive about life. Sometimes it scared you, but in ways it was comforting to hear it said so straightforward. Yes, you were going to die soon. Someone said it. Someone acknowledged it. Someone remembered.

"That's okay! Everybody dies eventually!"

"But I don't want to die, Towa!" You cry, snapping your head up to look at him desperately. He parted his lips as of in surprise. "I'm not ready to die! I-- I--"

"Hmm." Towa looked at you with contemplative pity. "So you don't wanna die yet? You wanna keep living?"

You nod. Did Towa think so little of his own life that he couldn't comprehend wanting it to continue? Or was he just that unempathetic? Maybe you didn't mean much to him, and he didn't care if you were gone the way he cared when Haru left.

"Why don't you ask me for help?"

What?

"What do you mean?" You looked at him inquisitively. Towa smiled back down at you, beguiling, lavender hair framed by an inky black sky.

"Why don't you ask me to save you? So you don't die as soon."

You shook your head. "Towa, I was cursed by some anomaly--we never found another one like it, I--I can still remember its eye and nothing that erases my memory works to make me forget. Everytime I close my eyes lately I see it like--like it's coming after me, like it's getting closer. I see that eye in other people's eyes, I--"

"Do you see it in mine?" It's eerily still and quiet in Jabberwock today. You look in his eyes. It's easy, like nothing but you two exists right now. "Is it there?"

"No." You swallow. You don't remember standing. You don't remember Towa standing, either. "No, it's not."

"I can help you. I promise." Why was it so dark? The sky wasn't clouded, and Towa wasn't upset. You didn't remember it being dark when you came here. The warmth of the sun was your only comfort alone with your thoughts. "You just have to ask me. Ask me to help you."

"But. . .how will you help me?" As a matter of fact, it was midday when you came here, wasn't it? Why could Towa talk in the first place. "What can you do that no one else could? Wh-why didn't you say something sooner?"

"Do you want me to grant your wish? Or not?" You could see Towa clearly, but the deep darkness around you reflected no light in his eyes. It reminded you of being in the sunken ship disguised as an undersea palace, when those anomalies tried to keep you from leaving. You didn't feel cold like that time though. You felt warm. You almost felt safe.

"I. . .I. . . ." Something told you to run away. For a moment, you saw the anomaly's eye again. Towa looked irritated, and suddenly it was gone, as if frightened away. You heard thunder crack in the distance. "I want to live. . . ."

"Tell me what you wish for." He smiled at you. It was welcoming and pitying. Like finding a lost child. "I'll keep your safe."

His face was very close, your eyes locked in his. You felt weaker than ever with him holding you like this. The words spilled out of your mouth.

"I wish my curse was gone. . .I wish I could live. . .please help me, Towa. . . ."

Towa smiled and pet your hair. Then he stepped back from you. You clung to his sleeves, afraid of being abaoned to the emptiness around you. Between you, a pale plant grew to eye level, flowering before your very eyes.

"Eat it."

The plant moved itself to your mouth. You parted your lips, allowing it in, and closed your teeth and lips around it like you'd done with so many plants Towa fed you. It ripped itself away from you, and you chewed it. Your mouth was filled with complex flavors, sweet and bitter and painful and unfamiliar. Your senses were filled with something soft and numbing. But you still felt the strong press of Towa's lips on yours, pushing the flower down your throat. Somehow, you didn't gag from the pressure.

When you swallowed, a wave of nausea hit you. The sickly feeling was followed by electricity, jolting through your mouth and down your throat and up your spine, into your stomach and brain. You felt it travel to the tips of your fingers and pores, arcing across every hair along your body.

And then the sharp pain and blast of fog filled your head.

It felt like roots implanting themself through your whole body, as if replacing every part of your nervous system. You opened your mouth ask what was happening, but all that left you was a scream so loud it hurt your throat. Your eyes and face burned with your tears.

You dug your nails into Towa's arms as he pulled Way, and he watched on without helping as you began to vomit. It hurt. All of this hurt. You vomited burning and freezing mud, and what you vaguely grasped to be seeds. The empty world around you seemed to consume the mess, drinking it up and burying the seeds into the invisible earth.

As you heaved and gasped when it finally came down, you watched another plant grow. This one was familiar. It flowered quickly, and you remembered the flowers of the anomaly that cursed you. You saw them flower and grow, and you gasped, yanking your hands away from Towa to cover your eyes.

Not again, you didn't want to see the eye again.

It wasn't until you heard lightning and hail, feeling the fall of it directly in front of you that you realized you couldn't remember how the eye looked anymore. The memory was simply gone.

"Did you feel it? It was like being struck by lightning, right?" Towa's voice echoed around you jovially. "That means we're soulmates now. Because your soul is mine now. Our pact is sealed. And your curse is gone."

"Wha--ow. . . ." You snapped your head up, pulling your hands away from your eyes to look at Towa, only to shield your eyes from the bright, warm sun of Jabberwock. It burned, after being in the dark so long--and after the sensory overload after eating that flower. Looking down and shielding your eyes from the light, you saw something smouldering between yours and Towa's feet, surrounded by charred petals. "What. . .what did you do, Towa. . .?"

Towa made an inquisitive sound at you, tilting his head. He once again looked innocent. He once again couldn't speak under the light of day. He smiled and giggled, covering your eyes and kissing you again, humming happily against your lips. From being around him for over a year you'd already begun to understand him when he couldn't speak. He was reassuring you. You'll be okay, he says. You don't need to be afraid anymore.

"But. . .my soul. . .a pact. . .like a. . .?"

Like a demon?

Was Towa a demon?

He pat you on the back, silently saying not to worry. And then, he leapt into the air, off to somewhere else in the former safari area, leaving you to pull yourself together.

The eye was gone from your mind. You couldn't remember anything besides the flowers and their charred state in the beautiful green grass of Jabberwock.

You held your stomach, feeling it knot with nerves.

The curse was gone. You'd live. . .but now your life was in Towa's hands.

You began to leave Jabberwock, turning over in your head how you would tell Cornelius what happened. You'd made a pact with a demon to spare your life. . .but the demon was on campus. He was a threat. He had power. A lot of power.

The moment you started to consider telling them it was Towa, you screamed out in pain. Electricity ran through your very existence, not just your body but your soul too. A warning.

You caught your breath where you collapsed in the grass, one of the anomalous animals nervously sniffing at you until your rising startled it into fleeing. Right. You couldn't share who the demon was. But you could say there had been one and that your life was safe now. . that you were aware of.

Once your shaking legs were steady and the phantom pain subsided, you made your way out into the main grounds and towards the main building. It was probably important that you share the news. . .whether or not it was good.

#towa otonashi #tokyo debunker fanfic #I KNOW I SAID I SUSPECT KAITO BUT CONSIDER MY OTHER SUSPECT. . .TOWA.#tokyo debunker #danie yells at tokyo debunker #danie yells writing

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thedeathlysallows · 11 months ago

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Is It Over Now? (7)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon

Summary: Say the one thing I've been wanting

Warnings: canon typical Targaryen incest. Smut. Aemond finally gets it wet lol. Dom!Aemond. Oral (f!receiving), female masturbation, breeding kink (because of course Aemond wants her pregnant asap), name calling, dirty talk. Warnings aren't exhaustive. Proceed with caution.

This one... ended up hella long, I'm not gonna lie. 2.5k words. Here's what I listened to for vibes and inspiration!

"Robert Tyrell is nowhere to be found," the King proclaims as morning drags into early afternoon. He sits on his throne, looking down at his family assembled before him. "His family offers no help, claiming their son simply vanished. We can't have a wedding without a groom, can we?"

You sit with your head down, feeling every bit as pathetic as you look. Robert must have heard about you and Aegon. That's the only thing you can come up with. Why else would he just disappear as he has? He knows his duty as well as you know yours.

"I'm sorry, Mother," you whisper. "This is all my fault."

"Nonsense." Rhaenyra's voice is sharp as Valeryian steel when she speaks. She holds her head high, allowing no weakness to shine through. "Clearly this was an unfit match."

Aegon scoffs. "Unfit. Cursed. Take your pick, sister."

"People are expecting a grand wedding." Alicent glares at Aegon from her spot beside her father. "What should we do, your majesty?"

Aemond steps forward, hands clasped behind his back. He shoulders are squared and he speaks with all the assurance of a second son. "I will take Robert Tyrell's place if it pleases the King."

The room erupts into chaos in an instant. Jace and Luke are yelling obscenities while Daemon and Rhaenyra plead with Viserys not to listen. Aegon screams at his brother, his throat going raw and his hands shaking with the effort of not hitting Aemond.

And you?

You take a step back from all of it, from all of them, and simply watch it all unfold.

Helaena steps beside you and loops her arm through yours. "They'll destroy themselves."

"Over a fucking wedding of all things." You can't hide the bitterness in your voice. "I'm sorry. About Aegon."

"Don't be. He's more of a brother to me than a husband. I like it that way." She tilts her head and looks up at you. "You were never going to marry Robert Tyrell."

You don't quite know what to say in response to that, so you pat her hand and say nothing.

"Enough!" Viserys' voice carries over the loud din of your family. He looks exhausted from the effort of being that loud. "I've decided Aemond will take the place of our runaway groom. Maybe this match will teach you all the importance of family and getting along."

Helaena gives you a look that seems to say see? I told you, but you aren't looking at her. You're eyes are glued to Aemond and the way he stares straight back at you. When you were younger you always joked that it seemed like he could look straight through a person's soul. Now you aren't certain it was actually a joke. Even with one eye missing it still feels like he's tearing the very essence of you open layer by layer as he stares at you.

Eventually, you find your voice and manage to say, "if it's the King's will then so be it."

"The children have more sense than the adults." Viserys stands, breathless and in pain. "Get these two to the sept before anyone else disappears."

The next few hours of your life are a blur. You couldn't remember most of it if you tried. Very few things manage to stick, but you can recall the anger on Aegon's face. He burns righteous and villainous in your mind. And your mother... she's devastated as she watches you dance with Aemond. Jace and Luke don't fair much better.

Yet, through it all, Aemond's face is what stands out the most. Because of course it does. Your new husband never leaves your side, his hands lingering at your waist or the small of your back as people celebrate around you. He's charming and lively beside you, but you can sense the burning just below the surface of his skin. His expression could almost be considered victorious as he looks at the assembled crowd. It confuses you and you try to store the thought away for later, but then Aemond looks down at you and presses his lips to yours.

He's soft and determined. Dornish wine lingers on his lips, but he's nowhere close to drunk.

You're his.

He succeeded.

Well, almost.

You will be after-

"The bedding ceremony!" Aegon slurs the words, taking a long drink from his cup before grabbing you by the arm. His grip is punishing. His fingers dig into your skin so painfully you'll be surprised if there aren't bruises in the morning.

There are jeers and whistles from the crowd as men and women surge forward. You're quickly separated from Aemond, a group of lords headed by Aegon dragging you to Aemond's chambers. They jostle and paw at the crushed velvet of your white dress. The fabric gives easily. The night air is cool against your skin, sending goosebumps all over your body.

In your panic you search for your mother, but you can't find her over Aegon's towering form. He leers down at you, wine stained lips lifted in a sneer. He's never looked at you with so much disdain before. It turns your stomach and leaves your blood running cold.

"Don't touch," Aegon snaps at some lord on your left as you feel fingertips brush against your arm. "Think you're good enough for a princess, Bolton?"

You don't hear the young man's reply. You don't hear much of anything honestly. It takes everything in you to pretend you aren't naked in front of the entire court, being escorted to your new husband's chambers by your uncle. You're feet stumble over the granite floor while your mind goes fuzzy. You can almost pretend this isn't happening.

Almost.

Until a set of familiar dark wooden doors are flung open in front of you and you come chest to chest with Aemond.

With your husband.

Women tug at his clothes, but he bats their hands away with a practiced ease that makes you wonder how many times he's done that before. He doesn't take his eyes off of you as he dismisses everyone.

Only Aegon lingers.

"Shall I test her maidenhood for you, brother? Will you believe me when no blood comes from between those pretty thighs?" Aegon wraps his fingers around your wrist and tugs you closer to him, knee nudging your thighs apart as he presses up into your core.

Aemond observes him with a bored gaze. "If you're finished causing trouble, I believe you have your own wife to tend to."

Aegon's face flushes and he hisses something under his breath in Valeryian that you can't quite make out. He releases you with one last glare leveled at Aemond before storming out. Presumably to his own chambers. Or maybe Flea Bottom.

You know it isn't your problem- it never has been- but you still feel you're heart tug painfully when you think about him drowning his sorrows in alcohol and whores.

"Did they hurt you?" Aemond's voice snaps you from your depressing thoughts and you turn your attention to him fully.

You rub your arm. "Only Aegon. But isn't that always how it goes?"

"He won't bother you any longer."

"You sound confident, uncle."

"I am... wife."

Aemond's expression turns fond when he says the word, his one good eye sparkling with mirth in the firelight. You hum softly and your gaze drifts to his other eye. Briefly, you wonder if you'll ever be brave enough to see what you and your brothers did. You aren't sure. Maybe one day you'll be brave enough to face the consequences fully, but for now you simply reach out and touch the jagged scar covering his face.

"I'm sorry," you say simply. It's not enough, but it's what you can think to offer right now. "I'm so sorry, Aemond."

Aemond's muscles tense instinctually when you touch his scar, and he has to fight the impulse to shove your hand away. But that's no way to start a marriage, is it? So he stands still as stone while your fingertips on his skin starts to feel less foreign. He lets you apologize to your heart's content.

"The past between us means little to me now," Aemond says when your babbling slows. "It's our future I'm concerned with."

You blink, surprised to hear him say that considering how antagonistic his relationships with your brothers is. "Oh?"

He smiles, one hand cupping the back of your head as his other grips your waist and pulls you flush against him. His lips press to yours in what starts as a gentle kiss. He works you up slowly, nipping at your bottom lip and teasing his tongue against your own. You melt into him with each stroke of his tongue.

"Fuck," He moans out as he pulls away.

You simper out his name and a quiet please as you press closer to him, growing desperate for more despite any previous misgivings. Aemond's hand moves from the base of your skull to your throat. His fingertips dig into your pulse point in warning.

"Don't," he tells you. "I've waited for this. For you. I'll take my time and you'll thank me for it, understood?"

You nod pathetically, his words sending a wave of arousal through you.

His hand drops from your hip to your ass and he smacks you once before turning you around a softly pushing you towards the bed. "On your back. Spread your legs for me."

You do as he says, flushing with heat at the way he licks his lips while taking your body in.

"You're beautiful," he mutters almost to himself. "Better than I ever imagined."

"You've imagined me naked?" You know you should probably be upset, but all you can manage to feel is a selfish sort of pleasure that he's dreamed of you before.

"Many times, lovely girl." Aemond kneels on the bed and puts each of your legs over one of his shoulders. His lips are wet and plush as he kisses his way from your calf to your thigh, nose nudging the soft curls of your cunt.

"What else have you imagined?" You're breathless when you speak.

Aemond smirks, enjoying the way you squirm in his grip. "Would you like to hear about one of my favorite dreams?"

"Y-yes."

He hums in reply, teeth digging into the skin of your thigh. "It's you. Just you. You're alone in your chambers, night shift sticking to your skin as you sweat in the summer air. It's so hot you can't take it and strip naked. Your hands find their way to your cunt, bringing you pleasure but no relief because deep down you know only I can save you."

Aemond's eye flickers from your hand to your cunt and he says, "let me see if it's like my dream. Touch yourself for me."

Your hand is shaky as you move it down your body. Aemond eats up every second eagerly, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "That's it. Fuck, what a good girl you are."

"Aemond..." You say his name breathlessly, sighing in relief when your fingers meet your clit.

He watches closely as you toy with yourself, fingers dipping in and out of your wet core, arousal shining on your skin. You've never enjoyed getting yourself off, always preferring Aegon's help, but with the way Aemond watches you so intensely you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge of absolute pleasure.

"Don't cum," he tells you when he notices your movements getting sloppy. "Not without my cock inside you."

Aemond presses your legs back so your knees meet your shoulders. You readjust to the new position, looking down as he teases you with the tip of his cock. He's bigger than Aegon. Thicker too. His tip is flushed a pretty pink and you've never wanted something inside you more.

"Aemond, please," you cry out. You're wet and throbbing and desperate and so, so close.

His expression darkens. He had no plans to make you beg tonight, but it sounds so pretty that he just can't help but to switch tactics. You want his cock? You can beg for it like that desperate whore you are.

Aemond buries his face between your thighs, lapping at your juices. His tongue swirls around your clit before dipping between your folds and coaxing more arousal out of you. You scream, a sob wrenching itself out of your chest as your fingers slip into his hair.

"Please! Please, please, please!" You're pleading as loudly as you can. "Aemond, please!"

He pulls away just enough to look at you, his fingers taking over for his mouth. "Please what? Use your words and maybe I'll give it to you."

"N-no..."

"No?"

You let out another sob, tears of frustration pricking at your eyes. You're so fucking close.

And Aemond can tell.

The bastard.

"Aemond, please, I want..." You moan when his long fingers brush a spot inside you that has your walls flutter around him.

"You want lots of things don't you, lovely girl?" Aemond presses reassuring kisses to your face. "Focus. What do you want the most?"

"Y-you... inside me..."

"I am inside you."

"Your cock! I want your cock inside me! Please!"

Aemond's breath hitches. The only outward sign of his self control slipping from his grip. Hearing those dirty words come from your mouth makes his cock twitch in anticipation. You're such a good girl for him. He kisses you deeply as he presses his cock inside you, swallowing your moans with his tongue.

"Gods, yes," he moans when he's fully inside you. "You're cunt was fucking made to take me. I knew it."

You're crying now, feeling overwhelmed and overstimulated as he thrusts inside you. You swear you can feel him deep in your stomach. Maybe it's the angle. Maybe it's the fact that he's just that big. Whatever it is, you find yourself thanking the gods for it as he brushes up against that spot from earlier with each stroke of his cock inside you. You say his name over and over and Aemond thinks it's the sweetest prayer he's ever heard.

"You take it so well," Aemond praises as he brushes hair from your face. He watches as your breasts bounce with each snap of his hips. They'll be so full when he has his baby inside you. And fuller still when your milk comes in.

Fuck.

He wants you round and heavy with his child and he wants it now.

"Aemond," you moan out his name as you grasp his forearms, nails digging into his arm. The coil that's been building in your belly snaps and your eyes flutter shut as the orgasmic high washes over you. Your body turns to pudding and you sink further into the mattress.

Aemond watches your expressions with rapt attention, his own orgasm taking over when your walls clench around his cock. He slumps down on top of you and welcomes your absentminded petting.

"We're married," you say as if the realization just hit you.

"As we should be. You're meant to be mine."

You don't know what to say to that declaration, so you say nothing and hope the morning won't be awkward. You'd hate to lose Aemond a second time.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you

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al-the-remix · 5 months ago

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Ghost!Tommy AU Brainstorming:

Okay I still have a fic to finish, but I've been toying with this idea for afterwards: set during season 6 where Buck returns from his coma dream with the ability to see ghosts. Once back at the 118 he starts seeing mild signs of ghosts everywhere: orbs and partial apparitions, more like echos of memories trapped at the sites of tragedies that full fledged spirits. The one exception is obviously Tommy who appears more realized to him than all the others. Tommy, who's been trapped in the firehouse for 7 (??? what is the timeline) years.

I need to go rewatch season 6 to figure out some plot and character beats, but I like the idea that as Buck is struggling to come to terms with everything from the coma dream, and all the baggage that comes along with dying and coming back to life, he has this person to talk to that's–at least on the death side of things–been there before. I still want him to meet Natalia, and have a connection with her and they begin to date or are friends who are just hooking up casually (and have a lot more to talk about, lol). But at the same time Buck struggles with being drawn to Tommy like a magnet, this person who isn't even alive.

I haven't quite settled on what Tommy's backstory is going to be beyond Chim not being able to save him in time during the gas explosion in season 2. But some of the things Buck fears the most are dying and people moving on without him and not remembering him. So when he starts seeing Tommy and realizes that he was part of the 118 and died and…no one ever talks about him? There could be so much potential connection there. (Obviously there's a deeper reason why Hen and Chim don't bring Tommy up, chiefly shame and guilt, but Buck doesn't know that quite yet.)

I don't know if I'd keep the sperm donor plot line. I'm not a hater, but I feel like recovering from dying, a death doula girlfriend, and a ghost boyfriend, is a lot for one guy to deal with all at once. Instead I think I'd like to bring Albert back into the fold in one way or another. I really enjoyed his friendship with Buck and was sad when he pretty much disappeared from the show. I just see this as a fic where the Buckley-Hans really lean on each other.

I'd like to keep the tone of the fic not too heavy, and retain a good amount of humor even while Buck is thinking he's going a little insane seeing dead people and having a torrid, seemingly doomed, love affair with one of those dead people.

One of the things I appreciate so much about the show is its ability to balance humor and angst, as well as developing this campy atmosphere where it's totally not out of the realm of possibility to have ghosts, and cursed bracelets, and magic fire truck that can drive you all over Los Angeles in midday traffic without the building burning down before you get there…

I'd prefer a happy ending, but I'll write a heartbreaking one if I think it fits. The difficulty with ghost aus, if you're going to have the love interest come back to life it's got to feel earned, and fit within the rules of the universe you've set up, and that's not always an easy thing to accomplish.

I think if I wanted to bring Tommy back to life it could go two differently ways: either I could veer into full crack–which I'm not opposed to doing–but is really going to need the right set up (unless we're all cool with Buck and his hot zombie bf 🥰 )

But the more likely option is some time loop shenanigans as a fix-it. Buck is able to solve whatever preternatural puzzle I set up for him with his big brain and endless imagination, fixing whatever bad timeline they're in and making it so Tommy never actually dies. They say their goodbyes and Tommy ““goes back””--whatever that means with context–and Buck's all alone again. The firehouse feels so empty now without Tommy around. And the more days that pass by the more Buck worries that his big plan didn't actually work at all (maybe in here either everyone at the firehouse does actually forget Tommy ever existed for a little while because of yet to be established hand-wavey reasons or Buck's too afraid to ask about him/look Tommy up incase it didn't work and he really did lose him forever–preparing for that reality and living it are two totally different ball games–)

Until one day they have to call in air support at an emergency and suddenly Chim yells “Hey, there's Tommy!” and when Buck whips around sure enough there he is. And Buck's all like “can you introduce me to your friend? 👀” to Chim and Tommy's all like “have we met before? I feel like I know you from somewhere 🤔”. Tommy doesn't remember Buck (right away?) but here's this man who is SO CUTE and hot and smart and funny, and weirdly, like, super into him? And he pulls Chim aside like “why haven't you introduced me to this man before? Have you been holding out on me? What about my romcom happy ending?” And Chim is like “I didn't even know that he was into men!!” Meanwhile, Buck’s just hovering in the background full heart-eyes mode waiting to woo the fuck out of his man (the best he can without sticking his foot in his mouth)...

They exchange numbers and agree to meet for a drink after their respective shifts end and at the bar Tommy asks how Buck knows what beer he prefers, and Buck's all cocky like “I guess I have good taste in more than just my men 😏” and Tommy is caught, hook line and sinker.

After that it's happily ever after for them, and Natalia is one of Buck's "groomsmen" at the wedding (they're all bffs now.) The end. 😌

#i know this is au is pretty vague atm but i'll add to this post as i develop the idea #i just need to put this au somewhere it can breath an not get lost in the mire of my notes app #bucktommy #mine #ghost!tommy

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nevermoredragon-main · 7 months ago

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Itafushijun time travel au idea that I probably won't write because time travel is a tempting but fickle mistress.

Side Megumi

Takes place in the most current arc of the manga where Sukuna is possessing Megumi. However, our heroes ultimately fail to save him (because surely they will save him in canon. *surely*) and Megumi's soul fades away completely/and Yuji is ultimately killed with a look of heartbreak and regret that Megumi sees before he disappears. However, as he disappears, he finds himself thinking, "I wish I wasn't so weak that I could have kept him out of harm's way... I wish that he didn't have to die so full of regrets..." (or something along those lines).

Read more because this got kind of long.

Fushiguro disappears... and then wakes up a few days before he meets Yuji for the first time, when he's about to set off for Yuji's hometown to retrieve Sukuna's finger, with no memory or clue about how this could have happened. However, he feels it deep in his soul that all of that wasn't just a horrible dream, and he sets out with the intention of stopping Yuji from eating Sukuna's finger in the first place.

Because nothing ever goes right in the first loop, Fushiguro fails in this attempt, and because he doesn't know how to reset the loop yet(or if it even can be reset), he has no choice but to continue on and try to minimize the harm done. Maybe he could still accomplish his goal of stopping Yuji from dying with regrets.

Nothing goes the way he wants, and skipping forward a bit, just like in the original timeline, Yuji "dies" at the detention center. However, Megumi decides that he's not going to sit around practicing for the Goodwill Event like last time. He confronts Gojo about knowing that Yuji is actually alive, and demands to be let into the fold.

So now Megumi is able to see Yuji and be with him during his training arc, which is all well and good until we arrive at the movie theatre murder that Mahito committed. Fushiguro also is there to help investigate, and examines the crime scene early on.

But... something is wrong... something is different that has no reason to be different.

This time there is only one victim, who reportedly ran forward in a panic suddenly and then died.

This isn't what Megumi remembered Yuji telling him.

Junpei Yoshino isn't supposed to be the one that died in the theatre.

Suspicions as to why this is immediately form in Megumi's mind, but he still has no way to prove it so he continues forward.

And then he dies during the Mahito fight.

Side Junpei

This is Junpei's second time waking up a couple months before his impending death. The first time it had happened, he had wanted to assume that it had all been one awful dream. After all, he's just a normal kid. Curses? A horrible nightmare where he had died tragically?

A boy that had actually been nice to him? A friend? No way.

So Junpei continues on like normal and dismisses the dream for a while, ignoring the bad feeling he gets when things from his dream happen just like they do in real life.

Until he goes to the movies that one fateful day. Mahito appears, and Junpei realizes in a panic that it wasn't a dream at all. It was real.

He's not sure what suddenly possesses him to do so. Maybe the thought that if Mahito is real, than Yuji would also be real. Maybe the thought that he could change things for the better and be the good person Yuji thought he was, but he finds himself running forward, trying to save his bullies.

However, he's panicking after the realization that his nightmare all those months ago had been real. He messes up. Slips. And Mahito kills him instead.

Junpei wakes up again, knowing it's all real, and unsure what to do. He skirts around his distress when his mom asks, and tries to think of solutions out of this for a couple hours... When there's a knock at the door. His mother opens it to find a spiky haired boy with a uniform that Junpei immediately recognizes.

Megumi and Junpei approach each other with caution and trepidation, though Junpei reassures his mother that this boy is just a friend as they go to talk outside. He wonders if Megumi somehow knows about what he did in the past (future?) and is here to arrest him. Megumi is trying to figure out if Junpei knows about the loop like he had begun to suspect.

Eventually, after a lot of suspicious side eyes and poking at each other, the truth comes out. Megumi also sheds some light on the future, about how Yuji will die and Sukuna will be free to do whatever he wants.

Junpei is the only other person that Megumi knows of who is aware of this loop, for what reason he doesn't know.(the meta answer is shipping. The in story answer I don't know yet.) Since they both care about Yuji deeply, and share this strange fate, they decide to team up to save Yuji. With that, Megumi says that they need to hurry if they want to even attempt to try stopping Yuji from swallowing the first finger.

And that's all the story details I had that are concrete. There are a couple other twists later that I thought of that I'm not including here, and also some other themes and time loop consequences. Basically just, Megumi having a lot of complicated feelings about Gojo and Tsumiki. But the basic premise is Megumi and Junpei trying to save Yuji because they both love him while also falling for each other in the process because they both share this very unique experience.

Time travel is a confusing and fickle mistress as I said. One problem I had is that the time span between the beginning of the manga and where we are now is too long. So like, if they have to reset near the end and go all the way back, that would be... kind of a pain to write. And also my ideal ending would be a happy one where eventually they succeed, but thematically I think something bittersweet would make the most sense. So instead I'm writing the idea out here and moving onto other ideas. I guess if anyone has any ideas on how to make the idea work, I'm open to suggestions.

#jujutsu kaisen #itafushijun #yuji itadori #junpei yoshino #megumi fushiguro #rambles #junpei and megumi are meguca for meduka(yuji)

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frmamnac · 6 months ago

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Theory about considering that Marco and Toffee were connected

Do you remember the theory that Marco and Toffee are connected? It is a theory with a lot of negative opinions, but I tried my best to think about it.

youtube

Marco and Toffee both have a planned and meticulous personality. I think... their gestures are sometimes similar, I was making comparisons (1-5).

Besides, The following are the ones that appear in Toffee's first appearance episode.

Star's penstand with holes. I think it's similar to the symptoms of victims of Solaria's magic.

Dead End signs, Star and monsters.

A fortune cookie message that Toffee sent to Star says "Love is always the answer".

Toffee sees Star helping Marco.

Toffee say that "You're not the only one who is the victim of magic" to Ludo's gang.

What if these are things that foreshadowing something? When Marco is involved in magic, he often combines with purple things. The monster arm emits purple liquid, Marco's corpse in the closet (with Mewberty Star's hearts) has purple skin, his hands turn purple when he touches Mewberty Star, Princess Turdina wears a purple dress, and the purple cloth he wears has nothing to do with magic, but look at the shape. Doesn't the drape look like a Septarian's tail?

Purple-ish black unicorn stabbed Marco. What if Toffee and unicorn's dark magic (I guess) were related to Marco's monster arm?

Toffee said he knows the future. What if Star, her friends, and monsters are killed by Mina's forces' magic, when Star won't destroy magic? (In fact, most of her friends and monsters were almost killed) Then, What if Mewni was destroyed in the battle between Mina and Eclipsa?

Daron Nefcy said Toffee as Magneto-type villain. Magneto was Professor X's best friend, Marco was Star's best friend. So, if Star fails to destroy the magic, maybe Marco'll shapeshifted to Septarian by unicorn's dark magic and time-traveled to the ancient Mewni. (It may sound silly) Glossaryck may have created a weird time loop. (He had access to the River of Time) so, Toffee could have been Other Marco who come from such bad future timeline.

Toffee may knew that he would be killed as Star's first enemy, so he probably decided to give Star the idea of destroy the magic for change the wrong future, but in the process, probably he entered Realm of Magic and went crazy, and died as like "Toffee" who was in his original timeline. Glossaryck may has seen Marco as Toffee's 14 year old version. When they first met, Glossaryck said he wouldn't let Marco read magic spells book. I feel like he disliked Marco until day that Star rode the bike.

Even if Marco was influenced by evil monster arm, he is not necessarily evil. In this case, Toffee wouldn't kill Comet, but his subordinates would do it at their discretion. Glossaryck's been acting like a pet for a while after Toffee's death, Maybe that was because he felt guilty about making Star killed "Marco".

Well, Marco is just a boy from Earth, but he tried to become a knight because he wanted to get close to Star, the princess of Mewni. Marco's exploits with Toffee's death gave Marco the idea of becoming a knight. I wrote that about Toffee was acting like a knight. And what if Marco's Blood Moon's nightmare warns his fate that he will be killed by Star when he falls in love with her? Toffee lives in Star's past, and Marco lives in Star's future. Star and Marco, who are tied by Curse of Blood Moon, will be bound in weird time loop forever, untill Cleaved canceled bad future.

I don't know why Toffee stole Ludo's castle and his gang. He manipulated Ludo a lot but it also made Buff Frog a Star's friend, it triggered that Star wants Mewni to stop the monster abuse and protect monsters.

I think Toffee's apparent age is 30s. Marco at Neverzone is still child with an adult body. too childish. Star and Toffee's mental age is too far apart, he maybe saw Star as his old best friend. Throughout the show, Star and Toffee barely had a chance to speak. Marco is the type who is into the role he plays, and he is good at hiding his emotions. If he felt responsible for Star's grandma's death, he wouldn't be able to tell the truth. He may have been acting like a crazy, cruel man to Star and her friends on purpose, in order not to kill his childhood. "Surprise" is a word when the Diaz family celebrates Star every day, so it may be a symbol of friendship.

Toffee has existed since he was a teenager. The reason why he was shocked when Marco said, "You're boring" would because he had the time he was able to live as his true self was too short, and he forgot what he was like living as himself. On the other hand, he may have despised his past self who had no power or knowledge to protect the important things. Toffee's last words were probably a warning or mocking to his past self, and were probably the answer to "boring".

"Code name is Sailor V", a spinoff of Sailor Moon came to my mind. The villain in this story was just a common soldier who wanted to become a knight to get closer to the princess of Venus, Minako's previous life. However, after everyone died in the war and the queen of the moon let reborn everyone with magical powers. Even though he was Minako's enemy, he tried to help her grow, but he died when doing fortune-telling that Minako was destined to kill the person she loved. Minako will ended up killing her boyfriend who became an enemy. Daron loves Sailor Moon, and Mina's name is taken from Minako, but Minako looks like Star a bit.

But how can Marco be so dark and conspiratorial?

I think Marco knew very little about monster abuse in Mewni. He would be angry if he knows that, and he will try to protect the monsters from Mewmans as one of the earthlings because he knows Mewmans were earthlings, and would be thoroughly research magic and Mewni's history. And Marco's charisma will be gather the support of Septarians. In order to protect the existence of Star, he may had to keep Butterfly family alive while dealing with the monster's hatred for Butterfly family, and he would have been afraid of losing the support of the monsters.

Marco was once unable to oppose princesses in St. Olga for fear of losing the support of them. Perhaps his harsh environment has made him ruthless. He may have been bound by his past as Septarian and had limited things to do. I think he has reason for hating Glossaryck. Glossaryck made Star's ancestors, the colonists of Earth, into Butterfly family and Mewman.

The reason he wore a suit instead of a general's uniform in front of Star and Marco was because that's the style of Earth politicians, and he wanted things to be resolved by negotiation, not fighting. And he didn't stand in the way of Marco (his past self) going to Blood Moon Ball and getting cursed with Star by curse of Blood Moon.

Unfortunately, Dark magic that Toffee was melting in Realm of Magic will strengthen the desire for revenge. He may have wanted to inactive MHC and Moon because them empower Mina's rebellion. What if the magic and Star's family destroyed his life? What if magic doesn't exist? What if the colonists from Earth, the ancestors of Star, didn't go to Mewni? What if Star was born as an earthling? What if Marco chose Jackie instead of Star? Almost everything he has experienced could give him reason to hate magic.

His purpose in S1 would to protect Star, but in S2 may have changed to save Marco's life from Star. The reason he was so obsessed with his lost finger was probably because it was the only point of contact between his past self and his present self. The motivation in that case will be self-love. Realm of Magic will not kill Star, but there will make her suffer. He may have locked Star there to teach her his suffering, instead of telling her who he is. In my native language Toffee said "bye-bye" to Star. it is the farewell word between Star and Marco. (in English that's "bye") If Marco's destiny is tied to magic, then Star would be right in deciding to destroy magic for Marco.

(I think this has a "you're fired" kind of nuance, but Marco does something like this when comforting his friends. What's interesting to me personally is that Buff Frog will soon be a father to babies.)

Edit:2024/07/17, Fix

#svtfoe #star vs the forces of evil #i'm sorry #bad english #it's toffee-was-future-marco-theory #i tried my best #fan theory #it's been a long time since I last saw the show #marco diaz #I think monster arm is connect with dark magic #long post #An anime called “Noein” inspired me #disney #toffee svtfoe

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abellalu · 11 months ago

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Adventures on a Foreign Planet | Chapter 2

Summary: After narrowly escaping Thanos, Loki is given a chance for a new life. The Avengers allow Loki to live in New Asgard with his brother, Thor. However, The Avengers are not quick to put their trust into Loki. SHIELD Director Nick Fury recruits an Agent who was once said to be one of the most promising SHIELD Agents, to follow Loki and ensure that he has no plans to harm Earth. Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Reader Word Count: 2.6k A/N: Hello again! Our hero and heroine finally encounter during this chapter. Hope you enjoy and let me know any hopes for this series. [ Previous Part | Masterlist | AO3 ]

You are qualified for this, hopefully.

As you pack up your apartment - most of it going to storage and the rest being tightly packed into two suitcases - you try to remember when you last had a mission this complex or important. Certainly not since SHIELD “collapsed” and reformed in secret. Since then, you’ve only been doing work that the newbies used to do.

All you've had to deal with lately is misbehaving teens and wannabe mad scientists around New York. Now you are on your way to Norway, to meet up with a supernatural being that you have no idea what the extent of their powers are. Maybe that would be a good way to start a conversation with Loki. Though you question if talking to him is even a good idea.

You’ve been wanting a true mission again. But as you think about your past missions, nothing seems to compare to this one. Yes, past missions have been both physically and emotionally demanding, but how do you ensure a God does not try to take over the Earth again?

You also never felt so alone on a mission before. You used to have friends, well fellow agents, at SHIELD.

But it doesn’t matter. You’ve done plenty of work on your work. You can handle this, you just have to. Today you are leaving for New Asgard.

Fury will be upset that you're running late - you told yourself you would start packing early, but waited till the last minute as usual - but it doesn’t matter. You are taking a jet the Avengers have, and, besides the pilot, it will only be you and Fury on the flight. Fury can wait a couple of extra hours, and maybe he will feel the pilot deserves a raise.

Being late is the nice thing to do in this situation.

There is still daylight by the time you arrive at the Avengers Compound. You’ve only been there once or twice before while getting some Stark technology for a few missions. During those visits, you barely even got to enter the building. You were simply handed off the supplies and told to leave.

It’s far larger than most buildings in New York. As you walk through the hallways while escorted by a compound worker, you are amazed by the tall ceilings with windows that cover entire walls letting the sunshine make the inside of the compound seem like it's glowing.

Despite assuming that Tony Stark has an entire workshop for himself, you seem to find his projects everywhere. Plenty of them are still in the development stage with exposed wires all looping around each other. If I touch them will they explode or offer to bring me coffee?

Eventually, you are led into a room that much more resembles a typical family living room with large couches and chairs, a TV and gaming console, and plenty of books gathered on the coffee table. There is a hallway that leads to a kitchen and dining room, and doors that you assume lead to the Avenger's bedrooms.

You are told that Fury will be with you soon and as the compound worker walks away, you immediately collapse onto one of the couches. You curse at yourself for getting so out of shape, but then again, you packed as much as you could into your suitcases.

Lying on the couch, you stare up at the ceiling daydreaming about what Norway might be like. Maybe you’ll get back into shape by training in the forests like an ancient warrior. Maybe you’ll catch up on your reading by the docks. Maybe you’ll finally get that cat you wanted.

Eventually, you hear footsteps coming into the room.

“Well glad you are finally ready to go, Fury,” you joke, your eyes still staring up at the ceiling, “I’ve been waiting on your ass all day.”

“Very funny, Agent,” Fury flatly says, “Get up it isn’t nap time, you can sleep on the jet.”

“Oh but this couch is very comfortable and I-” You turn your head towards Fury and realize he is not alone.

Loki is here.

There, right there, standing behind Fury is Loki.

He doesn’t look exactly as you expected. You imagined he always wore his dark armor with the gold-horned helmet. Maybe his eyes would glow and dark clouds would follow them.

But as you stare at him, you realize he looks like a normal human.

Well, maybe not entirely normal as even without his golden helmet, he towers over Fury. But he isn’t wearing his armor, instead, a dark gray lapel neck coat with slacks. His dark hair curls as it reaches his neck. When you finally look into his blue-green eyes, you realize there is an utter lack of emotion on his face.

He doesn’t seem to care at all that you are making eye contact with him. Loki just stares back.

You clear your throat, then look away from Loki and back towards Fury, “I thought it would just be the two of us. I assumed, uh, Loki was already in New Asgard?”

You felt slightly worried that saying his name out loud would cause a curse to be placed upon you, but a glance shows that he doesn’t seem to care at all that you mentioned him.

“You assumed wrong," Fury says "About both things Agent. Loki is clearly not already in Asgard and I'm not coming with you."

You are staring out the small window in the jet while Loki sits across from you, his long legs are crossed. Your hand holding your face covering it slightly from Loki’s view.

Loki knows you weren’t expecting to meet him so soon. You tried to convince Fury to join the flight to New Asgard, but he just kept on reminding you that this was your job.

You are being forced to be with him.

Well, Loki didn’t have much of a choice either. Only two days ago, he was told he could join his brother in New Asgard. However, there was a catch. The Avengers apparently asked Fury to find someone to keep an eye on him.

“Why? Thor will be there. I assure you if he feels I am being too malicious, he will tell you,” Loki started to feel more uncomfortable in his seat.

Clint leans back in his chair, crossing his arms “Listen, Thor is already busy. He’s helping Valkyrie run New Asgard and he also has some business with the Guardians.”

“I’m assuming you and the rest of your Avengers are too busy too. So I am still a prisoner, but just in New Asgard.”

“You’re not going to be a prisoner Loki, you are going to have more freedom, more than you might deserve,” Loki tenses “The agent is just ensuring that you are going to try and do good. They are very qualified”

Qualified. That’s all he got to learn about you. Loki had to meet you - the person who will now follow him around like a lost puppy - with almost no expectations. You got an entire report from Fury and the Avengers all about him, or at least what they want you to know about him. That he is dangerous and can not be trusted.

But now he is looking at you, while you try to avoid him. Before, you assumed that you could watch him from a distance and mostly keep to yourself. But now, you realize how silly of an idea that was. It is inevitable that you will be spending most of your time for the foreseeable future with the dark god.

This is your mission, and you will take it seriously. While it might be off to a rough start, it will improve. Or at least it needs to if you ever want to get back on the field doing legitimate work. There are some things you don't miss about being a more active SHIELD agent, things that are too hard to think about. But you miss feeling valuable far more.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Loki looking away from you and is now staring out towards his window.

When you were younger, you loved flying on planes. Being among the clouds was like no other experience. The fact that humans discovered a way to fly like birds made you feel powerful. Seeing how small even mountains were below you made you realize how much of the universe, and new perspectives there are to see. You wonder what being on a jet is like for Loki; surely none of this is interesting to him. But you can’t really judge someone who has seen multiple realms for not being impressed by human aircraft.

But it doesn’t matter what Loki thinks. You finally look directly towards him. It is time to break the ice and make it clear to Loki that you are in charge.

“We have about an hour left of our flight,” you said. “When we land, Thor will be there to meet us and show us the residence we’ll be staying at.”

“So I've heard,” Loki said, glancing at you for a second, then looking back towards the window. It's the first time you’ve truly gotten to hear his voice, low and smooth like silk. But his voice signals to you that he is disinterested.

“Yes, well I just wanted to ensure that you were aware of the plans. I want everything to go smoothly,” you said while trying to sit up a little straighter.

He laughs sardonically, “People don't usually come to me when they want their plans to go smoothly.”

“Nonetheless, I need you to cooperate with me. If you stay out of trouble in New Asgard and report to me about your actions, then I shall not bother you.”

“What else would you like?” Loki turns back towards you and leans forward. “Would you like to have a leash on me? Have a camera in my room, or do I even have the honor of having my own room? Should I consult you on everything I wish to say before I say it? Whisper it into your ear and get your approval.”

You feel yourself wanting to shiver. You try to appear stoic in front of Loki, but ultimately your body just becomes tense and stiff.

“I do not plan on treating you like a wild beast, I am here to do my job,” you said sternly. “Whether or not you like it, I am here to stay and you will respect it.”

“You think you should have my respect,” Loki laughs again “And why should a Prince bow down to you, Agent?”

“Because I’m the one here actually trying to keep my planet and people safe, Prince. Do us both a favor and stay out of trouble.”

You stare at each other before Loki eventually rests back in his seat, crossing his arms, and you let out a sigh.

God, how will we not kill each other before we even arrive in New Asgard.

Being in New Asgard is odd.

These are the people Loki has spent his entire life around, the people who made him miserable. For years, they would laugh at him and never care to listen to him. It only got worse when Asgard learned of his true heritage and his actions on Midgard. They could justify Loki being the villain in their stories.

After Ragnarok, they don't view him as much of a threat anymore, but there is still a distrust there. A lingering dislike for him. Maybe if I saved our home, and didn't allow so many of us to die, they could accept me.

It didn’t help that his brother Thor was the clear golden hero of Asgard. It didn’t take long for Thor to become beloved by anyone he met. He just had to show them his wide smile and make them laugh, and anyone would become willing to follow him.

Loki saw that it was the same for you. As the two of you exited the jet, Thor was there to greet you like you said.

“My Lady is a pleasure to have you here, I hope you will enjoy yourself. It’s quite beautiful here, though I do admit the smell of fish from the docks can linger.”

You giggle, “Thank you, Thor, I’m sure I will get used to the smell, I’ve worked in worse places before.”

Afterward, Thor led you both to what is now their new home. On the side of a small mountain, is a wooden house surrounded by green grass and blooming flowers. It is the house where Thor and Valkyrie, the new King of Asgard, stay along with any guests they accumulate

For the first time in hours, Loki can feel somewhat alone again as he sits down on his bed. He can hear the wind blowing outside his window, the only interruption to his thoughts. But Loki knows he is not entirely alone as your bedroom is right across from his and Thor’s is just down the hallway.

You are so peculiar to him, a puzzle he can not solve. He doesn’t understand your intention for being here. Maybe you simply hate him and and to torture him while he is here. Be a pebble in his shoe while he is trying to rebuild his life here.

Loki then hears a knock at his door followed by Thor walking into his room.

“Of course, Thor. Come right in.” Loki rolls his eyes.

“Excuse me brother for the intrusion, but I wanted to see you. I felt as though we hadn’t been able to talk much since you arrived.” Thor closes the door behind him and walks towards Loki.

“Ah yes, well I believe our lovely Agent wanted to investigate your home as soon as possible to ensure there is no way for me to sneak past her watch.” Norns, there is truly no way I’ll be able to avoid her.

“This is now your home too Loki. The Agent just wants to do a thorough job, certainly you can respect that. She doesn’t rush through tasks like me.” Thor smiles, and Loki feels the corner of his mouth rise ever so slightly. “She is a nice Lady, and I have to say she is pretty.”

“Brother don’t you have a beloved, that Midgardian scientist?”

“It’s…complicated.” Thor looks away, becoming visibly uncomfortable.

“Well then maybe you should court the Agent instead,” Loki said. It could be a good distraction to keep you away from him, Loki thinks to himself.

“No, I don’t think so brother,” Thor pauses. “I really am happy that you are here Loki. I know you want to be good. I’ve seen it myself. We can work together, I always believed we could conquer the nine realms together,” Thor laughs to himself.

Loki doesn’t know how to respond. That’s the whole reason he came here, isn’t it? To be good? To be a hero with Thor? But now, he is not so sure that is possible. He is the God of Mischief. Is it truly possible for someone like him to change and be better?

“Thank you, brother,” Loki said without being able to look up at his brother.

Thor wishes him a good night and then leaves him.

Soon he will be all alone again, forever, to do whatever he wants. Deciding what to do… well that will be a challenge for another day.

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki fanfic #mcu loki #loki laufeyson #mcu fanfiction #enemies to lovers #loki #Loki laufeyson #loki odinson

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intoloopin-archive · 11 months ago

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LOOP GOES DISCO #1 - "THE LAST PIT OF HELL IS AN ASSHOLE'S HOTEL BATHROOM."

A SERIES REWRITE OF DISCARDED SCENES USING DISCO ELYSIUM GAME MECHANICS/LINGO.

TWS: Drug use. Cursing. Self deprecating language. Fighting. Forced vomiting. Blood. Feelings being expressed weirdly at inappropriate times (???).

CONTEXT: This is rewrite of a missing scene from END AT ME: it's a glimpse at the Hell party that caused Minwoo to call Taesong on July 14th going 15th + what proceeded the final motel scene by 4 to 6 hours.

starring: Bang Minwoo. Xu 'J.J' Jiahang.

word account: 3.8K / 3,848 words.

writer's note: OKAY, SO! To anyone who's unfamiliar on how DE functions, fear not: this works as it's own thing. But to hopefully get you into the right mood, I'll link a video to the game's intro as well as the skill sheet out of detail so you can grasp what's being evoked here. Most skills have been adapted to fit this new setting and Minwoo's own psychology anyway, so understanding how they function in game or not (hopefully!) won't take away from any fun of this psyche dive. With that being said! Good read! This is the most fun I had all week!

THE ASSHOLE’S HOTEL BATHROOM - Filled with too many soap cabinets and a candelabra for a lamp – things of value but no *practical use* – the Asshole’s Hotel Bathroom looks exactly like you expect it to. To put it simply it's a fancy, cold and soulless shit deposit.

REACTION SPEED (Easy: Success) - Like your goddamn man.

EMPATHY (Challenging: Success) - Like *them*, your man’s ‘friends’, who share no traits with him. Not an hinch of loyalty to anything or anyone.

YOU - You inspect Jiahang, the said man – just a man, his own man – that you have an arm's hold of, dragging along behind you. He doesn’t want to come into the Asshole’s Hotel Bathroom, of course not. He doesn’t want to leave The Party and its Party People either, but he must be surgically extracted from them. He must be attended to, immediately.

ESPRIT DE CORPS (Medium: Fail) - You still have no idea why he jumped on to take what the asshole man offered you, why he tried to bargain your way out of the room at the expense of his already too dazed system, with a dry gulp of a too big pill ill meant for you, putting on a show so you could leave.

INTERFACING (Easy: Success) - As if you would ever choose to escape out of any Hell without him – as if you could make out of any labyrinth without your North Star.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY (Easy: Success) - God, he’s beautiful even while bone deep in physical discomfort. That’s art in real fucking staggering movements, all live, full color. He has mastered the sweet, sweet pain it takes to *be* music. He has beat you at your own game, Minwoo love. Beat you right up. *Beat you good*.

LOGIC (Easy: Success) - Whatever is that he swallowed, he needs it out of his system. Now.

YOU - You lock the door behind you, let his pulse go. You both stand in discrepant different examples of equilibrium at the center of the room.

VISUAL CALCULUS (Easy: Success) - The toilet has its lid already set open, like a paid extra.

“What were you thinking?!”

“You need to throw up. *Now*.”

No talking. No time to waste. Reach forward. Be of help.

YOU - You take an unfocused step forward, leaving two feet between Jiahang and you. The proximity accomplishes nothing: your fingers trail millimeters over his chest, failing to check anything, just shaking.

JIAHANG - "Minwoo hyung, c’mon… Calm down, okay, calm down… I can… take it, I’m alright…," Jiahang’s marijuana voice is something deeper in tone and lighter in sound, close to a whisper. He takes pauses to hold in anxious, misplaced laughs. “It’s not my… First rodeo, so… Calm down…”

LOGIC (Easy: Success) - He’s not new to drugs, that’s what he meant. Both in general, and with today’s doctor’s prescription: weed, cocaine, maybe, and the other thing, the white pill.

ENCYCLOPEDIA (Easy: Success) - You knew this already. You pretended not to, for someone’s sake – you don’t remember who, now – but it’s become obvious to you early on. How could it not when it’s *you*, a Guryo son who knows what to seek for when telling… *high risk riders* apart from any crowd.

LOGIC (Easy: Success) - And yet you did nothing to put a stop to it. You let it come to this. This is as much as your fault as it is the asshole man’s. You’re a fucking asshole man, Asshole Man.

YOU - Your head bends downwards, away from him, away from direct view.

INLAND EMPIRE (Medium: Success) - Because it pains you; the sight of him pains you. It always has. Every inch of his body is a light that cuts right through your retinas, close to being fatal.

DRAMA (Easy: Success) - By God, he’s made you just as blind as the piano and guitar have. *He really is music*.

“Why are you, out of everyone, making stupid fucking decisions?!”

Give me something else. I won’t say that.

YOU - Give me something else. I won’t say that.

HALF LIGHT (Challenging: Fail) - Oh? And why the fuck not?

It’s not what he needs to fucking hear now, shit Head!

The night’s been already harsh enough. Try to be kind or something, fuck Hell.

Please, *please* don’t make me say it. I don’t wanna say it.

YOU - It’s not what he needs to fucking hear now, shit Head!

HALF LIGHT (Challenging: Fail) - Well, fuck-o, this is all you got. Have you forgotten who you are? You’re a brute and ruthless son of a gun. Shoot-words-to-kill, that’s the Bang Minwoo pattern of speech. You know nothing else.

“Why are you, out of everyone, making stupid fucking decisions?!”

[COMPOSURE CHECK: IMPOSSIBLE (3% CHANCE).] Breath.

[LOGIC CHECK: GODLY (27% CHANCE).] Come up with something else. Something soothing. *Anything*.

LOGIC CHECK: FAILURE. - As you search your oceanic brain for a cohesive, less deadly set of words, you find nothing but a dark void and the defeating sound of static. You’re tongue tied. You’re jaw set. You’re furious. You’re terrified. You’re only half inside your own body.

PAIN THRESHOLD (Impossible: Fail) - The smell of urine and powder mixed together, coming straight off the toilet to your nose. The sensation of being too small, too impotent inside a big room that you’ve never seen so big. The body of a loved one shivering close, mad with fever.

INLAND EMPIRE (Challenging: Fail) - It’s all too familiar, isn’t it now, crack baby?

[-1 MORALE.]

THE AWARENESS OF THE LOOP - TIME IS A FLAT FUCKING CIRCLE, AND YOU DREW ITS LINE THEN, AND YOU DREW ITS LINE NOW!

“Why are you, out of everyone, making stupid fucking decisions?!”

[COMPOSURE CHECK: IMPOSSIBLE (1% CHANCE).] Breath.

COMPOSURE CHECK: EPIC FAIL. - Thinking of breathing only makes your breathing worse. Stop. Thinking. Of. It. STOP. IMMEDIATELY.

[-1 PHYSICAL.]

“Why are you, out of everyone, making stupid fucking decisions?!”

YOU - “Why are you, out of everyone, making stupid fucking decisions?!”

JIAHANG - Slowly, as if he’s hearing you with a 15 second delay, Jiahang looks up at you with his big stars for eyes, embedded in a sea of red. “What..?”

“You–! Jesus Christ, you fucking heard me, Jiahang!”

YOU - “You–! Jesus Christ, you fucking heard me, Jiahang!”

“I can’t deal with you having a crash, I can’t witness that sort of *shit*! You know why I fucking can’t!”

YOU - “I can’t deal with you having a goddamn crash, I can’t witness that sort of *shit*! You know why I fucking can’t!”

JIAHANG - The delay’s gone, it seems: in front of you, Jiahang flinches, withers, pressing his tiny lips close together.

AUTHORITY (Challenging: Success) - BE CALM. He’s scared, but not of you – only of himself, what he’s done, and what you might think of him now.

EMPATHY (Medium: Success) - And he’s ashamed of what he took you back to, now that he realizes – the razor sharp flashes of your once uncle seem to flow between you telepathically.

THE BLURRY PHOTO INSIDE YOUR WALLET - *GOODSPEED, BANG WOOHYUN – BELOVED BROTHER, ADORED SON, TRUE FATHER. AND MAY GOD LAY YOU TO REST KINDLY.*

CONCEPTUALIZATION (Medium: Success) - He’s always scared of what people might think of him. It’s his Achilles tendon. When it comes to you, the fear of letting down goes hand in hand with an old, too familiar grief.

UNTRACEABLE RUSH OF DOPAMINE - Tell him. Tell him what we think of him, now and always. It’s time.

“I just don’t get– You or, or! You’re supposed to be music, for shit’s sake! Whatever the fuck that means!”

Don’t make me do this to me now.

I don’t fucking know what I think, alright?! Not about him, not about anything anymore! *I don’t know!* And I don’t want to know! I don’t give a shit! I never fucking have!

YOU - I don’t fucking know what I think, alright?! Not about him, not about anything anymore! *I don’t know!* And I don’t want to know! I don’t give a shit! I never fucking have!

DRAMA (Easy: Success) - Alright, sire, alright. Don’t open the Pandora’s Box that is your stone heart, if you’re too much of a pussy to see what’s been growing inside. Suit your weak self, take the coward’s road. Just be careful not to fall too hard while embarking on this deep, deep sink of yours into that old, old Egyptian river.

ENCYCLOPEDIA (Legendary: Success) - That old Egyptian river is called the Nile river. Say it's determiner and name three times quickly out loud. The joke writes itself.

INLAND EMPIRE (Easy: Success) - Not a easier joke to decipher than *you*, of course, Bang Man.

JIAHANG - It takes him a while, but Jiahang eventually recovers; straightens his spine up, grows back to big. “If you can’t see it, then… leave, then. You can… do that. You brought me my bag, I– I took the *thing* for you, you’re free– free to go. So go on. Turn around, just turn– turn around, if that’s what… what you want so bad!”

[VOLITION RED CHECK: IMPOSSIBLE (0% CHANCE). YOU CAN’T RETRY IT.] Leave.

I can’t leave him.

“I can’t leave you!”

YOU - I can’t leave him.

PERCEPTION (Heroic: Fail) - Ah, yes. That you have no strength to do. It's as simple as that.

“I can’t leave you – not like this!”

“I can’t leave you – not with them!”

“I just *can’t leave you*!”

YOU - “I can’t leave you, Jiahang – not like this!”

JIAHANG - You see a frown show up on his forehead as he mouths ‘like this’, like it’s an insult, but doesn’t say it. What he does say is a frustrated, confused plea of, “Then what, Minwoo? Then *what*?!”

HAND/EYE COORDINATION (Easy: Success) - Oh, sire. You know exactly what you must do.

[SUGGESTION CHECK: FORMIDABLE (38% CHANCE).] Convince Jiahang to throw up. Keep talking. He’s giving in.

[REACTION SPEED CHECK: CHALLENGING (65% CHANCE).] Make him throw up. You’ve lost too much damn time already with all this fucking talking.

[PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT RED CHECK: IMPOSSIBLE (1% CHANCE). YOU CAN’T RETRY IT.] Shove him into the bathtub and turn on the ice cold shower. Let the thermal shock overwhelm him, then make him throw up there. It’s risky, but it feels like the way.

REACTION SPEED CHECK: FAIL. You raise your arms and grab him suddenly by the elbows, catching him visibly by surprise – and it all goes quickly downhill from there.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT (Challenging: Epic Fail) - Your limbs struggle to make him bend any way, let alone to the direction of the toilet or the floor. Under your feet, the humid ground keeps you from grounding yourself enough to make any of this work. Nothing’s in your favor. You realize your mistake too late.

RHETORIC (Easy: Success) - You should have thought this through. Jiahang is, after all, much taller than you – and much too cherished for your hands to dare squeeze or scratch.

YOU - Your fingers let go without you telling them to. Bad equilibrium disrupted, Jiahang slips on the wet tiles and falls sideways, head bumping with the toilet’s unforgiving ceramic, nose first, sound second: a horrible cry out of pain you heard just once.

[CRITICAL MORALE DAMAGE.]

[CRITICAL PHYSICAL DAMAGE.]

YOU - DEAR GOD. MY DEAR GOD.

EMPATHY (Medium: Success): DON’T SHUT DOWN – YOU CAN’T. IT MAKES YOU MORE VICIOUS. YOU DIDN’T MEAN TO: HE MUST KNOW YOU DIDN’T MEAN TO. RUSH TO PROVE IT– HELP!

JUMP TO HELP!

YOU - YOU JUMP TO HELP! You’re on your knees quicker than you’ve ever been, palming his back, his shoulder.

JIAHANG - He glimpses at you sideways, then hides his face away, turning it to the opposite side. A lonely stream of blood drips from his left nostril, and he rushes to cover it with his trembling hand. You notice; you hear a sob.

RETHORIC (Heroic: Fail) - You’re a wordsmitch, fuck face, or are you not?! SAY SOMETHING. FIX THIS.

“Fuck, you– You didn’t give me *any other choice*, like!!!”

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so sorry so so sorry I’m sorry sorry!!!!!!”

Fuck it. Focus on the mission. Put your fingers down his throat. Count damages later.

YOU - Make the worst worth it, you think, as you scoopes his face in.

LOGIC (Medium: Fail) - Will it even accomplish anything? The white pill’s been in his system for over 20 minutes, not to mention all the rest, a pool party of shit in his bloodstream. Anyhow: better safe than sorry, you assume – you pray.

YOU - You fight to get your fingers into his mouth, meet a wall of teeth, a resistence of tongue; it opens after you let out a small curse, like a castle’s gate.

SUGGESTION (Easy: Success) - So *this* is how it feels.

PERCEPTION (Medium: Success) - Under you, he’s stopped moving. Jiahang has no real strength or deep desire to push you out or hurt you. He might even understand the invasion, under the haze; be grateful for it, even.

YOU - You feel it when it comes, a stream of bile. You remove your hand and wipes it on your trousers, sees Jiahang bending over to sit and spill sick yellow vomit for seconds, a minute.

ENCYCLOPEDIA (Easy: Success) - Even though you’ve hurt him not a second ago – it wasn’t even the first time, either – he hasn’t bitten a single finger of yours off when he had the chance. Not a follower of the Eye For an Eye school of thinking, this pupil of yours, despite your suffocating influence. That’s good. You’re nothing but a bad preacher of a bad religion.

JIAHANG - When he’s done spitting and coughing, Jiahang begins to curl into himself, turning into a quiet small ball on the floor, too close to the release pool.

“I’m sorry. It was the only way– I’m sorry.”

“Jiahang-ah, please, let me take a look at you – Let me look at you, *please*.”

[AUTHORITY CHECK: EASY. 92% CHANCE.] “Show me your nose, now.”

AUTHORITY CHECK: SUCCESS.

YOU - “Show me your nose, now.”

PERCEPTION (Easy: Success) - He does, without a fight, lying on the floor with his head facing the ceiling. It’s bad, the bruise – the damage. You help guide him to sit up straight as he can.

YOU - You extend your hand to the side, up– The toilet paper dances off the holder as you push it, and it rolls away. You get enough of it to wrap it over your open palm three times, to make an amateur glove. You wipe the trace of blood off his mouth as gently as you can.

JIAHANG - “I’m such a… mess, just so–!” He cries, suddenly; a dam of tears, hot and uncontainable. “Awful, *awful* thing, disgusting fucking– fucking *thing*!”

“I know. I know exactly what you are.”

“That’s not all there is to you, baby, it’s not all there is to you at all, listen to me, honey, *listen*, **please listen**.”

“You could be worse.”

YOU - “You could be worse.”

JIAHANG - This gets his attention. “How even– Worse how?” Jiahang asks, mid hiccup, mid wail. “Give me one– One fucking example, if you… can. Can you? You *can’t*, can you?!”

SHIVERS (Medium: Success) - Around you and around him, The Party keeps on going, like a nonstop train. Your ears attune themselves to the purr of it – it's a habit. You’re too often outside rooms buzzing with life, only listening in through paper thin walls, missing the experience of it.

EMPATHY (Heroic: Success) - No one has come to check on him, you both have realized – Jiahang a minute faster than you. None of his Party People friends give a flying fuck. The reality is falling down on him like a skyscraper, crushing, breathtaking, killer.

AUTHORITY (Legendary: Success) - LET THE OUTSIDE WORLD GO QUIET. THERE IS SOMETHING HE WANTS TO HEAR YOU SAY.

[REACTION SPEED RED CHECK: IMPOSSIBLE (11% CHANCE.) YOU CAN’T RETRY IT.] Start listing the real world things that are worse than him. (There’s a ton, and you know them intimately – and you know him intimately. Give Jiahang something else to weep for.)

[DRAMA RED CHECK, IMPOSSIBLE (9% CHANCE.) YOU CAN’T RETRY IT.] Start listing the unreal, out of this world things worse than him – the ones you’ve seen in your open eyed dreams. (Not as many options, but a tad lighter. Make the sadness disappear, bring anything close to a laugh back. Be the mad man for a great cause.)

[INLAND EMPIRE RED CHECK: LEGENDARY (26% CHANCE). YOU CAN’T RETRY IT.] “You could be like me. I’m worse than you’ll ever be.” (The truth. It can only hurt you.)

Say nothing.

INLAND EMPIRE CHECK: SUCCESS.

YOU - “You could be like me. I’m worse than you’ll ever be.”

LOGIC (Challenging: Success) - There is nothing worse than you, False Prophet, Fake Noah. Obsessed with connecting melodies, speaking truthfully only through rhyme schemes on pieces of paper that meet no one, only the bottom of trash cans or the back of your hard pillow. You’re not functional. You’re no leading man. You’re no good.

INLAND EMPIRE (Medium: Success) - But it feels good, doesn’t it? To finally admit how rotten you are after a whole life of pretending you’re a giving three, a good soil.

EMPATHY (Challenging: Success) - To say to someone who knows it, understands it, and stays.

[+1 MORALE]

Wait, I gained a fucking morale point from THAT?!

YOU - What the actual fuck?!

RHETORIC (Medium: Success) - You’re neck deep into shit, pal. Just count your win. It’s only a consolidation medal, nothing more, nothingbless – kiddo needs his fake prizes to fill his kiddo fuel.

JIAHANG - “But… I feel like you already,” he tells you. “All the time, hyung… All the time, I feel like you– Angry, and upset, and– and so lonely.”

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT (Easy: Success) - Wait, what’s that taunting your face, blocking your neck…? Oh, fucking Hell…! You’re crying! You’re nodding at him and crying!

AUTHORITY (Impossible: Fail) - HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU CRYING?! You don’t do that anymore, you’ve forgotten how. Revoke it. Revoke it along with all this sweat taking over your body.

“Don’t you dare say that.”

“I’m sorry, Jiahang. This is not– Not what I wanted to happen.”

“Just– Give me a minute, God, give me a minute!”

YOU - “I’m sorry, Jiahang. This is not– Not what I wanted to happen.”

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT (Easy: Success) - The tears prickle your eyes, actually turn you momentarily blind. You blink, hard, adjusting to their salt. It reminds you of how hard to stomach you are, inside out.

PAIN THRESHOLD (Medium: Success) - And it reminds you of how much saltier you’ve used to be. The tears are already falling off your sad sockets, sire – let them.

[+1 PHYSICAL.]

JIAHANG - “It’s not so bad, right, I think, to have… Turned into *this*, because– You’re no longer… lonely, and… Neither am I, right…? We can both be happy with that, be happy…” He doesn’t finish speaking; just closes his eyes, closes his mouth.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY (Medium: Fail) - We like the visual he’s evoking, Minwoo love. Picture the two of you, holding hands, walking right into the dooming sun– Oh, oh! Romeo and Romeo, tongue deep into each other’s poison bitter throats!!!

EMPATHY (Medium: Success) - Your man’s not right. He’s fading. This isn’t the Jiahang you want; most importantly, this isn’t the Jiahang that *Jiahang wants*. This is no good, Minwoo.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY (Medium: Fail) - It’s as close as we'll ever get to having any Jiahang *at all*. Enjoy it! We should kiss him now. Seal this deal right up. Two shots of Marriage In Misery and a whole bottle of Honeymoon On The Floor (Animal Style) coming *right the fuck up*, sign it to the wingless lovebirds right there, near the piss jar!!!

EMPATHY (Medium: Success) - Let go of his hand. Check his eyes. Help him up.

INLAND EMPIRE (Legendary: Fail) - Or perhaps this is the time for you to leave. You shouldn’t have ever touched him, to begin with. You shouldn’t have spoken a single word beyond ‘Goodbye’ to this man when he was still a graduating boy. You shouldn’t have made him think that he needed to cling to ruination to shine. You shouldn't have come to know any of them.

Kiss Jiahang. (ANIMAL FUCKING STYLE!!!)

Check Jiahang up (medically.), then help him up. You both need to leave the Asshole's Hotel Bathroom and The Asshole’s Hotel all together.

Walk away – Just walk away. His shortness of breath seems contagious. It’s sticking to your lungs.

YOU - It takes no effort to untangle your hands from his, to place them both on his cheeks, tend to the temperature.

ENCYCLOPEDIA (Challenging: Success) - His skin is at 110 degrees, to be precise. The lucky-unlucky number, if you’ll believe it.

LOGIC (Medium: Success) - It’s a mind and body turmoil. I’m afraid you can do nothing about it.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN, *DO NOTHING*?! FUCK OFF.

I can do something, I– I feel it.

I refuse to let him fall. I reject it.

YOU - I refuse to let him fall. I reject it.

INLAND EMPIRE (Medium: Success) - Cute, my lord, but still not enough. You might as well swear to become a whole different man, in your desperation, if you want to make this medicine of yours come true – transform into a superhuman, super empathic man suit. Like the Taesong Taesong thinks he is.

Good, I’ll swear on it, I’ll be it – I've been waiting for an excuse to tend to the internal damage and start a renovation. This is will be my new wallpaper.

No, don’t swear on it, fool – There’s no need to be extreme. *There’s no guarantee it will work*.

YOU - No, don’t swear on it, fool – There’s no need to be extreme. *There’s no guarantee it will work.*

ENCYCLOPEDIA (Challenging: Success) - Exactly. Hold your horses, Bang Man. Take this promise in. You never tried to be anything besides what you are now. You’re a 26-year-old hound – in dog years that’s 116 to 128 years of living. There’s no space inside your head for new tricks, new instincts.

DRAMA (Easy: Success) - You’re chained to a wall, my liege. You have to tear it the fuck down, and clean the concrete aftermath, and rise from the ashes of it – full Fenix style. Fail at that and you’ll be here again, if not in this asshole’s hotel bathroom, then another asshole’s hotel bathroom; if not with him, then with someone else, just as meaningful. You got the need for change, now? The need to compromise the fuck out of you?!

AUTHORITY (Heroic: Success): Say you got it now.

Fine. I guess I got it now.

I got it! I fucking got it, goddammit!

I understand.

YOU - I understand.

INLAND EMPIRE (Challenging: Success) - My, oh my… It seems you really do.

THE AWARENESS OF THE LOOP - *OH?* OH! THIS IS A REAL STEP, THIS IS SOMETHING – OH, THIS IS *REALLY SOMETHING NOW*, LITTLE MOON, WHAT A MAGNIFICENT EFFORT! THIS IS PROGRESS YOU’RE HOLDING THE HAND OF, AND IT’S PLEASED TO MEET YOU AT LAST, SO PLEASED TO MEET YOU! THE THING ABOUT IT– THE THING WITH PROGRESS, SHARP-TOOTHED ONE, IS THAT THERE IS NEVER ANY INGLORIOUS END – THERE’S NO END TO IT AT ALL!

[HIDDEN TASK, ‘TAKE THE 1ST STEP OF A 100 INTO METAMORPHOSIS’, COMPLETE.]

[+30 EXPERIENCE.]

[YOU CAN LEVEL UP A SKILL NOW.]

[END?]

[END.]

#&& ⠀ [ . . . ] hound on a hunt ⠀⸻ extras .#&& ⠀ [ . . . ] hound on a hunt ⠀⸻ writing .#fictional idol community #fake kpop group #kpop au #kpop fanfic #kpop oc #I'm just a girl having fun!!!!!

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sherbet-shivers · 7 months ago

Text

A Minor Malfunction Part 3/3

Thank you to the handful of you who've been following along and left notes <3 I was scared to post this and am glad knowing some of you are enjoying it! I definitely want to share more stuff soon, but until then, thanks for being so kind - now onto the finale!

**Please do not share to non-kink snz blogs — no need to drag vanillas into this! Formatting tips are always welcome <3**

Blurb: Co/nnor is STILL suffering a little virus (Part 1 here, Part 2 here)

Characters: Co/nnor R/K800 (-centric because he’s babygirl) and H/ank A/nderson

Length: 3k+ words

TW: cursing, minor android injuries, coughing; light spoilers

“Connor! Oi! Connor! CONNOR! WAKE UP SON! CONNOR!!”

His name echoes faintly as he gradually comes to; blinking away an endless blackness until he’s finally conscious of someone’s repeated shouting. The fuzzy blob of muted color in front of him slowly begins to take shape, eventually resembling that of…of…

“Hank…?”

Blinking again, Connor sees the detective in returning detail; enough to place his arms in both his peer’s hands, which were rattling him like a child’s toy. It didn’t help keep the world from spinning in his eyes, but it did manage to rouse him from his blackout. He’d have to remember to thank him for the assistance. To thank…to thank…?

Connor gasps.

“Hank?!”

How didn’t he recognize him sooner? His beloved Lieutenant is standing right in front of him, panting heavily while he’s got him clutched in a vice grip. Connor doesn’t understand what’s going on, but regardless, he’s thankful to have been broken out of his loop, and back to processing the environment around him. He’s still running on low energy — just 31% of his maximum efficiency — but at least he’s back awake. Looking about, he gathers that together, he and Hank have somehow migrated outside the house and to the victim’s porch where rain engulfs everything visible in sight. Connor’s senses flood with the heavy scent of petrichor and grass, a refreshing contrast to the musty odor of dead bodies and dried Thirium.

“Jesus Connor!” Hank cries, finally letting go of Connor’s sides and doubling over with his hands cupping his knees.

“S-Sorry, Lieutenant…,” Connor drawls like a drunk. “I didn’tttt…mean to’ignore or upset you. I-“

Without explanation, Hank lunges forward and tugs Connor into a hug, squeezing his sides and enveloping him in a human warmth he wasn’t familiar with. It felt… different than the heat he produced himself. It was gentle…light…kind…

Home?

He wasn’t sure where the thought originated from, or why now of all times, but he hasn’t any time to ponder anyway; not with Hank shouting in his ears.

“I’m not upset you moron! I’m just-! Just-!” Hank hesitates, swallowing before sighing a cloud of smoke into the air. The outdoors were freezing. There’s no way he could’ve been comfortable out in this weather, Connor thinks. How long has he been waiting for him to wake up?

Hank relinquishes his grip and drops his hands to his sides. He tries saying something a few times, but each attempt dies awkwardly at his lips. Instead, he opts for an explanation. “You, uh, weren’t responding after the fall, so…-”, Hank gestures to his left cheek, “-I moved you out here. Thought you might’ve shut off or overloaded or something.”

He’d done this for my sake? Connor shuffles awkwardly where he stands, bowing his head and mirroring Hank’s body language. He raises a hand to the curve of his cheekbone, and to his surprise, a patch of synthetic skin was missing — exposing a layer of pure, reflective, white metal. The “flesh” wasn’t regenerating back, which Connor supposed was normal given such a low status of functionality. Grazing his face, Connor also realizes his nose is bleeding, staining his fingers with the remnants of dried blue blood.

When he looks back up, Hank is holding out a handkerchief for him to take, most likely to clean up the Thirium smeared across his face. Connor accepts the offer politely and proceeds to wipe his nose clean.

“Apologies, Lieutenant,” is all he manages to whisper.

Hank hates seeing Connor mope, and so he deflects by exaggerating another long sigh.

“God, quit it with the puppy dog eyes, Connor. Okay? Nobody’s mad at you.”

“But my defect. My impairment has-!“

“Done nothing. You may have forgotten, but you and I already recorded the last piece of evidence we needed,” Hank reassures, fishing a small notebook from his pocket and flashing it in Connor’s face as proof. “I’ll have you analyze the data later.”

Connor blinks in renewed recognition. “O-Of course! I’d be more than hah’h-…! H’haah’p-py to’hH-!”

Why is it always when he’s speaking? Eyes slipping closed, the corner of Connor’s lips twitch in unison with his nose. He looks confused, even though it’s far from the first time he’s been in this state today — hanging helplessly between a sneeze and an itch attacking his consoles.

The sensation takes its time with him. It skips around his sinuses like it’s performing a ballet; every step baiting him into trembling breaths that climb in octave, while igniting a tickle that evades his pinches and rubs. It’s like the tingling itself was indestructible, and in Connor’s state, there simply was no contest between who was stronger in this situation.

“Excuse’me-!” he gasps, just as he tears to his side. “hH’ZSHh! ehHih…-! ’TSCH’hyieww! ah-! haAh!…ah’TCH-!..ieew…oh…”

The last one he tries stifling, which he immediately regrets. It did nothing to stop the sneeze, and worse, added injury to inconvenience by rocketing an unpleasant shock through his temples. A private alert indicates a sudden increase in cranial pressure as Connor swipes his nose across his sleeve. He reasons he must look terrible, because when he blinks back at Hank, the old man is frowning deeper than before.

“Bless you,” Hank comments sympathetically.

“Thank you,” Connor sighs. “As I was saying, I’d be happy to-“

He reaches for the notebook, but this time instead of interrupting himself, Hank is the one intercepting; shaking his head and clicking his tongue like a parent chiding a child.

“Later,” he repeats, flicking the Android in the forehead with a ting! that leaves him blinking and scrunching his nose. “You can look at it after you’ve pulled yourself together and I’ve had something to drink. I’m fucking starving,” he mutters. “So just consider your mission complete and listen to me for once, alright?”

“Y-Yes, Lieutenant…,” Connor answers. His protocol dictated he file his report immediately, but since it conflicted with the urgency to remove Hank from the cold, he could accept his partner’s request for now.

“I could treat you to a trip to Jimmy’s Bar or Chicken Feed, if you prefer.”

Hank shrugs. “As much as I’d like to take your money, both are closed at this hour,” the detective groans, scrubbing his face with a calloused palm. Connor checks the internet for the location’s hours to confirm, but can’t reach the site on such low battery. It didn’t matter anyway — Hank was never wrong when it came to his food.

“No bother. How about you just use that annoying ass coin of yours to catch us a ride to my place?” He nods at Connor’s left pocket, opposite the one he conceals his dog treats in. “It’ll be out of this shit storm, at least. Plus, there are plenty of microwave dinners there,” Hank suggests.

For the first time since re-awakening, Connor smiles.

“Of course; whatever you want, Lieutenant.”

….

Hank’s kitchen had never been more appealing. As soon as they’d reached the house, Hank had led Connor inside, one hand around his waist to keep him from going limp again. Sumo did his best to assist as well, by securing one of Connor’s pockets in his mouth and tugging him along. Sure it was just as likely he was searching for Connor’s stash of hidden biscuits, but even so, Connor liked to believe in the comforting nature of his best canine pal.

“Good boy, Sumo,” Connor compliments while Hank helps him into a seat at the dining table.

Hank scoffs under his breath. “You talking to me or the dog?”

Connor peeks at his Lieutenant, brandishing a dopey, boyish grin. “You’re a good boy too, Lieutenant.”

“Christ, you’re even weirder when you’re sick, Connor,” Hank huffs, though the sound borders between that and a breathy chuckle. “Didn’t think that was possible, but here we are.”

He helps Connor out of his jacket, shaking it free of rainwater (and loose dog treats) before slumping it over the back of his couch.

“I’ll grab you some dry clothes, but I’m not helping you get dressed, you got it?”

“Got it,” Connor nods, already loosening his tie from his neck. Hank retreats the room before he can see anything more, and by the time he returns, the Android is already stripped down; his clothes abandoned to the floor in perfect folds and the rest of him wrapped up in the living room blanket. That works too, Hank figures, settling his spare clothes onto the couch before joining Connor in the kitchen.

Connor is scratching Sumo’s cheeks while Hank beelines for the fridge, rummaging through the shelves until he locates a plate of leftover pizza. He really should heat it up in the microwave, but he’s so done with the day he doesn’t even bother. Instead, he seats himself across from Connor and his pup, sweeps a handful of wrappers onto the floor to clear up some tablespace, then plops his plate in front of him with a resounding thump! Finally seated, Hank claps his hands to trigger the overhead fluorescent light, which illuminates the immediate space in a flush of jail-cell white. In this lighting, Connor’s blue stained cheeks and nose are more pronounced, as is the damage he’d accumulated thanks to his fall. Hank doesn’t like the look of that injury, but refuses to draw attention to it as he scoops his meat-lover's slice into his hands.

“Sumo gave me the blanket,” Connor says, raising one tucked arm beneath the fabric. “Is he used to tucking you in too, Lieutenant?”

Hank grins, snorting and taking a hearty bite of his slice. That cheese definitely would’ve tasted better warm. “Not usually,” he answers, swallowing then reaching across the table for a half-drained bottle of Jack Daniels. Connor passes it to him mid-reach. “Used to uh…,” he debates whether or not to continue, before adding, “used to tuck Cole in, sometimes.”

He nods towards the blanket draping down Connor’s shoulders. “Same blanket, too.”

Connor’s eyes grow owlish, and he quickly scrambles to remove himself from the fabric. “Oh! I-I’m so sorry I didn’t-!”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hank reassures, shaking his head and taking another bite. “I don’t need to see you naked while I’m eating, anyway. No offense,” Hank drawls sarcastically mid-chew.

Connor reluctantly takes his word for it, and clutches the blanket tight around himself again. He starts to say something, hoping to change the subject, when he’s overwhelmed by a familiar, griping gasp. He pinches at his face, but Hank leans across the table and smacks his hand away, startling the Android into retreating his touch.

“Quit that. It’s not like it does you any good anyway.”

“B’uht-!”

“No buts, Connor. You hear me?”

Connor whines, but nods nontheless.

“Y’yheH-…! Yes, Lieutenant-!”

He hurries to get the formality out before turning to his side and sneezing towards the floor.

“hi’PTSHh’yiEW! isSCH’uUi…! aeSH’Hiew!”

“Bless you.”

Sumo also barks in blessing, and Connor thanks both of them absentmindedly as he straightens in his seat again.

WARNING!!! Functionality: Critically Impaired. Code: C5Y0091-53BC. Result: Bio-Component Defects And Malfunction. Risk Of Shut-Down: Imminent. Self-Repairs Update Ongoing. Time Remaining: 53 Hours, 45 Minutes, And 12 Seconds

Connor sniffles and blinks away the warning. It wasn’t like it said anything he didn’t already know. Still, his processor felt like it was swimming, and already he was back to tipping in his chair. Luckily Hank is there to help, his hand flying across the table and once again planting on his shoulder. After a few seconds, Connor is able to sit by himself again.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Connor whispers, followed by a chesty cough.

Hank lingers for a moment before leaning back into his seat, though he remains wary even as he resumes eating.

“You Androids always sneeze in three’s?”

“What?”

“Like three’s,” Hank repeats. “You always sneeze in three’s. That normal for your…people?”

“Oh,” Connor says, pinching at his nose. “No. I don’t think so. But-“

He shakes his head and blinks to refresh his vision.

“-like I mentioned earlier, it’s not a natural reaction to begin with. Well, neither is being infected with a virus in general, I mean.”

“Huh,” Hank nods, ripping off a piece of crust, “so this typ’a situation is rare, I’m assuming.”

“Yes,” Connor sniffs. “Very.”

“This is your first time?”

Connor nods.

Hank hums, continuing to pick at his pizza until it’s entirely crust free. Connor watches him in silence, debating whether or not to speak without being asked to. Hank wasn’t a big conversationalist, but Connor knew he disliked quiet just as much sometimes.

“It’s…not ideal,” Connor finally elaborates, eyes glued to Hank’s plate, even as the latter looks towards him. “As an Android designed to prevent failure, it is imperative I am operating at maximum efficiency as often as possible. I was directed by CyberLife to overcome these bugs in my system, as they should never hinder my work or means to reach standard objectives. Otherwise, my lack of perseverance could be qualified as a defect, meaning I am defective.”

Connor grows quiet for a moment, hanging his head low so he’s looking down at his own clasped hands in his lap. From where Hank is sitting, he looks…timid. Afraid; like a child confessing to a bad deed. It unearths the same softness Hank had tried to forget about years ago.

“To have been invaded by a virus means I’ve made some kind of mistake,” Connor sighs. “And I do not wish to be perceived as a mistake…as a malfunction.”

Hank watches his partner carefully, then breathes out a heavy handed exhale.

“Do you know what happened yesterday?”

Connor lifts his head, meeting Hank’s stare. He shakes his head immediately.

“No. I mean, I remember the case, but there are these peculiar gaps in my memory; particularly one four second blackout…why?”

“Ah,” Hank rolls his eyes, sighing as finishes off his meal and unscrews the cap off his liquor. As he pours himself a new glass, he proceeds with his discussion.

“That MJ100 from yesterday; the one with the busted up face and knee? You noticed something was off about her airways when you looked at her; said her chest components were all wonky or something. You were skeptical it may be influencing her behavior.”

He tops off his glass and moves the bottle back to the center of the table. Connor noticed how Hank wasn’t drinking as much these days — an improvement.

“I thought you were full of shit, but then you hypothesized her knee may not have been the sole hindrance to her escape — said you thought the congestion in her cogs may have been slowing her processing speed or some other techno-babble. And since you never listen to me and refused to compromise her functioning, you decided to investigate her innards for yourself — popped her open, fished your hand in her guts, and then-“

“Contracted her virus,” Connor concludes in shock. Hank shrugs, tipping his glass back and inviting that cherished burn back into his throat. It loosens his joints and clears up his senses, invigorating him with heat that soothes his frigid bones.

“That’s my guess. You must’ve gone dark without anyone noticing. Probably corrupted some of the data you had recorded that day. Regardless, you were acting “off” for the rest of the evening; I just couldn’t figure out why.”

Hank chuckles. “Thought you were just being a freak like usual but you live and you learn,” he grumbles, indulging in a second swig. Still, I should’ve known, he thinks.

Connor sits with the newfound information, a few of the final pieces of his memory falling into place. It didn’t change his circumstances any, but at least the mystery he’d been grappling with had been solved. In some ways, even that was a relief in and of itself.

Still, he couldn’t help but be disappointed in his slip-up. He should’ve been more cautious! If he had been, then maybe he wouldn’t have gotten himself into such a ridiculous and avoidable predicament. He could’ve maintained his professionalism today at work and on the case, instead of offloading unnecessary stress onto his partner. He could’ve negated the need for all of today’s warnings! There would’ve been no risk for failure-! For defects-! For-!

“Let me ask you something, Connor.”

Connor lifts his head, meeting his commander’s eyes. Hank’s tone was serious, his expression hardened to match.

“Yes, Lieutenant?”

The detective leans forward, hands tapping around his glass.

“Do you feel defective?”

“Do I feel defective?” Connor repeats. Hank nods. “Uh, I’m sorry. I’m afraid I don’t understand your question.”

Hank rolls his eyes again, though he’s far from exasperated. A third sip of whiskey pools heat into his chest and stings the tip of his tongue the way he likes.

“Y’know Connor,” he starts, “when humans are sick, we — well, most people — don’t consider them defective. That kind of thinking is pretty outdated for the times, anyway.”

He peeks at Connor, who watches him intently as he continues. “So how is it technology like you — a brand fucking new automaton-“

“Model RX8-“

Hank holds up a free hand, quieting his talkative companion so he himself may continue.

“So how can someone as smart as you be stuck in such a stupid, old-school train of logic, huh? And that’s coming from me, a stupid old-school human,” Hank snorts.

Connor stares back innocently at his partner, his LED unwittingly phasing between a blue and yellow light.

“Listen, Con; humans get hurt, or damaged, or sick, and sometimes even occasionally break down — it’s a part of life. And sure, Androids are different and aren’t built to break, but Hell, everything does! Even CyberLife knows that because there’s seventy fucking repair shops for your types all over the state alone! So they can’t blame or punish you when you “malfunction”. Especially not when you still operate better than half the fucking turds walking the streets.”

“Walking…turds?” Connor asks, frowning in confusion. Usually his naivety pissed Hank off, but this time, it only makes the officer laugh.

“What I’m saying is shit happens, Connor. Leisure, work, health; it’s all a balance. Catching a cold or virus or whatever? It doesn’t make you any less a cop…or my partner. Not in my eyes, at least.”

Embarrassed to be admitting as much, Hank averts his eyes to his dog Sumo, who nestles up against his legs beneath the table. In doing so, he misses the smile that stretches across Connor’s face and returns a faint glow behind his eyes.

”So I’ll ask you again,” Hank rephrases, “do you feel defective? How do you feel?” Hank asks as he pets aggressively between Sumo’s ears.

“I…I-…I don’t know. I’m not even sure I know how or what to feel,” Connor answers. Hank’s expression barely changes, but Connor can see him clench his jaw and furrow his brows. “That is,” he continues, “I’m not sure what the human equivalent could ever be, which makes this hard to explain. However, if I had to answer…”

Connor trails off, raising a hand to his chest and truly sensing the turmoil stirring in his body. Aside from the virus, something had been changing within him lately; something new outside of his expected adaptations. It was different…but also something innate that may have always been there. If he didn’t know any better, he’d maybe even think it were something…

Alive?

He shakes his head and coughs lightly against a freed fist.

“I feel…unlike myself. I feel bad. I feel-…unwell,” he confesses, “but-“

The Android smiles a little in spite of himself, relaxing his shoulders and easing into his seat. “I don’t know why…but saying that out loud…I feel better. Better than I’ve been all day.”

Hank grins behind his glass, sipping in satisfaction before letting slip a hiss of pleasure. “Good. And for the record, feeling bad? That’s kinda what being sick is,” Hank nods. “Pretty damn unpleasant, but to be fair, so is being alive.”

That earns him a cheeky little giggle from the pestering Android across the table; one that Hank himself can’t help but return.

“You’ll be okay, though. Hell, you are okay; just feeling-,” he waves his hand, “-unwell.”

“hpTSHH’iew!”

“And-“

“hTDSHHh! ehSCH’hui!”

“…Sneezy,” Hank teases over Connor’s millionth “excuse me” that evening.

“Sorry,” Connor apologizes.

“Bless you. And you don’t have to keep saying that.”

Connor giggles a bit, blinking at Hank as he swipes at his nose.

“Well you don’t have to keep saying that, either.”

“Alright, alright you smartass,” Hank teases, grin stretching. It was good to see Connor being playful again. “But seriously, next time this happens, just be honest with me okay? Don’t need you pushing your processors or whatever it is you have. And uh-,” he pauses, sheepishly tracing the rim of his glass with his pinky, “-I’ll be more attentive to how you’re doing; like, what’s going on with you.”

Connor’s smile grows wider, more genuine. “Of course Lieutenant,” he accepts willfully, sniffling and pawing at his nose again. “And once I am well, I will go right back to doing my best. You have my word, Hank.”

Hank grins from across the table, then, rising to his feet, he walks over to Connor and anchors his hand to his shoulder, where he massages the area in circular strokes. Connor’s LED is stuck on yellow again, and his body felt renewed with that same warmth from earlier.

“You never stopped, kid. Now,” Hank starts out of the kitchen and heads towards his bedroom with Sumo tailing at his side. “I’ll handle the report to CyberLife and return you back to the station tomorrow. For tonight, your last task is taking care of yourself and recharging on the couch. Trust me, nothing beats lying on the couch when you’re sick.”

Connor means to protest, but Hank is a step ahead of him, already interrupting him by flinging a corded charger in his direction. Connor catches the outdated device in both his hands, and when he meets Hank’s parting glance back, he swears he catches a contagious light in the old Lieutenant’s smile.

Home repeats in his head, and returns a smile to his face.

“Alright, Hank. Whatever you say.”

#snz #snzfic #snzblr #snz kink #d/etroit: b/ecome h/uman #co/nnor r/k800 #h/ank a/nderson #wholesome end bc I put him through so much (sorry pookie)

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leafs-lover · 1 year ago

Text

Too Far Gone - Part Fifty Three

Warnings: swearing, smut - oral (f recieving), p in v, I think that's it?

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5900

It was early in the morning, earlier than Auston expected to wake. He and Tia were up until well after midnight, trading orgasms, him making good on that “later” promise. He couldn’t get enough of her, and she couldn’t get her fill of him. He thought they’d sleep in until Taylour came barrelling in, but based on the warm morning glow that has barely started to poke its way through the curtains, they have about an hour until then.

Tia lies next to him, gently stirring in her sleep while wearing one of his tee’s that has slipped off her shoulder, and, if memory serves, she is only wearing that t-shirt. Her chestnut brown locks are scattered across the pillow and a few strands have fallen over her face. She looks perfect, absolutely, fucking perfect. So perfect Auston doesn’t want this moment to end, but as the sun hits her bare skin and her subtle lilac bodywash is all he can smell, he can’t take it. He loops his arm around her chest and pulls her close, a soft, sleepy moan filling the air.

Through a haze she feels his fingers brush aside her hair, leaving her collarbone exposed. Next his lips press against her shoulder and neck, soft and gentle as wide smile spreads on his face.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning.” A smile spreads on her face and she kisses him, letting her finger scratch along his stubbled jaw.

“How’d you sleep?” His voice is raspy and full of gravel, but it doesn’t stop him from kissing her again.

“Really, really good.”

“Me too. Haven’t slept that good in ages.”

“Mhm, same.”

Tia barely gets the words out before Auston is pressing his lips back to hers, firmer this time. His hand finds her thigh and Tia feels the heat between her legs build as his touch slowly trails up, making its way to where they both need it most. Her back arches off the bed and he moves his hand to grab a handful of her ass, then smiles, he was remembering correctly.

Auston is quick to position himself between her legs and hooks them over his shoulders. They make eye contact and her pussy quivers when he kisses the skin of her inner thigh. His tongue licks along her, slowly and methodically moving closer and closer, her breathing becoming more erratic as anticipation builds.

Tia shudders at the feeling of his exhale against her swollen heat. He can tell she is sore, that she would appreciate if he took his time, slowly working his way in, but the sunlight hits her pussy and makes it glisten in a way that summons him in. He won’t be taking his time.

All the air leaves her lungs when his lips connect to hers and she cries out in pleasure when he sucks harshly on her clit. Like every time before her hips involuntarily flinch, and just like every time before, Auston grabs at her hips to hold her in place, but he isn’t going to let up. Her movements and sweet sounds only encourage him more.

“Aus.” She whimpers, fisting at the bedsheet. A deep, melancholic laugh comes from below, Auston always enjoyed this.

His tongue slides up and down then side to side, working at all the spots he knows will have her cursing until she can’t speak anymore. Her knuckles are going white, and his fingers dig in harder, surely leaving marks.

Following a rather sharp gasp, Auston grins and slips in two fingers. He sucks hard at her clit, making her breathing get heavier as he twists his fingers and sets a quick pace. Her thighs tighten around his face, trapping him against her heat as she writhes above him, pleasure building and building.

“Right there Aus,” she can barely get the words out.

Auston keeps doing what he has been, what he always did with her, but more importantly it’s what he knows she likes. He sucks harder and harder, thrusting his fingers in and out, until the coil snaps and his face is covered in her release. He holds Tia’s core against his face and works to messily clean the mess but doesn’t work too hard. What he has planned next is only going to make more.

When Tia ventured out of the shower and into the living room, she found Auston and Taylour on the floor. He was resting on one elbow with a tight grey t-shirt stretched tightly around his biceps and was rolling a toy transport truck back and forth over the hardwood floors. Tia smiles and cards her hand through Auston’s partially damp curls then falls to a heap on the floor between them.

“Hi Mommy!” Taylour smiles but keeps his head down, completely fascinated by the yellow plastic Camaro in his hand.

“Hi Taylour. How’d you sleep?”

“Good.” He passes the toy to Auston with a small, frustrated huff. “How do you do it Daddy?”

Auston accepts the toy and starts twisting and pulling on the plastic, a few pieces turn in circles and others snap inside, with every move Taylour’s eyes get wider and wider until the transformation is complete.

“There you go.”

“It’s a transformer Mommy!” He beams, taking the now robot back from him. “What’s his name Daddy?”

“BumbleBee.”

“Bumblebee! Do this one now.” Taylour eagerly passes him the blue and red transport truck and watches in awe as he converts it into Optimus Prime. “So cool!”

Taylour scrambles to his feet and starts to run. With one toy in each hand, he spreads his arms out wide and blows air out of his mouth, pretending to fly them around the room. Auston brushes Tia’s hair behind her shoulder and presses his lips to her cheek. She smiles and leans into his touch, watching Taylour jump on the couch from cushion to cushion. “This is perfect,” he hums against her, earning a gentle sigh because it really is.

“Hey, Optimus Prime,” Tia finally calls out after a minute. “What do you want for breakfast?”

Taylour giggles and bounces between the cushions a few more times before launching himself into the air. He lands and runs over to Tia and wraps his arms around her neck and the plastic brushes against her back, then whispers, very loudly, “pancakes.”

“Does Daddy have pancakes?” She eyes over to Auston who has a wide smile pressed to his face – he always loved seeing her be a mom - and nods. “Okay. Pancakes it is.”

Tia gets up and moves to the kitchen. She opens the fridge and pulls out the butter, milk, and eggs, then opens a couple cupboards until she finds a mixing bowl, measuring cups and whisk. She opens the pantry and starts to scan the shelves, searching for the remaining ingredients when Auston’s thick tattoo covered arm comes into view and he pulls out a box. Tia rolls her eyes; she should have known he’d have instant pancake mix.

“So.” Tia turns around in his arms, and he immediately presses his lips to hers. Tia sighs into the kiss and feels his tongue start to work its way into her mouth. It’s soft, slow, the kind of lazy morning kisses that Auston will be craving every day. “What are the odds you can get two tickets for tonight?”

Auston laughs, almost condescendingly, but his smile is genuine. “Pretty good.”

“Good.” Tia rises to her tippy toes and brings her lips close to his. Just as he is about to lean in, she ducks away and snatches the box from his grasp and tosses it in the garbage. “Our son deserves more than instant pancakes.”

“I’m busy with hockey, I don’t have time to make pancakes from scratch.”

“Oh right, and the student with an 87% average, part time job that recently launched their own fashion line isn’t busy.”

“I didn’t say that,” Auston tries to backpedal while grinning at her playful teasing.

“Yet, I make pancakes from scratch.”

“And that’s why he constantly says that’s not how mommy does it when I cook anything.”

Tia winks and pulls the flour out of the pantry and shuts the doors before ushering him out of the kitchen.

It took Tia a little bit longer than normal to make the pancakes. She kept getting distracted by Taylour’s laughter, Auston’s laughter, Taylour’s smile, Auston’s boyish grin and soft winks, Taylour calling “Mommy look” as Auston had him upside down over his shoulders before playfully slamming him against the couch. She always knew Auston would be an amazing dad, she had witnessed it for the past fourteen months, but seeing the two important boys in her life interacting that way made her feel so many things all at once. She would have been happy to just stand there and watch the two pieces of her world play and love each other, for their laughs to be the only sounds she’d hear, but then she remembered everything that had to be done and returned to making breakfast.

Taylour’s pancakes had two blueberries for eyes and sliced some strawberries placed on top for lips. It’s something Auston noticed she had been doing for a while, cutting his food into hearts, or festive shapes at the holidays, it’s something so small, but it only made him love her more. With that being said, he wasn’t going to lie and say he was a little disappointed his fruit came on the side in a small bowl, but he also wasn’t going to complain.

“Thank you, Mommy.” Taylour takes a piece of pancake and dips it in the syrup, the only way he will eat his pancakes, then shoves it in his mouth. “It’s so good.”

“You’re welcome.” Using the pad of her thumb, Tia wipes some syrup off Taylour’s cheek. “I’m going to get ready for work.”

Tia took her time getting ready, more than she normally would. Most days she wore very little makeup which consisted generally consisted with concealer, a little blush and mascara, her hair would be pulled into a high pony or left down and framing her face. She of course has every product imaginable; it was basically a requirement for nights at the club, but since then it tended to live in a drawer. This particular morning she was feeling a little spicy, and a part of her wanted to drive Auston wild as he spent the entire day thinking of touching her.

She succeeded in her mission.

He felt his cock twitch and she watched his Adam’s apple bob when she found him in the kitchen cleaning breakfast. She had on a tight black ribbed turtleneck tucked into her fitted blue jeans with a channel belt wrapped around her waist. Every part of her, hips, breasts, ass were perfectly accentuated. It was if it had been tailored to her body (they had been). Her hair was curled into loose beachy waves and the sun hit the bronzer on her cheekbones, but what really caught his eye was the simple gold necklace that dangled from her neck, the coffee cup charm and 34 resting between her breasts. Seeing it brought a smile to his face - she wasn’t wearing it earlier.

“Wow.” Auston leaves the dishcloth on the counter and pulls Tia in, caging her in. “You look amazing.”

“Our son is twenty feet away.” Tia moans when Auston’s lips hit her jaw.

“He’s busy.” Auston murmurs against her skin and lets his hands find her waist, hooking his thumbs through her belt loops. With another kiss, this one to her lips, he pulls back with one of his signature smirks plastered to his face. “Got tickets for you guys tonight.”

“That was fast.”

“I know a guy.”

“Are you the guy?”

He grins and proudly nods. “Yeah, I’m the guy.”

Auston is about to lean in again when his phone chimes, not once, not twice but three times. Tia’s arms wrap around his lower back, and she rests her face against his chest, listening to the rhythmic thumping of his heart. That always was her spot.

With one hand still on her hip to keep her close, Auston reaches into his pant pocket and pulls out his iPhone. He was expecting messages from Fred, checking in after yesterday, Mitch with some ridiculous video he came across, maybe even something in the team chat prior to their morning skate. He didn’t really give it a second thought and mindlessly opened his messages, not even acknowledging the name until it was too late.

Tia’s stomach drops. Auston’s back stiffens.

Corrie.

And not just with text messages, but a very revealing photo to accompany them.

“She’s just a friend.” Auston quickly stutters out, then winces, they both know the term “friend” is being used loosely. “She was supposed to visit me in LA on the road trip in a couple days. I cancelled.” Auston quickly fumbles out then scrolls up to the text he sent shortly after he found Tia in his closet.

“Yeah.” She speaks softly, and forces herself out or his embrace, no longer feeling safe in what was once home. “I got to go to work.”

“Tia –“

“I’m going to be late.” Auston can feel the way her voice breaks.

“I can drive you.”

“No, it’s okay,” she rushes out, her voice full of hurt. “It’s not near his daycare.”

Auston knew he shouldn’t have let her walk away. Dropping her at work would have added an extra ten minutes to his day, and he would have driven an extra hour if it meant time together to talk this out.

Just like Auston, Tia knew she shouldn’t have left things the way they were. She knew she overreacted, it was just a text, and he did cancel her trip, but it didn’t hurt any less. It felt somewhat reminiscent of one year prior when they slept together and she found of Auston had left things somewhat open with Claire. It brought her back to her relationship with Thomas where he constantly told her “Melissa’s just a friend” only to find out they were much more than that.

She knew she was spiralling and a simple phone call would help calm her down, but Auston was at hockey, and this didn’t seem like the kind of thing that should be talked about over the phone.

To make matters worse, the store was quiet. Very few customers had come through, and two of them were “just looking” and left in under five minutes, giving her all the time in the world to think it over. She dusted all the shelves, unpacked some of the new shipments and found the items a home on the shelves and racks. She windexed the mirrors, stripped the mannequins then put some of the new items on display, and still had two hours left in her shift. She couldn’t think of what to do to occupy that time, then the chime of the door snaps her out of the trance, and a familiar face brings a smile to hers.

“Hey,” Abby walks in with two coffees and sets one down beside the cash register. “I know you work most Saturdays.”

“Thanks,” Tia quickly gives Abby a hug and lets out a deep breath, one she had been holding onto for hours.

“I haven’t heard from you in a couple days.” Abby probes, smirking over her cup.

“I’ve been,” Tia clicks her tongue and quirks an eyebrow. “Busy.”

“Good busy or bad busy?”

Tia takes a sip, then eyes over her cup to her friend. “Both.”

“Start with the good busy.”

Tia shakes her head and lets out a light laugh. She takes another sip then starts by telling Abby what happened after their phone call, that horrible night where all she did was cry. The following morning with the couples therapy session that was followed up with an afternoon of sex, an evening spent as a family, followed by a night and morning of sex. She told Abby how they talked through some of their issues in therapy, about the honesty and vulnerability they shared, along with the multiple orgasms. She could tell Abby was thrilled to see her friend finally getting the ending she wanted.

Abby paid attention, not just to what Tia was saying it but how she said it. She noticed the heat that would slowly fight its way through to her cheeks before she’d trail off, almost as if she was lost in the memory of him. Her voice peaked and a smile spread as Tia told Abby about how she is his girlfriend, and Abby swore she heard the flutter in her heart when Tia talked about the way he kissed her, not the one where she was pressed up against his door, but the gentle ones he’d place in her hairline as they all cuddled up together watching a movie.

“This all sounds good.” Abby’s face twists in confusion, noticeably puzzled as to what could have happened for her friend to be this upset given what happened. “How’d you screw it up?”

Tia doesn’t even try to fight the backhanded remark because it’s partially true. “He got a text from a girl he’s been dating or hooking up with, I don’t really know what she is to him, but she text him this morning.”

“What did the text say?”

“How she was looking forward to seeing him in California next week and was sorry that he had to cancel and hopes to see him soon.” Tia leaves out the picture. Just because the image of a stunning blonde wearing black lacey underwear and tight white crop top is etched in her brain, doesn’t mean it needs to be in her friends as well.

“He cancelled?” Tia nods and Abby continues . “After you two had sex?”

“Before.” Tia clarifies. “The day before. We hadn’t even gone to therapy when he cancelled.”

“You know why he cancelled her trip right?”

“Yes, I do,” Tia lets out a loud and frustrated groan. “He wants to give this a try, me and him. And yes, I know I am overreacting, and I shouldn’t be upset, but I am.”

“You’re allowed to be upset.” Tia drops her gaze and runs her hands down through her curls, then lets out a heavy sigh. “Not upset at him but upset at the situation.”

“I knew he was sleeping around, there was that girl I met at his door, the girl at the party, this seems different though… flying someone out…it seems…serious.”

“Maybe it was, but he cancelled.”

“But that would mean he has feelings for her, I don’t want to get in the middle –“

“Did you ask if he has feelings for her?” Abby quickly butts in when she notices Tia anxiously picking at the paper cup, one of her nervous ticks.

Tia sighs and lets her head fall. “No. I didn’t give him the chance to talk, I just left.”

“Tia,” Abby scolds.

“How can he fly a girl to visit him and have it mean nothing?”

“You had guys at the club offer to take you on trips.”

“They weren’t serious offers.” Tia laughs.

“Tamara literally just got back from Miami with Monday Night Dave.”

Tia’s eyes go wide. Monday Night Dave was a regular who was there every Monday and tended to spend his time with Tia. They always went to a private booth, and he’d pay for a minimum of six songs (ten was the usual number) always give Tia at least a $150 tip. Tia would dance for him and take her top off, and he was one of the few she’d let him put his hands on her hips but only because he’d wait until she said so. He’d spend most of the time complaining about his soon-to-be ex-wife and how he was happy to no longer be with her. He constantly mentioned his cottage in the Muskoka’s, his place in Miami and another in Cabo, subtly hinting for her to join. Of course, Tia would flirt back, ask a million questions, do anything to seem interested and increase her tip without agreeing. If she’s being honest, she didn’t believe Dave had the homes and never thought it was a serious offer. Clearly, she was wrong.

“Dave flew her down, private, they were there for 4 days at this luxury condo, and he paid for everything. Food, drinks, took her shopping. If guys like Monday night Dave are willing to do all that for just sex, I’m sure Auston can too.”

Tia takes a second to consider what Abby told her. While Tamara and Monday Night Dave were just a transaction for sex, she knows Auston isn’t the type to pay for it. If he is flying a girl to another city, it must mean more.

“Isn’t there girls in LA though?” Tia asks.

“You’re so naïve,” Abby laughs at her. “Just talk to him, let him explain. Regardless of the circumstances of the visit, you owe him that much.”

Tia spent the next two hours nervously bouncing on her heels. She didn’t quite know what to make of her conversation with Abby. Was she implying that it was just sex, that this girl was an escort, or there are feelings between them? Is there more than one girl? If so, how many and what’s the relationship between them? If one or more of them is an escort, does she want to get involved with him? The mark from her last scandal has barely begun to heal.

When she opened the door to her apartment it was quiet, all the lights were off. She flicked on the one in the hallway and Taylour, like he always did, had already kicked his winter boots harshly against the wall and dropped his coat in a pile on the floor. She grumbled a little under her breath, mostly because she has been trying to teach him to pick up after himself, but before she has a chance to call him back over to clean up his belongings, he is gone. Actually gone. Tia goes to poke her head in his room to see if he snuck in there for some toys but it’s not long before she hears his soft laughter coming from her bedroom.

“Tay?”

“Your hair went everywhere.” As much anxiety as she felt throughout the day, dread over the potential hurt that may come from their looming conversation, the second Tia heard Auston’s voice she knew everything was going to be okay. He always had a calming presence.

She pushed open the door and sees Taylour sitting on her bed and Auston tucked under the duvet, listening intently while Taylour tells him of his day at the Science Centre.

“Mhm, Mrs. D sent mommy a picture.” Taylour quickly turns to Tia. “Show Daddy the picture.”

They both laugh, and Tia unlocks her phone and shows him the picture and videos of Taylour touching the electric ball with his hair sticking upright. “Wow!” Auston muses. “Looks like you had fun.”

“So much fun!” Taylour giggles cutely. “Can I have a snack Mommy?”

“Yeah, come on.”

Tia took Taylour back out to the living room and grabbed him a yogurt tube and cheese string. She set a plastic cup with orange juice on the coffee table, turned on the TV and started Moana for him, then ventured back to her room where Auston was waiting. He smiled when he saw her and lifted the duvet to welcome her in.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, crawling to be close to him.

His arm wraps around her back and he tugs her closer, wanting to eliminate as much space as possible. “I didn’t want to wait to talk.”

“Good.” Tia places a hand on his cheek, and he jumps at the cold touch of her fingers.

“I’m sorry –“ they both say at the same time and laugh lightly.

“You don’t have to apologize, I completely overreacted.”

“It shouldn’t have taken a text message to tell you about them.”

Them. Tia’s brows furrow following that word. She takes a gulp, trying to push everything down, then speaks. “We weren’t dating, you were allowed to see whoever you wanted, whenever you wanted.”

“But?” He prompts. While Auston can feel the sincerity in her words, he can also tell there is something she isn’t saying.

“I don’t want to come between you and her, if –“

“Baby.” Auston kisses her right away. “You’re not.”

“You were flying her out to visit you.” Even through her small smile Auston can see the hurt she is trying to disguise.

“I swear to you Tia it was nothing.”

“You were flying her out,” Tia stresses. She doesn’t want to get hung up on that, but it seems to be a large detail he is overlooking. “You don’t do that for just sex.”

Auston’s head falls and he lets out all the air in his lungs. Following a deep inhale, he brings his gaze back and she can see all the worry he has been harbouring. “Women talk.” Tia lets out a laugh, not at what he is saying but the way he is saying it, as if this is new information to him. “Like a lot. Everything I do ends up on gossip sites, in the comments or tags of my Instagram, the team has talked to me on more than one occasion. It became easier to find a few women who are discreet and only interested in sex than dealing with everything else. Corrie is that kind of person. I was flying her out because I hadn’t seen her in months, I was worried she may not be around come summer, didn’t want to be alone. Don’t have to worry about that anymore.” Auston smiles and gently tucks some of her hair behind her ear.

Tia nods and takes a second to think over everything he said. A part of her gets it. After the article a spotlight shone on her, unwanted attention from fans or those claiming to be her friend, it was more than she ever expected to handle in her lifetime, and she was barely able to handle it. She can’t imagine that kind of scrutiny following her very move, maybe what he’s saying holds some merit.

“You sure? Because if it was more and you want to keep exploring things with them and me, I,” she chokes on her words, “I’d be okay with that….keeping your options open.”

“I don’t want options, I want you, only you.”

When those words come out so does all the stress she had been holding onto all day. Her heart starts to settle and for the first time in hours she is at ease. “Good.” Tia grins. “I don’t think I’d actually be okay with it.”

“I know,” Auston grins back, dimples fully on display. “It’s all over.” He slips his hand under a pillow and pulls out his phone, he unlocks it and opens the messaging app. He sent one to Corrie, one to Olivia and another to Michelle. He kept it brief, but truthful, letting them all know he and Tia were back together and everything between them was over. “I should have done it sooner,” he says turning the phone around for her. Tia grabs the device and tosses it behind her, she doesn’t need proof, she trusts him. “I was a little…distracted.”

Heat creeps beneath the skin of Tia’s cheeks and Auston grins again. He loves that after everything he still has this affect on her. “I would have been pretty upset if you stopped what we were doing to message another girl.”

Auston lets out another laugh, absolutely nothing could have pulled him from her last night. As much as he wants to kiss her and put this in the past forever, he knows that isn’t what’s best for their future. “Do you have any questions?”

“Uh…I…” she stammers out and clears her throat, taking a second to gather herself as best she can. “How many?”

Auston clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably. Of course, he wants full transparency, he just didn’t think this is what they’d start with. “Like total? Or just right now?”

She scrunches up a face and shakes her head. She doesn’t know whose question was worse. “Never mind.”

“No babe, I’ll tell you anything. But if I’m being honest, I’m not entirely sure.”

“My boyfriend, the slut.” Tia jokes, drawing a slight grin to her face.

“I was in a rough place the first year after Zurich, and the second year…really the entire time. I didn’t have to try to get someone in my bed, so I didn’t. I only wanted to ease the pain.”

“I get that.” Tia genuinely sympathizes. “If I didn’t have Taylour, I would have done the same.”

“Claire was the one and only girl I dated.” Auston laughs when Tia crinkles her nose at the name. “Since then, I have dated nobody, I had a few friends, even more one-night stands, I used protection with all of them. It was never going to be anything more than sex, my hearts always been with someone else.”

Those words hang in the air for a second, its as if they both wait to see if the other takes the bait, to be the first one to say those words. Because, even though they have said it countless times over the past few months, they both know the next time they say it will hold more weight than anytime before.

“You have to burn your sheets.”

Auston laughs and the butterflies in her stomach start fluttering once again.

“I’ll leave you my credit card and you can buy all the sheets you want while I’m in LA.”

One of his hands starts to venture down to the small of her back and his mustache tickles her upper lip seconds before his lips are crashing onto hers.

The kiss is slow and gentle, nobody fighting for control, just two people relishing in the others touch, soft sighs and sweet moans flooding the air. She scratches her nails through the scruff on his jaw and their tongues work in unison. Auston rolls Tia onto her back, and she pulls him on top, the kiss gradually becoming hungrier and heavier. Her hand slips under the hem of his shirt and his works to tug her turtleneck free, creating enough space to slip underneath. Almost instantly he grabs at the fabric of her bra then starts kneading and rolling her nipple.

He can feel himself slowly starting to harden, his boxers tenting up, then Taylour’s joyful laughter erupts from the living room and his forehead falls against hers, both of them releasing an awkward laugh.

“Used to have to hide it from our parents, now we have to find a way to hide from him.” Tia removes her hand.

“Yeah.” Auston takes a second, then his eyes light up. “Come with me.”

He fumbles out of the bed and opens her bedside drawer, he pulls out a condom and drags her to the bathroom, giggling the entire time like he used to at eighteen.

“What are you doing?” Tia whispers as Auston closes the door and locks it. “What if he needs us.”

“He has a snack and a movie; I think we’re good for ten minutes,” Auston responds.

Auston spins her so her back is flush to his chest. She can feel his erection pressing into her back as he pops the button of her jeans open, then uses the space to slip his hand inside. He teases over her core, a featherlight touch brushing over her pussy lips.

“You have a game tonight.”

Her eyes roll shut as two fingers slip between her lips and his thumb begins massaging her sensitive bud.

“And if I play good.” His fingers thrust up and his teeth nip at her neck. “This can be our new game day tradition.”

“What are you waiting for then?”

Auston’s thrusts his fingers in and out a few times, each time becoming harder and deeper than before. Following a sharp gasp, he slips his hand out from her pants and she shimmies them down past her knees, underwear not far behind. Auston pushes his boxers down to free his cock and after a few strokes, he uses his teeth to tear the condom open. He rolls it over his length and kicks Tia’s legs apart, teasing at her entrance.

He enters her in one swift movement and they both moan when he buried himself inside. A feeling they used to know all to well yet spent so long missing. Tia reaches out for the counter for stability as Auston thrusts back inside.

“You always did look good with my cock inside ya,” Auston grunts, anchoring his nails into her hips. He needs to keep her close.

“You always felt good inside me,” Tia moans.

The sound of slapping skin fills the room as the air becomes hot, sweaty. He sloppily licks along her neck, sucking and nipping, not even slightly concerned about marks. He knows she can cover them up.

Auston sets a steady pace and brings one hand around to her front to apply pressure to her already throbbing clit. He can feel her leaning into the counter, her legs becoming weak as pleasure builds from deep within. Auston wraps a hand around her throat but doesn’t squeeze, just uses it to keep her leaning against him.

Tia can feel her orgasm starting to build, and her eyes roll back into her skull. She wants to keep them open; she really does, she knows how much he loves watching her fall apart, but more importantly, how much he loved when she’d watch herself, but it’s all becoming too much. Auston found the spot like he always did, and every time he drags his cock in and out, he brushes up against it.

“T,” Auston sucks on her ear lobe and thrusts again. Its deep and hard, and if not for his hand around her neck she surely would have stumbled forward. “You gotta watch, it’s the best part.”

Auston continues to move in and out, pressing his hips against her ass, gently squeezing at her throat to remind her to open her eyes and swirling his thumb over her clit. When her head lands on his shoulder and her eyes open, a layer of tears is coating them. A few more thrusts and the edges of her vision blur. A few more and her orgasm hits drawing a slew of whimpers spill from her lips. Auston continues rubbing her clit, milking her orgasm for all its worth before he spills everything he has in the condom.

The two of them stop and his hand drops from her neck. Their breathing is uneven and sweat clings to his forehead. After a minute Auston brings his hand around and connects it to her ass, grinning as she yelps. “This should definitely be a part of my pre-game ritual.” Auston hums against her neck. “Shower?”

“I’m going to go check on our son.”

“Tell him there is a present on his bed.” Auston gives Tia’s ass another slap while winking at her in the mirror.

“You’re something else,” Tia shakes her head.

“His other jersey was getting too small.”

Taglist: If you are in this list you have expressed interest in the series (either through likes/reblogs or by asking). If it’s crossed out your tag didn’t work. If you would like to be removed or added to the list send me an ask:

@youtxbemusic @nicoleloveshockey @emsully2002 @hockeypuckspottspot @ashleymarine @albal321 @b34ut1fulb4st4rds @biznastysloneshift12 @burkylover @c-tangerine @canadian-girl87 @crazzyfann @dana-hqy @delighttfulll @evawest5 @every-beautifulthing-thereis @greendragonzz @heatherawoowoo @hockeybabe87 @hockeyinaussie @hockeyisit @hockeypuckedmeup @je-ne-regrette-rien @jakekisska @partypoison00 @princesscameston @puccbunni @queenmarvel21 @sixmapleleafs @starswin @trashforbarzal @0kikina0 @1-fuzzy-squirrels @janeydeaux @stuff4me2do @callsign-denmark @monnbc @simpgirl-lat @huneyjojo221 @idfan21 @elly-dx @samanthasgone @holyalfalfasprout @lwstuff

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zeroaccord · 5 months ago

Text

ANALYZING A SONG (Sakuran) AND HOW IT WORKS REALLY WELL FOR SHERATAN, ANSHI, AND MIRA

Sheratan is not owned by me but is made by @voruna-warframe. regardless, she's still important to anshi's and mira's story by being her partner and the main reason why the events happen in the story.

Lore info for sheratan:

"For what I have for her, she's stuck in a time loop (I made this based on what I thought what Duviri's spirals were when they announced how Duviri works) and she's aware of all the deaths and whatever else she's been through, I was thinking it could be linked to something about Eternalism. Since her exposure to the void, she has more animalistic features. She has beast-esque hands/forearms due to using her void powers the scars spread kinda like how it does on the Zariman, and the void also spread from whatever injuries she got from the void jump. The horns and pointed ears are also from the void, but I haven't really come up with a reason why yet asides from "lol void shenanigans""

With this in mind, I want to add a little context regarding her character before I talk about the song.

Sheratan's timeloops begin and end with death, so upon her dying it all resets. Sheratan uses this to advantage to find a good timeline where she's happy, the people she loves is happy, and she doesn't have to worry about fighting. The only issue is with this, is how years and years of yearning took that naive hope of happiness and turned it into a desperate obsession just to be with her partners. (think homura from Madoka Magica) She's quick to turn to self-destructive habits the moment a timeline fails for a while before hopping again.

With that being said....

THE SONG

youtube

HEAVY TW for mentions of death, obsession, manipulation, substance abuse, and coping with loss. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

Info under the cut!

"I clutch my past with a patient gaze To protect mythical stories of lies"

Sheratan keeping to herself to prevent people from knowing what happened to her; she does not want people forming parasocial connections with her as some mythical hero.

"So distressing, Your voice has become so alien" "I want to mute it so badly"

Sheratan being unable to deal with having to slow burn the relationship with her anshi and Mira. They can't remember the last timeline they were in, So she can't act on what she's thinking, unlike past timelines that are further down the line.

"Listening closely for that fleeting sound" "A ghastly nightmare to curse my enemies"

could be Sheratan remembering mira's voice while fighting (aka, her singing or "fleeting sound") or it could be grieving mira, thinking about her voice and her grief is so strong it's 'a ghastly nightmare to curse her enemies'

"Those deceitful words will be devoted somewhere else"

A failed timeline where anshi/mira has left, meaning their words of love would be 'devoted somewhere else'

"No wonder there is no trace, For it has never existed"

Timeline hopping makes things restart to when Sheratan first wakes up from Lua. When she saves anshi and mira, she has to restart her relationship with them. Their time together 'has never existed'

"The night is audience to my tale" "And I long for tranquility in my dreams"

Failed or fresh timeline, Sheratan resorting to self-destructive ways to cope with her losses, causing her to stay out more at night and gamble @ the index or drink. She's dreaming of a timeline where she can finally be free from her curse and be with her family. Ideally, She does not want to fight anyone anymore.

""Today" that kindly chose to visit me," "Please don't go yet"

Sheratan is a. not literally talking about a day, but one of her partners that she was able to get back in that timeline. She's begging for them not to leave her alone. Or b. She's relishing in a timeline where it's the most ideal, She's finally with them and it's been a little bit. Maybe out of the blue, that little nagging feeling of being alone again bites at her.

"Torn away from my future"

Being forced to kill herself/her dying and resetting/etc in a good timeline

"Compromised with the harshened love"

Scared and afraid of her partners leaving her, after her attempts of making them stay only drives them away. She would likely resort to more upsetting ways to make them stay, even if it means hurting them in some way. These timelines most of the time always end in sheratan killing herself out of guilt for that timelines anshi/mira.

"I tremble in awe of immutable time"

What it says on the tin. Even if she can timeline hop via killing herself - she still is afraid of time.

"The dawn precedes the day, Without heed for my sigh"

Her general tiredness of having to loop. She just wants a timeline where her family can be safe without her having to manipulate things.

"Just like a lukewarm juice" "I resist that bland warmth"

She refuses to give up, even if it'd be the most healthy thing she could ever do for herself and for them. She refuses to even think about them without her in the image - so much as shutting down anyone - including her partners that reject to her timeline hopping.

"Before I knew, It became stagnant under the sun"

Sheratan feeling justified in timeline hopping by small things that ultimately don't mean anything. Feeling that stopping now would make her efforts for nothing, even if it's impossible to find a timeline where her family and herself can be happy.

"Vivid scenes fade into distant memories"

Happy memories she's across timelines start to fade until they're all gone.

"I can't muster a smile facing that thrilling night"

(note: a more accurate translation would be "I just can't laugh, I tremble in the night")

She's physically unable to really smile from her face having years and years of damage on it. But what makes her unable to actually smile? The sheer amount of pain in her heart at all times.

(regarding the more accurate translation - the part with "I tremble in the night" would just be about her serious, deep depression about every single thing. Every mistake in every timeline causes her to squirm in her bed.)

"Though I still drag my lethargy behind myself"

Forcing herself to continue despite her pain. She's tired and breaks down at almost everything, forcing herself under a 'I have to do this even if i can't take it anymore' mindset

"The 'today' that granted me mercy, I beg you," "Please don't abandon me"

Same point from the line ""Today" that kindly chose to visit me," "Please don't go yet""

She's talking about a person or an actual frame of time. With it being an actual person, She views their love for her as undeserving in good timelines. She's scared of them leaving her at any point of time, for any reason. She even goes as far as to get on her knees and while crying to beg them not to leave.

With the frame of time / day, She overthinks the amount of good and bad times she has. She thinks when she's having mostly good moments or bland ones as a kindness when she's able to be alone with them. Being able to be around them and love them is a 'kindness' for her pain. The thought of its kindness abandoning her scares her.

"Humming a soft and cunning tone"

Singing the song that mira sings to give herself comfort.

"With an identical look to a cold corpse"

She sucks at masking her pain's effect on her body overtime, neglecting herself to rush and get them home safe.

"I kick away that whole lot of discomfort so hard"

Again, she fails to mask her pain. She doesn't see herself as the same as her partners. Any shown sign that there is something wrong is replaced with a cold, fake reaction.

"'I'm not a handful' I laughed and I laughed mirthlessly"

With some of the same points above, she views her partners on another level. She can't believe them when they say she's not a handful. To her, She hates herself for what she does.

(These parts get kind of repeated. I'll still repeat them. Just refer to the above points)

(Repeated) "Torn away from my future" "Compromised with the hardened love" "I tremble in awe of immutable time"

"Ignoring my lament, the sight of dawn foresees another day"

This is two things

She's forcing herself to continue until she eventually dies and loops again in a doomed timeline. The sight of dawn foresees another day since even if she's killed herself before, she's still afraid of dying. There's still that voice in her head that tells her 'just stop here'

She still presses on looping. She ignores her 'lament' in her grief and forces herself to continue yearning for them even more.

#yareli rambles #oc #warframe #tennocreate #warframe operator #anshi #sheratan #mira #written #writing #analysis #song analysis #warframe drifter #maretu #Youtube

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