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pearlywritings · 11 months ago

Text

A slip of the tongue

synopsis: as smart as Alhaitham is, sometimes he blurts out things without thinking twice. It's good, however, that your husband knows when an apology is due, even though it doesn't mean you (and your friend) won't come up with something to pay him back with~

pairing and characters: Alhaitham x fem!reader

tw: established relationship (marriage), little hurt/instant comfort, a bit suggestive, Kaveh is lowkey couple's marriage counselor

word count: 3.7k+ words

a/n: wow, finally releasing this one out of the basement!

Here is the second part btw

Your cheek starts hurting from how long the knuckles of your fist have been digging into it. Fingertips drum on your knee, as legs stay crossed and stare fixed on the figure before you, sitting on the chair across the table and not taking the eyes off of the book pages. The most infuriating part of it? The figure is talking.

"...and so you should be prepared for Rajkumar's endless questions. He might not have any relation to Haravatat or languages at all, but he has a bone to pick with me, so being my wife puts you in a position to attack. And you know how annoying it is to converse with an idiot."

Yeah, probably as much as hearing what you are already aware of. You love your husband, you truly do, but sometimes the urge to smack the back of his head and tell him to shut up is too tempting.

All you said was that you were a little nervous and mentioned that tomorrow is indeed one of the most important days for you. After all, you are going to defend your second thesis, one you spent years to complete and pass all sorts of verification, reviews and censorship. Having the Scribe as your husband had both its perks and drawbacks in the process - he could easily push your work forward to the necessary people in charge of all the mentioned above stages of approbation, but then the fact he was your spouse put a label on you for those who were aware, and it said “Needs to be examined more thoroughly”. Though come to think of it, it’s pretty illogical.

Fortunately you never had troubles with that - after all your brain was in place, and both topics of your first and now current papers were innovative. Moreso, many of your Haravatat professors agree on your academic success and some of them expressed their hope to see you in the role of their colleague in the future.

But it’s for the future. First you need to become the Dastur, and for that you need to defend your thesis in the present. You have absolutely everything ready, no one knows your topic better than you are (maybe only Alhaitham can come close, since he read and reread it multiple times, helping with editing and providing impartial perspective), and years at the Akademyia taught you how to withstand the piercing eyes and prickling words of the jury. You will be fine.

Or you thought so, before just one phrase of yours started this whole exchange that is now happening in your kitchen.

“...and remember the part in the third chapter we discussed with you. This will be the one they’ll claw at, since it’s a turning point in a whole theory and I heard some of them already criticizing it,” the male hums, turning another page, eyes scanning the words written on a yellowed from time piece of paper. This seems the last comment of his, as he falls silent, reaching for the cup of coffee you’ve made him - in the process of which you were short-sighted to voice your concern.

When a minute passes and you do not answer anyhow to any of the valuable advice he’s just given you, Alhaitham lowers his book and stares at you. You keep drumming your fingers on your knee, eyes boring into him and almost unblinking, and it’s not hard for such an observant man to notice a barely-veiled displeasure in your tired eyes and a scowl.

"You know you could've just said you are worried about tomorrow too, and leave it at that?"

Alhaitham blinks, hand frozen in the middle of lowering the mug back on the table. He is holding your gaze and you can practically see the thoughts running through his mind, he is clearly contemplating how to answer your bold statement.

“Why would I be worried?” He finally answers with a question on your own, putting the mug on the flat surface. “It’s just a thesis defense, and if you get rid of your nervousness you’ll see that you already have the Dastur title in your pocket. Tomorrow is just a formality for you.”

“So you are not coming to watch me tomorrow?” Your scowl and frown deepens, fingers stopping abusing your knee and curling in a fist instead. Your husband sighs, marking the page with a bookmark you’ve made for him and closing the volume he’s been on for the past week. Then his captivating eyes are back on you.

“Scribe isn’t required to attend. Besides-”

“Yeah, yeah, you know my work enough to not hear anything new in my presentation,” you interrupt him and he can clearly hear rising anger in your voice that wasn’t there before. It actually manages to shut him up. “As my husband, as my support, are you going to come?”

The man feels a twinge of guilt in his heart. He always prided himself of his intelligence and attentiveness, yet just now he failed to assume what exactly you expected of his presence. Of course he’d want to give you a peace of mind by being there, but it seems he is too used to uttering the same phrase every single time someone asks him to come, that it was out faster than he had a moment to think it over properly.

He sees a bit too late how your face drops when he doesn’t give you an answer immediately - it looks like his pause appeared to be hesitance to you. He slightly panics when you lower your gaze and move to uncross your legs to stand up, having an almost iron grip on the back of the chair.

“Wait- Dear, I will come,” at that your eyes flicker at him, with doubt on display in your beautiful orbs. “I promise, I’ll be there.”

“I thought you didn’t like to be around idiots the whole day,” you huff, crossing your arms, reminding him of how unflattering his words towards some of his colleagues were. You do not mean to act childish, but tomorrow is really important to you, and obviously you’d want to have your husband be there to share it with you.

Alhaitham puts the book aside and stands up as well, rounding the table and coming closer to you. His fingers deftly touch your elbow, and you will yourself not to jerk it, some annoyance still bubbling in your system.

“That is correct. However, you are not one of them,” he murmurs, caressing your arm. You huff again, but this time your posture is more relaxed. “Besides, all you need is to be confident, and if my presence can assure you that, then I’ll be more than happy to be there for you.”

You give him a long stare. Your drilling eyes to his bewitching ones, searching for the truth in the greenish depths, while he stands still, waiting patiently, expecting your verdict silently. It’s as your frown softens, he knows you’ve found what you’ve been looking for in this kind of staring contest.

“Oh Archons, Alhaitham…” You shake your head with a small smile and the man feels relief washing over him. You are no longer mad at him. At least, it seems so. That is definitely good. “We’ve been married for years and it still surprises me how you can be a jerk - affectionately - one moment, and a completely sweet guy another.”

“Maybe just as quick you are switching from fuming to forgiving,” his palms are warm as they slide up your arms, featherly resting on your shoulders. Your smile widens a little and you meet him in the middle when he leans to press his forehead to yours.

“Yeah, yeah… But to your credit you were quick to fix your attitude, and as long as it’s sincere, I am grateful.”

“It is sincere,” he says with emphasis. “You know I am not the one to change my mind lightly.

Or rather realizing when an apology is due.

You hum, content with his answer. Yet, a mischievous glint finds its place in your eyes.

“Even though you are forgiven, I am still complaining to Kaveh about the mean and heartless husband of mine.”

“Of course you are,” he rolls his eyes, but you know it’s playful. He knows it too, and the shift in the mood is apparent, and he is thankful for its course to the positive destination. “I guess it’s deserved.”

“Don’t worry, he won’t be glaring at you murderously. Much.”

Alhaitham only sighs at your giggles. He could care less of what the blond architect would say about him, so he’ll survive some annoyed buzzing from the senior, and if the little exchange which is about to occur makes you happy - he doesn’t mind. Plus it will be good for you to take your mind off of tomorrow.

“I’ll trust you on that,” he finally says, slowly leaning back. You smile, patting the back of his hand still resting on your shoulder in reassurance. With a promise to collect you from your ‘girlish talk’ (you swat his shoulder at that) in a couple of hours, your husband helps you to make a new pot of tea. It’s quite ironic that this one is gonna be emptied while he’s the main focus of the conversation.

Minutes later, when you leave the kitchen with a tray, Alhaitham can faintly hear the knocks on the other end of the house, and the door opening not a minute later, the voice of the man you two have been housing for months coming clear and concerned. Kaveh remained your friend even when he and Alhaitham got in a horrible fight over their beliefs and you were partially the reason why the Haravatat graduate was convinced to let the blonde stay. Though loud, flamboyant and snarky, there is some perks of having him around - even if the architect always complains how he didn’t sign up to be a marriage counselor, he’s never let you or your husband be in a conflict for long (fortunately it happened really rarely), being your shoulder to tear up on or begrudgingly becoming an ear to be talked of by the other man and the foot that would kick Alhaitham into action or the hand that would gently nudge you in the right direction.

Or, just like tonight, simply be ‘your girl’ to chat with.

Alhaitham, as promised, lets you be for a couple of hours, meanwhile busying himself with his book. To outsiders this scene may appear weird and paint the Scribe in an awful light as a husband - but it is just like that with this man. And the strange dynamic the three of you have while staying under one roof: a wife, a husband and their… loquacious canary-like-therapist.

Only when it’s close to the time you usually go to sleep, does he also end up before the door of Kaveh’s temporary room, and firmly knocks three times.

“What?” Unsurprisingly it's the blonde’s voice, and by the tone of it he is pissed. The ash-haired male chooses to ignore him.

“Darling, let’s go to bed,” he calls for you softly.

Alhaitham hears shuffling and muffled curses the architect surely prepared for him and some short, but incomprehensible conversation happening between you two. Not a moment later though, the door opens revealing your face, and your husband can’t help but feel extra weight lifted off his shoulders. No line reappeared between your eyebrows, no pout and no distress is written on your face. Quite the contrary, when your eyes meet, you give him the same warm smile you graced him with back in the kitchen.

“Sure, let’s go. It’s quite late already and we need to wake up early tomorrow,” you hum, exiting the room. Through the gap Alhaitham spots Kaveh sitting over some blueprints with two mugs on the table and a chair placed on the opposite side of the fine piece of furniture. When the architect lifts his eyes to glare at him, the Scribe slams the door closed. To your bedroom you returned with arms linked.

The silence of your shared space is comforting and is only disturbed by your light steps and rustle of changed clothes. The Scribe glances at you every two minutes, still a tiny bit concerned about that animatic exchange you had back in the kitchen.

“You know I will come, right?” The man suddenly asks you, as you’re fluffing the pillows. Your eyes slightly widen for a brief moment, so quickly that he almost misses it, but then they soften again as you chuckle.

“Yes, I know, dear. Sorry I reacted the way I did initially. It seems I really was pent up after all.”

“I could tell. You looked like you could bite my head o- ow!” He gasps when you throw your pillow into his face, which he catches at the last second.

“Oh, shut it, or I might get mad again,” but there is no anger in your eyes, only hardly veiled mischief. He drops your weapon of choice back onto bed and raises his hands in defense.

“Okay, okay, point taken. Any way I can make it up to you?”

At that your eyes strangely glint, and the scholar can’t place his finger on what exactly feels off about it. But it does.

“Actually you can. I’d like you to wake me up when you do, and let me use the shower first.”

And that’s it? Well, odd, but not disturbingly odd. Surely you wouldn’t go as far as to play some pranks on him by mixing something in his shampoo - you are way too intelligent for that. Also not one for revenge.

“Of course. I will wake you when I do so myself, and let you use the bathroom first.”

Even if the mornings are not Alhaitham’s forte, he still opens his eyes disgustingly early, so sleeping for a bit more while you are at your morning routine sounds nice. Not as nice as doing it with you in his arms, but still quite nice.

“Thank you, dear. Now, if you are going to read-”

“Not tonight. You need sleep,” to that you smile warmly, crawling under the blankets, which he is quick to follow. You do not deny his embrace, and willingly scoot closer, extending an arm to put around his waist, as he does the same. Nor you turn away from a kiss he places on your forehead, pecking his chin in response.

“Good night, Alhaitham.”

“Good night, Y/n.”

True to his word, your husband pulls you out of the dreamland just moments later after exiting it himself. Cerulean eyes drink in your sleepy face contorting in displeasure, arms reaching over your head, and body arching in a morning stretch. He can’t help himself, leaning close and pressing a kiss just above the hem of your chemise, relishing the feeling of your heart thumping against his lips. You yawn, reaching a hand into his hair, but your breath hitches, when his mouth is suddenly on your throat, peppering it with soft pecks.

“Mmm… If you are trying to make up for yesterday you are a bit late,” your groggy voice is so adorable to the man. With you he tends to forget how to rationalize things. Yesterday was one of the times when his ‘Alhaitham for anyone else but his wife’ slipped into his interaction with you, the behavior he’s been trying for years to suppress when it comes to you. Now he knows he should’ve acted differently, and regrets his unique way of trying to give you reassurance. If only he-

“Are you overthinking again?”

Your question makes him emerge back to reality. Eyes meet, and his heart skips a beat when you smile at him. Archons, you are beautiful.

“You know I am joking? Yesterday was yesterday, and you are already making it up to me, right?”

Words can’t describe how much he loves you, and at this moment he feels like he’ll never be able to express it fully.

“Right. Shower is all yours. Also,” he leans in again, placing a kiss on the corner of your mouth, “good morning.”

Your smile gets wider and you wrap your arms around his frame to kiss his cheek.

“Morning, Haitham.”

With you gone to the shower, the man buries himself in your pillow, inhaling the lingering scent. Sometimes he thinks he doesn’t deserve you. Your husband is intelligent enough to evaluate his own deeds and behavior, so he knows he is far from perfect to be someone’s partner. Yet, here you are, loving and accepting all his flaws - not without some complaint, but you are trying.

He might come off as arrogant to some people, but in arguments with you, he can tell when it’s his fault and not blame you for giving him a cold shoulder and requesting some space. He might look like he doesn’t care, but he cares for you, for your well-being, for your likes and dislikes, for your opinion, carefully storing all this valuable information in his brain, to show how much you mean to him. He is aware he has a long road ahead of him to get rid of all of his annoying conversing habits, but he is willing to keep trying for you. He seems to not show gratitude to anyone, but he is so grateful that you remain by his side, going as far as telling him you are proud to be his wife.

He wants you to know that it’s mutual.

That being said, Alhaitham is a smart man, but when he himself exits the bathroom after his shower time, his brain is reduced to just one thought.

You are absolutely gorgeous.

His gaze is chained to your pretty fingers, rolling the long, dark green stocking up your left leg. His throat bobs, when the elastic hem of it snaps against your skin, squeezing the flesh of your thigh a little. Then you take the second one, elegantly lifting the other leg and repeating the taunting process, but this time he is here to watch it from the beginning to the very end.

You happily hum, observing your work, and, satisfied, get on your feet, adjusting the band of your panties a little. Archons, you are wearing a matching set of the richest green shade. Lace leaves little to imagination, as his eyes flicker up to your chest, noting the pretty, natural swell of it and the outline of your nipples, and then down, as you turn around and bend to grab the shirt from the bed, demonstrating to him your ass and thighs.

His hand almost reaches out to touch you, to get a hold of the round globe, to sink his lithe fingers in your flesh. After all, your husband is not above earthly pleasures.

But your voice snaps him out of it.

"My love, if you keep standing like this in the middle of the room with just a towel on and no intention to dress, you might be late for breakfast," you chide him not even turning around and throw on the shirt, hiding the bra and some of the lower half, yet still leaving a bit of an appetizing view for an eye.

Alhaitham wills himself to tear the almost burning gaze away from you and redirect it to his own clothes, already prepared and neatly hanging on a chair. You mischievously smile as he takes a step to move past your figure. He's kept alarmingly silent and you are dying to know what reaction he has for your little plan.

The man has just a second to react when you abruptly turn around and stumble into him. Big palms instantly grab your hips to steady you against his chest, and the heart quickens at the feeling of soft lace under his fingertips, peeking from beneath the hem of the shirt he accidentally crumpled in the process. Your hands on his chest are so warm, put out just in time to catch yourself, and Alhaitham finds himself thinking of how would've it felt if your chests collided - maybe the thin material of the only layer of clothes you have on paired with some flimsy bra would not make any difference from direct skin to skin contact?

"Ah, sorry, 'haithy," you sheepishly smile up at him, eyes soft and staring innocently, "Are you alright? I haven't heard you speak ever since you left for the shower…"

Archons, please, don't let his voice betray him.

"I'm," he quickly clears his throat, "alright. Was just about to start dressing."

You hum, pushing onto his pectorals to move away and continue with your own - though slightly changed - routine, but strong fingers flex, keeping you in place by the sheer hold on your hips. You look at him inquiringly, ignoring how the very tips of his thumbs just barely slip under the thin material of your panties to caress your hip bones. It's almost an absentminded action.

"What's with this lingerie?" He finally drops the question swirling on his tongue ever since he first laid his eyes on the tantalizing sight. It's hard to hold back a smirk - you admit you were a bit doubtful if it'd actually grab your husband's attention. Who knew the stoic man was into it…

"Oh, this?" Nonchalantly you tug on the collar of your shirt and Alhaitham sharply inhales upon catching a glimpse of your barely covered breast again. "Do not worry, habibi, it is not to seduce you," he is not that sure about it.

Taking his hands in yours, you pry them off of your body and put them back to his sides, gracing his waist just above the towel with your touch. He shivers.

"I know it's different from what I usually wear, especially to work," you admit, turning around again, to grab the robes of the Akademyia's scholar. "But I really-really loved this one I purchased a couple of weeks ago on that outing with the girls. I feel so beautiful in it," fuck, you are. "And today is a special day. Want to have some confidence, you know?"

And as the rest of your body disappears under the long article of clothing, Alhaitham is finally aware of what this whole thing is about.

It's going to be an agonizingly endless day, where the only thing he can do is watch.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x fem!reader #alhaitham #genshin impact fluff

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marronje · 3 months ago

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Now having gotten somewhat used to the void in my chest I can finally drag all my thoughts about the epilogue into one pile

I know it may be getting old for some of you guys already, but I haven't seen some things being discussed anywhere

My problem with the ending is actually with the audience, I literally have almost no issues with how the epilogue is written, all the minor ones I have don't come from the epilogue but the previous plot building which wasn't perfect by all means.

1. People forget that this chapter isn't the Epilogue but the Epilogue pt. 2

TWO PARTS YOU KNOW

Please reread 430. You did? Now let's compare.

a) Can you see what the chapter is focused on? 430 is a lot more shallow, it focuses on facts and tries to contain all the changes at once and looks VERY rushed. Hori didn't have much time with his schedule, so of course he tried to fit all at once and nothing at all. This chapter is more about the system and facts, trying to answer the more crucial questions fans may have.

Chapter 430 has ~20 pages

431 has almost 40 (!)

b) 431 finally has time to look at the characters up close. Why there is so much about Uraraka? Well, because in the pt. 1 she's got one panel and a couple of words. That's why half the chapter is about her now, because she and Izuku are the male and female leads of the manga.

c) Why didn't we have more of Katsuki? Well, this character isn't very known for huge inner monologues and all this sappy stuff. We can get enough from character interaction and subtle cues, as always. Despite being a big asshole and a major loudmouth (I say this with all my love and adoration guys), Katsuki is a really stoic character. And this kind of character doesn't need a whole 5 pages writing down their motivation and inner thought process. I like this. This man remains the most conscious person here and has the greatest development in the series (and Shoto, sure, these two are on the whole other level compared to others in terms of writing)

Izuku and Ochako are more open to us, and it shows in the chapter's way of storytelling

And Shoto is still the most relatable dude here, me too, Shoto, me too...

2. Izuku is NOT shutting Katsuki out of his life. He basically invited him to TEACH TOGETHER just like Katsuki invited him to BE HEROES TOGETHER.

To me it shows clearly that these two just found their two paths that don't align fully. Izuku has been teaching for years after his quirk was gone. Sure, he still adores hero job, but he already has stability and purpose and it's IMPORTANT to him. He's only been back to heroics for a month after all. Izuku has matured significantly, and I respect that about his character even if it's not perfectly written.

"Izuku wouldn't ever decline the offer". Do I need to remind you that it's whole 8 years after their school days?

Imagine yourself 16, dreaming to start a rock band with your best friend. You're both so passionate about it, you think music is the most beautiful thing in your life and you'll never be over it.

But you get your fingers injured severely, and you can't play your guitar anymore. You're devastated, but your knowledge is valuable and you get a whole teaching degree and go to work in a musical college. It feels very fulfilling to you. But your friend is very talented, he continues and pushes forward and actually becomes a worldwide known rock star! You're so glad for him!

But the time passes, and your friend, now famous and loaded, states – you're getting most expensive treatment and surgery, and we – I and our old band bros – pay for this.

And your fingers, they work properly again. You had a whole life of 8 years, and now there are so many possibilities open. You know your friend wants you to join his band and travel and rock the stage together, he offers it to you without expecting much, because he knows you have your life settled already, you can't change that with a flick of a wrist. He's an understanding friend, even if his passion for your old shared dream burns brighter still. You can join his band for a concert or two once in a while, it's a good reprieve from your everyday life. But as much as you love music, your priorities shifted significantly since your youth – and now teaching is as important and precious to you.

You even invite your friend to give a lesson of two in the college where you work. It's a way for you two still remain in each other's lives even if your paths are a bit different now. Your connection is built on compromise and genuine support from both sides, and it's fantastic!

I know the analogy isn't perfect, but it works I suppose.

3. About Himiko and Ochako. It's a painful one, but

No, Himiko wasn't haunting Ochako for the whole 8 years, it's probably a time to time occasion. It's not because Ochako is tired, it's because she can't let go of her guilt and at particularly taxing times it manifests in these visions.

Dreams are still a big mystery for science, but what we know is that they're almost always NOT about what you see, but about the hidden layers of meaning.

And of course we know this is not REAL Himiko, it's just Ochako's mind.

So I don't understand all the weeping around Himiko now being DEAD FOR REAL OH. This is Ochako's mind, not a literal Toga's spirit no matter how much Horikoshi wants his symbolisms to be literal in this story. It's still open to interpretation if Toga is dead or notnot (she's coping).

Tsuyu is so Tsuyu 😭😭😭

Right, my girl, this dummy really thought there's something wrong with her health while she just needed to see a psychologist...

I remind you that psychotherapy is severely underdeveloped in Japan. There's still a lot of stigma around mental health there, so please keep this mentality in your mind while reading manga. "They could just go and see a therapist." No, they couldn't. Their culture doesn't work like this, and societal norms aren't a joke in Japan, they're literally overwhelming.

And about how this chapter "ruined" Himiko. To me, it didn't.

"Himiko was written for Ochako". Exactly. Ochako's main negative character trait was inability to open up about her true feelings, putting up a cheerful front and all that.

Himiko was created to get her to understand what suppressing emotions does to people. Unfortunately, it seems she didn't catch this message fully until Himiko told her with plain words and freaking pushed her forward.

And isn't it a torture for Himiko seeing Ochako beating herself over her death, putting up a brave front to avoid her inner struggle which is COMPLETELY OPPOSITE to what Himiko tried to convey?

And Himiko loved both Izuku and Ochako, so of course she wants them to be special for each other and open up to each other too.

Because Himiko LOVES love in any form (pun intended), and wishes happiness for her special people, and sees how they have been holding back from living how they wanted.

Do you really think Himiko would prefer a depressed Ochako having hallucinations of her over an Ochako who's opening up and rebuilding connections with the man she yearned to reach out to for so long?

And of course I'm not about the ship. This manga was never about the ships. We've got a clue that Izuku barely had any contact with his former classmates since graduation in 430. This chapter is created to gives us hope that it'll change, starting with Uraraka because Uraraka was the one to reach out to him first in the beginning, and now it's his turn.

I imagine that it's just a start of the reconnection arc. Izuku can do this with the rest of his classmates too later, and knowing his tendency to butt into others' business he certainly will.

(Yeah, it's an actually good idea for a new tome for you Hori, not Boruto 2.0, never Boruto 2.0 please...)

4(?). This one has gotten me confused...

They studied 3 years... so they must have become class 2-A, then 3-A.... I hope it's a bad translation.

Do you trust Jirou? She certainly did put a whole ton of wasabi in his food, look at her face

Katsuki not toasting because he's the sober friend for his whole bunch of idiots>>>>

(he really has come here for the food)

Katsuki, when did you undergo your Syndrome arc?

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breakyourrxles · 9 days ago

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❥between two breaths (m) | 𝟙𝟝

𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞

↳ 'A picture is worth a thousand words,' as the age old adage goes, but you are soon to find out that the narrative spun around them can be worth so much more.

kim sunwoo x fem!reader (side lee juyeon x reader) — idol!sunwoo, fan/trainee!reader. forced proximity, forbidden love, friends to lovers, angst, slow burn, idolverse-typical themes regarding; dating, image, public perception, etc. happy ending, plot-heavy!! reader thinks she's nonchalant about it but she rly isn't. smut. [8,7k wc ongoing] cws: heavy themes of wanting-but-can't-having, mild jealousy, explicit sexual content, a little alcohol consumption, dancing on the edge of career suicide, poor decision making because of The Wanting.

❥ masterlist | ao3

Leaning his face closer to yours, Eric squints devilishly at you and says, "Be nice to me, or I won't scout the way myself to sneak you in."

The following days speed by in a blur; comeback practice, setlist practice, multiple meetings and pre-comeback appearances meant to create interest for what is soon to come commandeer the majority of your time, and it is only once you land in Germany that you realize just how little you have been able to afford for yourself.

There is a wash of relief there when the foreign air hits your skin and the unfamiliarity of a place you have never been before begins to sink in. Of course, MVNE have things they must do here beyond a handful of songs they are set to perform tonight, but photoshoots and social media are nothing compared to the demanding schedule that still awaits you back home.

You've still not spoken to Sunwoo in weeks.

He has been away for the majority of the time, and did not fly with the rest of you. Sunwoo, you find out through overhearing discussions amongst managers, will come in a few hours in the future. Straight to the stage for rehearsals, and then a meager wait following that until it is time to perform for those awaiting him.

One positive thing about it all is that Juyeon has kept his word.

Interactions with him are brief and professional, given the fact that you are in public and there are curious eyes all around. The fans like the two of you together in certain ways—as far as performance and aesthetic are concerned—but both of you know it best to not test the limits of where your friendliness might land you.

You steal glances as he stands near to you, careful not to draw attention to yourself. He is handsome and kind; forthcoming with his thoughts and feelings, incredibly intelligent and well-read on top of it all. For a moment you wonder to yourself, why not him, and then suppose that it really is as intangible and cosmic as what he had said to you only a week or so back.

Your heart just isn't in it. What else can be said for that?

Mid-day rolls around and rehearsals come and go. The sound leaves a lot to be desired with numerous hiccups and discussions following in tow. MVNE will perform four songs, which is plenty given the way your body feels weary on account of the travel and jet lag. A couple of the girls push for one more, but you stay silent in the conversations. Really, your mind is heavier than your body could ever be. Hours have passed, the rehearsal following yours is for The Boyz, and you know who is standing by backstage awaiting their time to shine.

Your feet hurt by the time your time slot is finished—numerous runs done over and over again until finally everyone has got it right. The girls all hurry backstage to enjoy the small amount of time they have until fans start shuffling into their places and the arena lights shine for you and so many others to be seen. At the very least, the green rooms are catered well and there is a whole plethora of food awaiting you.

Once down the stairs and behind the scenes of the glamour, bodies dart around and zoom past you, all with time-sensitive tasks of their own that must be attended to. Black blurs that you cannot make out the faces of before it is too late and they have disappeared off into the distance. People are shouting and static is buzzing from sound systems and communication devices. It's stressful making sure that everything happens precisely the way it is meant to; the air brimming with electricity that can be felt right down to your bones.

You look up and to your left, your eyes catch Kevin's briefly and your heart leaps up into your throat. The understanding that they had been waiting back here is something that logically, you had made peace with, but emotionally? Evidently less so.

Yet you can't look away.

Your attention spans down the line with momentum so fast that it makes your head spin. Chanhee and Haknyeon are standing just behind, though their eyes are set to the ground in anticipation of what's to come. Mimicking them, you also look to the floor, not wanting to accidentally trip on something that may be troublesomely in front of you. Then, your eyes snap back up and as if constructed by fate itself; you find Sunwoo.

He looks at you as if he can feel the fact that your gaze sits heavy on his form. It's so dark and so busy that you only have a second or two to truly get a look at him, but you don't require much to recognize that he has seen better days and wears the fact tiredly upon him.

Those eyes light up for what seems like the first time in a long time.

But you snap away from him and are quickly ushered down the hall towards elsewhere entirely. The girls all make their way inside of the green room, a few of them wasting no time looking over the bountiful display of snacks and drinks that have been waiting there for the taking. Rather than following suit, or sitting to rest your tired feet, you halt just past the doorway and remain lost in a split-second moment that has hardly even happened, at all.

The look on his face, and the obvious desperation seen behind eyes that have no hope of being able to convey the depth of whatever it they feel as though they need to.

"Hey," a familiar voice calls to you, enough to snap you back to the present. Woori nudges you with her shoulder from just beside you and lowers her voice a little bit more to avoid being overheard. "You okay?"

"What? Yeah, of course." What else are you meant to say beyond the thing that you know she wants to hear. "Just tired, jet lagged… You know how it goes."

"First time overseas for an event, it's not easy, I'll tell you that much," she agrees. "I don't know how groups do it, back and forth all the time, but I guess all we can hope for is that eventually, that'll be us, too." There's no response you have to give to her words with your mind still left back in the hallways. Woori notices it—perceptive as she is—and lowering her voice to a whisper she says, "Are you sure you're okay? You know… with everything going on?"

You grant her your attention, and though you have no doubt that your feelings lie fully displayed upon your features, you don't have the fight left in you to attempt to correct it, either.

"It's fine." That's the best you can do. "It's all going to be fine."

From just behind where the both of you stand, a knock raps at the door and shortly thereafter it swings open to reveal a couple of familiar faces that you were not at all anticipating seeing.

There stands Rimi, dressed in white and pastel pinks. Beside her is another girl that you know, though not as familiarly as Rimi, herself. Her name is Kokoro; never not seen with bleached blonde hair and a wild aesthetic of animal prints and vast accessories.

They both enter and immediately wrap you in affection, with strong hugs and kisses pecked to the sides and top of your head. Just what you need, right about now.

"How did you guys get back here?" you ask, still basking in the love that they're showing you. "Don't tell me you've started down the dark path of sneaking into places you know you're not supposed to be."

Rimi's hands set at her hips, a comical display of displeasure at your words and she says, "Please! We would never! But more than that, we don't need to!"

Kokoro raises a hand. "My family knows one of the directors of this production, so we have just about as much free reign of this place as you do."

"Shall we step outside to chat?" Rimi suggests, "We wouldn't want to bother the other girls during their resting time, only you."

Little does she know, their presence is precisely the sort of pick-me-up that you need. Following them out, Kokoro says something about a vending machine with a very particular cold coffee that she wants, and the three of you head down towards her intended prize. It is a less frequently traveled spot by talent and staff alike; no time for anyone to hang around and enjoy the luxury of a beverage in the hours leading up to the show. For the first time in a long time, you feel the tension dissipate from your form. Comforted by the quell of madness.

"We can speak comfortably around Kokoro," Rimi says suddenly, words that feel a little out of place and do more harm than good when it comes to the stress that you're hoping to leave behind. "She already knows everything that goes on everywhere, nothing you could tell her would be news to this one."

You look the girl over. Times spent together in the past have been little more than holding spots in line and journeys for soju and barbeque after an event. However, your trust held in Rimi is unwavering, and if she is willing to vouch, then you allow yourself to accept the fact.

"My family is very well connected," Kokoro says. "I wouldn't be able to escape it if I tried."

The smile you give her is slight and half-hearted, but you don't have it in you to offer much more beyond that.

"That said! How are you? How have things been? It hasn't been long since we last spoke but a lot has happened!" With wide eyes and a dramatic display of disbelief, Rimi shakes her head as she recounts the most obvious elephant in the room. "I mean, can you believe it? Just crazy the way all of that has played out."

Busy with her drink retrieval, Kokoro finally slips the container out from the slot and still bent down, she looks up at you and says, "It must have been a very strange conversation, huh? But I guess this is business. It's all politics, smoke and mirrors and all that, ya know? Like, we always know that's the case, and then you see it in action and it's like whoa, they'll go to any lengths to get what they want, isn't that right?"

Through the course of Kokoro's tirade, your eyebrows have flexed and pressed together on your face. It hasn't been a conscious effort on your part, and though you entered this discussion with a baseline understanding of what is about, the more she has spoken, the less you have come to understand it. Somewhere along the line, the words Kokoro has said have sounded less familiar to you, and more akin to information that you have not yet become privy to.

You understand what the three of you are talking about, but simultaneously, you have no idea what the three of you are talking about.

So, you have no choice but to inquire. Your eyes dart to Rimi—who is watching you expectantly—then back to Kokoro who is seemingly unaware and working towards enjoying her prize.

"Uh, what are we talking about?"

Rimi rolls her eyes and stamps her foot like a cartoon character. "Sunwoo! The pictures, and everything!"

"I know, I gathered that much, but…"

Silence follows. Eventually, any hint of comedic display falls from Rimi and a sense of sincere urgency takes hold instead. "Wait." Her shoulders drop all of their tension, slouching lifelessly to her sides. Cocking her head inquisitively she says, "Have you not… spoken to him?"

Your throat is dry and your eyes drop from hers, unable to maintain the contact as this topic persists.

"No, I don't think I have to explain why."

"Oh shit!"

It drops from Rimi's mouth before she has a chance to reel it back. Her hands fly over her mouth and Kokoro gasps in the aftermath of it, gently swatting at her as if to reprimand her for saying it. Reaching towards you, Rimi grips your arm tightly—almost enough to hurt—and with a kind of determination you've never seen from her before she says, "Babe, you need to talk to him, oh my god. It's not true!"

Your stomach drops before you have time to truly consider the weight of what you have just been told.

"Wha… I saw the pictures," you stammer, "We all saw them. We saw the articles, the company statement…"

After struggling for quite some time, the cap finally pops off of Kokoro's drink. She takes a sip and appears wholly unbothered by the weight of the conversation that is happening around her. A loud sigh follows her sip, like she's filming for a commercial and selling the part to perfection, and once she's finished Kokoro finds the time to attend to you.

"I mean, yeah, the photos are real in the sense that they exist and they were spotted out together." She takes another sip, enamoured by the flavor in ways that seem incredibly untimely given the gravity of what is happening to you. "It's the story around them that's not. I thought for sure you would have known this, figured this was already water under the bridge. They must be keeping a real tight leash on him then."

You close your eyes, shake your head in disbelief and just say: "Pause."

A moment is needed for you to think through the unimaginable amount of thoughts swirling around in your head. You take in a slow but deep breath, holding it inside of your lungs until you can't stand to keep it there for any longer. Your nerves settle slightly, enough to move forward with all of this without completely shutting down, bursting into tears, and ruining the incredible amount of stage make-up that is crafted upon your face.

"Can you just… Start from the beginning."

"I'll keep watch!" Rimi announces, craning her body so that she can look down the hall.

"Okay, so." Kokoro revels in another sip of her coffee drink before continuing on. "My dad works with a lot of very high-profile people, so I hear about all of the nasty business in the industry. Entertainment companies, news, politics… all of it," she says. "He's currently assigned a job working very closely with the news source that posted those photos and the article along with it, and you know, these people love to talk. They love gossip. They can't sit on a secret without it killing them. Love the attention."

Growing impatient, you say, "Can we just…"

"Right! Anyway, he was there when the story broke, and I guess it was a big deal when it happened, the office was going crazy about it! So, they went out for some drinks after work and got to talking, and apparently everyone working on the project spilled! There was a lot of correspondence with your company back and forth, and apparently it wasn't just some random paparazzi that snapped the photos and sent them in… It was your company, themselves."

The more she says, the more your heart sinks down to your gut.

"So, they get these pictures of him out with this photographer. The outing is nothing special, nothing happens. It's just a casual thing amongst colleagues but you know, you can snap a single photo of a moment and spin it to seem like anything with the right kind of story attached. Which is precisely what they did. That company paid a lot of money for this all to get out, by the way. Orchestrated the whole thing. And I can't prove this—it's just something my dad overheard in passing another day—but it seems like they did it to manufacture tension in-house." Kokoro stops, gives you a knowing look and then says, "Don't have to be the smartest person in the room to know exactly what that means."

Voice trembling, you say: "They know about us."

"Yup, and are going about breaking it up in the nastiest way they know how," Kokoro confirms. "I mean, if you think about it from their perspective, there's no other way. No-dating rules have been a thing in the industry for decades but it doesn't stop anyone from doing it anyway. If you sniff out some funny business under your roof, the only real way to ensure that it stops is to craft up a way for those people to not want anything to do with each other the natural way—good ol' emotional manipulation style."

You feel sick. Your stomach twists and your chest tightens, eyes stinging with the pain of tears you're desperate to fight back. Everything hurts, straight down to your bones; body limp with the discovery that you have never been as attuned to the intricate and downright wicked willingness these people have to get whatever it is that they want.

"You're sure?" you ask. Realistically, you already know the answer to the question, but something inside of you needs to hear the confirmation one more time.

Kokoro nods. "Yeah, without a doubt. I'm really surprised he hasn't reached out about it, but my guess is that they're watching him like a hawk. He probably doesn't have free access to his phone if he hasn't."

No wonder Sunwoo never reached out once the story broke. The sickness writhes inside of you just that much more in relation to everything that has transpired since then; your feelings, your actions, things that can never be undone or taken back.

All just to find out that Sunwoo hasn't done anything, at all. Instead, he is the person with the target on his back; the first shot sent from his very own company, and the second—unbeknownst to him—fired from you.

"Someone's coming!" Rimi whisper-shouts.

Kokoro nods to her and the conversation comes to a close, but before you will allow it to do so, you grasp the sleeve of her coat into your hand and say, "Thank you, but… I need to talk to him. How do I talk to him?"

Her eyes widen. "You're asking me?" Thinking it over for a few seconds, her head bobbles in a considering sort of way as if mulling over any potential options and she says, "Are you close to anyone else in there? Someone else you trust? I can't talk to Sunwoo himself, the degrees of separation aren't far enough, but I might be able to pass a message along and start orchestrating something."

Juyeon would be willing, you know that fact well. You trust him and have seen firsthand how capable he is through missions of stealth. However, involving him in this feels too close to home—as well as other things—and so, you opt into your next best and considerably more messy option.

"Eric."

Squinting suspiciously, as if to say that you have missed the importance of this being a covert sort of going on, Kokoro relents to it and just says, "Well, alright. Eric it is, then. I'll try to talk to him and figure something out, Rimi and I will message you when we have something but it's probably for the best if we're not seen together again after this. Not until we're back in Seoul, at least."

How deep does the rabbit hole go, you wonder.

Rimi [18:47]: great news~♡ kokoro talked to eric about that client her dad works with who wants to work with him in the future and it looks like he's super open to it! we wanted to talk to him about it more later after the show, but he said something about just being way too busy with the gym tonight (¬_¬") men can be so annoying, but that's how it is! see you in seoul again soon~!

Covered in sweat, it is the first thing you see on your phone upon arriving back inside of the green room. Your heart skips, breath holding inside of your lungs out of fear that should you dare breathe, the possibility of this may disappear with it.

This is code. Obviously enough to you with the knowledge you have but not so much so that anyone who happens to see it could understand the hidden meaning behind the words.

Unexpectedly, a hand finds your back and you jump at the fright.

Kaia swings around to settle in your line of vision with a big smile on her face and a make-up wipe in hand, always the fastest to rid herself of the excessiveness of it all.

"Great job out there tonight, you were electric," she says, "We're all going to go out for dinner and some drinks, enjoy the city a bit while we're here, tell me you'll come along with us!"

You want to say no, but there is no good excuse for not doing so. The Boyz trail behind you in their performance and are set to go on shortly, and rushing back to the hotel only ensures that you sit waiting until a later point in time where you are finally able to begin perusing the hauls for the place it is that you will seek. Truthfully, the only reason you wish to bow out is a selfish desire to be alone with your own thoughts and worries; what will happen, what has happened, and what might be waiting for you in the not so distant future.

"Of course I'll come," you say, putting all of your ample weariness on the shelf for the time being. A formidable task. "You were great, too. We all were."

Miyoung is passing by as you say it, catches ear of what you've said, and flashes you a smile as she continues on her way.

For MVNE, things couldn't be better. Little do they know how close you are to bringing it all toppling down.

You don't know Eric's manager, nor how intense he is about his line of work. All you know is that this had seemingly been his plan, and if he had set it into motion, then it must be fairly smooth going from here.

The room you have is shared with Serri and you're quite thankful for that. A perfect night for her is staying in, watching television and scrolling through her phone with little interest for much else to entertain her. She is quiet and kind, but wholly uninterested in being the life of the party—especially after a long day of travel, rehearsals, and performances.

When you say you're leaving to see what the accommodations have to offer, she barely even hums to acknowledge your words.

Circumstances are such now that you can't take any chances with anyone you may run into, and so, you are dressed accordingly. The typical wear of an idol engaged in sneaky business and you make it a point to keep your head low, not bothering to ask the front desk where the location of the gym even is. You trust you can find it on your own—these places have maps everywhere—and once you make it to the lobby, your instinct to trust your gut is instantly rewarded.

Basement level, just one more level down and just beside the pool.

You don't know what time you're meant to be here, and you don't ask Rimi for any further clarification, either. Correspondence with Eric is certainly out—not that you have a way of getting ahold of him, anyway—so all that you can hope is that their business is wrapped up and you haven't kept him waiting so long that he has already retired back to bed. It's late, most people are no longer making their way through the halls… All you can do is hope.

Down here it's musty and the scent of lingering wetness clings to the carpet that you're walking on. You pass a door for staff, and then the very next one is precisely what you are searching for.

With a racing heart that threatens to leap from your chest, you slowly push the door open.

And seated on a bench right in plain sight, is Eric.

"Your friends told me they have an exciting opportunity waiting for me, how nice of you to send them my way."

While a part of you wants to clear the distance and jam a fist into his arm, the stronger part nearly wants to break down and cry.

"Youngjae…"

His eyes go wide. "Whoa, government name. You're really in the trenches, huh?"

Fighting the floor of emotions that threaten to take hold, you bring your palms to your face and drag them downwards woefully as you make your way towards him. Eric pats the empty portion of the bench just beside him and you take your seat with a despondent plop.

"I need to talk to Sunwoo."

"You're kinda dumb, you know that? I can't believe you saw all that and really thought that what you were seeing is what you were really getting. I mean, seriously? Another woman?"

"You're not helping."

Eric reels a bit, rolls his eyes like he accepts that his badgering is not particularly wanted and says, "I'm just saying, you know that guy is crazy about you. I mean, I didn't have the proof and he hadn't told me it wasn't true yet but like… I kind of knew someone was playing games, and it wasn't him."

"You can hang me up in the city square for torture another time, but right now I need to talk to him. He doesn't have his phone?"

"Nope, at least, not without someone eyeing him while he's using it. It's kind of a nightmare, if I'm being honest. Can't send as many dick jokes as I'd typically like." You look over at him with a glare, and once again Eric realizes that his additional anecdotes are falling on deaf ears. "Alright, look… It's late enough by now that I don't think he's being hounded. We got food and some drinks after the show and then a few of us headed back in, him included. I told him I was going to come over so we could see if the theory is true that Ridiculousness is literally always showing on TV in hotels, no matter where you are or what time it is. He seemed to like that idea."

"I cannot believe you guys are actually idols," you say, "No wonder everyone likes girl groups now, instead."

Leaning his face closer to yours, Eric squints devilishly at you and says, "Be nice to me, or I won't scout the way myself to sneak you in."

His hand grips your wrist and just as swiftly, you are dragged to your feet and back towards the door.

When the elevator announces your arrival, your breath fully catches in your throat. Once again, you hold it for fear that none of this is real, that with one faulty move karma will deem your being here something that should not happen.

The silver doors slide open and Eric pops his head out.

"Nothing, it's clear. Pretty sure everyone is asleep already, managers included."

"Even for him?" you ask.

Looking back at you he says, "Yeah, they're tyrants but they're not on him twenty-four-seven, nobody gets paid enough to do that. Let's go."

Eric wanders down the hallway with the sort of nonchalant ease of a guy with absolutely nothing to lose. It must be nice, you think to yourself, walking with your body nearly curling inside of itself as if to disappear should the slightest of glances fall upon you.

"What if someone else is inside?" you ask then, nervousness making itself evident through your questioning.

He briefly glances back at you again. "Again, not paid enough."

"You guys don't room together?"

"Not anymore, perks of being in the game for a while." Eric pauses for a second and then says, "Wait, you two were friends for a while before all of this, don't you know that already?"

"I never went to his room, are you insane?"

Playfully offended, Eric tosses his hands into the air and says, "Okay, sorry. Forgot meeting at restaurants was a much safer option, as has thoroughly been demonstrated to us."

His jovialness is hardly appreciated.

The two of you turn a corner and after only a few more steps, you stop in front of a door. Neither of you move, and after a couple of long, unnecessarily drawn out moments Eric looks at you and says, "Okay. We're here. Knock."

"Is it weird that I'm scared?"

He rolls his eyes, a seemingly common reaction from him in regards to you now. "Oh my god." His fist pounds on the door—far more loudly than you think is really necessary given that this whole operation is meant not to draw attention—and then before the door even begins to draw open, Eric begins his journey back the way you came.

"You're not waiting!?" It's something in between a necessary whisper and a displeased yell, and all he gives you in reply to it is a big grin and a shrug.

Time draws on so slowly that you easily lose track of how much goes by with you perched up outside of the room. How many seconds has it been? A minute, perhaps? You don't know. Beneath your skin, your veins feel like fire in anticipation of what's to come. Maybe he's asleep, maybe Eric was wrong and the person that is soon to greet you is the angry face of a manager that somehow knew that all of this was taking place. A heavy exhale leaves you and it's shaky with uncertainty. You shouldn't be here, you can still leave… and yet, you can't. No matter what.

There's a click from behind the door and your heart nearly stops. It begins to pry open slowly, and though you aren't quite able to make out what lies beyond, the thing that does come to you is the gentle waft of warm steam and the noise beyond that grows louder as it widens.

An arm slips out, hand grasping your sweatshirt by the sleeve and forcefully dragging you inside.

What awaits you hidden away in those walls is a flurry of lips, teeth and hands.

Neither of you say a word and Sunwoo's mouth finds yours in a flash. His hands are warm and wet; hastily slipping beneath your sweater and tearing it upwards to rid you of the bothersome thing. With a pounding heart and chest that feels suffocatingly tight, you completely let go and relent to what he intends to give you; it's been far too long, you put up enough of a fight, and as far as you are concerned… This is the other side of a battle well-fought.

Beside you, the bathroom door is left ajar—a shower still running hot inside of it. The taste of beer still lingers faintly on Sunwoo's tongue as you revisit a place you have been so many times before. His skin is damp, warm; and droplets of water hopelessly cling to long, black clumps of curls that dangle in front of his eyes.

But more than anything else, he is relentless in his pursuit.

Sunwoo's fingers dig at the button of your jeans and though you make the effort to aid him in the task, it is already completed by the time your hands find their way there. His movements are hurried and clumsy; needy and rushed that aren't entirely unlike him but nothing that you have quite seen before. Teeth nip at your bottom lip and your body melts into the feeling of his hands smoothing over the skin of your sides. When your head falls back, he takes it as the perfect opportunity to drag his lips down the expanse of your throat; kissing, nipping… Maybe even marking.

You should care. You should find the strength to take the reins of this and bring it back to a place that isn't so desperate with careless need.

But you don't.

Dragging you into the bathroom, Sunwoo's mouth barely leaves your skin even for a second. Fingers disappear beneath the top of your jeans and they are quickly shimmied from your legs, discarded and quickly forgotten. Right along with all other intimates you had been hiding underneath.

Once you are finally disrobed, the towel tied at Sunwoo's hips is the next to fall away. His hands come back up to cradle your face, the urgency behind his actions slows to nearly a halt, and he kisses you again unlike any of the times before.

It isn't want that hangs shackled behind this motion, but something far more delicate and sensitive to the touch. This is adoration, it's regret, it's something raw and exposed and meant only for you, and you, alone.

It feels like love.

Sunwoo presses you to step backwards, and so you follow suit. The water is hot and jarring to your skin as it cascades down upon you. Never letting go, the persistence once again finds its way within his motions and once chaste kisses are replaced with tongue and teeth and a need to feel you in all of the ways he has been so desperate for before.

Your palms press into the flesh of his chest and the mere amount of muscle that rests underneath. Sunwoo is overwhelming in his insistence on all things, and being a lover is no different. The air is heavy around you with moisture in a way that makes it difficult to breathe, inebriated by the combination of both it and his desire to have you.

As your touch wanders, so does his. You slip down towards his waist and settle at his hips, now starkly aware of the fact that neither of you have a single garment covering your forms. All of your shared intimacy up until this point has been quick and to the point with little time afforded to revel in the joy of exploring one another's bodies. All of this is new to you, entirely uncharted waters await.

You feel his fingertips light and gentle as they slip down the front of your body and towards the space between your legs. Sunwoo's touch is shockingly delicate given the way his lips slot against your own. The feeling of his hands on your skin, his body pressing harder, firmer against your own dizzies you nearly out of the ability to think clearly. You've wanted this for so long; tried to fight it and lied to everyone—including yourself—in an attempt to win the war waging between you.

Sliding a hand up his back, you bury fingers deep within his hair. Sunwoo groans into your open mouth as a result of the touch and the sound of him like this—the look of him with lustful, half-lidded eyes and lips plump from abuse—sends a wanting chill down your spine that all but has you melting into putty in his hands.

When he goes in to connect your lips once more, you keep the hold of his head in your hands firm, disallowing him from doing so. The thought has lingered in the darkest recesses of your mind ever since his touch fell upon you; a dutiful thing that—while ugly and untimely—simply cannot be ignored.

"I…" you begin to say, and even just that much is sputtered out in a directionless way, with no clear path to follow. Sunwoo looks at you tentatively and with unwavering interest. All that you can hope for is that what you have to say will not shutter it away—rightfully, and for good.

"I…" you start again, forcing the rest of the confession out past the painful dryness in your throat. "I slept with Juyeon." Tears begin to form but you refuse to let them come. Crying on account of your own actions feels manipulative even if the intent to be so is not truly there. Your lip trembles as you continue with the words. "After the article, the pictures… I—"

Sunwoo's face twists into a mixture of things as he looks at you: confusion, disbelief, but most of all… indifference. "I don't fucking care," he says, firm and resolute. His hands clasp your face all over again and he kisses you hard, pulls back, and then reiterates it again: "I don't fucking care about that."

Your back finds the smooth tile of the shower wall shortly thereafter, and Sunwoo's hand falls down once more to fit between your legs. The gasp that slips away from your lips is immediately taken in by his own through fervent kisses and the ever so slight but pleased grin that twists at his mouth. Knees that feel gelatinous threaten to no longer be able to hold your weight, the arousal pooling where he touches you leaving your senses feeling stifled past anything but him. You can no longer hear the sounds of the water beating down or smell the faint hint of floral shampoo that once seemed so strong in the air; only slightly panting breaths just beside your ear and alcohol that has long since been consumed.

Sunwoo's fingers are long and slender, inching down and then slowly inside in an effort to have you melting around them. Tension drops from your shoulders as he does, your head falling back against the wall and his lips quick to taste the exposed skin there. That all-too-knowing curl follows—heel of his palm firm against the dull throb that begs for attention—this place has been visited between the two of you so many times before, and Sunwoo's expertise in the matters of having you come undone this way are fully on display.

His free hand finds your thigh and the feeling of his fingernails gently gripping into the flesh there as your body craning off the wall and harder up against his, but the pleading groan that drips from him afterwards is the final straw of your quickly dwindling sense of composure.

In your mind, the way you say his name sounds stronger than the actuality of it; broken, pathetic, and little more than a whimper.

"God, I want…"

Sunwoo doesn't finish the thought but you already know precisely what he means by it. This is quickly spiraling out of control should either of you hope to walk away from this with good decisions having been made. There is no push for more being made save for the idle desperation felt from his fingertips raking at your thigh. He wants more—knows neither of you have walked into this situation amply prepared for that—and worst of all, so do you.

And throwing all caution to the wind; a victim of being drunk with history, regret, and arousal, you find his warm, wet lips all over again to kiss him with silent, unspoken confidence and intent.

"I don't care," you whisper against them.

The reaction that follows is nothing short of a culmination of things, none of which are ill-suited for the situation at hand. Sunwoo's head falls back, eyes rolling as if some part of him had been holding out hope for the fact that you might be better than him—better than this. You're not, neither is he; and though it may be poor decision making at its finest, when his gaze drops down to find yours again, there is a sort of sinister hunger now sitting behind his eyes.

You know Sunwoo well enough to know he wouldn't dare to broach the subject on his own, but your willingness to put it on the table for yourself is simply too much for him to be able to deny.

The grip becomes strong, creating space for his hips between your legs as the hand once there moves to himself. His chest presses against your own, lips ghosting across yours as you feel the careful first push inside.

"Can't tell you no," he says softly, breath escaping him through the words as he sinks deeper into your body. "I've been dying to give you anything you want."

Feeling him bury into you, the closeness of your bodies, and the heat of your surroundings has you dizzy with need. Your hands slide up the hot, wet skin of his back with nails fast to dig in and find purchase against the muscles just below. They flex and move beneath your touch, tense with strength to hold you open for him and shifting with every slow, concentrated drive of himself into you. The friction of each drag blurring your vision, oxygen thick and hard to take into your lungs through the steam that continues to form.

Once frenzied kisses fall to the wayside in favor of open mouth panting and a repeated chorus of whines, groans and moans. Sunwoo watches your expressions intently for any hint of how to take you further as he settles into a more demanding, conscious pace. "Feel good?" he asks, voice low and labored, intonation matching with every press of his hips against yours.

The answer is written all over your face, given away with every sound that falls away from you and every deep drag of your nails against his back. He'll likely walk away from this encounter with rows of evidence to show for the fact, and you can only hope that there's nothing in his immediate future that might cause that being known.

Even just thinking about it has his name escaping you in a desperate plea for more of him.

"Keep doing that and I'm gonna come," Sunwoo says, a hedonistic growl laced through his tone. "But I need to feel you fall apart on me first." His lips drag across the flesh of your jaw, teeth lightly sinking in as he continues fucking you through the way his words make you tighten around him. "Then I'll have you moaning my name as much as you want."

Your muscles tense, the need for release teetering on the edge of unbearable to the point that your body aches from the tension. Nails dig deeper into him, so much so that he winces at the feeling but never once relents, and taking matters into his own hands, Sunwoo presses you harder against the wall in anticipation for how unrelenting his drives become. Faster, longer, fuller strokes that have you coming undone at a breakneck pace. Any control of your volume immediately falls to the wayside and is amplified by the bathroom echo—so just as quickly, Sunwoo fits his palm snugly across your mouth.

His eyes fixate on yours, completely in tune to the feeling and movement of your body as he works to bring you over the edge. Eyes blown out with lust and need and a sort of carnal desire to have and acquire something that he has, to some degree, always believed to be his.

"Come on," he urges, "Come for me, your body's begging for it."

Once loud moans dissipate into a silent cry through your release. It shakes you, rattles your body almost painfully as it rips through you. Any concept of your surroundings completely melts away for those few, slow seconds following the intensity that wrecks your body. Sunwoo never stops, never slows as he continues to fuck you through it without so much as a falter; and the gasps you find do cuminate into a breathless, pathetic chant of his name just as he so desired.

But he can't continue through it much longer, in the haze of your immediate aftermath you can feel the shake to his strength, the tremble of his breaths as his own end rushes to find him. The once easy rhythm to his hard drives into you are quickly dissembling; his head drops, forearm pressed to the wall beside your head like the additional assistance to his stance is needed.

Watching him unravel like this is delectable in ways you never could have possibly anticipated.

"Gonna come," he whines, "I'll pull—"

"Don't."

Your insistence for otherwise has his hips stuttering, head dropping down to just beside yours as he growls through the logical resistance of it. Hands once firms against his back slide down to his hips, guiding him forward and urging him to do precisely as you have instructed.

"Fuck." The exasperation sounds punched out of his chest, aching and craving for exactly what you've offered him. His head snaps back up, the hand against the wall then curling around to lightly grip into your hair as hungry lips once again find your own. All teeth and tongue and groans into your mouth as his drives once again find the speed and depth they had before. "Want me to come inside you?" he says, words filthy and coated with venom on his tongue. "Want me to take you, want me to really make you mine?"

And the airy yes that escapes from you is just as sinful.

Confirmation is all he needs, the simple word echoing against the shower walls as Sunwoo buries himself hard and deep inside of you. Laborious pants draft over your mouth, his chest rising and falling in quick succession with every aching throb of release that shakes him. He pulls from you only just a bit before pressing forward fully again, and an anguished whimper dies in his throat for the last time.

Basking in the immediate aftermath, there is only silence now. Your chests rise and fall with the hope of finally finding the calmness of breath that you seek, and slowly breaking apart your bodies, Sunwoo hisses at the feeling of loss and then suspiciously squints at you.

"Oh, you're a freak, huh?"

You deadpan.

"Says the guy with a fire-hot possessive streak."

"Very normal kink to have, I'll have you know." He inches his face closer to yours again, lingers in the space just between your mouths and then quickly pecks a kiss there. "Sure worked for you."

Gently shoving him backwards and into the stream of water, you roll your eyes and relent to the most obvious thing of all. "I guess I should have known that the mouthiest guy I know would be no different… In other aspects."

"Yes, you should have," Sunwoo agrees, and annoyingly so. "And as much-needed as this was and a great reunification gift… I guess we've got a whole lot more talking that we need to do."

The sound of his voice in the latter half of the realization is so far from the strength and confidence displayed only moments before. Sunwoo's eyes fall away from yours like he doesn't have the courage to face you, nor the choices you have made. Juyeon had insisted that this day would come, and though you had eventually relented to accepting that fact, suppose you had expected there to be just a bit more time spanning in between. Time for it to feel further in the past, time for it to feel less like a wound still trying to scab.

You offer a small and forced smile then say, "Lets get cleaned up, I want to enjoy this for a little while longer."

Sunwoo crawls into bed beside you last, tending to the last minute prep of your final moments together like this. You are unable to spend the night here and are expected to be found in your room by the time a manager makes his way to retrieve you in the morning. You'll be tired, the wear of the long evening will certainly show on your face… But it was worth it, without a doubt in your mind.

The television flickers on and a program that you neither recognize nor understand flashes onto the screen just as the light to the room is harshly shut off. It smells faintly of him; clothing, cosmetics, fragrances scattered about as far as the eye can see with little care for the place that they happen to land. Comforting and familiar within the coffin of a secret you no longer hold.

Slipping in beside you, Sunwoo's head falls daintily to the side as he offers you a tight-lipped smile. His arm falls over the front of you—laid out on your back and spending the majority of your time staring towards the ceiling.

Tip-toeing back through the memory of how it is that the two of you arrived here.

"So," he says, and his voice is so quiet that you almost don't even hear him. "Tell me."

But there's no strength behind those words, and that sinks into your chest with a weight far heavier than anything you could have anticipated. Sunwoo wants to know because he feels like he needs to; not through jealousy or even anger, but because of the very same reason that Juyeon knew to be true.

"I was angry." Staring up at the darkness of the ceiling, from here it looks as though it can carry on forever. A part of you wishes that you could disappear into it, leaving all of this behind, but the tender curl of Sunwoo's fingertips into the flesh of your stomach remind you to be present and that being here just might be worth it, after all.

"I had actually just gotten back from meeting with my friend, one of the girls that met with Eric backstage. We talked about you. Talked about us." You pause, remembering that day. Inhaling deeply, you continue on. "I got home and the girls showed me. I mean, what else was I meant to think?"

Turning your head, your eyes find his. Light from the TV flashes across them in an almost mesmerizing way. Easy to get lost in, easy to forget that all of this has been, and will continue to be, so hard.

"So, I was hurt, and I was angry, because I thought how can he be saying all of this to me while doing this behind my back? It's not as though we've never talked about you and other women, so I figured if there would ever be someone else, you'd at least respect me enough to say as much. It just felt like a knife to the back, after everything."

"You wanted payback," Sunwoo reasons.

"Yeah, and what better way to cash in, I guess."

"Fucking my friend?" The words are jarring when you hear them despite the light and comical way that he delivers it. Sunwoo rolls his eyes, sighs, and says, "Sure, that'll do it."

"Are you mad?"

"No." Inching closer, Sunwoo's lips ghost just beside your ear to say, "I came inside you." But as if the consideration has only just found him, he reels back suddenly, startled and says, "Wait, did he…?"

You shove him with nearly enough strength to have him falling out of the bed completely.

"No! Are you insane?"

The giggle that follows is annoying and presumptuous in its intent, but true, nonetheless. Sunwoo crawls his way back to snugly fit his body against yours and says, "See, you like me. What's there to be mad about? All jokes aside though, the whole situation is shit and obviously I know how it looks, so I can't really blame you for acting out. I mean, sure, I kinda wish you didn't fuck Tall, Scary and Handsome because that's a whole lot to try and compete with, but Juyeon's nice. He's a good guy. He probably had a whole lot to say about it, too."

Your eyes shut slowly at the recollection. "Yeah, he certainly does… Think about things."

"I take solace in the fact that you had to suffer for it in some way."

In silence, the two of you lay together for many long moments. Sunwoo's finger traces shapes over the expanse of your skin idly, lost in thought much like yourself, if you had to guess as much. Your mind has been heavy since long before your arrival here and the subsequent actions taken thereafter; but now that they have occurred, your thoughts have muddled and congealed past the point of being recognizable to you.

Turning your head to look at him again, you find the courage to say the thing that maybe—for a long time now—you've really wanted to say.

It isn't permanent, just speaking it aloud, but it certainly does feel that way.

"I don't think I want to be an idol anymore."

Sunwoo's hand slowly comes to a stop.

a/n: fun fact but this shower scene was The Scene that this whole entire thing spawned from, and now we're finally here. escape by tbz the perfect listening vibes for it 😋

#sunwoo smut #tbz smut #the boyz smut #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo imagines #sunwoo scenarios #tbz x reader #tbz imagines #tbz scenarios #the boyz x reader #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

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aziraphales-library · 5 months ago

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this is going to sound slightly stupid i’m begging you to bear with me

you know those fanfics from like 2013, the rpf’s that (usually) were about musicians like harry styles or brenden urie?

they’d go something along the lines of, ‘not-like-other-girls’ sitting in the crowd of a concert her friend dragged her out to, but she just doesn’t care about the music it’s so not her thing so she reads a book during the concert (cue the groans). then the lead singer sees her and is totally taken by her uniqueness and calls her out from the stage or asks to see her after the show yada yada.

anyway, i saw some fan art of rockstar!crowley and normie!aziraphale, and i thought it’d be fun to see if there’s anything similar to those kinds of rpf’s but instead for crowley and aziraphale!

We have a #famous crowley tag you can check out. Here are some fics in which Crowley is famous and Aziraphale is not...

A rockstar's love by The_boxhead (G)

Crowley had a lot of problems finding someone to have a relationship with as the famous rockstar that he is. But that day when he entered that coffee shop and saw that blond haired man behind the counter, he didn’t want more than to get to know that beautiful angel with that cute smile.

Star Crossed by AppleSeeds (T)

When Crowley, the lead singer of wildly successful rock band The Sixth Circle, agrees to take part in a radio show discussion feature, the last thing he expects is to come away from it completely smitten with a man who must be the world's most adorable magician. Crowley's uncharacteristic behaviour towards Aziraphale during the show doesn't go unnoticed by the listeners, with speculation soon running rife online. Only one thing for it - Crowley just needs to engineer an opportunity to see Aziraphale again. All in the name of generating publicity, of course.

Never Too Late by AppleSeeds (T)

It's been thirty-five years since the height of Aziraphale's enormous crush on rockstar Anthony Crowley, but when he sees that Anthony is still performing, Aziraphale feels he owes it to his younger self not to pass up the opportunity to finally hear him sing live. The last thing he expects is for Anthony to actually approach him once the concert is over, extending an invitation that surpasses every fantasy Aziraphale harboured about him as a young man and resulting in the most memorable night of his life.

The Only One I Still Know How to See by Furuba_Fangirl (E)

Aziraphale has been an admirer of Anthony J. Crowley for years. However, the gap between audience member and stage actor begins to thin when they are given the chance to officially meet.

Soho by Lurlur (E)

Aziraphale lives a quiet kind of life, running a quiet specialist bookshop in one of the liveliest districts of London. He's content with his lot, happy with his friends, tolerant of his probably-human housemate, living vicariously through the gossip pages. One day, a chance encounter with Anthony Crowley, lead singer of wildly successful rock band The Demons, threatens to turn his whole world upside down.

Find the Light by klikandtuna (E)

I saw a collection of gifs on tumblr combining David Tennant as a rock star and Michael Sheen as a school headmaster (see the notes of Chapter 1 for a link to the post!) and someone said that it ought to be a fic, sooooo I've made it a fic. Here's a heapin' helping of rock-star Crowley and headmaster Aziraphale! Now with shiny new cover art, also by me!

Win a Date With Anthony J. Crowley! by Caedmon (E)

Crowley is a world-famous rock star who sells out arenas. His name is synonymous with 'rock-n-roll', and he thrives on the spotlight. When he agrees to raffle off a date with himself for charity, he's expecting to meet an overzealous fan that wants to wear his skin and very well might try to roofie him. What he's not expecting is to be instantly attracted to the quiet man with the unusual name who shows up for the date at the Ritz... and he's certainly not expecting for Aziraphale to have no clue who he is...

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #human au #famous crowley #musician crowley #rockstar crowley #actor crowley #adult omens #mod d

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ladybunny44 · 1 month ago

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Hi hi! If it's okay I'd like to request hehehe, akashi seijuro and reader fic (in a relationship) where they're still at teiko and the whole situation happens, akashi orders reader to break up because they probably don't want this version of him but reader doesn't want to and stays in the relationship and the reader follows seijuro to rakuzan pls. Fluff and comfort pls 🥺

I loved the emperor's sweet spot very much, it's very rare to find more reader fics of him🥹❤️

🌙 Through Every Version of You 🌹

Pairing : Akashi Seijuro x Gn!Reader

Genre : ❕️☁️

Word Count : ~2000

Summary : Akashi Seijuro, the prodigy of Teiko’s basketball team, decides to push you away, believing you can’t accept every side of him. Despite the heartbreak, your love for him never falters. With the help of your best friend, you follow him to Rakuzan, determined to prove your devotion and show him that you’ve always loved him, unconditionally. Featuring emotional reunions, heartfelt confessions, and the softer side of Akashi that only you get to see.

TW/CW : Angst with a happy ending, sweet and tender romance also emotional confrontational and reconciliation. 🌧

NOTIFICATIONS ꩜ ₊ ⊹! : Enjoy the oneshot! Thank you for the request :) 📚

『••✎••』

The rain poured heavily outside the Teiko gym, its rhythmic sound echoing through the quiet campus. You waited near the entrance, nervously twisting the silver bracelet on your wrist—a gift from Akashi Seijuro, given on your first anniversary. The small charm, a basketball and a cherry blossom, dangled lightly, a bittersweet reminder of happier times.

When Akashi finally emerged, his dual-colored eyes met yours. For a fleeting second, they softened, but his expression quickly turned sharp and unreadable.

“We need to talk,” he said, his voice calm but firm.

The weight of his words settled in your chest like a stone, but you followed him outside, the rain-soaked courtyard becoming the stage for a conversation you didn’t want to have.

“We should break up.”

His words hit like a slap. You stared at him, your hand reflexively clutching the bracelet on your wrist.

“What are you talking about, Seijuro?” you asked, your voice trembling.

He avoided your gaze, his jaw tightening. “This isn’t working. I’ve thought about it, and it’s for the best. You don’t—” He hesitated, his voice faltering for just a moment. “You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve me.”

The tears in your eyes blurred your vision, but you stepped closer, determined to get through to him. “What are you saying? I love you, Seijuro. Why are you doing this?”

“I’m doing this for you,” he snapped, his tone harsher than you’d ever heard. “You don’t know what it’s like—the other side of me. I won’t let you suffer because of it.”

“You think so little of me?” you said, your voice breaking. “I’ve seen the sides of you, Seijuro. All of them. And I love every single one.”

He froze, his expression faltering as if your words had hit their mark. But then he stepped back, his face hardening once more. “This is final,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion. “Goodbye, Y/N.”

With that, he walked away, leaving you in the rain, clutching the bracelet and the pieces of your shattered heart.

Months passed, and while the heartbreak lingered, your resolve never wavered. Akashi’s absence left a void, but you knew him better than anyone. His cold demeanor was a façade, and no matter how far he pushed you away, you couldn’t let him shoulder everything alone.

One sunny afternoon, you met Aya, your best friend, at your favorite park. The two of you sat on the grass, flipping through high school brochures and discussing your futures.

“So,” Aya began, glancing at you slyly, “any idea where you’re going yet?”

You sighed, staring at the Rakuzan High brochure in your lap. “Not really,” you lied, your fingers brushing against the bracelet Akashi had given you.

Aya raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Nice try, but I know you. You’re still hung up on Akashi, aren’t you?”

Your cheeks flushed as you avoided her gaze. “I just… I can’t stop thinking about him.”

She leaned closer, her voice dropping conspiratorially. “Well, it’s a good thing I know where he’s going.”

Your head snapped up. “What? How?”

She smirked, holding up her phone. “My boyfriend hangs out with some of his old teammates. They let it slip he’s heading to Rakuzan.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Rakuzan,” you murmured.

Aya grinned, nudging you. “And guess what? Rakuzan is on your list of schools, too. Coincidence? I think not.”

You bit your lip, the idea of following Akashi both exciting and nerve-wracking. “What if he doesn’t want to see me?”

Aya rolled her eyes. “Please. He’s probably brooding somewhere, missing you like crazy but too stubborn to admit it. Someone has to knock some sense into him, and that someone is you.”

The first month at Rakuzan was a whirlwind of new classes and faces, but the one person you wanted to see remained just out of reach. You heard whispers of Akashi’s name in the hallways and caught fleeting glimpses of him on campus, but he always seemed untouchable, a distant figure at the top of a mountain.

It wasn’t until Aya cornered you after class one day that things began to change.

“I just heard from one of his teammates that Akashi’s at the gym right now,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “This is your chance.”

You hesitated, clutching your bag tightly. “What if he doesn’t want to see me?”

Aya crossed her arms. “Y/N, you didn’t transfer here just to avoid him. Go. You owe it to yourself—and to him.”

Her words gave you the push you needed. Heart pounding, you made your way to the gym, the bracelet on your wrist a comforting weight.

When you arrived at the gym, your nerves nearly got the better of you. But as you stepped inside, your eyes immediately found him. Akashi stood in the center of the court, his presence commanding as ever.

For a moment, you froze, unsure of what to say. Then, as if sensing your gaze, Akashi turned. His mismatched eyes widened slightly when they landed on you.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice unreadable. “What are you doing here?”

“I go here since it's in my school list, coincidently, i heard about you going here.” you said, your voice steady despite your racing heart. “I told you I wasn’t going to leave you, Seijuro. I meant it.”

Behind you, Aya grinned mischievously as she spotted a few Rakuzan teammates lingering curiously at her at the edges of the gym. She urges all of them together to watch the k-drama unfold, Soon enough, they were all poorly hiding behind gym equipment, watching intently.

“I don’t understand,” Akashi said, his usually composed expression faltering. “Why would you…”

“Because I love you,” you interrupted, stepping closer. You held up your wrist, the bracelet catching the light. “You gave this to me, remember? It symbolizes trust. I never stopped believing in you, Seijuro. Not for a second.”

His eyes softened, the walls he’d built around himself crumbling. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice shaking slightly. “For everything. For trying to push you away.”

You smiled, reaching out to take his hand. “I forgave you a long time ago. I just want to move forward—together.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

『••✎••』

Later That Evening

The two of you sat on a quiet bench outside the gym after Akashi finishes practicing, the evening breeze carrying the scent of blooming flowers. Akashi’s hand rested over yours, his grip firm but tender, as if he were afraid you might disappear.

“You’re too good to me,” he said softly, his crimson-and-gold eyes locked on yours.

“You don’t get to decide that,” you replied teasingly, your fingers interlacing with his. “I stayed because I love you, Seijuro. That’s my choice.”

He smiled faintly, his gaze filled with an emotion so rare it took your breath away. Slowly, he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

When he pulled back, his lips hovered close to yours. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, his voice filled with both guilt and affection.

“You deserve love, Seijuro,” you whispered, leaning closer. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

This time, you closed the distance, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was soft, tender, and full of unspoken promises.

#ladybunny #akashi seijuro x reader #fluff #angst to fluff #hurt/comfort #kuroko no basket fanfiction #knb x reader #knb akashi #x reader

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 6 months ago

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Hi Raven! Just a question that’s been confusing me for awhile, and I think if anyone can answer it you can lol

In Book 6, when we go out searching for Grim in the beginning, he scratches the MC, who then passes out. When we wake up, it’s to Ace’s voice telling us to wake up, and we’re back in Ramshackle. How? For a little while I figured it was because we had texted them telling them Grim was missing, and that maybe we had told them where we were going and they found us? But then I realized with Ace’s wording, it makes it sound more like we were there in bed when they arrived. It may be very well that there is no answer as of yet, but I thought maybe there was something I had forgotten or hadn’t picked up on.

Thanks!

That's right; Adeuce's wording at the beginning of book 6 implies that they found you in your bed, not outside on the VDC/SDC stage. Therefore, these two are not the ones who brought Yuu back to Ramshackle following the cat scratch.

I discussed this topic ~2 years ago (in this post)--and two years later, when we're at 7-139 of the main story (in JP), we still don't have any more clues about who is responsible for returning the passed out Yuu to their dormitory.

As I've mentioned in another older post, it's possible that we get more details about this later in book 7. My guess is that the most likely culprits are either Crowley (who still has unknown motives) or Malleus (who is the only character I know of that wanders the campus at night). There is quite a distance between the VDC/SDC stage and Ramshackle. This would have to be traversed while accounting for carrying a whole ass body (Yuu), so the culprit would have to be someone with considerable physical stamina... or perhaps powerful magic.

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Ace Trappola #Malleus Draconia #Dire Crowley #Yuu #Grim #Deuce Spade #book 5 spoilers #book 6 spoilers #question #notes from the writing raven #twst theory #twst theories #twisted wonderland theory #twisted wonderland theories

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galacticfire · 13 days ago

Text

Wout interview (in french) on Bistrot Vélo (FR Eurosport)

(starts at 3:00, ends at 25:20)

says hi that he's good and he did a long training today :)

asked if he's not getting a break after liévin and (jokingly) calls liévin a little pause before the classics training, he has lighter training tomorrow then leaves for mallorca on wednesday

Does he have regrets about liévin and his 4th line start:

"Yeah for sure, after the race when I saw it was possible for me to keep a bit of the same gap to mathieu, it's too bad that I wasn't here at the start in the first lap with him because then I could've put a little bit of pressure on him. Now, he has the luxury of controlling the race and not have the necessity of taking risks so... yeah that's a shame but when I decided to do the race I knew I was starting 4th line, it was my own choice to not do many cross races this year so it's stupid to wonder about it"

Added a bit about being blocked right at the start because of the tumblr in front of him and losing all of his speed. Took him almost one lap to have enough space to begin his own race.

asked about any belgian team strategy (teammates braking in front to let him come back etc) and if there was any in the first place:

"No no we talked in particular about the first lap because I thought at the start it was almost impossible to, when you're 2nd line you can think of a strat and someone lets you pass or something like that, but 4th line there are many other riders. We only discussed that they'd let me pass when I was here in the first lap in the top 10 so I can move faster towards Mathieu or towards the leaders of the race." adds they didnt discuss anything else because he doesn't believe strategies like that are doable, to which he's told "except with Tim Merlier in Zolder!". But it was another start and Tim was 2nd line he thinks. Calls it the "good old times".

Why make the choice to not do many cross races?

Talks about his vuelta crash, how he couldn't train until november but his condition was bad and he couldn't really go on runs, they decided it was possible to race some crosses in december. He didn't think his form would be good enough to get any result on a championship at the start. Few cross races with a lot of training between races but not a real racing block. Really happy to be at this level and was really happy to be able to go to wk.

When was the decision to go to wk made, big talks about they were soooo sure he was gonna go if he was good at maasmechelen and had been talking about it the whole season (they're just like us fr). They ask for the REAL TRUTH:

He doesnt seem to be saying the full truth :) but before maasmechelen he discussed with the belgian coach about wk being a possibility but it was a question of being able to wait until the last race to make a decision. Felt great in maasmechelen and had more and more fun. Said indirectly the beginning of the season was just one hour of pain (so I'm believing he's referring to loenhout?). Also heard the stories about liévin being a good course for him which helped him make his choice.

THE MOST IMPORTANT QUESTION: When you see how good you are at Maasmechelen or Liévin don't you want to do more cx next winter? What if you gave it all for cx?

Says yeah the belgian crowd would love that but the belgian crowd also loves to see him do well in classics.

"I think towards the end of my career I see myself doing much more cx with a calendar of maybe 15 or 20 cx races again but at this point, all my friends from the road peloton are doing long trainings, long stages already all winter, so when you "lose" (hand gesture) to do cx, it gives a lot of advantages but you lose a lot of training time. It's difficult to find the balance and I think, what Mathieu and I did the last few years is possible, but it's difficult to do more."

Talking about RVV / PR (mostly PR 2023 and how they want to see that Wout again) :

This is what he wants to, he was here many times furing the dinale but many times not even here at the start. Talks about 2020 rvv sprint against Mathieu and how he thought he'd have so many opportunities but we're in 2025, was here in PR 2023 with the puncture but other than that wasn't even here to fight. Kinda says we must let things pass now and it's not easy but he stays focused on the best he can do and what is in his control.

Does opening weekend then 3 weeks training break for flanders classics. Last year, thinks he was maybe in the best form of his life but Yeah the crash. This is why they're trying the same strat this year and he thinks it's the right one.

Asking him which race of his program he wants to win the most:

Cant decide between RVV and PR, he thinks Roubaix is more specialn extraordinary, but as a flemish guy he can't not say RVV.

Doesn't want to choose, but says he's almost 80kg so he likes the flat roads of PR better. But likes the atmosphere of RVV the best out of all races, it's a bit like cross to him.

Race schedule talk. Asked if his more far away objectives (giro / tdf) aren't taking too much space in his mind and his training, comparing it to Mathieu's pinpoint race schedule:

Yes and no, but he's not doing any mountain / ITT training, only classics training until RVV / PR, so he stays focused until mid-april, but it's more about using the good condition he should have at this point to get good Giro results.

Mentions how fucking serious the tour always is with his team and thinks the giro will be more relaxed for him, more opportunities for him to control the race and sprint.

Hautacam dropping Pogi mention:

One extraordinary day in his life when he climbed very well, likes to watch the pictures of that day but he likes the flat routes better ^_^

Jokes that he's gonna win RVV / PR this year and go on vacation for the rest of the year.

Ciclamino/pink jersey objective?

Ciclamino : doesn't really have a goal for it because Olav Kooij is here and it will be complicated to lead him out AND take points in flat sprints. Would rather focus on stage wins.

Objective pink for the Albania start. Is not really interested in keeping it even tho he could keep it for 2 weeks. Thinks it's a waste of time + waste of opportunities for stage wins (not said but bc of not being late into every break obviously) and that he's gonna lose it in the end anyways

He's asked to come again for the last Bistrot Vélo of the season (since this is the first one) where they will discuss his cx planning 😃

#wout van aert #only steve chainel should be allowed to interview him again my guy only cares about the cx schedule #didnt reread anything sorry if there are typos

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citruscitrushope · 11 months ago

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Why Ken Shiraishi is Still Written OK (aka why Vivid BAD SQUAD will never surpass RAD WEEKEND, and why that's a good thing)

An essay I wrote in someone's Twitter DMs as we discussed their belief that Ken's writing has been becoming out of character ever since On Your Feet, and my attempt to present a counter-argument that turned into an analysis of VBS stories up to this point.

1,089 words, warnings for swearing, spoilers, and the fact that this is barely formatted like an essay at all but was just a ramble I thought I gave some good points in and wanted to share.

So bro is openly going against the things that made rw what it was ("ok Toya make all the songs" <- that is not what happened with radder)" and I doubt bro would be full on ignoring it (nor clpl full on ignoring it seeing as they have all of the group's full stories planned from the beginning) and I personally theorize that it's to emphasize the four's strengths as well as to make them come face to face with their weaknesses to grow stronger (I think concerto is the most obvious case of this). Nagi's goal with rw wasn't to make something to be surpassed, it was to pass radder's dream to the next generation to reach the heights they couldn't (i.e. worldwide popularity) and I very much feel like the vbs story has enough backing them going in that direction (Toya's wl chapter, what I've seen of radder flashbacks, even Ken's whole reason for opening weekend garage).

For context, the preceding conversation was about how Ken has been going against a lot of his initial things (Running weekend garage to help the next generation, helping them not work as hard, etc), how he knew Taiga was gonna tell vbs the truth of RAD WEEKEND and that he should first but he didn't, and then how he's been overworking the kids and going against the team effort rw was by radder

Again, clpl kinda suck at writing vbs sometimes but dammit they ain't bad at foreshadowing, they teased Nagi stuff for a year or two before lutf and stuff after all. Plus they've never had a sudden decline with a character, it took two years for Mafuyu's mom to fully be revealed as bad, and even with Taiga that was a solid year. (Now what they do do a lot of are sudden "redemption arcs", sure the Otori brothers' was decent but all the times they've tired to have Shinodad or Toya's dad grow as people has been so bad like bro some people are just shit).

Plus vbs' story has been slower than most of the other units until this current arc (hell they took the longest to end their first arc), slow building blocks to surpassing RAD WEEKEND. So for this current arc to have them saying "our next event will surpass them" so suddenly just doesn't add up. It has to be a red herring. And again, Taiga's been this game's only true betrayal arc, others have been characters going from neutral to bad (Mafumom, one-off characters) or ones meant to be bad that eventually become allies to their respective groups (Arata, Iori, Otori brothers). Taiga going from an explicit ally to an enemy is an outlier, and I've noticed that they usually won't repeat plots and stuff in this game (well outside of Smile of a Dreamer and Our Happy Ending but I think that was on purpose).

I highly doubt that vbs' ending will involve them surpassing RAD WEEKEND, they're probably the only group who's initial goal hadn't changed over time (L/n "I wanna be with my friends again" -> "We wanna be pros that touch others with music". WxS "Let's save this stage" -> "let's travel the world to make our dreams come true" n25 "i need to save mafuyu" -> "she's seemingly saved but shits still tucked"). Even MMJ's which has seemed to always be "Let's be idols and give hope to others" has had steps to go through, it wasn't instantly "Let's perform in the dome" it was "Let's be idols" -> "let's do a live show" -> "let's do a solo show" -> "let's perform in the dome". VBS hasn't been like that, it's always been "let's surpass RAD WEEKEND" and never been anything but that, so their progression has just been them saying "this'll get us closer to surpassing RAD WEEKEND" with little to actually show for it.

It's a lofty, impossible task, and I think Ken and Taiga know that, but they view it in different ways. Taiga sees it as "you'll never live up to it give up stop trying" while Ken's is "you'll never live up to it but that doesn't change that you're still talented performers". Even though how characters always compare each other to radder (An and Taiga seeing Nagi in Kohane, Taiga seeing Ken in Akito) , they're not radder, they'll never be them, and I feel like that's what the story wants to have them and the audience eventually realize. That's what Nagi wanted, right? To have the next generation do what she and the rest of radder couldn't, to keep singing and to be known around the world. They've already contrasted how both Taiga and Ken have attempted to keep Nagi's wishes alive before (i.e. the whole "Don't tell An until she's ready" thing), and Ken handled this better than Taiga but both weren't the best at it, and vbs had to find the strength themselves to keep going. Taiga did it in a brutal and dream-crushing way, while Ken's was gentler and more honest but came too late, and I feel that they wouldn't get rid of that contrast with Nagi's other dream. Taiga ran off and became famous overseas, but never fully processed his grief. Ken is encouraging the next generation, but still isn't doing it perfectly.

So I feel that Ken's plan is to show vbs *their* strengths. The ones only they have. Not in the context of reaching radder's level, but in reaching their own, and truly fulfilling Nagi's wish. He's not doing it perfectly, he's overworking them severely, but I highly doubt that this is purposeful. Again, I just don't think they'd make the dilf have a villain arc.

But nothing anyone has done in response to vbs's dream has been perfect. Even from the main story with akitoya and Kotarou sabotaging Kohane, to Arata in sbd, to Taiga to Arata in bfby, and then lutf is obvious. It's a messy tale of unprocessed grief and unfiltered dreams, things that can lead to both triumph and tragedy. But I truly can't see any malice in Ken's actions, or even Taiga's to an extent. While there obviously was some there, to him I assume it was to protect the legacy of his sister and to not tarnish her swansong.

I don't fully know where I was going with this but all in all I think Ken has good intentions albeit with unintentional extreme expectations, VBS was never meant to surpass RAD WEEKEND, and the vbs story's messy pacing lately is purposeful

#project sekai #vivid bad squad #ken shiraishi #mine ☆#if the person whose dms this in wants this taken down lmk and i'll do it

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tiramisumin · 3 months ago

Text

i see it in your eyes

pairing: park junmin x f!reader 𝜗𝜚 word count: 1.32k 𝜗𝜚 content: fluffish, suggestive towards the end, swearing, best friends to more ig, 🗣️ DIE FOR YOU JUNMIN MENTIONED!!!!!! u have been warned, that performance changes the trajectory of readers life, hunjae stirring the pot before they even know the pot exists, a very Passionate kiss, not beta’d or proofread! u alr know

synopsis: you had never thought of junmin in this light prior to tonight, but you don’t think you could ever see him the same.

୨ৎ watched a fancam that happened to be from one year ago last night and well… let’s just say my fingers had a mind of their own! ur welcome :3

You think you’re going crazy.

Scratch that. You’re positive that you’re going crazy.

One would think that being best friends with Park Junmin of xikers was probably a dream come true. To an extent, you guess you could agree. Junmin was the attentive type. He always had this sixth sense for whenever you needed something. But that was just who he was a person, an idol or not.

Right now, however, you were wishing that you weren’t best friends with Park Junmin.

He, so kindly, invited you to a show of their first tour and as you watch his unit stage with Hunter, you feel yourself slowly descend into insanity. As long as you’ve known him, you have never seen this side of Junmin before. He’s done a pretty good job at separating his idol and personal lives, so even when he was practicing, he’d never let you see. Now you know why.

The way he moves to the song, Die For You by The Weeknd, has your heart stuttering in your chest. You’ve known since his trainee days that he was a good dancer, but for him to evoke such strong emotions from you… Yeah, you were screwed. Royally.

And to put icing on top of the cake, he pulls up his shirt to show the audience his fucking abs.

Under the blue lights and the spell that entrances him every time he performs, Junmin looks breathtaking. Anybody with eyes could see visually that he was attractive, yeah, but for the first time in your friendship, you’re finally seeing it for yourself. His skin glistens ethereally and his expressions capture the mood of the moment perfectly. If you didn’t know better, you’d think you were drooling with how awestruck you are.

Minjae, who was observing the two from off to the side of the stage with you, can’t stop himself from laughing at your reaction. He pats your back as the song draws to a close. The action is supposed to be comforting, yet it’s anything but, considering he was poking fun at you not even two seconds ago. You wish the ground would swallow you whole.

The rest of the concert is kind of a blur, your brain hyper fixating on Junmin’s Die For You performance. Time has long since passed, and the lot of you have found yourselves all crammed in the dorm with a table full of food. Your appetite is hardly there, nerves eating away at you as you sit beside your best friend, unable to look him in the eye.

The two of you haven’t had the chance to talk about the show yet, and you can tell he’s just itching to ask for your opinion. He frowns when he realizes you haven’t touched your plate, something very out of character for you. You’d had an entire discussion about not eating much before the concert so you could enjoy this grand meal with him and his members.

”Is everything—“

Hunter interrupts him with a clearing of his throat. “So, Y/N, how did you like Junmin and I’s stage?”

He wiggles his eyebrows at you and it takes absolutely everything in you not to burst into flames. You dig your nails into your palms before answering. “If your goal was to seduce the crowd, then you guys did a really good job!”

The table erupts into laughter and you silently praise whatever higher being exists that you kept your cool. Minjae makes eye contact with you across the table, pretending to zip his lips and throw the key to the other side of the room. You mouth a ‘thank you’ to him, jumping back into the conversation when someone else asks you about the show.

Ultimately, your dinner continues without a hitch. No one finds out how you truly felt in regards to the Die For You performance, and you assume you’ve made it out scot-free. You should’ve known your best friend was too perceptive for his own good. Especially when it comes to you.

One of the group’s drivers brought you back to your apartment and, of course, Junmin tagged along to ensure you got home safely. The entire drive over there is silent save for whatever music was playing lowly on the radio. There’s a weird tension in the air between you, even as he asks to walk you to your door. As you’re unlocking it, Junmin stops you.

“Did I do something?” He blurts out, halting you from entering your apartment. His hands shove into the pockets of his sweatpants nervously.

“Wh— Huh?”

“You haven’t talked to me much since we got back from the concert. I thought it was just in my head at first, but then we were in the car together and you didn’t say a single word to me. Did I do something to upset you? Please, let me know so I can apologize and never do it again.” He explains.

“No!” You shake your head profusely. “You did nothing wrong, Junmin… I’m just— I’m the one being weird.”

”Can you tell me why at least? It’s gonna bother me all night until you do.” He fiddles with his fingers, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. Part of you is way too embarrassed to admit the true reasoning behind you avoiding him. Though, the bigger part of you is well aware that he would never judge you. And the last thing you need is to keep secrets from your best friend.

“Don’t laugh, okay?” You raise your pinkie, and when he locks it with his own you let out a heavy sigh. “I… can’t stop thinking about the Die For You performance…”

His eyebrows furrow together, eyes cast down at the carpeted floor beneath you in deep thought. God, even when he’s confused, he looks so cute. You might actually explode right here in the middle of the hallway. You had never thought of Junmin in this light prior to tonight, but you don’t think you could ever see him the same. Because of that, you needed to tell him how you felt.

“I don’t underst—“

”I couldn’t stop staring at you, Junmin. You’ve never let me see you that way. You’re always so modest and so shy and I don’t know I— seeing you let go of that on stage, seeing how confident you can be made me feel…” You trail off, averting his intense gaze.

He takes a step closer to you, unwavering when his index finger slides under your chin, lifting it so you’re forced to look at him again. “‘Made you feel’ what exactly?”

Your lips part in surprise, that same confidence from earlier controlling him. His eyes are darker than usual. You swallow thickly when you say, “Like I could fall in love with you.”

Junmin wastes no time connecting your lips in a sweet, passionate kiss. Despite never imagining what it would be like to be in this situation, it’s somehow simultaneously everything you thought it would be. Sparks ignite from where your mouths meet all the way to the tips of your fingers. One of his hands comes up to cup your jaw and the other rests on your waist. Meanwhile, one of yours tangles in his hair and the other fists at the front of his shirt— fittingly a white tank top.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he whispers against your lips, eyelashes brushing your cheeks. “How long I’ve been waiting for you to look at me this way.”

It’s difficult not to gasp into his kiss, a small whine escaping you. Perhaps they weren’t lying when they said boys and girls could never just be friends. You slot your lips with his once more before parting gently, peering up at him with the softest of smiles. “Then show me.”

He doesn’t think twice about urging you into your apartment.

#xikers #xikers x reader #xikers junmin #park junmin #park junmin x reader #junmin x reader #xikers drabbles #junmin drabbles #𐙚 tiramisumin

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lorre-verie · 2 years ago

Note

i NEED more recent neteyam content from you, the 5 stages of love thing was just- UGH mwah mwah i love it

can i request neteyam x reader where neteyam's jealous bc reader has been hanging out with other people? but please make the ending happy, i beg (im recovering from your aonung series antics 😭)

everything else is completely up to you i trust ur judgement so much 🥰

tysm anon AAAAA made me smile so much after reading this, i hope dearly that it doesn't disappoint!

“I will always love you.”

🗝 oneshot summary: seems you’ve been paying other people a whole lot more attention lately, and it’s making your dear boyfriend feel uneasy (jealous) inside. blablabla sweetie pie stuff happens, by the end of the night u two are cuddly lovey dovey again 💗

🌿 the lovely couple: neteyam x reader

📓 notes! - reader’s gender is not specified + no implications + no given name (used: [Y/N]) - takes place in the forest

🎞 word count: 2.3k

masterlist

“Yo bro!” Lo’ak waved towards his older brother, Neteyam’s hair whipping around with his head as he turned to see what Lo’ak wanted.

“What?”

He was in the middle of rebraiding his hair in his family’s marui, something he would’ve asked you to do if he could even find you in the first place.

Lately, you’d been really absorbed with developing your hunting skills, something he respected and never thought twice about, until now.

“Did you and [Y/N] break up?”

“What would even make you think such a thing like that?” He completely abandoned his delicate ministrations through his hair, looking at his brother like he was insane. But deep down inside, he kinda wondered if you did too.

He rarely saw you these days, except for those fleeting moments where you two would wave at each other when passing by, and whenever he visited your tent you were never there. If he asked your friends they would constantly say you were out hunting, and he dropped his attempts at trying to find you.

But seriously, hunting for almost the whole day for almost 3 weeks? There had to be SOMETHING else you’d been doing.

“I never see you together anymore. N’ I heard from their friends there’s someone called Akxyeì in the picture. But if you did, there’s no shame in it bro, it’s all goo—”

Neteyam kicked him out of the tent.

He huffed as he finished braiding his hair, not bothering to give it a last look before stomping out in search of you. Who the hell was Akxyeì??

Deep in his chest came a mixture of doubts and emotions regarding your relationship— had he not been showing you how much he loved you? How come you had to hang out with some other stupid dude? What if it was even worse, what if you were beginning to lose your interest in him? He would die without you, honestly.

Or what if it was even worse, what if this Akxyeì character manipulated you into falling for him? He didn’t know whether what he was feeling was anger or sadness. But I’ll sum it up for you.

Envy.

Everyone stared at him as he stormed into the forest, the expression on his face taut and unreadable. The gossipping elders immediately got into their little groups, discussing what could possibly happen to the two of you in great interest.

Not mud nor rain stopped him from tracking you, crouching along the forest floor, sniffing through the strong smell of rain in order to pick up your scent. The moment he found it, he bit back a growl; an unfamiliar scent was there with you.

He placed his hand on his forehead, taking deep breaths before heading in the direction you were supposed to be, reaching what the omaticayans dubbed the ‘lovers lake.’ He frowned remembering the nickname.

Lo and behold, his love was crouched under a large leaf just near the opposite edge of the lake, a lovely smile on your face, like always, as you looked at the rain splashing in puddles on the dirt in front of you.

Just the sight of you made his heart soar. But his mood quickly plummeted back down once he saw a na’vi boy crouched down behind you, also laughing at the predicament you were both in.

He had half a mind to take his bow and shoot him in the crotch to ensure he wouldn’t ever be able to clone himself, but he had to bite back the urge. Instead, he resorted to letting out a heavy sigh.

Just then, you looked up, eyes meeting with his as he stood far across the lake. A pang of guilt ran down your body, but it wasn’t like you were doing anything wrong, right? So then why did your heart drop fifty feet into the ground?

Akxyeì’s laughter stopped once he saw the deathly stare Neteyam was giving him, which your boyfriend was satisfied with. But not satisfied enough.

He turned his back on you both, disappearing into the thin fog that was starting to cloud the forest.

“..I have to go.” you whispered to Akxyeì, before diving head first into the lake to catch up with Neteyam.

The only thing you thought about besides holding your breath was how angry Neteyam must’ve been with you. He totally misunderstood the situation, and it pained your heart to think of what he was thinking right now. You had to explain yourself as soon as possible.

You frantically searched through the camp, your heart racing with worry and fear. Light pitter patters of rain land on your face, causing you to wipe it every few seconds in order to be able to see. You called out Neteyam's name in every spot imaginable, even his own family’s marui, but he wasn’t there.

As you made your way from tent to tent, you couldn’t help but feel a sinking feeling of worry weighing down on your shoulders.

You checked the hunting groups, but Neteyam was nowhere to be seen. You asked the elders if they had seen him, but they claimed to not know anything.

You were drenched from head to toe from your swim earlier, and the wind didn’t make it any better, shivers threatening to stop your search. The nosy elders murmured harshly at the sight of you this way, according to them you always seemed so put together.

You finally make your way back to your own tent, hoping that maybe he might have gone there. Although it was unlikely, it was the only spot in camp you hadn’t checked. But as you pushed aside the flap, you were met with your empty home, no sign of your boyfriend anywhere.

Panic began to set in as you realised that he was truly gone. You sat down, fingers pressed to your lips as you took in a deep breath, thinking of all the possible places he could be.

He wasn’t anywhere in camp, so that would have to mean he was still out in the forest. But where? You couldn’t possibly—

Ah.

He might be at you guys' spot.

You hadn’t been there in what felt like years. It was where he asked to be your boyfriend. It was so silly of him; a smile crept up on your face as you hopped up through the trees, reminiscing the day.

You were both admiring the night sky together, counting the stars, and he suddenly whispered, “Can I be your boyfriend?”

Even now, he denies ever uttering those words, claiming it was a figment of your imagination, and that you heard what you wanted to hear. But you remembered vividly the way he nearly fell off the trunk of the tree when you said yes.

The grass underneath you turned into soft clumps of moss as you continued, the rain slowly stopping as eclipse took over the sky. Finally, you reached the two intertwining trees, standing underneath the archway.

You didn’t have time to look up before you heard his voice among the cricketing insects.

“[Y/N].” he said, his voice as low as a sigh, your ears flattening once you heard the utter distress from his throat.

You said nothing, instead climbing up the slanted tree, crouching and setting aside the leaves covering your view.

And there he was, in all his glory.

Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan.

His feet dangled over the edge of the tree trunk, his hands planted firmly at his sides. He was hunched over, staring blankly at the ground at which you stood before.

“Neteyam—” you were barely able to finish saying his name before he interrupted you.

“Did I do something?” he croaked out, his gaze fixed downwards.

“What?” you blinked. What was he saying?

“Of course not,” you said softly, sitting on a spot on the tree just inches from him, you looking directly at his crestfallen face.

A tear ran down his cheek, reflected by the lights of the stars in the night. He wiped it away quickly, now looking to his left, so that you were met with only the back of his head.

Your heart dropped at the sound of his sniffles. “Neteyam, Akxyeì is just a friend,” you started, trying to formulate the best way to try and explain the situation to him and then beg for his forgiveness.

“It’s not about that.” he sucked in a breath in attempt to calm himself down.

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

Your heart felt like it was splitting into two.

You’d constantly been reassuring yourself that you weren’t avoiding him, you were just hanging out with your own separate group of friends, but in truth you basically had been.

“I’m not avoiding you,” you paused, sighing as you faced the fact that you were going to have to be truly honest with him about your feelings now.

“I just…wanted to be seen.”

At those words, he turned towards you, eyes glistening with tears. “Wh…What do you mean by that?”

“With them, I feel like what I always wanted to be— A strong, brave warrior with talent. With them, I feel like I can just truly be myself, and I don’t have to hold back.”

He looked at you, beckoning you to go on.

Your eyes flickered down, unable to meet his eyes as you continued, “Sometimes when I’m out with you I feel like I have to keep up appearances. You’re the next olo’eyktan, the next leader for our people, and I feel like I’m always in your shadow.”

“I get comments from the elders like, “How is it dating the next in line for Olo’eyktan???”” you mocked their shrill voices with a face as you quoted their exact words, the corner of your boyfriend’s lips twitching up in amusement.

“So..I don’t know. When I finally was seen as a leader myself, with Akxyeì and the others, it felt like I was…free. Free from the expectations that other people put on me.” you bit your lip, imagining how selfish you must’ve sounded to him right now.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Neteyam part his lips slightly.

“..I never knew you felt that way,” he half whispered, looking down at his hand and yours, suddenly aching to intertwine your fingers together.

“It’s..not that I didn’t like being with you, you make me so happy,” you let a small smile appear on your face, “It’s just that it makes me feel worse about myself when people only care that I’m your partner. They don’t see me.”

“So…that’s why I’ve been hanging out with my other friends,” the air felt awkward after you finished, and you felt like you had to add on to your words so that the atmosphere didn’t feel so..empty.

“ I’m sorry I didn’t tell you anything before.”

“.....So I take it you’re still in love with me?”

You looked up at his totally unserious response, slightly baffled. He had a childishly wide grin on his face. The tears from earlier had already dried up, leaving no trace behind.

Your mouth was open in surprise of his lighthearted reaction. Had he even heard anything you just said?

“Just so you know, Akxyeì is totally not more attractive than me,” he pushed on, determined to see one thing and one thing only.

Your beautiful smile.

And his not-so-cunning ploy worked, as a little grin made its way up onto your face.

He placed his hand on top of yours, slightly gripping your fingers. “But in all seriousness, I’m sorry too.”

His mesmerising eyes were widened ever so slightly, as if he was trying to take in more of the sight of you.

“For what?” you mouthed, the volume of your words barely above a hum.

“For not noticing how you felt. I’m supposed to be good at gauging other people’s emotions–” he sighed, before you stopped him mid sentence with one of your fingers to his lips.

“That’s why I didn’t want to tell you anything. I was worried you’d feel even more pressured with having to worry about me too, besides everything else already going on,” you tilted your head downwards, glancing once more at the barely illuminated bark you sat on..

You wanted to tell him more, to explain further, but the doe look in his eyes as he gently took your finger off his mouth with his free hand told you he’d already understood everything.

He flipped your hand around, placing a soft kiss on your wrist, maintaining full eye contact with you as he did it. The motion sent butterflies raging frantically in your stomach, the thrill causing you to blush slightly.

“So. Tell me more about your friends.” he smirked, knowing the full extent of his charm and what it did to you.

You breathed out, nodding before sitting directly next to him, your hips touching his. You began to recite to him all the fun little adventures you had with your hunting group, and the stupid things Akxyeì would get himself into.

You couldn’t help but smirk a little bit whenever you felt Neteyam’s hand tighten its grip around yours whenever you mentioned the other boy.

“And then, one other time- Teyam?” you felt his head weigh on your shoulder. Was he…asleep?

A small pause followed as you stopped talking, and you just froze completely before narrowing your eyes.

“..You aren’t asleep, are you?” you rolled your eyes, feeling a chuckle vibrate on your shoulder from his throat.

You always knew how to read him, and he found it amusing that you were the only person he could never fool. It just added onto his everlasting appreciation for you.

You watched him as he pulled his head up off your shoulder, smiling as he looked at your face with such fondness that it made you feel weightless.

“I love you, [Y/N].”

masterlist

aw how sweet 😊 isn’t that so sweet?? i'm so sorry if this genuinely sucked ass cause i have no clue how to write sweet stuff..but thank u so much for your req anon! thank u all for 500+ followers, it truly means so much to me guys 😭🙏

i hope you guys enjoyed this! as always, thank u for stopping by my blog 💗💚

much love, lorre.

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the-bi-space-ace · 5 months ago

Text

Not Yet, Anyway

Summary: Echo wakes in a panic. Thankfully someone is there to soothe his racing thoughts.

Warnings: discussion of panic, brief mention of blood.

Based off of this post I really couldn’t help but write something for it.

@saturn-sends-hugs this is a gift for you, friend <3

Echo woke with a gasp, a gut punch, almost a garble. For a second he thought blood was in his throat, skin burning as flame licked him, a scream right on the edge of his tongue. Then the rumbling of a ship’s engine reminded him of where he was. The Marauder. Clone Force 99. Safe. But why didn’t he feel like it? With a grunt Echo pulled himself up, hammock swinging precariously while his lungs tried to pump air through him. The dreams wouldn’t leave him be no matter how hard he tried. Days of waking up near panic left him fatigued, wanting for sleep but rarely letting it take him. Echo swung his legs out of the hammock and dropped onto the floor. He grabbing the side of one of the bunks for balance and tried to steady his heartbeat. Everyone else should be asleep - Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair all dozing peacefully - but Echo needed something. What that something was he wasn’t sure but he had to get out of that hammock. He couldn’t go to the cockpit, not while Tech was on watch. Maybe he could switch with him, take over the night watch so he could stay awake. Anything to keep those images away. Anything to make the night pass by without his heart beating out of his chest.

“Gonna keep standing there or are you going to sit down before you topple over?” Without meaning to Echo flinched. Crosshair was awake - apparently - and was staring at him passively. He was sitting on a lower bunk, back against the wall with some sort of flimsi pad in his lap, a pencil held between his fingers. How did Echo not notice him?

Echo shook his head. “No, I’m-” He took a second to swallow the rough feeling in his throat but nearly choked on it. Crosshair’s eyes flickered away from him and to the book in his hand.

”Sit down before you break something. I won’t be peeling you off the floor when you pass out.” Crosshair said, voice low. Echo bristled at the insinuation but couldn’t quite argue. His head was starting to feel light and that tight ball of panic hadn’t lessened in his chest. After a few gulps of air Echo moved until he could sit on the edge of the bottom bunk, scooting back until he was mimicking Crosshair’s position, head tilted back against the wall.

Silence spread between them and Echo’s mind spun. Sitting was a bad idea. Nothing to distract him meant more racing thoughts and those thoughts meant more constriction in his lungs, and if he couldn’t breathe then what was he supposed to-

“Look,” Crosshair urged with a tap of his pencil on the page. Another instruction didn’t come, instead he waited while Echo blinked the stinging emotion out of his eyes and tilted his head until he could see what was being pointed out to him. On the page was the beginning stages of what looked like their ship. There were a few spots where it was clear Crosshair had to erase and redraw but the lines were strong and confident, details already littering the page. The entire drawing was about half way done but he wasn’t sure if Crosshair liked to do more than sketch. Crosshair used his pencil to trace along lines he’d already created, pointing out what he wanted. “It’s more cramped than I’d like it to be but I finally got the whole ship to fit on one page. See, there’s the window to the cockpit and the partial view of the gunner’s mount.” He put the lead to paper again and started adding some details to the wings. A few lines were added to detail the little dent on the wing facing them. Echo took in a deep breath in time with the pencil and let it out, feeling the ache in his gut lessen.

Echo pointed to the page with his scomp. “It looks good. Don’t forget to add the paint splatter from Wrecker’s mishap.” His voice came out scratchy, as if sandpaper was wrapped around his throat, but Crosshair paid it no mind. He hummed, adding the outline for the splatter, then moving on to shade in some of the underside. Echo watched and his fear drifted by. There was something hypnotizing about that pencil, the way it sounded as it scratched along the paper. The panic gave way to frustration and Echo had to wrap his arms around himself to attempt to soothe it away. He’d inserted himself without thinking enough about it and now he was intruding, already making suggestions, why couldn’t he just-

Crosshair let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Your brain runs as much as your mouth, huh?” He asked. Rude. Echo rolled his eyes, looking away.

“I’m sorry. It was just…” The dreams. He should go back to bed. No, not back to bed. Going back to bed would be a bad idea. He should… he should leave Crosshair alone at least, do something else.

”No need to spill your guts.” Crosshair stretched, shifting until his leg was resting firmly against Echo’s. “Not yet, anyway.” Echo swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and tried to focus on the constant pressure instead. Crosshair went back to drawing confident lines on the page, tipping the book towards Echo to ask about how it looked every so often. It was kind of odd, sitting in the dim light watching Crosshair draw a damn good sketch of their ship, but that feeling was less discomfort and more adjustment. He didn’t close his eyes again, not that night, but he considered it when fatigue yanked at his bones once more. He preferred to be up anyway, watching, whispering suggestions, anything to keep his thoughts from spiraling back to the darkness that lined them.

Crosshair did a good job of that.

#space chatter #the bad batch #tbb echo #tbb crosshair #the bad batch fanfiction #WAIT I LOVE THEM SO MUCH #queue t pie

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junk-story · 11 months ago

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Interview: Ongaku to Hito and Sakurai Atsushi - Ichikawa Tetsushi x Kanemitsu Hiroshi, Part I

This interview is on pages 52-57 of the magazine. Footnotes are included in numbered parentheses and can be found at the bottom. Part II of this interview can be found here.

~~~~~~~

From the establishment of the magazine in 1993 to the present day, we are proud to say that, in the 356 releases of Ongaku to Hito, Sakurai Atsushi had the highest number of appearances. Including things like live reports and columns, the count of appearances is close to 130 times. We feel that it’s probable that this number will never be beaten by anyone else. Now, you may be asking why a person such as Sakurai Atsushi was so loved by Ongaku to Hito’s editorial department for such a long time. And, why he, too, responded to us as he did. The first editor-in-chief, Ichikawa, who came to see the incomplete Sakurai of the 20th Century, and the third editor-in-chief, Kanemitsu, who saw the process of his expressive style come to completion in the 21st century, discuss together what Sakurai Atsushi was to Ongaku to Hito.

Kanemitsu: When was the first time you met Sakurai-san?

Ichikawa: When I was working as editor-in-chief in Nagoya for Town Magazine. I was working as the Western music critic, but it was a town magazine, so I thought we needed to do Japanese music as well.

Kanemitsu: It was right when the first Band Boom(1) was going on, right?

Ichikawa: Right. And at that time, there was an older promoter from Victor’s Nagoya Sales Office that had come to do this over-the-top promotion of these new bands. I had no interest in them, but the way he made his sales pitch was very skilled. He was like, ‘Even though they have this sort of gaudy visual style, the melody is like a tulip.” (wry laugh)

Kanemitsu: (laughs) It certainly had that scent to it in the early days.

Ichikawa: At the time of their debut, Sakurai Atsushi didn’t really have the basics down of being a vocalist yet, but then, don’t Japanese people love the sound of a natural bass voice with a slightly sweet quality to it? However, behind that, there were a lot of strange wailing guitars, and I ended up taking an interest in them; I decided to do an interview with them, and the ones who came were Sakurai and Hoshino.

Kanemitsu: The person who was playing the weird guitar wasn’t there! (laughs)

Ichikawa: Moreover, even though they came with their hair standing up and in their full stage gear, no matter what I asked the two of them, they would only nod their heads shyly in agreement; it was a situation where they were like a “fleet of silence”. That overwhelming difference was so funny.

Kanemitsu: And the next time was in Tokyo?

Ichikawa: At Rocking on Japan. After interviewing Imai, I was kidnapped by Roppongi’s BOO!WHO?WOO!, and that was where I drank for the first time with Sakurai. For the following month’s issue, we had planned to do it with Sakurai and Anii, but on the day of the interview, we received communication that Sakurai’s mother had suddenly passed away and he wanted to hurry back home to Gunma, so in Sakurai’s place, Imai was to do the interview. When I went to the scene of the interview, feeling sympathetic for the whole situation, for some reason, Sakurai was there.

Kanemitsu: What?

Ichikawa: I asked him, “What’s the matter?(2)” and he said, “I thought I should come to properly greet you and ask you to please excuse me [for missing the interview].”

Kanemitsu: A good person who really respects the social hierarchy.

Ichikawa: It’s a good story, right? (laughs) Even though this man is this sort of flashy frontman, he doesn’t talk much and acts seriously.(3)

Kanemitsu: I really think so too.

Ichikawa: And then, as early as the next issue, Sakurai did a 20,000 character interview.

Kanemitsu: …for the No Blood, No Tears magazine.

Ichikawa: Wahahaha. As you might expect, I suppose I couldn’t touch on anything regarding his mother. When we sat down and had a thorough discussion, he was bad at speaking, but trying with all his might to do it. What came from that was how his adolescence was a rather empty(4) time.

Kanemitsu: After he graduated from high school, he went to work in a factory, correct?

Ichikawa: Yes, that. At a car factory, the job he did was screwing parts together as they came through, but it was like he agonized over it, thinking, “…why am I continuing to do something like this?” That sort of difficult-to-express feeling can really pull the heartstrings of readers, I think.

Kanemitsu. That became the heart of Sakurai’s lyrics.

Ichikawa: Yeah. That’s where it begins, you know, the “What am I?” series. Understanding that there is something there, but not being able to explain it well. So it can only be written as lyrics and sung. In search of an escape, an endless journey of self-discovery began.

Kanemitsu: Interviews became Sakurai-san’s therapy.

Ichikawa: I was his therapist, or, like his infinite hitting partner for wondering about things to himself. At the interview location, through talking with me, he would organize his thoughts and then verbalize them. It was like this repeatedly. And we couldn’t google information like we can now, and in the first place, there wouldn’t be an answer anywhere even if we did google it. So we ended up with lyrics like “Namida ukabete Deca-dance (eng: “deca-dance with tears in my eyes”) in Maboroshi no Miyako, and the kids that listened to it wrote us letters while crying, asking, “What kind of dance is this?!” (wry laugh)

Kanemitsu: The fans, readers, and even he himself didn’t understand.

Ichikawa: I think it was just that, even if you couldn’t comprehend it, the emptiness that Sakurai carried drew everyone to him. Like something a person instinctively sympathizes with deeply.

Kanemitsu: At that time, Ongaku to Hito was laying the groundwork for the beginning of an idea to materialize for him.

Ichikawa: Ultimately. (laughs) However, I think he also perhaps didn’t completely understand it.

Kanemitsu: Agreed. Sakurai-san himself tried reading [Charles] Baudelaire’s “The Flowers of Evil” and said he was frustrated by the second page. (laughs)

Ichikawa: That’s right. But, I think he had this indulgence of, “I’m good in the darkness, the emptiness in me is obvious.” So I called Sakurai Atsushi, “The Appeal of Self-Deprecation.” That’s because the lyrics written by the Sakurai Atsushi of the 20th century had these desperate contents of “I’m no good, no good, I’m NO GOOD” all throughout them.

Kanemitsu: But in Kurutta Taiyou, using the sun as a motif, I think he became able to view himself from a bird’s-eye view. And his mother’s existence is at the root of him.

Ichikawa: That complexity is the foundation of Sakurai’s work, right? But he couldn’t use it consciously as a technique. Making Kurutta Taiyou, I think even he could probably see and noticed that. And so then, when a year passed and he was face to face with the new release’s lyrics, he was back to square one again. Every time, he ended up returning back to the source.

Kanemitsu: It never became like, “I wrote this before, so I should do it like this next time”, did it?

Ichikawa: Right. Other musicians are more carefree when writing their lyrics, aren’t they? Once they’ve fallen into their own style, the only discussion is about if they should update it. Kanemitsu: When writing lyrics, do you always have to face yourself, or –

Ichikawa: You can’t escape it. On the other hand, that sort of work has some troublesome aspects to it, so I can’t dislike someone for not doing it. (wry laugh)

Kanemitsu: Meaning?

Ichikawa: The Sakurai Atsushi of the 20th century, and I think this could also be said for all of BUCK-TICK, had no progress - in a good way. Thanks to Imai’s desire for “wanting to put out strange sounds”, there was change every time, but in the lyrics, it was three steps forward and three steps back repeatedly. Because they’d make an album, go on tour, and all the time after that, the 5 of them spent drinking.

Kanemitsu: 365 days of the same cycle repeatedly. (laughs) There was an extremely low amount of [external] input, so there ended up being an absolute need for them to do the work to re-examine themselves.

Ichikawa: This continued the entire time. But, there can be no mistake that this shaped Sakurai’s unique lyrics’ worldview. One always ends up going back to the basics. It was a moratorium, in a good sense.

Kanemitsu: But they didn’t run away.

Ichikawa: That’s because Sakurai was a kind man. He knew better than anyone what would happen if he ran away. So no matter how driven into a corner he was, the one thing he would never sacrifice was the band.

Kanemitsu: I see.

Ichikawa: His rare charm was that the self-indulgent Sakurai Atsushi and the Sakurai Atsushi who took stoicism to its limit both existed together. So this troubled him, and he wanted to run away, but he didn’t. He faced things stoically, so this troubling feeling of wanting to run away is reflected in his lyrics.

Kanemitsu: In the 21st century, he began to act that part consciously. Taking himself to the limit and despairing that he was no good, no good. He would not face the lyrics while exhausted, but instead deepened his expression of them through the premise of acting them out.

Ichikawa: It may have been a shock, but in short, their material elevated(5). Really, because they were able to turn their work into art, we can grasp now how they were able to bring forth a decadent rock masterpiece like 21st Cherry Boy. Although that kind of dark decadence is seen as a negative, they established it as an excellent form of entertainment, which is fantastic. When I listened to that, I wondered, “Why has Sakurai made a breakthrough to this point?” What did you make of that?

~~~~~~~

Footnotes:

(1) This refers to the period of time in the late '70s-’80s where the sort of distinct, Japanese-but-Western-but-neither-but-both style of bands were increasing in popularity and number. Bands like BUCK-TICK came out of this boom. (2) In the sense of like, “What are you doing here?” (3) This can also mean “genuine”. I think both words suit the context, and I’m not sure which meaning he intends. (4) “Empty” here is in a negative context - an emptiness of meaning, fulfillment. (5) “Elevated” here is a word I don’t think translates well into English. This word, in chemistry, also means “to sublimate” - like when something goes from a solid state to a gaseous state, without passing through the liquid state first. I think it’s helpful to imagine this in the use of “elevating” here, too - a sudden, jolting step up from where things were before.

This made sense as a logical cutoff point because the interview slowly starts turning to Kanemitsu's experience in the 21st century with Sakurai from here. I'll include Ichikawa's question at the start of Part II, just to keep things clear.

#buck tick #sakurai atsushi #ongaku to hito #buck-tick #quartz translates

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chiarrara · 1 month ago

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1, 7, 13 for the wip game

1. Current WIP

vampire megumi au <3333 which, I am still insane about, but my mind has been elsewhere for a few days. tbh this started as a daydream plot that I just wanted to write for writing's sake, something easy, campy, and fun, just so I could prove to myself I could do it. but it kind of got away from me. it became too big and important, and now it feels like it's getting stifled under this arbitrary expectation of perfection that I wanted to write this work to avoid.

It's this hole I feel like I fall into with so many things and I really want to figure out how to get out of it, because it'd rather have something out there that's just okay, than never get it done because it had to be flawless. and I think y'all that have been interested in it want that too. I don't feel like I can really learn how to write, like the actual active process of it, if I'm cutting myself off before I even get started. so I want to figure it out. some metatextual angst for you on that one, i guess

7. WIP that is my "no one understands him/her/them like I do"

I think this one has to go to the oldest of all my WIPs, my 2017 conceived and plotted Otayuri friends-to-lovers best fic I've never written, that I to this day have never given up on.

It originally came about from my conflicted feelings about the anit-shipping, and specifically anti-Otayuri, discourse that was really taking off at the time. Obviously, that discussion has grown to absolutely eclipse the level it was at back then, and my feelings on the subject have evolved a lot as well, but at the time, I found myself feeling conflicted over the arguments that were being presented and I wasn't sure how to reconcile them with my own thoughts and feelings. So, I gave the problem to the characters to work out instead, and it became one of my favorite things my mind has ever created.

The timeline spans 3-4 years post-canon , it covers multiple relationships, deals with the blurry lines between love and friendship, and explores how to move forward when you're not on the same page or even in the same stage in life. And it's all drafted pen-to-paper, so I still have it :) This notebook is like gold to me, it's one of my most treasured possessions, I try to keep it safe wherever I go. I love this story a whole lot, so It would make me really sad to never actually get to write it. I hope someday soon I finally feel ready to dive in and tackle it <3

13. WIP I started to torture my blorbos (including me)

I was trying to think of one for this, because I don't really write straight up angst too much or whump?? or whatever it's called, like really really painful shit for the sake of it, but then I remembered I had this daydream plot going for a while that was post-canon, and Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara moved into an apartment together with like, whatever Zenin money Megumi would be able to collect post-massacre. And the whole thing was basically Megumi with severe PTSD, becoming overly-attached to Yuuji, sort of twisting the whole idea of living for someone else into Yuuji being the only thing he stays alive for.

In general, I like to explore Megumi post-Shinjuku because I feel like a lot of what he would reasonably go through is hand-waved or brushed off so things can reach a new status quo at the end of the manga, which is fine, but I think there's a lot there that could be explored. Especially as a parallel to Geto, like what does it look like to survive past the point that you break kind of thing. I sort of started doing that in you can't find the words to say and if I ever continued that I could probably combine the two ideas....they might have actually been the same thing to start with, now that I think about it. But I don't really like that fic that much right now, so if I follow up on it, I think it'd be good to take another pass at it.

#okay second try! it's going out this time. the original is lost to the wind but my heart is still in this one. i hope you appreciate <3 #hmbomt #itafushi #otayuri #vampire megumi au #megumi fushiguro

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girl-in-a-bubbl3 · 7 months ago

Text

Glamrock Monty (FNAF) x Reader Part 1

Notes:

AU Fanfic/NonCanon

Takes place after the fire

Animatronics are redesigned sorta

Sun/Moon are the same animatronic

Will probably be some spicy parts so...18+

No use of y/n, your name is Beanie now

Will probably be multiple relationships (I love Monty and Sun/Moon both way too much plz don't make me choose)

Monty saw her before she saw him.

She was a tiny thing. Maybe 5 ft tall with long green hair up in a ponytail that swayed every time she walked. She had tiny little dots on her face, like freckles, except they were multicolored.

All of her accessories seemed to mirror the themes of the Plex. Her earrings were different. Dangling from the left ear was what looked like a Sundrop candy wrapper, one of the Daycare candies, and the right ear was the same except with a Moondrop wrapper.

What stuck out to him the most was the red, star shaped glasses that you had perched atop your head. They weren’t purple, like his, but you knew it was a nod to him.

Monty stared down at you from the balcony in the atrium. He was definitely intrigued.

As he was staring down at you, Monty became lost in thought. Not noticing when you looked up and locked eyes with him.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

Today was your first day.

Sort of.

Ever since the fire that happened two years ago, you’ve been onsite helping with rebuilding the Plex and the animatronics who got caught up in the evil plans of humans.

You still weren’t clear on everything that happened. You just got a call one day from a very kind but monotonous lady who told you that your uncle had passed and the Plex was now yours to go further with, if you so chose.

You hadn’t spoken to said uncle in almost a decade. He wasn’t very interested in the family, just his machines. You didn’t know much about him and when he made it big in Fazbear entertainment, he left the family to fend for themselves in a failing economy.

So finding out that everything was left to you was more than a shock. It took you over a week of weighing pros/cons and investigating to ensure it was something you could do. The one thing your uncle and yourself had in common: Robotics was your greatest passion.

You spoke to him about it only once before you went off to college for Mechatronics but the fever in your eyes must have been enough to convince him that you would continue what he started.

And you would. But you’d try to do so, so much better.

Fazbear Entertainment had a history of violence, cover ups, coercion, and a lot of corruption. That was something you aimed to change. It was something you didn’t really had to worry much about with rebuilding the Plex because that was simple but when it came to the animatronics…

The repairs, recoding, and reinstallation of new and old parts took you a whole year and a half. You worked from the time you woke up to whatever time you would end up passing out. The more you read the manuals, wrote your own manuals, and spent time with the unconscious animatronics, the more you could see how easy it was to get attached. Something you were so unsure of turned into the center of your whole world.

You had a little apartment built for yourself that was connected to your office so you didn’t have to worry about commutes anymore. The Plex was now your home too.

You had been gone for the past three months. You missed the animatronics waking up again because you had to be in meetings to discuss the politics of reopening the Mega Plex. That hit your heart. You spent so long getting things ready and you weren’t even the first to reintroduce them to the place that they had worked in for so long now.

You trusted the handful of mechanics that was over that, but it just wasn’t the same. And the grand reopening was in a week so today you were finally back to introduce yourself and have some time with the ones you had grown so attached to, unbeknownst to them.

As you approached the stage where your colleague was introducing you, you couldn't help but feel every eye on you as you approached the stage to make your welcome speech. You had received an ungodly amount of criticism since you took over the Plex in your location.

At 27, you were old enough for people to consider what you said but still young enough for everyone to think that they knew better. You were covered in tattoos and always kept your hair dyed an unnatural color. Multiple piercings in your face and you had to always have your favorite accessories flashing (it just so happened that most of those pieces were Fazbear specific). You were never seen without your rose colored, star shaped glasses. You weren't exactly the image of professionalism.

Stepping up and standing to wait for your colleague to stop talking, you happened to look around and take a quick peak at everyone around. There were about 30 or so human staff members. Janitors, other mechanics, stage hands, etc. And then you saw the animatronics. Your heart skipped a beat as you recalled all of the work you put in to each of them.

You tried to keep as much of their original personalities intact as you could when filling in the gaps that the virus left. You did change their casings. You wanted them to be even more realistic than they were. Freddy, Chica, and Roxy got hundreds of tiny little fibers that gave them that extra soft feeling that fur would. Monty was fun because he got hundreds of individual scales and the design made him virtually impenetrable with the tough, but smooth reptile skin. You didn’t alter much with Sun/Moon except for allowing their faceplates to move and change instead of the one specific smile that they were forced to keep. You figured you’d talk with them personally about more alterations since the daycare attendant was a little more sensitive than the others.

Freddy was sitting forward in his chair, trying to give the speaker his upmost attention. Chica was by the refreshment table, obviously sneaking snacks. Nothing new there. Roxy was sitting beside Freddy with her arms crossed, examining her fingernails, looking bored. You didn't see the daycare attendant and immediately a little of seed of worry started to sprout inside of your stomach. You'd have to go check out the daycare after this.

Monty was also missing. You searched around the atrium and didn't see his large, scaley figure. You happened to quickly glance up and your eyes locked onto a large, green figure leaning against the railing on the third floor of the atrium. Monty's expression was hazy as he stared at you, almost like he was waking up from a dream.

After a moment, it's like he finally realized you were also staring at him. He quickly looked away and scampered off until you could no longer see where he was. You made a mental note to check on him later as well.

“Welcome our new Director, Beanie!”

That was your cue. You stepped on up with a large smile and took the microphone. “It’s so nice to see you all, especially our animatronic friends! We’ve all worked so hard to be here right now. It’s been two long years and a lot of dedication.”

The rest of your speech was pretty generic but you still tried to be as inspiring as possible. You truly did have the biggest sense of pride looking around the Plex and it definitely reflected in your voice. So no matter what you said, the promise of the future reflected in your voice.

After everything was over and employees started to disperse, you couldn’t get the absent animatronics out of your mind. You excused yourself from the last bit of conversation and headed off towards the Daycare.

You were a little nervous since this was your first time meeting the Daycare Attendant but only because you definitely had a soft spot for the twins. Something about their presence was enough to hide the past trauma that always presented itself to the forefront of your brain at the worst times.

You worked so hard to make sure the daycare would be up to their standards when they returned to it. It was the area you spent the most time in. Fortunately enough, the fire didn’t touch their room. You decided to keep it exactly as they had it but you did add a furniture catalog so they could request anything extra that they needed. You knew your uncle never gave any of them that option.

You entered the daycare lobby and briefly marveled at the familiar bronze statue of Sun and Moon in the center. It was one of your favorite pieces that was a part of the daycare so of course you kept it.

You decided to use the normal entrance instead of the ultra fun slide that the kids would eventually use once the Plex reopened. You’d definitely tested it out more times than you could count when you were unaccompanied so you figured you could use the main entrance for now.

Approaching the large, wooden doors you stood for a moment and took a deep breath. Before you could even reach for the handle, the door in front of you flew open and in front of you stood a lanky, 7 ft tall, sun themed animatronic.

To be continued...

Author's Notes:

Hi guys!! So sorry this chapter is so incredibly long. I needed to set the foundation ;-; I'm SO excited to start this story. I haven't decided on what relationships will happen yet. My poly brain refuses to let me just focus on one lol. Definitely Monty/Sun&Moon oriented tho. Might sneak some Freddy love in there. Not sure yet. I hope you guys like the intro! I'm literally about to start the next chapter because I'm so excited. Stay tuned for that and another Bonnie chapter. I have most of it written but I'm having writer's block and can't decide on how I want to finish it. So sorry I keep making you guys wait for that. But here's this to fill the time until then! Much love and hope you guys enjoy what's to come <3

#fanfic #fnaf #writing #<3 #fnaf security breach #oc #fanfic writing #security breach #glamrock monty #fnaf sb #montgomery gator #sundrop/moondrop #sundrop #daycare attendant #moondrop #moon fnaf #fnaf moon #fnaf daycare attendant

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