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pythagoreanwhump · 3 years ago

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Wide Open

AO3 link here This is for the "Vivisection" square on the @badthingshappenbingo. It is a repost, this time including the full text on Tumblr instead of just an AO3 crosspost. The sequel is here.

CW: Gore (detailed descriptions of vivisection), military dictatorship whump, and creepy intimate whumpers

It's a wild one be careful lmao it's literally just self indulgent vivisection descriptions for 3k words skdjfh

Kai had watched the video of the prisoner struggling, fighting to breathe, drank in the sight of their stretched-out trembling body and listened to the little wheezes picked up by the mics that were supposed to perfectly record confessions. Not that they had been useful for their intended purpose with this one. The higher-ups rarely told Kai anything about who they were hurting, and what they have or haven’t said, and most of the time they didn’t bother to find out on their own, but word had travelled with this one. They hadn’t said anything, of course, but there was no doubt about it and even if there were, there was no mistaking that fire in their eyes. Kai recognized it well, had seen it under them as they pressed knife into flesh and as they pushed rebels to their knees against the wall; they’d seen it in nights where whispered secrets were traded and uneasy laughter shared before they returned to their lies.

Perhaps they had seen a bit of themself in this prisoner, the once dutiful soldier that was now facing the punishment for their treachery, and that was why their touches were bordering on gentle as they fastened the rebel’s hands behind their back with coarse rope and dragged them down the hall. It wasn’t something they would allow themself to think about now, and it was unlikely that they’d return to the thought late at night when they longed to feel the embrace of the darkness. They walked in silence, Kai feeling the furious trembling in their prisoner’s shoulders beneath their hand, and they rubbed their thumb over the curve of the bone absent-mindedly. They were still quiet as they arrived in the room and Kai manhandled them onto the table, pressing them down gently as they tied them down.

The prisoner opened their mouth to speak, but Kai shushed them with a finger over their lips. “Trust me, you’re better off not trying,” They warned, breaking the silence. “You were gorgeous.” Kai traced the line of their jaw, fingers almost dipping down to touch the line of red encircling their neck, the texture of rope still faintly visible. “You suffered so well, I’m proud of you.”

“Please, Lieutenant Waykes. They say… they say you would understand, right? You would be sympathetic, please, there has to be something you can do.” Their eyes were so filled with fear that Kai thought it’d spill over even if they had blindfolded them like Elena did. “I was prepared for torture, sir, but- but- I don’t think I can… not this…”

Kai rubbed down the sides of the rebel’s face, applying even pressure as they held their shaking head still. “Call me Kai. You can call me Kai if you want to.” They weren’t going to offer false reassurances, they wouldn’t lie and say that what’s coming wouldn’t be that bad, but they knew people could always take more than they thought they could. How much pain you could take was no longer your choice once you’re at the mercy of the torturers here. “I will be here,” that was all they could offer them. “I’ll be here the whole time, right here with you. I will see everything.”

Kai left them alone after that, and they seemed to be too terrified to say anything again. They were arranging the tools on the cart for the umpteenth time, making sure everything was lined up perfectly straight, when the click of boots and creak of the metal door signalled Anastasia’s arrival. She looked surprisingly emotionless for someone who so often described what she would do in detail to prisoners bound before her with a gleeful sadistic grin on her face. She wasn’t one of those with whom calm meant something worse, but even after all these years Kai could never tell what her subdued calm really meant.

Anastasia slowly brought a knife near the rebel’s chest, watching them flinch and try to pull away, and she smiled when saw that Kai had tied them down securely, leaving them just enough room to twitch but there was no escape. “Has Lieutenant Waykes told you what I’m about to do to you yet? Or have you guessed on your own?”

The rebel stubbornly looked away, turning their head to the side. They faced away from Kai now, and they wondered if there was more fear or anger in those pretty eyes now.

“Doesn’t matter. Let’s just get started now, shall we?” Anastasia skipped right over the line of thin blades Kai had laid out, grabbing the bottle of alcohol and pouring it over her own knife. She sank the blade in quickly but dragged it slowly down with more care than Kai had ever seen her wield a knife. They grimaced at how deep it went in, at least three ridges on the back of Anastasia’s tactical knife hidden in the flesh.

The prisoner screamed and threw their head back against the table with a loud clang and Kai rushed over, pressing them down. “Don’t scream yet, it’ll get worse. Captain?” They turned to Anastasia, hands still smoothing over the rebel’s forehead. “Do you want me to strap their head down?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I want them to be able to look up and see what I’m doing. Just put something under their head, and then come over here and help me.”

Kai put a rubber block under their head and tied it into place, avoiding their eyes as they did. They stroked over their cheek again before moving over to Anastasia, standing behind her uncertainly.

“Pull the cut open,” Anastasia grabbed Kai’s hands and placed their flat palms on the sides of the deep cut down the middle of the prisoner’s stomach. “Not too much tension, just keep it stretched so I can see what I’m doing.”

It was worse like this, feeling the quivering beneath their hands, or maybe it was their hands that were shaking. They knew Anastasia expected them to enjoy this, this uncaring violence because they shouldn’t see traitors as people. They felt the pull of Anastasia’s knife pressing down between their hands before the flesh gave way, and they closed their eyes, taking a deep breath through their mouth.

“Pull more now,” Anastasia nudged them with the handle of her knife, looking at them with concern until they pulled themself together, hiding their emotions away once again. “You have to keep holding it taut as I cut.”

They nodded numbly, turning to look at the rebel. Their eyes were closed and their head strained back, their lips pressed into a thin line, and Kai wanted to thumb at the bright red spot on their lip where they clamped their teeth down to keep silent, to wipe away the tear hanging just at the corner of their eye, but they didn’t dare move their hands.

They ran on autopilot, always keeping the same tension as Anastasia was cutting, but soon they turned back to watch her pick at the tissue with her blade. It didn’t look the way they expected it to, although they weren’t sure what they expected. This looked more complex, more alive, and they were suddenly glad they didn’t heed the career advice their mother gave them in their childhood. They weren’t sure what it said about them, but it’s easier when their only responsibility to human life was to kill, and they had to keep people alive only to prolong their suffering. They had to pull themselves away from their thoughts as the flesh under the cut seemed to thin with every new movement of Anastasia’s hands, and when it finally started to split apart to reveal the cavity beneath, they had to dig their fingers in to keep it from slipping under their increasingly sweaty palms.

“Keep holding them open, I’ll get something,” Anastasia walked over to the cart Kai had prepared and picked up a metal instrument, putting it into the hole she just cut out of a person—Kai had to stop themself from continuing that thought—and cranking it open. If Kai didn’t work with those everyday, they’d say the thing looked like an instrument for torture.

It was the touch of metal and the feeling of being pulled open and revealed that finally made the rebel cry out again. It was an ugly sob that broke out of them and their eyes flew open, searching for something to focus on through the haze of agony. Kai moved to their head again after Anastasia locked the ratchet in place, and the rebel flinched at their touch on their cheek, but they didn’t draw their hand away, only smoothed their hair down and whispered in their ear to keep quiet.

Kai felt the rebel give a full-body shudder when Anastasia’s hands reached into their abdomen, a quiet squelch to be heard barely above their desperate whimpers. “Make them look,” She said, tone light, but Kai knew it was an order. They cradled their head, coaxing them to look up as Anastasia pulled their intestines out.

There was less blood than they expected, but the pale-grey length was still covered in slimy red liquid that clung to Anastasia’s fingertips as she held it up. The rebel stared, their breathing short and rapid, and Kai could feel the movement of each breath and heartbeat and they rested their hand below their chin, just against their neck.

She dropped it back in with little care, and Kai found it unsettling how silent it was. Maybe it would have fit with how sick the whole ordeal was if it made a sound as it fell back into the body. Anastasia reached back in, and from this angle Kai wouldn’t see what she was doing, so they gently laid the rebel’s hair down, fingers feathering over their eyelids as they squeezed their eyes shut again. The moment was almost peaceful until they wrenched their head to the side, their scream cut off with retching. “Please,” they croaked out between cries, “Please, I can’t.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Kai planted a kiss on their forehead. “You’re taking this so well.”

“No, Kai, please,” Their eyes flickered to Anastasia but it was obvious they knew begging her would be useless. Kai wasn’t sure if the rebel was correct in assuming begging them would be more useful, though. “Please, Kai, no more.”

“Kai already?” Anastasia repeated. “You get all personal with them fast.” She looked at them, eyes trailing down to their chest, then glanced over meaningfully at the bound sobbing figure on the table, the implication clear. “Come over here.”

Kai gave the rebel’s cheek one last pat before they moved over to Anastasia, rubbing their hands nervously, waiting for her instructions. “Maybe if you got more personal with them, Captain Ridley wouldn’t be getting mad at you all the time for not being able to get any information from them.”

Anastasia laughed. “Shut up and come over. Touch.” She grabbed Kai's hands and stuck them into the rebel’s abdomen as they begged Kai to stop. “You can gag them if you want to. Grab the intestines. Pull a little, not too hard. Feel it.”

Feel it. Kai repeated to themself silently. It was never the insides that bothered them, although that would be much more normal. They focused on the sliminess in their palm as they tugged slightly, feeling it slip even when they squeezed, almost like those toys that were tubes of water that you couldn’t hold onto. It was much easier to forget this was a person when they concentrated on those sensations, and they found themself breathing easier for a moment before they snapped back and some indescribable feeling seized their chest again.

“Are you alright?” Anastasia grabbed their chin, pulling them toward her. “It’s okay, the texture may be hard to get used to on your first time. You can wear gloves if you want to.”

“Hm?” Kai tried to wipe away the blood Anastasia left on their face, only to add to it with their own bloody hands. “Oh, no, it’s fine. I was just… yeah, I’m fine. Thank you.” They pulled again, harder this time, more to prove to themself they could be it.

“Alright, that’s good enough. They won’t really feel that.” Anastasia took Kai’s hands again, gripping their wrists while she pointed at the dark mass at the top of the cavity. Something in the back of their mind told them they remembered the name of the organ from the not at all accurate diagrams they saw in high school biology. “This right here, hold it. Grab a bit more of it, yeah, just like that.” She rubbed her thumb at the back of Kai’s neck, just above their shirt collar, and Kai was sure she got a bit of the blood in their hair. “Now squeeze, lightly. Not too much, just enough to make them scream.”

“Wait wait no Kai please-” The rebel strained up, making eye contact with them. Kai could tell how much effort it took for them to move at all and they grimaced with the way their open skin shifted. Their eyes were wild and desperate, and Kai stared back, feeling the familiar vibration of sadism in their chest creep up again. With that look in their eyes, it wasn’t hard. They squeezed, slowly, with the same trepidation they remembered having pulled the trigger with the first time they picked up an automatic weapon.

There was the harsh panting first, the even breathing controlled with too much effort that Kai knew from experience meant they were trying not to scream. There was a point beyond which it was rarely possible to not scream, even if they stopped, and they pushed the prisoner right past that steadily, waiting for the moment the scream broke out.

They didn’t expect the scream to be accompanied by thrashing and their hands slipped despite how well they had tied the prisoner down. It was enough of a reprieve in the pain for them to stop screaming, and despite Kai’s dislike of screams, they respected how well this prisoner held it in, and a part of them wondered if they would scream if this was done to them.

“Fuck you Kai, you fucking t-”

Kai surprised themself with how little hesitation they had when they gripped the organ and squeezed again, using just a bit more force than before and stopping the rebel’s words by wrenching another scream out of them. They heard Anastasia chuckle behind them, complimenting them on how fast they were picking this up. They kept squeezing, varying the pressure but never enough for the pain to fade, allowing themself to bask in Anastasia’s approval and momentarily purely enjoyed hurting someone.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Anastasia pulled Kai away. “Go hold their hand or stroke their hair or whatever while I finish up.”

By “finishing up”, Anastasia meant ripping scream after scream from the rebel for another hour. Kai held their hand through it, feeling their fingers tighten with every new wave of pain, and loosening before Kai had to slap them awake twice for more suffering. Between the screams and sobs, they begged and cursed Kai incoherently, and for once Kai found it endearing enough to not gag them immediately. They wiped away the drop of blood at the corner of their mouth, thumbing at the spot where they had bitten open their lip. By the time Anastasia finally let up, Kai doubted the rebel could hear their whispered reassurances that it was over.

“Stitch them up,” Anastasia said to Kai as she gave the inside of the prisoner’s stomach a last jab with her nails before taking the retractor out and wiping her hands clean. “Keep your hands steady, you know I’ll be taking it out on you if you make a mistake. Take them to the med wing when you’re done.”

“Please,” Kai felt the rebel’s fingers scrabbling for their hand as soon as Anastasia was out of the room. “Please, Kai, just kill me.”

Kai wrapped their hands into a fist inside their own hand, squeezing lightly before turning away. They didn’t give them a response, only a light touch on their shaking shoulders as they sobbed harder.

They worked in silence after that, pushing the curved needle through skin time after time, laying down knots that pulled the wide-open skin close together again. It wasn’t the first time they had done this, but the experience was new enough to bring back memories of the first time. Memories of hiding under their covers at night with a faint flashlight, hoping no one in the crowded dorm hall would notice their muffled whimpers as they dragged the rough thread through their own flesh, hoping that no one would find out about the mistakes they made. This was much easier, without the need to control the shaking or the buzzing numbness in their fingers as they worked. The silk thread, wet with blood, cut into their fingers as they tugged each knot tight, but the repetitive looping and pulling were calming just like coloring a mandala. The long cut was closed together in no time after they zoned out, and they ran their hands over the stitches, surprisingly even for their lack of practice. If the prisoner survived, Kai let themself entertain the thought, the scars left behind would be pretty.

“Alright, let’s go,” Kai undid the straps, and the rebel was too weak to fight even with their hands and arms completely free now. They picked them up, gathering their limp form in their arms, and was surprised they didn’t even try to pull away, instead wrapping an arm around Kai’s back and holding on, tucking their face into their chest to hide their tears. “It’s over,” Kai promised them. “That’s it, you took it so well. I’ll take care of you now.”

#whump #whump writing #my writing #whump works #bad things happen bingo #Prompt: Vivisection #Fandom: Original Work #creepy whumper #gore tw #vivisection #vmd #vague military dictatorship #OC: Anastasia #OC: Kai #unnamed rebel character #who has been named since I first posted this and its sequel #but will not be refer to by name like ever lol #since Kai doesn't find out their real name until after the revolution

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chainofclovers · 3 years ago

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welcome to my self-indulgent ted lasso fic meta

My own dang tumblr feels like the ideal spot for some self-indulgent meta about things I've written. It's happened before and it'll happen again! Here is some self-indulgent meta about the (barbecue sauce) series (Ted Lasso, Ted/Rebecca/Keeley/Roy love square + other relationships within), and specifically about the final installment, also called "(barbecue sauce)."

Writing this series, especially the third part, was a feverish yet coherent experience, if that makes any sense whatsoever, and I realized I really wanted to write down some of the stuff I was trying to do in terms of the structure and content so that I don't forget. I'm putting it behind a cut in case you would prefer not to see all this detail or if you have not read it and might like to someday!

big picture structural stuff

I wanted each story to be about very, very private things that progressively reshape both the public and private reality for all four people involved in the love square, even though we don’t get each character’s interior perspective in every story.

"as fearless as" (Rebecca POV): the shocking new reality of saying what you want out loud and trusting that another person--or people, in this case--will be able to respond honestly. Ted and Rebecca get their first inkling that even if their living situations are very complicated, together they can create something that feels like home, and they don’t have to be in the same physical location for the feeling to work.

"face to face" (Ted POV): negotiating not only the dynamics of a new relationship structure but confronting a former home that no longer fits. Even though Ted’s son is the most important person in his life, his body and spirit are rejecting all the old familiar places, and it exhausts him to the point of rawness and leaves him open to seeing himself not only as someone who loves Rebecca and can accept that she loves him back but not only him, but that he could actually participate in the poly dynamics for himself, too.

“(barbecue sauce)” (POV shifts from Rebecca to Roy to Ted to Keeley to Ted to Rebecca): happy endings, and how finding that happy ending doesn’t mean life stops being hard, but being uncompromising in one’s commitment to happiness does make it possible to navigate even the most panic-inducing things.

little picture bbq sauce things

The first draft of the final installment started with a lot more relationship establishment stuff, but the most liberating thing I could do for the story was scrap those details and start with a zoomed-out happy ending. Rebecca’s figuring things out with Ted and with Keeley and even with Roy, and all four of them are committed to each other, and no matter what happens, they aren’t going anywhere. She is loved and adored and sexually and financially and spiritually safe, and she's able to share that love with her partners in return. I really wanted the first section to end with a paragraph that felt more like the end of a story. They love each other, bad stuff could happen and they’d still be together, boom.

But then I wanted actual challenges to come up and prove the happy ending right. This part actually happened kind of organically, insanely enough, but each section’s conflict gets progressively more intense:

Roy imagines what their love square would look like from the outside and does his own Diamond Dogs-style pep talk to reassure himself that perceptions don’t matter as much as what he actually feels

Ted and Roy spend time together alone and start to confront the possibility of having sexual feelings for each other, something that is very scary to explore

Despite feeling disrespected by her mother, Keeley listens to her mother’s wishes and brings Rebecca home to meet her and it doesn’t go well--but instead of trying hard and smoothing things over, Rebecca reassures her by showing Keeley she sees her mother for who she truly is (sometimes being judgmental instead of open-minded is actually the best way to show your love for someone...a lesson Ted ironically exhibited when he saw through Rupert instead of assuming the best of him and told Rebecca as much)

A conversation between Ted and Michelle goes south really quickly, with Michelle botching her reaction to the revelation that Ted is in a queer poly relationship. He panics, terrified that Michelle could withhold Henry from him, but is able to keep himself together enough to reach out to Rebecca for help

Rebecca has to process the realization that Ted has deep-seated fears about mortality that relate to his father’s death and his fear of leaving Henry prematurely (or maybe he already has), but instead of giving in to how scary it is to hear Ted talk about his own death during his panic attack, she stays calm and takes care of him, and they end the night having sex with the promise that in the morning Roy and Keeley will join them and they’ll all be together to continue processing everything that’s happened, and planning Henry’s party, and doing the best they can

I totally knew it was gonna feel a little intense to end the story a) with a really painful intrusion into their happiness and b) while Ted and Rebecca are literally in the middle of having sex. But I wanted the midpoint of sex being the end of the story to kind of imply that things are still going to keep happening even after the story is done. And because we already know they’re committed to making this work out within the love square, the real happy ending of the story is Ted and Rebecca’s ability to weather this panic-inducing experience even if it’s obvious there will be many more challenges ahead. I wanted it both ways: to suggest a long and complicated future that these four humans are capable of weathering together, and to conclude the story with one of the most intimate and lovely things humans can do together.

I also made a decision about halfway through writing this story that even though there would be a decent amount of sex and allusions to sexual experiences, there would be no descriptions of orgasms in this story. I mean, the love square is having great sex. They are having orgasms. But I didn’t want to actually describe those moments of heightened build-up and release because I wanted the increasingly challenging self-communication and communication with others to feel like leveling up. This is actually a somewhat embarrassing sentence to write, but the real climax of the story is Ted mustering up the strength to call Rebecca during his panic attack and Rebecca arriving to be with him. I didn’t want any physical climaxes to muddle it up or get confused with the triumphs of communication.

Anyway, I told you this meta would be self-indulgent. I fucking adored writing this series. While there are things I could have done differently and things I might indeed do differently if I were to write this as a better writer some number of years in the future, I was able to accomplish what I wanted in this moment, and I’m so glad I had the experience of writing a callback to the little murmur of “barbecue sauce” in 1x8, which is my favorite moment of Ted Lasso so far and possibly the most wonderfully written shorthand for home I’ve ever witnessed.

#ted lasso #meta by me #(barbecue sauce)#writer things #about me

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worldwidemochiguy · 5 years ago

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Carousel, Part II of the Play Date Trilogy

➵ Once Jungkook’s had his fun catching you, he loves nothing more than to play with you, his favourite doll. Jungkook wants to keep you pampered and happy, trapped in his little dollhouse, safe from all those who would want to take you. As you learn for yourself, Jungkook doesn’t share his toys well…

➵ Play Date Trilogy Masterlist

➵ Warnings: 18+, Yandere Jungkook, Kidnapping, Unhealthy thoughts, hints of Stockholm Syndrome, Somnophilia, Non-Consensual oral sex (male receiving), Semi-Graphic Murder, Drugging.

➵ Word Count: 4.3K

➵ Masterlist for all my other fics

You weren’t sure what was more painful — the dig of the metal cuffs into your wrists, the fading bruises on your knees, or the maddening, persistent itch on your nose. It had been irritating you for hours now, but with both hands restrained, you were helpless against it.

You weren’t able to sleep all night, despite taking your nightly ‘medicine’ as Jungkook dubbed the little white pills he administered to you. Every time the drugs tugged your conscious under into blissful relief, the stubborn, niggling, tingle of your nose yanked you back.

By the morning, you were certain the dark bruises on your knees were eclipsed by the purpling underneath your eyes, a telltale sign that you hadn’t got any rest. Your nose was still itching as Jungkook pattered down the steps, his merry whistling accompanied by the clatter of the chopsticks on the plate he brought with him.

Perhaps it was the exhaustion that loosened your tongue, breaking your self-imposed silence towards your captor. But at your hoarse groan of “Jungkook”, it was like you had never ignored him in the first place. Jungkook’s head snapped towards you, eyes wide as he rushed to brace his hands on either side of you, leaning in and analysing your expression attentively.

“Yes, baby? What’s wrong? Are you alright?” The irony of your captor asking after your well-being was not lost on you, but you were just too tired to bother examining it.

“My nose,” You muttered simply. Jungkook’s brow creased, the urgency not yet leeching from his expression. You attempted to elaborate, “…itchy.”

Your sleep-heavy tongue was difficult to wield, due in part to the sleeping pills you were so regularly fed, but Jungkook seemed to understand well enough. His expression cracked with a smile.

There was an innocence in the curve of his lips that you couldn’t manage to reconcile with his cruel actions.

“Oh, poor baby.” He simpered, lifting a hand to card through your hair. When you didn’t flinch away from the caress, his smile widened. “Your nose itches, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll fix it for you.”

You couldn’t hold back a satisfied sigh when he rubbed along the bridge of your nose, much to Jungkook’s own enjoyment. He replaced his finger with his lips, placing a sweet kiss on the tip of your nose. You scrunched it in response and he cooed, his hand coming down to cup your cheek.

“Ah, you’re so cute, baby.” He brushed a thumb under your eye, making a noise of sympathy as you winced. “You couldn’t sleep?” You nodded. “Was it because of your nose?” Another nod. He tutted quietly, standing to retrieve the plate he discarded in his rush to reach you.

“See, baby, this is the kind of problem you wouldn’t have if I could trust you enough to not restrain you.” As he spoke, he heaped a pile of rice in between the chopsticks and raised it to your mouth. You accepted it obediently, having learned that forgoing pride and allowing him to feed you was better than not being fed at all.

“Then why don’t you just trust me?” You mumbled through the mouthful of breakfast.

“Because, baby, for me to trust you — you have to be trustworthy.”

“I am trustworthy,” You protested.

He fixed you with a sceptical look as he scooped up a clump of scrambled egg.

“No, baby, you’re not.” He tilted his head sympathetically as you released a frustrated groan, wiping away a grain of rice which had escaped the corner of your mouth. He dragged his thumb over your bottom lip as his eyes glazed over slightly, and you willed yourself not to recoil.

“Listen, I know you’re trying, and you’re almost there, but it will be a while before I can let you into our home. But-” He added consolingly as you slumped in your seat, “-if you keep being such a good girl like you are now, it won’t feel like any time at all. I promise, baby.”

He kissed you on the forehead approvingly — electing not to notice your small shiver of revulsion — and left with a promise to return for dinner.

The hours in between his visits stretched into an awful blur of surrealism, and you resented yourself bitterly for being relieved when Jungkook came back with a steaming bowl of soup.

This time — a treat for being so well-behaved, Jungkook told you with an indulgent smile — he loosened your bindings slightly. Though your ankles and wrists were still bound together respectively, he had removed the cords that were fastened to the chair. Of course, your newfound freedom of movement quickly soured when he used the opportunity to sit down on your chair and hold you on his lap.

His arms were a heavy weight around you, his warm breath causing shivers to roll down your spine as he balanced the bowl of soup on your lap. Jungkook’s sharp chin was hooked around your shoulder and he watched with glee as you obediently opened wide every time the spoon was raised to your mouth.

“You see?” He murmured as your lips closed around another spoonful, “We can do this everyday if you keep being such a good girl. Don’t you want that?”

No, you wanted to reply, but your mouth was too full.

You tried to ignore the way you could feel him steadily hardening beneath you. Each time you squirmed in his lap, his grip got tighter, and he pressed increasingly against your thigh. Once the soup was finished, you let out a quiet sigh of satiated contentment, and he stiffened.

His warm breath brushed the shell of your ear as he snickered.

“The things you do to me, baby…” He murmured, his voice bedroom-soft. You inhaled sharply as he caught the lobe of your ear between his teeth, gently tugging it while his hardening member continued to press against you insistently.

“I can barely think with you squirming on my cock like this. Is my little innocent baby that eager?” He gripped your hips and used them to grind you against his erection, laughing as you whimpered in fear.

“You sound so pretty, I bet you’ll sound even prettier when you’re bouncing on my cock. I’ll make you feel so good, baby. You’ll be so fucked full of me that you won’t even be able to think, you’ll just be my little fuckdoll. Would you like that, hmm?”

His hand trailing down to the waistband of your pants finally jolted you into action.

“S-stop, Jungkook, please,” You stuttered, sagging in relief when his hand paused.

“You still aren’t ready yet, baby?”

“No, not ready.” You gasped, heart pounding wildly in your chest.

You hated the way your body reacted to him, how you couldn’t stop your limbs from going pliant and weak even as your thoughts froze into ice.

He gently displaced you from his lap, shifting out from underneath you so that you slid back onto the chair. He diligently bound your ankles and wrists to the chair again, but he listened to your request for them to be slightly looser. Once you were fully tied up again, he pulled back to survey his handiwork.

“I think it’s time for your medicine now, baby. It might help you calm down a bit.” Jungkook smirked, watching as your chest rose and sank, your heart underneath still pounding erratically. “I can’t wait until the day you accept your reaction to me.” Jungkook remarked casually as he produced the little white bottle from his back pocket.

This time, he didn’t stop shaking it in his palm until three capsules fell out, instead of the usual two.

“Just to help you sleep properly,” Jungkook explained when he saw you eyeing the additional pill worriedly.

“I-Is it safe to have more than two?”

Jungkook frowned at you, looking almost hurt. “Do you really think I would do anything to harm you, baby?”

You absolutely did, but you kept that to yourself, swallowing down the words you wanted to say along with the pills. Blissful oblivion came crashing over you in waves, and you willingly closed your eyes and drowned.

Jungkook loved watching you succumb to the pills. He could barely wait until the day when you would succumb to him just as easily. He knew it was only a matter of time. The image of you writhing in his lap as he fed you burned in his memory.

You had felt so delicate, so malleable in his arms. You opened your mouth so eagerly for him, you were such a good girl. His cock, still aroused from the feeling of your warmth on top of him, began to stir again, and he let out a quiet groan.

He had told himself to wait until you were completely obedient to him, after all, he couldn’t risk you somehow getting away from him during the throes of passion, when he might be more vulnerable. However, the sight of your face, so innocent and defenceless as you slept, was fast convincing him to break his convictions.

Surely, Jungkook reasoned to himself as he undid the zipper to his pants and tugged out his now fully-hard cock, he could just get himself off to the sight of you while you were asleep. It wasn’t like he was actually touching you, or — god, the thought alone was enough to make him come — fucking you. Also, there was no chance of you waking up since you had the extra pill in your system, so you definitely wouldn’t be upset by it, since you didn’t know about it.

Actually, by that logic, Jungkook figured it wouldn’t be so bad if he just… used your hand instead of his own. Before he even fully decided it, he was inching closer towards you, reaching down to grab your hand.

Ah. Your wrists were bound to the chair. He wouldn’t be able to use your hand unless he crouched down awkwardly, and he wasn’t exactly sure he would be able to bend that way.

Well, getting off to the sight of you was still just as good, Jungkook comforted himself. His eyes slid over your body appreciatively as his hand sped up, spreading the translucent drops of precome that were beading at the head and mentally replacing it with the image of your hand pumping up and down his shaft.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groaned, unreserved since he knew you wouldn’t wake up. Just the sight of your vulnerable body was enough to bring him to the edge, the sight of your eyelashes fanned against your cheekbones, your pretty skin that he just wanted to kiss all over, your perfect lips-

Oh. Your lips. Your mouth.

Jungkook’s hand stilled as the thought came into his head. And stuck there.

It’s not like you’d wake up and realise, so it wouldn’t really be that bad, Jungkook justified to himself. What you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you, after all. And your pretty lips would be so beautiful stretched around his cock.

Jungkook ignored the small voice telling him that this was wrong, you didn’t want this, you couldn’t want this. He reached out to cup your jaw, in awe of the way it went slack with barely any interference, almost like your body was welcoming him in. Your lips were so pink and pretty, Jungkook couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss you.

Fuck, you tasted so fucking sweet. One kiss quickly turned into two, and then three, and then Jungkook realised he had spent countless minutes just exploring your unresponsive mouth with his tongue. There was something so addicting about being able to do whatever he wanted with your body, knowing you had no way of stopping him. Maybe he could fuck you if he just-

No. He promised your first time together would be perfect. He had imagined so many times how you would be underneath him whining his name and begging him so prettily. He wouldn’t compromise that for anything, no matter how appealing the thought of being able to fuck you however he wanted was, being able to control you and claim you.

He eventually drew back, groaning again at the sight of your now swollen, spit-slick lips. His cock pulsed impatiently, and he gave it another tug as he stood up, causing a wave of pleasure to shiver through him.

Cradling your jaw with one hand, encouraging your mouth as wide as it would go, he carefully guided his cock into your mouth. Once the head was in your mouth — the sight of your pretty lips plush around his cock like you were kissing it was something he would not forget for years — Jungkook rubbed his slit against your tongue, and immediately had to grip himself tightly to hold off from coming.

Your mouth was so warm, and wet, and tight. Jungkook let out his breath in one long exhale as he pushed into you until he felt himself hit the back of your throat. You looked so pretty, so docile and peaceful even as your mouth was stuffed full of his cock.

Jungkook pushed in slightly further and your throat fluttered around him beautifully. It only took a few thrusts into your tight little mouth before Jungkook came. He just about had the presence of mind to pull out before his seed flowed down your throat and choked you.

He watched with immense pride as his release painted itself all over your face, some of it dripping down to your chest. You just sat there, completely unaware and happier for it. Jungkook had never seen a more beautiful sight. Satisfaction roared in his chest, you were covered with his seed, marked as his possession.

Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to wash it off you, and told himself that he would come back down earlier in the morning and clean you up then. He left you with a sweet kiss to your forehead, already looking forward to when he would fuck your throat again.

When you woke up the next morning, it was not to an itchy nose. It was much worse. Your whole face felt uncomfortably tight, and you started to panic, thinking you must have had some kind of allergic reaction to the dinner the night before, or maybe a side-effect of the extra sleeping pill.

Once you realised what it was, you wished you hadn’t woken up at all.

There was semen on your face. Jungkook had ejaculated on your face, and he must have done it whilst you were asleep, which meant there was no way of knowing if that was the only thing he did.

You quickly catalogued every feeling in your body. Thankfully, you did not feel sore in between your legs, which you definitely would have done if Jungkook had… done that. However, your relief was short-lived once you noticed the dryness of your throat.

There was an unpleasant salty taste on your tongue, which you at first had misconstrued as simple morning breath. Now you realised the truth, and you wished more than anything that you were still ignorant.

The door at the top of the stairs opened. Down came Jungkook, whistling a jauntier tune than usual. You felt the rage build from your tender wrists to your sore throat to your burning cheeks. This man had violated you. He had kidnapped you. And he had the nerve to fucking whistle.

Jungkook stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you, wide awake, covered in dried come, and glaring at him.

“Oh no, baby, did you wake up early?”

“JUNGKOOK!” You screamed, your abused throat cracking over the syllables like broken glass, “I HATE YOU!”

His lip trembled.

“No you don’t,” He asserted quietly, “You’re just surprised. That’s all. Don’t say things you don’t mean, baby.”

“I-” You choked on your words, sobs bubbling up in pure frustration, “I…I hate you so much. I can’t even use words to say how much I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.”

“Come on, baby,” he shushed you, somehow having procured a wet flannel. He wiped away your angry tears and the dried flakes of come he had left on your face. God, he didn’t even clean you up after using you, you realised bitterly.

“You don’t mean it, you’re just upset.” He muttered, as if he was reassuring himself as well as you.

“I’m sorry, I really should have wiped it off before you woke up, you just looked so pretty covered with my come. I thought I would be down here before you were awake, but you got up too early.” He scolded you gently, and you felt an incredulous laugh bubble in your chest. He was blaming you.

“I hate you.” You repeated quietly, knowing he wouldn’t listen to you anyway.

“No you don’t.” He refuted, just like you knew he would. “I love you, and I know that in time, you’ll love me too. You have to. No one else can love you like I do.”

“I wouldn’t want anyone to love me like you do.”

Jungkook grinned, misunderstanding it as a compliment.

“I want Jimin back.” You told him, and he stiffened, a snarl coming onto his face at the mention of another man.

“…Jimin?” He questioned stiffly, and you nodded distantly.

“Park Jimin,” you recalled. The thought of him seemed so far away now, the shock of your anger and despair making you drift into a detached headspace as you reminisced, forgetting Jungkook’s presence entirely.

“My boyfriend, Park Jimin. I loved him so much, and he loved me. We knew each other since we were children. He was going to propose, and I was going to say yes. We were going to have peonies at our wedding. He used to call me his calico cat.”

A tear ran in a delicate trail down your cheek as you recalled all those sunlit years of laughter and happiness and love. An unrecognisable life compared to the one you were stuck in now.

Jungkook’s hand gripped your jaw painfully, forcing your head back to him. He was in denial, there was no way you could love someone else, someone other than him. The only reason why you were denying him now was because you were being stubborn, that was all. You must be lying.

“You’re trying to make me jealous. Stop it.” He snapped, nails digging into your skin until you whimpered.

“I’m not, I’m not,” You cried. Jimin was your one good memory, and you wouldn’t let Jungkook take that away from you. “I miss him so much, you don’t understand. You don’t even know what true love is, all you know is hatred.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened, recoiling like he had been struck. After a moment’s pause, he turned and stalked back up the stairs. You didn’t watch him go. A second later, you heard the door slam, and you exhaled in relief. He was gone, and you could feel safer in his absence.

You had drifted into an uneasy sleep while Jungkook was missing, filled with nightmares of Jungkook tying you up and violating you while you were frozen, conscious but unable to do anything to stop him. You heard a distant screaming, Help! Help me! Please someone help me!

But the voice was not your own.

Your eyes snapped open to see Jungkook dragging a figure down the stairs. His fists were clenched in the blood-matted hair of his victim — a man, you assumed — and he flung the crumpled form on the ground, barely four feet in front of you.

With the man now whimpering and curled in on himself you had no way to identify him, but when Jungkook stood behind him and yanked him up by the throat, a harsh slap of recognition struck you like a bolt of lightning.

“…Jimin?”

Jimin’s eyes — shut due to the blood spilling over from the wound on his forehead — flickered open at the sound of your voice.

“Y/n?” He mumbled, and at your teary nod, his face crumpled.

“Let him go, Jungkook!” You screamed at your captor, but his face remained unmoved. “Please, I’ll do anything, I’ll never try to escape you, I promise, I’ll love you if you just let him go!”

Jimin made a cut-off yelp as Jungkook’s hand tightened around his throat. You watched helplessly as his face slowly reddened, his attempts to gasp in air cruelly thwarted. You were terrified Jungkook was going to just choke Jimin right in front of you, make you watch him die, but when Jimin’s knees began to buckle, he let him go and watched dispassionately as your boyfriend sank to the floor, panting as his lungs refilled with air.

“Thank you.” You gasped, relief flooding you that Jungkook had taken mercy on him, but the relief was short-lived when Jungkook drew out a knife and strode over to you.

You sat completely still as Jungkook pressed the blade against your jugular firmly enough that a few drops of blood pooled beneath the blade. He caught an errant rivulet that had begun to trace down to your collar bone, smearing the blood with his finger. He brought it up to his mouth to suck on. His lips — stained with red — tugged up slightly as he turned his head to face Jimin, who was still lying prostrate on the ground.

“Who would you prefer me to kill?” Jungkook questioned idly, as if he was discussing the weather. “Her?” He pressed the knife harder for a second, prompting a throb of pain to erupt in your neck, before withdrawing it and pointing it at Jimin, “Or you?”

“Her.” Jimin gasped, ignoring your sharp inhale, and Jungkook’s smirk, “Kill her, not me.”

“You would rather save yourself than save her?” Jungkook sounded remarkably unperturbed for a man who held life and death in his hands. If you weren’t paralysed by fear and betrayal, you would have noted the hint of smug satisfaction in his tone.

“Yes.” Jimin replied, turning his tear-filled eyes to look at you apologetically, “I’m sorry, Y/n, I’m so sorry, but I just can’t die.”

“Can’t you?” Jungkook chuckled.

It happened so quickly. You had screwed your eyes shut, preparing for Jungkook to just lean down and kill you, but the blow never came.

You heard a brief scuffle, then a peculiar sort of choking sound, like when you hastily finish a drink and some of it slips into your lungs. You waited, still seeing nothing, until you felt Jungkook approach you again.

You tensed, expecting the sting of a knife, but instead feeling who you assumed was Jungkook cupping your cheeks. His hands were oddly wet.

“Good girl for closing your eyes. You shouldn’t have to see things like that.” He told you, and you couldn’t conceal your confusion in the tilt of your eyebrows or the wrinkle of your lips, making him laugh.

“You can open your eyes now, baby.” The sight that met you when you obeyed him was something you had wished to never see. Jungkook’s face was now covered in blood, his hair practically slicked back with the substance. You had the daunting suspicion that none of it was his.

“You look so cute, squinting like this.” Jungkook grinned, tapping your nose with his finger. His finger was red. You finally had the cold realisation that his hands were wet with blood, and if the blood wasn’t his, then-

“Jimin!” You screamed as you finally glimpsed behind Jungkook, where the crumpled corpse of your boyfriend lay. His throat was split in a grotesque smile, lifeless eyes staring vacantly as his blood continued to spill onto the ground. His face was reflected in the rapidly-growing pool — permanently warped in an expression of pure terror.

“Oh my god,” you uttered, traumatised, and Jungkook rushed to pacify you.

“No, no, baby, don’t look at it. Just look at me,” He commanded, his bloodied hands coming up again to frame your face, “It’s ok, he didn’t deserve to live. Did you hear what he said? He didn’t care about you. He was selfish, he didn’t love you like I love you, just like I told you, remember? No one can love you like I love you.”

“You- you killed him,” Your voice broke, barely able to form words over your own sobs, and Jungkook hushed you.

“I know you don’t like violence, baby, but he deserved it. He was going to let you die for him.”

“I don’t care!” Your body shook with the force of your tears, but you still tried desperately to struggle away from Jungkook’s misguided attempt at comfort. “I would have died for him. I loved him.”

Jungkook’s gaze hardened, pulling away to survey you coldly as you tugged against the restraints in a futile attempt to reach Jimin’s body as blood continued to surge out of him. All you could see was red.

“Fine then.” Jungkook stated, his voice brittle. “If you love him so much, I guess I’ll leave the two of you alone.”

“…What?”

Jungkook ignored you as he made the journey back upstairs, not reacting even as you screamed for him to come back, as you pleaded for him not to leave you there alone with Jimin’s body, as you apologised. He locked you away, eliminating your only remaining light source.

In the darkness, the heavy slam of the door seemed earth-shattering, and in its aftermath, all that remained were your quiet sobs, the scrape of raw skin against restraints, and the mangled corpse.

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a65232-joshywoshy · 3 years ago

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Penny and Rachael sat on Rachael’s couch. They were confused, annoyed, frustrated, and angry. They sat and tried to process the events of the day.

"I can't believe we got fired. Just because his face went all weird. As if it was our fault!" Penny groaned.

"Yeah. It's weird. We'll have to look for jobs again." Rachael stared out the living room window, soaking in the view for what was soon to be the last time.

"I hate him! Fuck him! Fucking Howard!" Penny was growing increasingly angry.

Rachael was both interested and afraid of Penny's angry side. She had only seen Penny like this a few times. There was an intense power within Penny that Rachael could feel. That power radiated out from Penny, so much so that Rachael was in awe. Had Penny been angry at Rachael, the feeling would have been different. But watching Penny's emotion without being its target meant that Rachael was free to watch the emotion flow outward from Penny without worry of upsetting her more. Rachael could be herself and revel in the expressiveness of someone else.

"I'm sorry." Rachael said softly.

"It's okay. You don't need to apologize." Penny took a breath. "It's so aggravating that we were just fired on a whim, you know?"

"Yeah"

"Five years of being a fantastic employee and it means nothing to him. We're just flushed down the FUCKING toilet." Now Penny mocked Howard. "Oh. I don't like what happened to my FAAACE. SURELY this must be YOUR FAULT. UGGGHH!!!" Penny slumped back against the couch again. "I want a drink. I just want a fucking drink. Drown out this piece of shit."

Rachael remembered the rules that Veronica had texted her. They had clearly stated that Penny was not allowed to have any alcohol at any time for any reason. Penny had been an alcoholic for a few months, long before Rachael had met her. Veronica had just come into Penny's life shortly before and helped Penny through that time in her life. They had both agreed that alcohol was not a real solution, and that had eventually resulted in one of their first rules. 'Under no circumstances is alcohol allowed. Wine, beer, margaritas, and all other alcohol have been deemed off limits due to their long term health effects on Penny.'

"Penny, alcohol isn't allowed. Ms. Veronica said so. It's in the rules." Rachael was sure to speak soft and gently, while making sure to still have some seriousness to her tone.

"FUCK THE RULES! I don't care about the stupid little game she likes to play. I'm mad, I want a drink!" Penny got up off the couch.

"Where are you going?" Rachael asked. She knew Penny was serious now. There had to be some way to stop her. Penny wasn't in a rage, but Rachael had seen this mood before. This mood meant that Penny would probably over-indulge in whatever she could get her hands on for the next few hours. Ms. Veronica wasn't around to keep her in line, either.

"I'm going to get a drink!" Penny grabbed her purse and walked towards the front door.

"Penny, if you do that, I'm going to tell Mrs. Veronica on you." Rachael stood to face Penny.

"I don't care, Rachael! Tell her all you want. Bye." Penny left the house. She wasn't angry with Rachael, but Rachael reminded her of work at the moment. She wanted to remove all traces of her former workplace, if only for a short time.

Rachael was slightly surprised. Penny could be this way sometimes, but Veronica seemed to know how to dial back and redirect this side of her. Rachael, as more of a friend up until this point, only knew how to be less aggravating towards her. It was time to let Veronica know what she had done.

Hi, Mrs. Veronica. It’s Rachael again. Penny just left to go get alcohol. You told me you wanted to know when she broke any rules. Also, she just spent the last 10 minutes cursing.

Rachael hit send and waited for a reply. She got a soda from the fridge, then plopped back down on the couch.

Hi, Rachael. Thank you for letting me know. Please tell me if she has any alcohol on her breath when she gets back, or if she drinks any tonight. I don’t have any issue with her BUYING alcohol. I have an issue with her drinking it. We’re still working on her alcoholism slowly. Going to buy it lets her get off some steam. Drinking it is what I’ll punish for. I’ve given away a fair amount of alcohol that she’s bought and never drank. That’s okay.

Okay. Thank you, Mrs Veronica. I just want to help do what's best for her. Also, we both just got fired from work. So there's that.

Oh no! I'm so sorry, Rachael. If there's anything I can do to help, let me know.

I will. Thank you.

The text conversation ended. Rachael started to call Penny, but thought better of it. "She needs to let off steam. Wait. Be patient," she thought out loud. Rachael went upstairs to start repacking her things again. Waiting was hard for Rachael to do sometimes. She worked hard to occupy herself with repacking things and cleaning a few messes around the house. Half an hour or so had passed when Rachael heard the front door open again. Half an hour was just enough time to get to the store, pick up something, then drive back. Penny was back. Rachael went to meet her at the door.

“I’m sorry I told on you.” Rachael said softly.

Penny stood in the entryway with a wine cooler in her hand. The bottle was still full and unopened; Rachael had glanced at it while walking towards her. Penny looked calm now.

“It’s okay, kiddo. I’m glad you did.” Penny stepped inside and sat the bottle down on the floor. After a pause, she hugged Rachael. “No drinks for me. I just wanted to get away for a minute. Drinking is a slippery slope. A slope I don’t need to start sliding down. Especially now. You’re so important to me, Rachael. I don’t want to do anything to hurt our relationship. I don’t trust myself when I start drinking. That’s no good for either of us.”

Rachael returned the hug, squeezing twice as hard as Penny had.

"Thank you for loving me so much, Penny. How can I help you feel better?"

Penny sighed. "Get me a new brain?" She smiled weakly.

"Sorry. I only have one." Rachael smiled back. “Maybe one day we can swap them. We could take turns inside each others head. That’d be cool.”

Penny's phone buzzed. Rachael heard it, then waited to see if Penny would answer it. Penny ignored it. Rachael suspected that Veronica was checking on her directly. She hoped that one day Penny would check on her like that, too. The thought of having someone in a caregiver role who oversaw her actions was thrilling. She was a little jealous of Penny being looked after, though she was more concerned about why Penny refused to answer her. Penny ignored her phone because it meant trouble, most likely. Just like a child, Penny thought she could avoid getting in trouble if she ignored the adult. Surely she knew the futility of doing so. Veronica would be here this weekend, which was only a few days away now.

Penny moved the wine cooler to the kitchen counter, then went into the fridge for a cold water bottle. Rachael's phone dinged. Veronica had texted.

Penny is ignoring me now. This isn't a punishable offense, but since she's jobless, there's no good reason to do that. This will be handled this weekend.

Rachael responded with a quick Ok. She knew Penny was in a lot of trouble this weekend and she was only making it worse. Rachael watched Penny plop down on the couch again, still ignoring her phone. Rachael sat beside her and put a hand on her leg.

"You don't seem to be taking Miss Veronica's rules very seriously at all. You're not answering her, either." Rachael waited for a reply. There was conflict on Penny's face. Her past self would have drank, ran, and hid from it all. Drown the feelings of misery, doubt, and worry. The newest version of Penny fought back. She wanted people to help her, but old habits were still so easy to slip into. Reach out and ask for help. Accept the help. There was no shame in being helped. Penny’s old self screamed at the childishness of being helped, but she was actively learning how to redirect that energy.

"I'm sorry." Penny looked down at her lap and tapped her fingers on her legs idly. She wanted to be better. There was solid reasoning behind the silly game of authority that Veronica and Penny played, too. The past was dark and scary, but avoidable in the future. Penny was making good strides towards positive changes in her life and the dynamic that she and Veronica shared was part of that. Maybe Rachael could be, too.

“It’s okay. I love you. I’m sure the rules are hard to follow all the time. I mean...” Rachael realized that Penny could have taken a condescending meaning to that. She quickly corrected, “The rules can change priorities and make you feel like they’re no longer important.”

“Yeah.” Penny looked at Rachael and smiled. She saw only love in Rachael’s face, even though the words stung a bit. “I love you too, kiddo. I need to keep my priorities in order. Things happen, we put on our big girl panties and deal with it… in the right way."

"I want to make a 'big girl panties' joke right now, but I'm not going to. I'm," She raised her hands to make air quotes. " 'mature'. But yes, you're right. We deal with it in the right way. I'm proud of you. No matter what."

"Thank you. Well… I guess we should start packing. Do you want help?"

"No, thank you. I want time alone to think about what I'm doing next. And I don't want to bother you with what I want to do. You're probably not in the mood for me to be a crinkle butt after today, are you?"

"You're right. I'm really not."

"It's settled, then. If you want to talk, call or text me. I want to be present for you," Rachael sighed. "even if 'present' isn't in person."

"Thank you. I guess I can pack, too. My lease is up soon anyway. Thank you for looking after me."

They both went upstairs to pack up Penny's suitcase and Penny left soon afterwards. Rachael was alone in the house now. Rachael could feel an eerie presence once Penny had left. After finishing a good amount of packing, she decided to take a shower, then get ready for bed. Her pajamas tonight would be a tshirt and diaper. Nice and comfortable, but not too babyish. Picking this particular outfit invited self acceptance, but didn’t leave much room to invite self loathing. After her shower, she put on her pajamas for the evening and got into bed. Penny’s scent still clung to her pillow. Rachael wrapped her arms around it, breathing her fragrance in as she closed her eyes.

Outside, the moon lit up the back yard. The presence from before came back. It was less eerie this time. Somehow, it felt the same as a friend coming to visit. Familiar, yet strange. Just as before, Rachael felt something bump her, but not on her skin. It was an emotion inside her head again, but not her own.

Greetings

‘Sal?’ she thought to herself. She opened her eyes and looked around the dim room. At first, she didn’t see anything. Her bedroom was just as it was before. She turned on the lamp and looked at the ceiling, floor, then back to the wall opposite her. Two large, transparent eyes looked back. Rachael jumped at the sight, then recognized them. “Sal!”

Friends. Reunion. Celebration.

“Why are you here? Are you okay? And… you’re real!”

Then an emotion washed over her that was so familiar. A warm, caring comfort. The ability to trust an individual completely. A relationship where dependence was rewarded.

Mother

Rachael felt another emotional surge within her. These emotions felt rich, nearly overpowering compared to Sal’s. Different than Sal’s. A larger presence. Two more eyes popped into existence. They were transparent as well, sized roughly three times the diameter of Sal’s. They were almost larger than the wall. With the eyes came emotions so vivid and rich, they were like words.

Hello. I am mother of the one you call “Sal”.

“You…” Rachael was afraid. She replayed her time with Sal in the holodeck in her head. Sal never hurt her. Surely… his mother, apparently… would not either. As Rachael placed a little trust in this new set of eyes, she could feel Sal’s mom trust her as well.

You escaped my offspring from oblivion.

While nearly the same as words, Rachael was sure that some of the mother’s words were getting lost in translation. It was still incredible that they could communicate at all. “Yes. I help those in need.”

Gifts, I send merrily to you. Suck time is dreams but dreams make fake reality reality.

Rachael was completely lost at the last part. Just as she did with Sal, she repeated it aloud, with mental pictures of what she thought it meant. “Suck time is dreams?”

Apologies. Language is difficult. Pacifier time.

A glowing purple pacifier popped into existence at the edge of the bed. “Suck time is a pacifier. Okay. ‘Is dreams’?”

Pacifier make dreams. Wonderful dreams. Try.

Rachael was hesitant to take a pacifier that seemed to come from a different dimension. She often tended to err on the side of caution. Still hesitant, she looked at Sal and his emotions urged Rachael to try it. Carefully, she picked it up and looked at it. It was slightly warm to the touch and seemed to emanate some kind of energy. Slowly, Rachael put the pacifier in her mouth. It had a hint of chocolate on the teat.

Her bedroom dissolved and suddenly she was on the bridge of a starship. A dream. But in the dream, she didn’t see a pacifier in her mouth. She reached for her mouth anyway and the pacifier was still there. Present, but invisible. Just like the machine at work. Rachael pulled it out and her bedroom was back in an instant.

Pacifier make dreams. Dreams make fake reality reality.

Sal’s mom seemed to sense Rachael’s confusion already, so she rephrased.

Dreams are not real. But not real, changes the real.

“What? Not real changes the real?" Rachael was lost as to what this could mean. And what did that have to do with dreams or a pacifier? She was going to continue asking questions, but Sal’s mom suddenly changed mood. There was a sudden urgency to leave. They had to go away. It was urgent that they go home.

You'll see us again in your dreams.

Then they were gone. No presence, no eyes, no emotions besides her own.

"You'll see us again in your dreams." She thought that was a bit cryptic, among all the other things Sal's mom had said. It had been a long day. Maybe this pacifier would help her get some good sleep. She laid down and brought up the covers. As she turned off the light, the pacifier seemed to glow more brightly.

"Let's see what these dreams are all about." Closing her eyes, she popped in the pacifier and was back on the starship.

A short woman with curly red hair stood in front of her, smiling. To her side, a large brown bear stood with its arms behind its back. It spoke.

"Hello, Captain. We've been expecting you."

--------

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untilweyeetagain · 5 years ago

Text

and i’ll be okay admiring from afar (max mayfield x fem! reader)

Pairing: Max Mayfield/Fem! Harrington! Reader

Word Count: 3337

Warnings: One swear at the end, period-typical homophobia

Notes: This is so self-indulgent lmao,, I hope some of yall like it but even if you don't it doesn't matter bc I really just wrote this for me haha. title is from she by dodie

“Hey, Max, pass me the popcorn,” you whispered, aware that other people in the cinema were still trying to watch whatever movie was playing. You didn’t particularly care what the film was - you had let Max choose it because you knew that you’d spend your time staring at something other than the big screen.

The redhead grabbed the popcorn from where it rested on her lap and wordlessly passed it to you, smiling at you when you whispered your thanks before returning her attention to the movie.

You had spent the last hour of the movie stealing surreptitious glances at the girl next to you, hoping that she was absorbed enough in the action that she didn’t notice. She was beautiful, but you already knew that. The dim lighting in the movie theatre seemed to reveal another type of beauty in her though - the way the lights from the screen danced across her features was mesmerising, and the way her eyes lit up in wonder at the screen in front of you caused your heart to skip a beat more than once.

Having lost yourself in your thoughts once more, you didn’t realise that the film had ended until you heard Max shifting next to you, grabbing her bag from where it lay at her feet. You quickly jumped into doing the same, not wanting her to know that your mind was elsewhere.

“So, how’d you like the film?” She asked as you made your way out of the cinema. You scolded yourself in your head - you should have at least paid attention to some part of the movie because she always asked the same question whenever you two went to the cinema together.

“Um, it was great! You know I prefer comedies to action films, but it was still entertaining. What was your favourite part?” You deflected, knowing that asking that question would send her into a (very cute) ramble about all the best parts of the movie.

As predicted, she immediately launched into a speech about her favourite moments and characters in the film, gesturing wildly in her hands to explain her thoughts about a particular scene. You could honestly listen to her for hours, just to hear her sound so enthusiastic about a topic.

You both made your way through the newly-constructed mall and out towards where your brother was going to pick you up, Max still talking about the movie and you still listening intently, hanging on to every word she said.

Sometimes it worried you, how deeply your feelings towards Max ran, but at other times, such as now, you were just content to be in her presence, ignoring the way your heart stuttered whenever she glanced up at your face.

When you reached the doors of the mall, you and Max made your way towards Steve’s car, finding both he and his friend/coworker Robin occupying the front seats. You pulled open the trunk of the car, grabbing Max’s skateboard and passing it to her before throwing your bag in and slamming it shut.

Turning around, you opened your mouth to say goodbye before pale arms wrapped themselves around your torso and a mess of curly red hair was pushed into your face. You blushed heavily as you returned the tight hug, willing the redness in your cheeks to retreat before Max pulled away.

Eventually, Max broke the hug, but before you could see her face, she spun around and skated off, shouting a goodbye into the air as she gained speed. You called out a quick goodbye too, but it was likely she didn’t hear it, as she was already quite far away.

Deciding to not question why she just ran off like that right now, you clambered into the backseat of your brother’s crappy car and he started the engine, and as he pulled out of the parking lot, Robin turned to you and asked how the movie was. You mumbled something about how it was very intense, repeating some of the things Max had said earlier, hoping that Robin would be satisfied with that answer.

After a few minutes with no reply from Robin (or any input from Steve), you sighed and rested your head on the window, wistfully watching the houses as you passed them as your thoughts turned towards Max again. You knew how you felt about her - you’d known for quite a while, and though it was hard, at first, to feel okay with having a crush on your very female best friend, you were now comfortable enough in your sexuality to admit it to yourself, even if not to others.

The only people who knew you liked girls were, coincidentally, the other two occupants of the car, and while they both knew you liked someone, neither of them knew who (but you had a sneaking suspicion that Robin was beginning to work it out, being the observant person she was).

It had been a great relief to be able to come out to someone you knew would be okay with it, and Robin had been the first of the pair to know, for obvious reasons. She was like the older sister you had never had, and she had comforted you when you had cried to her, still trying to figure out your sexuality - she had reassured you that she didn’t hate you and that Steve wouldn’t either. She had been there when you told Steve too, and, true to her word, Steve took it very well, and had even joked about you two being able to talk about girls together now.

“It’s Max, isn’t it?” Robin whispered, pulling you out of your reverie. Her statement shocked your thoughts into disarray, but at the same time, it wasn’t surprising that your latest parting with Max had solved the puzzle for her.

You nodded, unable to find your voice as tears began to gather in your eyes. Your throat felt full, clogged with words you couldn't say, and your eyes started to burn with unshed tears that you refused to let go. You’d known for so long about your feelings for Max, but hearing them spoken aloud was difficult.

Robin reached around behind her to pat your knee in a comforting gesture, and Steve met your eyes in the mirror, a soft look on his face. Just having the pair of them be so nice about it is enough for the tears to start rolling down your face, all the pent-up worry you had about telling anyone that you were crushing on your best friend evaporating as your brother and the girl who is basically your sister are both so understanding and kind about it.

After sharing a glance with Robin, Steve turns his gaze back to the road as he breaks the silencing, stating: “You should tell her - even if she doesn’t feel the same way, it’s pretty damn clear that she cares about you enough to not ostracize you because of it.”

You snort despite yourself at the words he uses - he’s clearly been hanging out with Dustin and Robin way too much if he knows what ‘to ostracize’ means. You can tell that it was intentional, that he knew the response it would garner, and you are thankful to him for easing the tension you felt.

“It’s not that easy though, Steve. I know that she’s my best friend, but what if she decides that she doesn’t want to be my friend anymore when she finds out I like girls, let alone if she found out I liked her. I couldn’t risk our friendship by telling her. She means too much to me.”

Sighing, you turned to face the window again, trying to signal to the other two that the conversation was over. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing Max’s friendship, especially over something you could quite easily keep from her, although hiding it was becoming increasingly harder as the days passed and your feelings became stronger.

Luckily for you, neither Robin nor Steve pushed you any further, and the three of you spent the remainder of the drive to Robin’s house in silence. Once Robin was safely inside, Steve drove back to your home, which you already knew would be empty. Your parents were never home, always out on business trips or vacations, leaving the house to just you and Steve. This had made it ideal for sleepovers with the Party when you were younger, but now that you were in high school, it was more lonely than anything else.

When you got home, you went upstairs and lay on your bed, grabbing your Rubik’s cube from your bedside table and fiddling with it as your mind drifted elsewhere. It was silent except for the clicking of the cube as you played with it until a tapping on your window interrupted the peace.

Feeling slightly confused, you got up and walked towards the window, opening the blinds to see what was making that noise. Below stood Max, a couple of pebbles in hand, just getting ready to throw another one when she noticed that you had seen her. You raced down the stairs to let her into the house, wondering what she was doing here.

“You could’ve just rung the doorbell like everyone else does. My parents are never home and Steve doesn’t care about who comes over.” She stepped around you to come in as you spoke, and once she’d propped her skateboard against the wall, she turned around to face you.

This close, you could see the tiny freckles that covered the bridge of her nose and her cheeks, and you also thought you could see a pinkness beginning to tinge her cheeks, but that must’ve been your imagination. Before you could ask her why she was here, she began to speak.

“I- when I got home earlier, my dad, he asked where I’d been, and I said out with you, and then he said that while I was out, he’d been through my things in my room and found my old diary, and- and- and he saw what I’d written in there, and then he- he said some really, really mean stuff, Y/N, and t-then he… he kicked me out because of what I’d written in there,” she was sobbing as she spoke, choking on her words as she tried to get them out, and you immediately wrapped her in her arms, trying to tell her that it was going to be okay, even though you had no way of guaranteeing that.

She took a moment to try and catch her breath as she continued to cry, and then she began to speak again. “I had nowhere else to go, Y/N, I- I’ve got no money or clothes or anything, I just grabbed my skateboard to get out of there before he physically threw- threw me out. Please, can I stay here for tonight? I just need to let him calm down, and-” You cut her off before she could finish her sentence, pulling back from the tight hug you had wrapped her in so that you could look her in the eye as you spoke.

“Max, you can stay here for as long as you need, okay? Don’t worry, it’ll all be okay. You can borrow some of my clothes, we’re basically the same size, and you can take one of the guest rooms,” you said, trying to reassure her that it was going to be fine.

As you were talking, you heard your brother come down the stairs to see what had happened, evidently having heard the door open and then the sounds of conversation. You briefly explained what had happened as you held Max close to you again, the redhead in question trying to calm her breathing. At your request, Steve disappeared upstairs once more, off to make sure the room Max would stay in was ready.

“Hey, Maxie, let’s go upstairs, shall we? We can go to my room while Steve sorts out yours, and if you’re okay with it, we can talk some about what you wrote that made your dad do what he did, alright?” You coaxed her up and into your bedroom, sitting down on your bed with her. Her arms were still wrapped around you tightly as if you were her lifeline, and she hadn’t said a word since you’d started talking.

You heard her sigh as she loosened her grip on your torso, flopping bonelessly back against your pillows and reaching for your hand, wanting to maintain some sort of physical connection while she tried to explain what had caused this situation.

“First, before I tell you anything, I need you to swear to me, truthfully, that you won’t stop being my friend when I tell you this. I need you to promise me that things will stay the same between us, no matter how you feel about what I’m about to say.”

“I.. I promise, Max, but I don’t understand why this is really necessary - nothing could make me hate you or stop being your friend! You’re my best friend, Max, and nothing will change that.” It worried you slightly, how serious Max had become about this, but then again, you reasoned, she did get kicked out for this.

“Okay. So, uh, I don’t really know how to say this… um, okay. I’ll just spit it out. Here we go. Y/N, I like girls. Not.. not boys.” Never in a million years could you have guessed that she would say that. But she had said it, and it was causing your brain to short-circuit. Max took your silence as you hated her for it though and immediately began rambling, tears forming in her eyes and falling down her cheeks.

“I- I’m sorry, I know it’s not okay or anything but I can’t help it, and-” you cut her off, tightening the grip you had on her hand as she tried to pull away.

“Hey, hey, stop crying, alright? I was just… shocked, which is why I didn’t say anything. But I don’t hate you and I’m not gonna stop being your friend, okay? So please, please don’t worry about that. It would be quite hypocritical of me to not support you liking girls, after all.”

You maintained eye contact with her until your own confession, when you tore your gaze down to your lap, blushing heavily. She picked up on what you had meant quite quickly, and when you glanced up at you, she was grinning widely.

“You- you mean…?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I, um, I like girls too.”

It was a relief and a half to finally get that off your chest to someone whom you didn’t view as a sibling. There was silence between the two of you for a while, both of you trying to process what the other had just revealed.

All you could think about was that Max likes girls, Max likes girls, she actually likes girls! and although you knew better than to get your hopes up, you did secretly wish that because she liked girls, she’d like you, but you knew it didn’t work like that.

Still, a whisper of hope remained in your heart as you spent the rest of the evening trying to distract Max from her worries with more light-hearted conversation. Steve ordered pizza when it was time for dinner, and the three of you watched some dumb game shows while eating it, laughing over the ridiculous answers some of the contestants gave.

By the time you felt tired enough to sleep, Max was already half-way dead to the world, so you supported her weight back up the stairs and then grabbed her some pyjamas to sleep in. After you were both changed, Max dragged you into her room for cuddles, still needing comfort and reassurance from you.

It didn’t take long for Max to fall asleep, but sleep seemed to be evading you - your heart was hammering too hard from your proximity to your crush for you to feel even a semblance of tiredness.

Eventually, you began extricating yourself from Max’s grip (the girl was surprisingly strong, even in her sleep) so you could get back to your own room. When you were free of the sleeping redhead’s hold, you looked back down at her, taking in the peaceful look on her face.

She was beautiful all the time, but now, she was… breathtaking. The thin light of the moon, unobscured by unclosed curtains, danced across her features, making her seem to glow. She was an angel, then, with an aura of serenity and a halo of hair surrounding her head.

Seeing her like that, all of your control flew out of the window and you acted on impulse, leaning down from your perch beside her to lay a small, feather-light kiss upon her forehead. It lasted only a second, but that second was enough for you to feel how soft her skin was under your lips, and you wished you could kiss her all the time just to feel it again.

Your heart was racing as you forced yourself to move away from her, making your way towards the door, but you stopped dead in your tracks when you heard Max’s soft, sleepy voice from across the room.

“Did you just… kiss me?” She asked. Fuck. Clearly, she hadn’t been as asleep as you had thought. You had no idea how to respond, your mind drawing up blank as you tried to think of something, anything to say.

“... Yes,” you whispered hesitantly, still not turning to look at her even as you heard her shuffling around to be able to see you better. You knew what was about to happen - she would tell you that she didn’t like that, and would either stop being your friend, or your friendship would just be really weird from here on out.

“Come here,” she said, holding out her hand to you, and you never could say no to her, could you? You slowly made your way back to her bed, taking the extended hand and going to sit down on the bed before you found yourself being tugged to lay back down next to Max, who nuzzled her head into the crook of your neck as soon as you were close enough.

“Why?” she asked, the word coming out slightly slurred due to her sleepy state. It was the question you had known was coming but had hoped wouldn’t be voiced.

“Because I,” you started, getting choked up on the words you had suppressed for so long. “I like you, Max. As more than a friend.” There. You said it. There was no taking it back now, but you had some reassurance in the fact that she may not remember it come morning.

You had expected Max to say something after that, so you were fairly surprised when she lifted her head and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. It wasn’t like how first kisses were always described in fiction - there were no fireworks or anything extreme like that, just a warm feeling of affection flowing between the two of you.

“I like you too,” Max murmured, pulling away from your lips and snuggling back into you. She fell asleep quickly, leaving you with your thoughts, the memory of her kiss playing on repeat in your head. Feeling tired yourself, though, you pushed your analysis of today’s events from your head to be dealt with tomorrow and cuddled into Max, finally falling asleep in the warmth and safety of her arms.

Much later in the evening, a tired Steve Harrington is making his way towards his bedroom when he sees the guest room door ajar and, feeling curious, peeks inside to see his sister and her friend tangled together in their sleep. He smiles softly, closing the door behind him as he moves away, thinking about where he’ll get the twenty bucks he now owes Robin.

#max mayfield #stranger things #post-season 3 #robin buckley #steve harrington #max mayfield x reader #max mayfield x fem reader #stranger things oneshot #oneshot

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elyvorg · 4 years ago

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Kaito Momota: How ADHD Can Be

It’s about time I properly shared a take of mine that I never really talk about in my usual analysis posts, which is my very firm headcanon that Kaito has ADHD. While this is partly thanks to me having ADHD myself, self-indulgence is far from the only thing making me think this. There are so many reasons why this makes every single bit of sense, and this post is going to talk about all of them.

And, see, I don’t want to alienate anyone by having them think I’m about to present an interpretation of Kaito that looks nothing like the Kaito we know, because that’s not it at all. I’m here to talk about how so many of the things that were already abundantly true about him also happen to fit perfectly with ADHD. Really, you could think of it more as me talking about how ADHD actually looks a lot more like Kaito than most people might have realised.

After all, ADHD is a frustratingly misrepresented disorder that’s way more complex and interesting than most people are aware. So not only does it make a huge amount of sense to see Kaito as ADHD, it’s also just genuinely fascinating to think that this could be influencing how his mind works and the way he reacts to things throughout the story. Imagining that Kaito has ADHD could never make him any less Kaito, but I do think it makes him yet another layer of interesting on top of everything else he already has going on.

So even if you don’t have any personal investment in ADHD yourself, I hope you can follow along with me for this. There’s a lot of fun stuff to talk about here.

(Since ADHD is so horribly misrepresented that I can’t expect the average person to know what it really involves, this post is also going to include something of a whirlwind explanation of ADHD itself, in order to help people better appreciate why all these things about Kaito are potentially ADHD things. With that said, obvious disclaimer: I am not remotely a mental health professional, just someone with self-diagnosed ADHD who’s read up a lot about it. Some of this will be from things I’ve read, and some of this will be from my own experiences that I’m now pretty sure are an ADHD thing. My descriptions of these symptoms are likely to be somewhat oversimplified because I’m focusing on explaining this headcanon rather than explaining ADHD itself, so please don’t take this as a definitely-100%-accurate ADHD resource. I’m happy if this can raise awareness of what ADHD is really like, but you should look elsewhere to learn more.)

Hyperfixations

One major thing that ought to be more commonly known about ADHD is that it’s really not a lack of attention; it’s an inability to properly control where our attention goes. It’s been described as an “interest-based nervous system” – we’ll involuntarily focus on whatever seems most interesting to us in any given moment, regardless of its objective importance.

This plus a reduced amount of dopamine receptors means that when we manage to find something that gives us a lot of dopamine, ie, is fun and engaging to think about, we cannot stop thinking about it even if we wanted to. Our entire lives will begin to revolve around this Thing that we enjoy, thinking about it, doing things related to it and consuming more information on it to get as much of that sweet dopamine as possible. This can often be to the detriment of everything else, including more objectively important matters, because who cares about that stuff when Thing is the best thing ever!?

As an example: as you might imagine, I have been hyperfixated on DRV3 and especially on Kaito for over two years now. I have not been able to stop thinking about Kaito even when I’m supposed to be doing other things, and there’s literally nothing that’s more fun for me right now than sharing all these thoughts of mine with other people. We also love to infodump about our hyperfixations to anyone who’ll listen, after all. That’s precisely why this post exists, along with many more like it on both my blogs.

SPACE

So, this is perhaps one of the most easy-to-spot signs that Kaito might be ADHD. Because, man, he really loves space. Sure, any astronaut would have at least some level of interest in it, but Kaito is so obsessed with space that he introduces himself with a grandiose space-themed title, wears a galaxy print on his slippers and the inside of his jacket, and simply couldn’t wait for a college degree and had to make sure he got up there as fast as possible.

Granted, it’s not like Kaito talks about space 100% of the time. He is stuck in a killing game, after all, which is also kind of important to pay attention to. But, still, no matter what more-objectively-important things they can push themselves to focus on when necessary, there’s always a part of an ADHDer’s brain that’s near-constantly thinking about their hyperfixation anyway and will take any opportunity to bring it up and make things about that if they possibly can. And, well, Kaito still talks about space quite a lot considering that he’s in a life-or-death situation that doesn’t have anything to do with space at all (at least, as far as he knows for most of the story).

There’s one delightful bit of white noise I absolutely love in a debate in trial 4 where Gonta is suggesting a vehicle could have crossed the river. Someone responds to this with “Like a rocket?”, despite the fact that, A, there were obviously none of those in the Virtual World, and B, you don’t use those to cross rivers. Kaito, you dork, now is not the time. But of course now’s the time, there is always time to be thinking about space-related things, no matter how impractical and irrelevant it might be. Someone has been murdered, everyone else’s lives are on the line – not to mention his illness and the huge pile of inferiority issues he’s struggling with at this point in the story – yet amongst all that, Kaito’s brain still found time to go, “hey, speaking of vehicles, aren’t rockets the coolest!?” And… yeah, that’s genuinely what hyperfixations are like.

Then there’s the time Kaito asked Maki what her favourite spaceship was, like this is just an obvious go-to conversation starter in his mind, because of course he has a favourite spaceship. He has thought a lot about his favourite spaceship (or spaceships; let’s be real, there’s probably several that he thinks are SO COOL and might call his favourite depending on the circumstances) and could fill ages talking about nothing but that. Even though he knows this conversation ought to be making its way towards helping Maki open up about her past – this is one of his training sessions, after all! – there is still a part of Kaito that really just wants to talk about space, because a part of him always wants to talk about space.

We can see this as well in multiple FTE invitation dialogues (those brief lines describing how they hung out before the actual event starts) in which Kaito apparently spends it talking to Kaede or Shuichi about space, just because he can. There’s also several of his hangouts in the Salmon Team bonus mode where Shuichi’s suggestion of what to do doesn’t really have anything to do with space, but Kaito finds a way to make it about space anyway. ADHD minds are hyper-associative and make connections between concepts very easily – and, naturally, they’re particularly liable to make connections to the thing that the mind is already spending the majority of its time thinking about. So it’s really not so surprising or remarkable at all that Kaito can find ways to make even seemingly-totally-unrelated topics about space somehow, not if he’s ADHD.

(…To be fair, a particular fixation on a certain topic to the point of repeatedly bringing it up when it’s not called for isn’t necessarily that uncommon among Danganronpa characters, what with their talents. But hey, that doesn’t have to make Kaito any less likely to be ADHD. Rather, it would actually make sense for Ultimate students to have a higher than average proportion of ADHDers among them, since an ADHD-fuelled level of intense interest in a thing is more likely to make someone become hugely talented at it out of accumulated knowledge and practice. I’ve been increasingly thinking that Kaede could perhaps be ADHD, too, for example. But that’s not for this post; we’re talking about Kaito here.)

The longevity of space

ADHDers will generally go through many different hyperfixations throughout their life, sometimes one at a time, sometimes somehow managing to juggle more than one. An individual hyperfixation tends to last anywhere between a few weeks to a few years depending on its intensity and the longevity of the topic, but it’s rare for it to be more than that. Usually, sooner or later, the overwhelming passion for the thing will wear itself out.

And admittedly, Kaito’s passion for space has been there since he was a kid and never faded – and never will, of course! – which is far more persistent than most hyperfixations tend to be. But then again, there’s so many different things related to space for him to get excited about! Hyperfixations fade either when something else comes along that’s more exciting because it’s new and fresh, or when you’ve squeezed every last possible drop of dopamine out of it such that it no longer holds quite the same thrill. But with a topic as vast as space, there’s always more to learn to keep the excitement fresh, especially now that Kaito’s an astronaut trainee and is really on the front line of new space knowledge and technologies and is actually going to get there himself one day!

Besides, it’s not like ADHDers’ hyperfixations are completely outside of their control. My own hyperfixation on V3 and Kaito would probably have faded ages ago if I hadn’t kept it going by constantly making more content about it such as this. And similarly, there’s no way Kaito would have wanted to let go of his passion for space, not if he had any say in it himself, so he’d have done whatever he could to keep it burning during the times when the spark maybe wasn’t quite there as much. I don’t think it’s at all unreasonable that Kaito could have remained hyperfixated on space for so unusually long and still be showing no signs of stopping. We all know how stubborn he is.

(House plants)

Kaito has probably had a few other, lesser hyperfixations alongside his lifelong passion for space. For example, I like to think that his fondness for house plants, according to his report card, is to such an extent that he was once hyperfixated on them. (This would have been for reasons that totally don’t bear a suspicious resemblance to other things he cares about.) I doubt he’s currently hyperfixating on them at the moment – at no point does he ever try to shift the conversation to being about house plants unprompted – but that wouldn’t stop him from still being generally fond of them and retaining all of the “useless” information he learned about them back when he was obsessed. One very rarely ever stops caring about a hyperfixation topic entirely; rather, the fixation just fades and the topic becomes no longer constantly on someone’s mind. I’m sure Kaito still could and would talk your ear off about house plants just as much as he would about space if you happened to get him started.

People

More importantly, though, I think that another of Kaito’s less obvious and intense hyperfixations – but still a very long-lasting one that’s active right now – could be, simply, people. Just, people in general: their flaws and complexities and differences, all the many ways in which they can communicate and work together, and the amazing potential they have to achieve great things if they do so. Kaito is so passionate about this stuff and has so many fully-formed opinions on things of this nature that make it seem like he’s spent a lot of his free time thinking about this, just because he can. Maybe he began to get interested in it after realising that communication and teamwork is important for an astronaut – but it also reads to me like Kaito is into this kind of stuff not because he needs to be for the sake of getting into space, but simply because he finds it genuinely fascinating and couldn’t stop thinking about it even if he had to. (Which would also help keep him interested in space, because it’s intrinsically linked to this other topic that Kaito finds fascinating!)

And within this, Kaito definitely hyperfixates in particular on his sidekicks. Once he’s made someone into his sidekick, which functionally means that he’s going to devote himself to supporting them through their issues and helping them reach their potential, he really devotes himself. It’s his hyperfixation on people in general, but concentrated on a specific person(s) that he can have a direct and tangible impact on, which means even more to him than just his feelings about how awesome and fascinating humanity is as a whole.

Kaito is really, really good at supporting his sidekicks, after all. He spends so much time, even when he’s not around them, thinking about what their problems are and the best ways he can help them. He was clearly eyeing up both Shuichi and Maki as potential sidekicks at least a day or two before actually acting on it and inviting them to training, as if he was trying to gauge exactly what their struggles were and how best to help before jumping right in. He approaches helping each of them in very different ways, making it clear that he’s specifically thought about who they are and the best tactics to help them individually instead of just carelessly using the same old script each time. On more than one occasion, he drops something on them one morning – the nickname “Maki Roll”, and the “bonus” training that becomes the katana scene – that he hadn’t mentioned at all the previous night, meaning that he’d been thinking further about how to keep helping them while on his own overnight.

So it seems to me like maybe it’s not just his selflessness, or his somewhat unhealthy co-dependency (more on that later, actually) that makes Kaito so good at this. I don’t think he could even stop thinking about helping his sidekicks if he tried. Figuring out how to help another human being grow and change and reach their full potential is so fascinating and engaging and rewarding to him that how could he ever not be compelled to do that as much as he possibly can?

The price of caring

This does, however, come with a downside. Because Kaito is fixating so strongly and uncontrollably on supporting his sidekicks, because doing that matters so much to him, it’s only going to hurt him more when he begins to feel like he’s failing at it. He can’t just brush something like that off as not really a big deal, because of course it’s a big deal. It’s everything to him, and it’s literally not possible for him to make himself feel like it isn’t.

It’s just as bad as if space suddenly twisted and became painful to think about somehow. Which… I guess that actually kind of happens too, when Kaito starts to realise that he’s never going to make it up there. And he can’t deal with that by trying to tell himself it was never that important, either, because space is always important to him. Even if he wanted to switch that part of his brain off or ignore it to help himself cope, he just couldn’t.

Caring so intensely about things feels amazing and makes a person wonderfully passionate, but it can also be a double-edged sword.

(Executive dysfunction?)

One big negative side to ADHD is that it tends to cause executive dysfunction, which, to massively oversimplify it, more or less means the profound inability to get yourself to do things that you know you’re supposed to be perfectly able to do. That interest-based nervous system does not do well with motivating us to do tasks that are objectively important but aren’t interesting or fun to actually carry out, resulting in a mental block that can appear to the outside observer like wilful laziness, even though it really, really isn’t.

This appears to be one part of ADHD that Kaito manages to avoid having to deal with. (He may superficially seem “lazy” during training, but that has nothing to do with his brain and everything to do with his body and the fact that he’s sick and doesn’t want anyone to know.) But I think that’s mostly because none of the reasons that ADHD causes executive dysfunction actually apply in the killing game.

One of the few things other than interest that motivates an ADHD brain is urgency – suddenly they can do that boring essay they’ve been putting off when the deadline is tonight, showing remarkable speed and focus in a fit of nervous anxiety over the potential consequences of turning it in late. And there’s plenty of literal do-or-die urgency to motivate Kaito during the killing game, so there’s no way he’d ever not be motivated to do what he feels he needs to do to help everyone there. Plus, the things he’s trying to do involve helping people, something he inherently finds interesting, so he’d be motivated for those reasons anyway even if it wasn’t quite so life-threateningly vital that he does so.

(Kaito is a bit flakier and liable to miss important details during the investigations and trials, mind you. This might be because, while the urgency of “if we don’t solve the case we die” is looming over him, the actual details of the case aren’t something that instinctively feels urgent or that he inherently finds interesting, so it’s harder for him to pay proper attention and take it all in even when he’s trying to. Kaito has plenty of intelligence in a lot of ways, but his brain is evidently not wired for investigations and deductions like Shuichi’s is – he’s perfectly capable of following Shuichi’s logic and understanding it, but not of figuring any of that stuff out himself in the first place. This could partly be down to Kaito having ADHD and just not being interested enough in these particular kinds of mental exercises to be able to get his brain to focus on them as much as he’d need to in order to solve them.)

I also don’t think executive dysfunction would have got in Kaito’s way much during his regular life before the killing game. (You know, if he’d actually had one, but let’s pretend for now that he did.) Motivation issues can be helped a lot by an externally-imposed structure telling you what you need to do and when, which is why a lot of ADHD people don’t even notice any problems while they’re in a school system and only fall apart once they’re adults and are suddenly expected to structure their own life. Kaito’s astronaut training would definitely give him plenty of structure to work from so that he always knew what he needed to do and never had this issue. It’s also really challenging, which is another thing that helps keep ADHD people interested and motivated. And while the actual end goal of getting to space is far-off enough that it wouldn’t be able to work as a direct motivator to an ADHD brain (we are bad at things with delayed gratification), everything Kaito’s learning would still be related to space and communication and teamwork, so he’d be interested in learning all of it simply for its own sake.

Emotional hyperarousal

Another big defining feature of ADHD that isn’t nearly as well-known as it ought to be is that it amplifies emotions to a far greater intensity than those of neurotypical people. ADHDers’ feelings and reactions are naturally bigger and louder and just more than most people’s – which sounds a lot like Kaito, doesn’t it? He’s always larger than life, energetic and passionate about everything, not just his specific hyperfixations. Look at how excited he gets about just seeing snow! And he has so much enthusiasm for so much else, too – as he puts it: “there’s nothing unnecessary in this world!” When Kaito feels things, he feels them full-throttle, with no half-measures, which is just how Kaito would always want things to be!

…But, whether he likes it or not, that also applies to the painful feelings just as much as the good ones.

Emotional dysregulation

Kaito can often be very reactionary and get unnecessarily riled up over minor things that don’t really warrant such a dramatic response. If you think about it, this isn’t really something he’d want to do, because he’s always trying to stay positive and keep people on his side. So apparently it’s something he simply can’t help, as if his brain is just wired to make him more liable to do that.

If even minor slights can cause an overreaction like that from an ADHD brain, then imagine how much worse it is when the stimulus is something genuinely worth being upset over. That already-painful emotion gets amplified to even greater levels, to the point that it can be almost unbearable. People with ADHD can often have a more difficult time dealing with things, not necessarily because they’re emotionally weaker, but because they simply feel things harder than most other people do.

Kaito goes through a lot of emotional pain throughout the story – and he’s really pretty bad at dealing with it all. He basically has only two not-very-healthy methods for doing so. One is to try to ignore it entirely by focusing on something more positive, which on its own could be put down to his desire to come across as an invincible hero who can inspire people. So this particular unhealthy tactic doesn’t necessarily mean that he wouldn’t be able to properly deal with these emotions if he actually stopped being an idiot and tried to.

However, Kaito’s second unhealthy coping mechanism is to turn the pain into anger – sometimes to the point of lashing out in ways he doesn’t mean to. Punching Shuichi at the end of the first trial is very much caused by Kaito being unable to contain his pain over Kaede’s death rather than any controlled attempt to push Shuichi forward, since he regrets it and apologises for it the next morning. And then the agonising truth that Gonta killed someone is even harder for Kaito to bear, leading to him lashing out at Shuichi again in what was very much desperate pain-fuelled anger with no rational basis for it. Unlike with simply hiding his pain, lashing out like this is not something Kaito would ever want to do; it’s not exactly very heroic of him, after all. So this suggests that there’s more to Kaito’s bad coping mechanisms than just him trying to appear strong and not worry people – that sometimes the pain gets so unbearably intense that ignoring it isn’t possible and he just can’t deal with it and loses control of himself.

Uncontrollable bouts of rage can be a common problem that comes with ADHD because of the amplified emotions and difficulty properly regulating them – and it’s definitely a problem Kaito suffers from, too. That part of Kaito that lets him get so wonderfully passionate in helping everyone around him might well be exactly the same part of him that simply cannot handle it when he realises Gonta murdered someone and leads to him lashing out at his best friend.

Moping (…not a technical term)

…Okay, I just said Kaito has only two unhealthy coping mechanisms for painful emotions, but maybe there’s also kind of a third: unconstructively moping about it. This doesn’t sound like Kaito at all – he frequently gives others advice about not doing exactly that – but he can actually be seen falling into doing so a couple of times if you look closely.

In chapter 2, when Ryoma’s behaviour bothers him for all the wrong reasons and he has no intent of actually doing something about it, Kaito really should be just trying not to think about it at all and focusing on something more constructive like helping Shuichi. However, the places he hangs out in for his chapter 2 FTEs and his invitation dialogues indicate that he spends a whole three FTE slots just brooding unhelpfully about the state Ryoma’s in. This is definitely not something he wants to be doing, since he hastily changes the subject if Shuichi hangs out with him.

And in case 4’s investigation, after Shuichi’s cell phone experiment makes Kaito feel useless and unneeded (he thought Shuichi needed his help! – but, no, turns out he actually really didn’t), the pain of that feeling noticeably lingers with him for most of the rest of the investigation. He’s in enough of a bad mood about it afterwards that Maki notices it through his less-expressive virtual avatar, and he doesn’t even come with her to call Shuichi back from the rooftop and just logs out on his own in a sulk. Then he also ends up explicitly unaware in the trial of some of the information Monotaro shared with the whole group once they’d logged out, meaning he was apparently still too wrapped up in feeling useless to be paying proper attention.

(And these are the two examples of Kaito doing this that are noticeable thanks to subtle clues in his behaviour – but since Kaito would obviously never draw attention to it, maybe he actually does this a lot more than those two times and we just can’t normally see it.)

See, another thing about emotional dysregulation – plus the difficulty in controlling the focus of your attention that comes with ADHD – is that it can be hard to stop yourself from thinking endlessly about painful things, even when you very much don’t want to be thinking about them. I once saw a tumblr post describing ADHD as Chronic Cannot Leave It Alone Disorder, and I can confirm that, yes, this is very frustratingly accurate, for the bad things as well as the good. It’s possible that Kaito’s advice about not moping when you could be doing something to make a difference might have originated for himself, to try and mitigate his brain’s tendency to do this. But while I imagine this helped quite a bit in letting him control his thoughts and stay focused on the positives, it appears that, despite his best efforts, it still doesn’t always work.

Impulsiveness

The Primarily-Hyperactive subtype of ADHD (aka the one that’s definitely the subtype Kaito has, for obvious reasons) is sometimes called Hyperactive-Impulsive type, because impulsiveness tends to be a big part of it, too. I think this is kind of a combination of emotional hyperarousal and inability to control attention – the impulse to Do A Thing gets amplified to the point that it floods the entire brain, and it becomes nigh-impossible to ignore it and consider the potential negative consequences before acting on it. It’s like that Chronic Cannot Leave It Alone Disorder gets concentrated into a single instant of frequently-terrible decision-making.

It’s no secret that Kaito is impulsively reckless – and if you think about it, it’s to an extent that’s honestly kind of pathological. Cheating his way into the astronaut exam early, for example, could very well have permanently ruined his chances of ever being allowed in and making it to space. He should never have considered that a risk worth taking. So apparently he just wasn’t properly considering the risk at all – not even for the most important decision of his life.

A lot of the time, these kinds of bad decisions can be fuelled by those amplified painful emotions that get turned into anger like I talked about before. The stress of the killing game causes Kaito to very nearly get himself killed on two occasions early in chapter 1, almost lashing out in a way that would have broken school regulations. Kaito is perfectly aware of the consequences for doing that – but in the heat of the moment, it just doesn’t matter to him. His overwhelming desire to express his pain-fuelled rage simply blocks out everything else from his mind. A similar thing happens in chapter 5 when Kaito’s attempt to punch Kokichi after the supposed mastermind reveal only results in him getting knocked out and captured by the Exisals that were very obviously there and under Kokichi’s control. It’s summed up pretty well by the fact that Kokichi outright tells Kaito that punching him won’t fix any of the things he’s angry about, and Kaito’s response is, “Even if that is the case… I can’t get over it if I don’t punch you!” To Kaito, in these moments, it’s never about the consequences; it’s about needing to let out his too-strong emotions right now and to hell with everything else, even if that “everything else” literally might include his life.

Then there’s everything that happens with Kaito at the casino. The consequences for him here aren’t exactly dire, since all he loses out on is the chance to buy a prize, but still – that uncontrollable fixation on the anticipated thrill of winning and the inability to consider the really-very-high possibility that he’ll lose is exactly the type of reckless thrill-seeking that people with this type of ADHD often have.

In fact, the bonus scene at the casino is literally titled “Kaito’s Gambling Problem” – and as you might imagine, impulsive-type ADHDers are at a higher risk of developing harmful addictions to things such as gambling. While this isn’t an actual gambling problem here because no real money is involved and it does seem that he never gets tempted by the casino again after the second time, the scene’s title apparently wants us to consider that Kaito has the potential to develop a legitimate gambling problem should he ever get old enough to legally gamble in the real world. Which is a weirdly specific thing for the writers to make a point of when it has no bearing on the plot… so it makes me wonder if they could have actually been trying to tell us something here.

This kind of impulsiveness can also cause people to blurt out their thoughts without thinking about the consequences, potentially resulting in upsetting someone or embarrassing themselves. At first glance, considering that he has a lot of thoughts he’s determined to hide from the surface, Kaito doesn’t seem to have too much of a problem with this kind of impulsiveness. If he did, you’d think he’d find himself muttering stuff like “I feel like crap”, or “I hate this place” all the time and then having to hastily paper over it and insist that no that’s definitely not how he’s really feeling at all. So apparently, he’s fairly good at thinking before he speaks when it matters to him?

Except, when he’s in the Virtual World, Kaito makes multiple unthinking comments to the effect of “I like this avatar body”, which he has to awkwardly brush off when Shuichi questions him, since it rather hints that something’s up with his real body. He’s suddenly really bad at this, even though he was pretty good at it the rest of the time.

So maybe what’s going on is this: in an effort to stay positive at all times because he’s Kaito, Kaito trained himself to have a constant, unshakeable mental filter that prevents himself from impulsively blurting out how he’s feeling if it’s something negative. However, he can’t stop himself from still randomly blurting out whatever positive things are on his mind. This usually isn’t a problem, but it can sometimes include things – it feels so great to not be dying for once! – that he really doesn’t want to be voicing either, if he only gave it a moment more thought.

Rejection sensitive dysphoria

Often shortened to RSD, rejection sensitive dysphoria is a specific and especially nasty kind of emotional hyperarousal / dysregulation that almost all ADHDers suffer from. (At least, I feel like it should probably be classified as a subtype of that, though I’m not sure if that’s the official take, so don’t quote me on this.) The ADHD researcher who coined the term defines it as: “extreme emotional pain triggered by the perception – not necessarily the reality – that a person has been rejected or criticised by important people in their life. It may also be triggered by a sense of falling short and failing to meet their own high standards or others’ expectations.” That second sentence is important and frequently overlooked, because it indicates that, despite the name, this isn’t only about perceived rejection by others; it can also be about an entirely personal sense of failure.

I first read about this concept while I happened to be hyperfixating on Kaito’s mindset specifically in early chapter 5, aka that time he avoids Shuichi out of shame over feeling like he failed him in the previous trial, due to his own unreasonably high standards for being a “hero”. (If you didn’t realise that this is what’s going on with Kaito in early chapter 5, go read this other post of mine and get caught up, because you’re going to need to be for the rest of this section.) And, naturally, though I was supposed to be reading that article about RSD to help me figure out if I had ADHD, my brain made some connections. That was the moment I began to have this headcanon; everything else in this post blossomed from that as I thought about it more and realised a lot of other things about Kaito also fit this incredibly well.

The null hypothesis

So, let’s consider early chapter 5. In fact, let’s assume for a moment that Kaito doesn’t have ADHD and his emotions function like a regular person’s. He would still, of course, feel like he’s utterly failed Shuichi by showing himself to be weaker than him and doing the opposite of supporting him during trial 4. That part’s not specifically based in anything ADHD and is just a product of Kaito’s psychological issues about heroes, which I’ve already talked about plenty in that post I just linked. (I don’t want anyone to think that my ADHD headcanon is getting in the way of or diminishing any of that; this is just another layer on top of it.)

Kaito really wants to make things right and apologise for his mistakes in the trial (and for his really-not-actually-mistakes too, for that matter). He really wants to fix the rift between him and Shuichi and not leave the two of them painfully torn apart like this. He knows the responsibility to do so is on him and not Shuichi. But… he doesn’t do it. Why not?

The only possible reason would be that he’s just being a coward and running away from the guilt and shame he’s feeling rather than facing up to it. Except… Kaito’s not a coward. He may arguably seem like one in some ways given how he refuses to acknowledge his weaknesses to his sidekicks – but that’s not to protect himself and his own emotions; it’s because he’s idiotically convinced that it’s better for them that way. Here, now that he believes he’s already failed Shuichi as badly as he ever could, he should feel like he has nothing more to lose on that front (and Shuichi never even needed him anyway, right?), so there should be no harm in owning up to it and at least apologising for what he’s done wrong.

Granted, Kaito is busy trying to make up for his failure through his totally-great escape plan – but that’s still no reason why he can’t also apologise first and then keep trying to make up for things with the plan anyway. And it’s not at all like it was in the trial itself, when he was too wound-up in the heat of the moment to be thinking clearly. He’s had plenty of time to process what happened and regain control of himself and become consciously aware of what he knows is the right thing to do here.

The guilt and shame Kaito would be feeling from his belief that he’s failed Shuichi would still hurt pretty bad, sure – but I don’t think, if it really is a proportionate emotional response to what he feels like he’s done, that it’d be something he couldn’t face up to. He’s incredibly resilient and knows that sometimes you’ve just gotta face painful things head-on, and he should be more than willing to do so for the sake of making things at least slightly better between him and Shuichi.

So, I argue this: Kaito avoiding Shuichi the way he does in early chapter 5 doesn’t quite make sense unless he has ADHD. (Or perhaps some other neurological disorder that would have a similar effect on his emotions, but I’m not knowledgeable enough to be sure what other possibilities could fit.)

Too much pain

I can confirm from experience: RSD freaking sucks. Any feeling of “I should be able to do this, but I messed it up”, or any seemingly innocuous comment from someone you care about where they either point out a mistake you made or that could possibly be interpreted to mean they don’t really care about you that much – these things can hurt like hell, so much more than they have any right to. It’s as if that insignificant twinge of disappointment that most people would feel just gets multiplied by like a thousand until it practically feels like you’ve been stabbed in the chest. And I should note: the rejection version tends to be triggered by people important to you, but I find it’s especially bad if it’s someone I not only care about but also look up to. You know, like Kaito very definitely does to Shuichi.

Case 4 has plenty of things that would trigger RSD for Kaito before even getting into the worst parts of the trial. That cell phone incident in the investigation I mentioned earlier, where Kaito thought Shuichi needed his help for a second and then ended up feeling like he really never did at all? And all the times Shuichi shoots down one of Kaito’s arguments in the trial and tells him he’s wrong (which happens seven times, by the way)? Every single one of those seemingly-minor moments would have hurt Kaito not just a little, but one hell of a lot. It’s honestly really impressive and a testament to Kaito’s resilience that he managed to keep himself together and show barely any signs of how he was feeling for as long as he did.

It’s also very relevant that RSD is known to potentially trigger an externalised response of instantaneous rage, exactly like the outbursts of anger I mentioned in the previous section. I’ve already talked plenty elsewhere about how a lot of the pain that’s causing Kaito to lash out in trial 4 isn’t just over Gonta’s guilt but is also over how he’s being made to feel like a horribly inferior failure compared to Shuichi – and, yep, that’s still a perfect match to Kaito having ADHD.

By the end of the trial, Kaito’s issues and irrationalities have rendered him convinced that he’s utterly failed to be the hero he’s supposed to be, and that Shuichi obviously doesn’t need him or care about him any more (if he ever even did in the first place). That’s giving Kaito plenty of genuine conscious reason to be hurting pretty damn hard to begin with, before his ADHD brain-wiring even sinks its claws into it. Now try to imagine that pain getting disproportionately multiplied by like a thousand – fucking ouch, and then some. Nobody, not even someone as brave and resilient as Kaito, should ever be expected to be able to face up to that, to actively make it even worse by talking about it and bringing those feelings to the forefront, especially not when doing so would just be showing even more weakness to the person it hurts so much to show weakness to. I don’t believe it’d be fair to call anyone a coward for that.

Kaito’s not a coward; he avoids Shuichi in early chapter 5 because he is genuinely in too much pain to bear. The only way he can deal with it at all (now that he’s not in the heat of trial 4 and is very determined to at least not make things even worse by lashing out in anger again) is by simply trying to pretend the problem doesn’t exist. If he manages to prove himself as a hero, maybe it’ll stop hurting quite as much and he’ll be able to face up to it, but until then, avoiding the pain is all he can do.

(Obligatory Harmonious Heart mention)

Since I relish the opportunity to bring this scene up whenever I can, I might as well add that Kaito’s Harmonious Heart event is another instance in which he’d be feeling some pretty rough RSD – at least, in every outcome except the best one in which Shuichi reassures him that they’re friends and it’s okay to open up to your friend. It’d be especially bad in the worst outcome where Kaito realises Shuichi has seen his “weakness” and feels like he’s failed him. Probably not quite as bad as in canon, but still, ouch.

In fact, an interesting thing about that worst outcome is that Kaito specifically says he feels “so embarrassed”, which, when you think about it, doesn’t really sound like the kind of thing anyone would expect Kaito to ever describe himself as feeling, even at a time like this. However, I know from my own experience that “embarrassment” is in fact something that it’s easy to mistake RSD for when you don’t know what it is – just an embarrassment that’s somehow agonisingly painful, because that’s totally how embarrassment usually works for most people, right. So, A, this fits perfectly yet again, and B, since you’d usually not think to have Kaito ever use that word… it makes me wonder if the writer for this scene knew.

Coping methods (and why Kaito doesn’t have them)

Of course, it’s not like there aren’t methods to try to combat and mitigate the incredible pain that RSD can bring. One that I’ve found works really well (thanks to Kaito himself!) is exercising. It really helps to burn off that excessive emotional energy – and not necessarily just RSD, but any of the disproportionately painful emotions ADHD brings – by translating it into physical energy. “Let your sweat wash away all your sadness, fear, worry and hardships; just start moving your body and your pain will become memories before you know it,” actually sums up how this feels pretty well! It’s quite possible that this advice – heck, maybe his entire exercise-to-help-the-mind thing in general – is something else that Kaito first came up with for himself, after he found that it helped him calm down and feel better whenever he’d get too upset about something.

…So it’s really rather cruel that Kaito’s worsening illness also happens to lock him out of one of his only genuinely-healthy coping mechanisms for what he’s going through emotionally in chapters 4 and 5, isn’t it.

Another thing that’s really helped me in dealing with my own RSD is simply understanding it. When you know that it’s a disproportionate emotional response, you can remind yourself that things aren’t truly as bad as the pain is making them feel like they are, which makes it easier to take steps to stop it hurting, such as talking to the friend who unintentionally triggered it and having them reassure you that of course they care about you. Without that understanding of it, it’s all too easy to think, “if it hurts this much, I must deserve to be hurting this much,” which, yeah, that’s a bad path to go down.

One pretty important part of my headcanon that Kaito has ADHD, then, is that he definitely has no idea he has it. If he’d been diagnosed with it at some point in his life, he’d understand these problems of his better. Even if the doctors never told him all these things I’ve been mentioning here about how ADHD actually works (which is way too disappointingly common, so I gather), Kaito would have researched this stuff himself at some point, in order to better understand himself and know his limits so that he can work around them to be the best person he can be. He wouldn’t want to let anything get in the way of him helping others as much as he can and achieving his dream of going to space, not even the idiosyncrasies of his own brain. And, heck, he’d probably find it interesting if only he had a reason to look into it in the first place! Many ADHDers hyperfixate on ADHD, and Kaito definitely seems like someone who would have if he’d known.

So, if Kaito was aware of his ADHD, he’d be able to recognise what he’s going through in early chapter 5 as RSD and handle it better. He’d know that, no matter how much it hurts, things aren’t actually quite as bad as it feels like, and that apologising to Shuichi sooner rather than later is almost certainly the best way forward even if the prospect of doing so seems terrifying as all hell. For that matter, if Kaito knew about his ADHD and what it really involved, he’d almost certainly have trained himself to be able to deal with a lot of his more troublesome symptoms better than he ever does in canon.

Friendship difficulties

Because of their differently-wired brains, ADHDers can often struggle to connect with the rest of the world that doesn’t think the same way as them. And here’s a fun subtle thing about Kaito that ought to get talked about more: he’s not actually very skilled or experienced at making friends. Having sidekicks that he can inspire and support, and being a general encouraging influence on a wider group of people to keep them working together – sure, that stuff comes naturally to him. But regular, everyday friendship? Not so much.

This isn’t that easy to spot, because most of the time we see Kaito, he’s deliberately focusing on motivating people, which he’s great at. But there are a few instances here and there where Kaito interacts with people in a not-specifically-motivational way: his attempts to befriend Kaede (who doesn’t need his support), his earlier FTEs with Shuichi (which should be happening before training starts), and the conversation with Shuichi and Maki in chapter 4’s second training scene (before Maki begins talking about her past).

In all of these, Kaito turns out to actually be a huge awkward goof who doesn’t seem to have the first clue how to do regular interpersonal interactions. And basically everything about him being this way can potentially be explained by ADHD.

Too many thoughts

It’s never quiet and organised in an ADHD brain; whenever we’re not hyperfocusing on one specific thing, our minds always have like five different thoughts rattling around in them at once. So, consider the conversation with Shuichi and Maki, which Kaito was attempting to treat like a Regular Conversation (rather than the chance to help Maki open up that it definitely actually was in his head). Perhaps, in his efforts to do small talk, not one but several different possible small talk questions popped into his head at once and clamoured for his attention, such that a couple of them – “what blood type are you?” and “what [something] do you like?” – got accidentally merged together when he opened his mouth to speak. That plus his impulsive lack-of-filter meant that out came “What blood type do you like?” and Kaito sounding like a doofus.

(When Maki points out that this is a strange question, Kaito awkwardly laughs it off. It almost seems like he’s used to accidentally saying things people consider weird during his attempts at normal conversation and has learned to try and act like it’s nothing so he doesn’t push anyone away.)

This disorganisation in ADHD minds also tends to make them get too caught up on unnecessary details they find interesting and wander off down random mental tangents rather than whatever they’re supposed to be talking or thinking about. I once saw a tumblr post that said ADHDers are likely to tell “stories that start sooner than they need to and end somewhere other than the point” – and this happens to be a literally perfect description of the story Kaito tells Shuichi in his second and third FTEs. He was supposed to be telling Shuichi how he became interested in space. He began by talking about finding a treasure map and conquering the seas, and he finished with how he was busy conquering the land when his summer vacation ended. At no point did he mention space; he’d got so wrapped up in the story itself that he’d completely forgotten that was meant to be the point.

Kaito also has a bit of a tendency to make strange statements that appear to make perfect sense to him even though they kind of don’t to anybody else. He wants to learn to play the piano for when he goes to space? Well, of course; he might meet an alien! You can’t ever know how malicious other people’s secrets are? Sure, but that’s why you just gotta believe in… yourself! These really do make perfect sense in Kaito’s head (the first is about communication; the second is about people-reading skills). But it seems, perhaps, that his overly-active mind made connections too fast and jumped several tracks at once, to the point that he didn’t realise he was skipping a few steps of his explanation and that it wouldn’t make so much sense to the people listening. Which is also a thing that ADHD people are liable to do.

Too loud and excitable

A less immediately obvious thing that’s strange about Kaito’s behaviour in the chapter 4 training chat is that, when Shuichi essentially just straight-up asks Maki to start talking about her issues, Kaito admonishes him for being too direct and claims he can’t just do that. This seems odd coming from Kaito, who’s usually nothing but direct in his approaches to encouraging people, and who definitely also intended to prompt Maki into talking about her issues here.

But, apparently because he’s trying to present this as a Regular Normal Friend Conversation, Kaito didn’t think he was meant to be so direct in this context. Which suggests he’s learned through experience that his usual kind of directness that works great for encouragement apparently just kind of puts people off when it’s used in a regular conversation. So instead, he was trying to work his way towards hopefully maybe getting Maki to open up through awkward small talk that he must know he’s terrible at – no wonder he was miffed when Shuichi casually went and committed the exact social “faux-pas” he’d been trying to avoid, with complete confidence that it’d actually be fine, and it turned out it was. (Whoops, there goes Shuichi effortlessly being better than him at everything Kaito finds difficult, like always.)

Nonetheless, Kaito probably has good reason to be worried about coming across as too direct (outside of sidekick contexts, where that’s just the best way to get through to someone and help). Because, when he’s not actively trying to avoid it, he does have a tendency to get a bit carried away with things and put people off as a result. Remember the time he asked Kaede for a hug? There’s absolutely no reason to assume this was romantic or sexual in nature, because it already makes more than enough sense to think that Kaito was just so excited at meeting someone so similar to him and thought she was Super Cool and just really wanted to be her friend!!! So he impulsively expressed that sentiment in a rather-too-forward way that he was too caught up in his excitement to realise was going to come across as rather inappropriate.

Not that being too overly excitable and direct about things necessarily has to lead to behaviour that’s outright inappropriate in order to cause problems. (Though please never forget that Kaito asked for the hug and respected Kaede’s boundaries when she said no.) Even if he’s not doing anything wrong, Kaito being his usual larger-than-life self all the time might just come across as a bit Much and be kind of weird and off-putting for a lot of people. It’s that emotional hyperarousal again, which I mostly talked about the negative side of in the earlier section – but the positive side of it, amplifying the good emotions to make someone more enthusiastic and passionate, can still (completely undeservedly) be a negative thing in a social context with others who just aren’t wired the same way.

In Kaito’s second FTE, wrapped up among his ridiculous overblown childish fiction, he appears to potentially be talking about an actual playmate he had at the time who joined in his game of pretending to be a sea captain. Then they had a fight and Kaito never saw him again – and he presents that like it was just part of his game, too, but this can likely be taken to mean that they had a falling out that never got resolved and stopped being friends. If so, I can’t help but assume that this was probably because tiny Kaito was a little bit too boisterous and excessive in his playing – while still not necessarily doing anything wrong – that it overwhelmed this other kid to the point that he didn’t really want to join in any more.

There’s also one bit of FTE invitation dialogue where Kaito claims he’s about to teach Kaede how to have peace of mind… and then he tells stories that make her question his definition of that. Which makes a lot of sense considering that ADHD minds, particularly hyperactive-type ones, are never relaxed for even a moment. Kaito doesn’t know how not to be energetic and over-the-top even when the people he’s with just want to wind down and relax, which also wouldn’t really do him any favours in terms of making friends.

But none of that is Kaito’s fault; he’s not trying to be selfish or drive these people away. It’s simply the way his mind is, always going full-throttle when most other people’s usually aren’t. He just gets so excited about so many things and has a hard time toning that down. Besides, why would Kaito even want to tone it down and be boringly down-to-earth when his mind could be up in space instead!? That’s much better! …except that most other people don’t see it that way.

Too much infodumping

In the training chat, after embarrassing himself with a bungled small talk question and being shown up by Shuichi making it look like it’s actually somehow not a problem to be too direct after all, Kaito attempts to bring things back around to small talk with the, uh, “safe” option of asking Maki what her favourite spaceship is. Which isn’t really small talk at all, of course – but then, actual small talk is hard for ADHD people, because it’s not interesting enough to care about paying proper attention to. They’d much rather be acting on that constant desire to talk about something they’re interested in, such as one of their hyperfixations, which is not always the best way to connect with others who don’t happen to be interested in the same thing.

(Fortunately, since another of his hyperfixations is Maki and her issues, Kaito is perfectly happy to listen once she starts talking about her past, and the conversation shifts back to a comfortable hero-and-sidekick situation again rather than an awkward and confusing how-do-I-friends???)

There’s another of those FTE invitation dialogues in chapter 1 where Kaito tells Kaede he’s a good listener… and then apparently Kaede spends the entire time listening to him instead. Except, obviously Kaito really is a good listener when it’s in his hero-and-sidekick context and he’s helping someone with their problems, because he’s invested in supporting them and so it’d be easy for him to pay attention. But perhaps, when it’s in a regular friendship context and the person he’s talking to doesn’t need his help (like Kaede doesn’t), Kaito’s not quite so good at listening because he’s not necessarily as interested in what they have to say. So he might be liable to just impulsively act on the desire to talk about the things he wants to (such as SPACE; there is always time for space) and then get so focused on it that he overlooks the other person’s feelings and genuinely doesn’t realise he’s coming across as kind of brash and self-absorbed.

Kaito’s second and third FTEs with Shuichi are an even better illustration of this. Upon Shuichi choosing to hang out with him for a second time, Kaito apparently realises Shuichi is interested enough in him to possibly want to be his friend. So he responds to this by… launching into a huge ridiculous story about his (completely make-believe) heroic adventures as a kid. This kind of one-sided conversation and bizarre topic choice is not, in fact, a great way to make friends with someone, but Kaito doesn’t seem to realise this. He finds his story so cool and exciting that he impulsively assumes Shuichi would too and jumps into it without actually confirming whether Shuichi wants to hear it or not. And, honestly, it seems like Shuichi doesn’t, at least not particularly, and is only listening out of politeness and an inability to get a word in edgeways. His less-than-enthusiastic response to Kaito’s story suggests that these FTEs are canonically meant to happen before training begins and Shuichi comes to properly consider Kaito a friend – and therefore that Kaito’s not really doing the best job here of making Shuichi begin to consider him a friend.

Still himself despite it all!

All of these potentially-ADHD-fuelled idiosyncrasies of Kaito’s make it a lot harder for him to make friends in the normal way – and he seems to be somewhat aware of this. Some of the things from the chapter 4 chat hint that he’s slightly insecure and afraid he’s going to put Shuichi and Maki off by being so dorkily himself. There’s also a little more of this in the Salmon Team bonus mode, in which friendship is the entire point, and yet a few lines when he’s inviting Shuichi to hang out hint that Kaito isn’t completely convinced that Shuichi would want to hang out with him as a friend rather than as a sidekick who needs his advice and support. If he was more used to having friends, he probably wouldn’t still be so insecure about this – so this honestly kind of suggests that Shuichi and Maki could be the first real friends Kaito’s ever managed to make.

Because of these kinds of issues in connecting with people, a lot of ADHD kids grow up unconsciously learning to suppress their true selves, hiding their boundless enthusiasm and unusual interests to seem more “normal” so that they can fit in. I know this because I was one such kid, and I’m still struggling to unlearn this as an adult. So I have huge admiration for Kaito having managed to not do this, refusing to let anything stop him from being himself at all times. His convictions about staying true to himself are even more impressive when you realise that he would have felt so pressured to break them and pretend to be someone he’s not in order to more easily make friends.

As strong-willed as Kaito is, I doubt he’d have been able to do this as a kid without help. His parents and grandparents must have been really, really good in validating his passion and energy and never making him feel ashamed for being the way he is, assuring him that if other kids can’t see how great he is then that’s their problem and not because he’s doing anything wrong. He wants to go to space more than anything else in the world? Awesome; he should chase that dream with everything he has and not care how ridiculous and childish and impossible everyone else seems to think it is! Not all parents would do that.

After all, there are a lot of occasions in which Kaito does just brazenly present his larger-than-life self to someone in a clumsily overbearing attempt to make friends, without showing even the subtlest sign of being worried it might put them off. For that matter, Kaito is generally very willing to just throw himself into things he’s unfamiliar with and possibly end up failing spectacularly and making a fool of himself – something that’s likely to be pretty painful for him, given how RSD is. While some of this is probably down to his impulsiveness and not even considering that he might fail, I’m sure sometimes he’s got to be aware of it, and if so, that’s some impressive resilience and determination. People with ADHD can become unconsciously inclined to never try at anything out of a fear of that painful failure, but of course Kaito would refuse to let that happen to him – which is really quite admirable.

Interestingly, all of the times Kaito is subtly insecure about his social skills – the chapter 4 scene, the Salmon Team bits, and maybe that time with the former friend in his FTE if you assume that him wrapping it up in a fiction means he’s still uncomfortable about what happened – involve someone he’s already friends with. After all, it’s probably easier for him to fearlessly dive in with someone new, because it’s less of a blow if he messes up in that context – not everyone’s going to click with him and that’s just how things go. But once Kaito’s already built a strong connection with someone, he becomes more afraid of messing up, because being rejected by someone important to him would be agonising. You might think that he ought to feel more comfortable around people he’s already friends with because he should trust them and know they’re not going anywhere no matter how much of a dork he is – but when RSD is a factor, it makes perfect sense for it to be the opposite.

Sidekicks can be friends, too!

Perhaps part of why Kaito is able to remain so confident in himself most of the time is because he nonetheless hasn’t grown up alone and lacking meaningful connections to other people. Despite his difficulty in making regular friends, he’s compensated for this by having sidekicks, which are a very different matter that his eccentricities conversely make him very good with. Being enthusiastic and energetic and over-the-top like Kaito can never not be is helpful when he’s being an inspiring hero, not weird or off-putting at all!

Still, while Kaito has a far easier time forging that initial connection with someone through the sidekick approach rather than the friend approach, that doesn’t make him worse at actually being someone’s friend (and not just their “hero”) once he’s got his foot in the door. If Kaito had told the story from his FTEs to Shuichi after they’d started training and properly bonded, Shuichi’s reaction would have been completely different: still probably exasperated, but in an affectionate kind of way, because he knows that’s just part of what makes Kaito who he is, and it’s actually pretty fun to be around. He has a lot of this sort of response to Kaito once they’re friends, and it’s adorable. It’s the same in the chapter 4 training chat – neither Maki nor Shuichi are at all put off by Kaito’s awkwardness, partly because they’re not exactly great at social skills themselves, but also because they know how much Kaito cares about them, and no amount of arbitrary social missteps could ever change that.

When someone becomes Kaito’s sidekick, meaning they’ve accepted his support and understand how much he wants to help them, they can see everything else about him that they might have found weird before in a new light. They learn that his eccentric behaviour isn’t him being deliberately rude or self-absorbed at all. It’s just genuinely how he is, and it’s part of how he can support them so well like he does, but that’s not all it’s good for. They come to appreciate Kaito not just for his incredible supportiveness, but for everything else about him, too. He’s not just their hero, but also their friend.

However… Kaito apparently can’t see that. Since he’s never been that good at forming regular friendships with people who don’t explicitly need him, he’s all too liable to assume that the people who do need him are only sticking around because of that, and no other reason. That co-dependency of Kaito’s I mentioned earlier, aka his rather unhealthy need to be needed? While the stressful context of the killing game definitely made it way worse throughout the story, it seems it was already slightly a thing in the first place – and if so, Kaito having ADHD could very well be the root cause.

Kaito is Good

Being realistic about how sadly uncommon well-represented neurodivergency is in fiction (and how misunderstood ADHD tends to be), I don’t know if I should try to assert that Kaito being ADHD was definitely the writers’ intent. However, almost every major facet of his character and personality fits with it so damn well that I want to think it’s at least possible that someone on the writing team could have had it in mind. Especially with the couple of bits I mentioned that seem like they could have been deliberately included by someone who Knows.

Still, even if it wasn’t intended, it’s amazing how good of a fit this is. Maybe it’s just that, in creating a character as intensely passionate as Kaito, the writers naturally wrote into him all the downsides of being that way as well, without even realising they were near-perfectly modelling the highs and lows of ADHD. After all, the human mind’s ability to simulate other human minds even when they’re not real is freaking magical. Kaito is such an incredibly well-written character with so much thought put into him whether or not he was meant to be as extremely ADHD-coded as he is.

I’ve always believed that Kaito is a fantastic example of how the best way to write realistic and interesting flaws into a character is to have them organically draw from traits that, in other situations, can be that character’s greatest strengths. And in my opinion, this is also kind of true about ADHD. When I figured out I had it and what it really meant, it was hugely validating for me, because I learned that almost everything I’d been struggling with was basically just the logically-inevitable downside of some of the things I’d always liked about myself, such as my ability to get so ridiculously analytical about stories I love like this. I wouldn’t trade those parts of myself away for anything – and I can’t imagine Kaito would, either.

I’ve seen a few posts and articles focusing on the bright side of having ADHD by listing some of the positive traits ADHDers often have because of it, and, delightfully, so many of them – fun to be around! compassionate! persistent! to name just a few – are things that Kaito has in spades. So, well, if ADHD can look so much like Kaito… then surely it can’t be all bad.

-----

(P.S.: High-five to anyone who headcanons Kaito as autistic! There’s a lot of overlap between that and ADHD. Many of the symptoms I’ve talked about here can also be symptoms of autism, and even with the non-overlapping bits, a lot of Kaito’s idiosyncrasies that I linked to ADHD could be interpreted slightly differently to link them to autism instead. I believe ADHD fits him somewhat better than autism does, but then I’m more knowledgeable about ADHD so my data is skewed, plus I’m pretty obviously biased since I’m personally invested in the idea of Kaito being like me. Taking a step back from my more specific headcanon here, though, there’s still every reason to assume that Kaito is at least some flavour of neurodivergent, and I think that’s pretty awesome.)

#danganronpa v3 #danganronpa v3 spoilers #kaito momota #character analysis #kaito's hero issues #ramble #adhd #adhd headcanons #creating that tag because i can already tell kaito won't be the only adhd headcanon i make #oh my god this ended up *longer* than the hero ramble how did this happen #and yes i will link to the hero ramble in every single other kaito ramble because it is always important #i also talked about myself in this more than i ever usually do on here so uh #personal?

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undertalethingems · 5 years ago

Text

Bark at the Moon, Chapter 3: Lost Patience

Or read on my Ao3>

Rating, Setting: Gen, Pre-canon

Chapter Warnings: None

Chapter Summary: Reunited, the brothers try to get things back to normal. Sans thinks going back to where it all started holds the answer... but it’s never so simple.

Nearly a month had passed since Sans had retrieved his brother from his self-imposed exile. Despite wracking their brains and recalling trials no creature should have endured, neither had gotten any closer to remembering or rediscovering anything useful, and the stress was taking its toll. Papyrus collapsed from lack of sleep one day, and only reluctantly explained he was avoiding nightmares after Sans uncharacteristically snapped at him. They’d had their disagreements over the years, but this was the worst in a series of fresh spats that had erupted in the brothers' household as frustrations mounted. Sans hated it, maybe even more than Papyrus did.

He was supposed to be the chill guy who stayed calm no matter what... But he'd found himself in increasingly bad moods as time went on. It was getting hard to be as friendly as usual when he went out, and though no one had said anything they were starting to notice. Passers-by would give him a bit more space if they crossed his path, and the other regulars at Grillby's were hesitant to joke with him as much as usual.

And then one night, he was awoken by his brother and found he’d punched a series of holes in the wall with a bone attack in his sleep. So he’d started avoiding sleep too. His mind buzzed with too many thoughts anyway as it tried to find a solution. He didn't care too much what happened to him--not while Papyrus was stuck like this. All that mattered was making sure he could be happy again.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, brother, but you need to rest,” Papyrus begged him one afternoon as he stubbornly read a book on magical theory. “You look terrible, and I think it’d be for the best in this instance.”

“what’d be best is if we could get this figured out. i’m not gonna let you be forced to live as what he wanted you to be,” Sans retorted, eyes fixed on the page in front of him, and Papyrus made a worried hum.

“Well, yes, that would be ideal, but, I think at the moment it’s best you, er, returned to your lazy ways and got a nap.”

Sans stiffened and didn’t answer for a while. “… bro. we escaped that place and got him back for everything he did to us. knowing you’re stuck as something you never wanted to be, something you shouldn’t have to be… i can’t rest until you’re free to be who you want again. y’know?”

“Oh Sans…” Papyrus sighed, “I really appreciate how much effort you’ve put into this. It’s… more than I expected, if I’m honest, and it means a lot to me. But I don’t want you making yourself sick, or, hurting yourself somehow, or—or anything of that nature, so please, go take a nap. The book will still be there when you wake up.”

“yeah, and i’m reading it now. aren't you always saying sleep's a waste of my time?”

“Sans... I, um, think I may have been slightly. Wrong. About that. Because you without sleep is not a very good version of you. I hate to do this, but... please go sleep. If not for yourself, then… for me?” Papyrus pleaded, tilting his head sadly.

“... ok,” Sans finally conceded. He flipped the book shut, slid from the table and trudged up to his room—but not to sleep. That had been a lie. He waited, listened to Papyrus nervously approach and hover around his door for a few minutes before slowly returning downstairs, then took a shortcut into the abandoned, sealed-off section of the labs in Hotland.

He was glad he was a skeleton as he inhaled stale air a monster with real lungs would have suffocated in and stalked through the pitch-dark halls, his way illuminated by his eyes alone. Turning corners and passing ragged, deteriorating equipment, he indulged the flashbacks that followed him through the facility. It was worth pursuing whatever memories surfaced, even when they were painful, on the off chance it'd unlock what he needed. He’d done this before, another time when Papyrus thought he’d been napping, and put together more of what had happened to them here. Days of tests, procedures he'd never understand, harsh words that left him aching even now, years later, after he'd failed to meet some expectation. It all would be worth it if only he could remember the right thing.

He mostly seemed to remember the wrong things. He shut his eyes against the apparatus that had once drilled into his magic and stretched it so thin he thought he’d shatter right then and there; his fingertips itched at the memory of claws and he rubbed them in his palms, grounding himself on his blunt digits. He’d once been so comfortable in that other form, once believed that man and his claims he was no more than an animal, and it had taken so much fighting—mainly on Papyrus’ part—to help him reclaim everything he could be. And after everything that had happened, somehow a dead world and its ghosts were threatening to unravel all they'd done to bury it.

Sans flicked his wrist, and the apparatus shattered under artificial gravity. He wondered why he hadn’t done that before—maybe some lingering fear of retribution. He left the splintered metal and plastic behind, idly considering what else of this hateful place he could smash. Turning the corner, he came to a vaulted room lined with large cisterns that had been the holding tanks for living weapons as they grew. Only two had ever released successful constructs—before that, who knew what had met its end before it lived.

“YOU’LL NOTE THE SUBJECT APPEARS TO BE WELL-BUILT, WITH A STURDY AND ELABORATE BONE STRUCTURE,” the man said, gesturing at him, “BUT UNFORTUNATELY, LOOKS ARE DECEIVING. AS YOU CAN SEE, ALL BASE STATS ARE SEVERELY STUNTED. SPECIAL CARE MUST BE TAKEN IN ALL CASES OF HANDLING AND TESTING TO MITIGATE RISK OF FRACTURE AND METAPHYSICAL FAILURE. RESEARCH WITH THIS SUBJECT WILL BE OVERSEEN BY MYSELF AT ALL TIMES. VIOLATORS... CAN CONSIDER THEIR CAREER TERMINATED. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?”

Sans grimaced at the unbidden memory, the thought of being seen as an object leaving a slimy feeling in its wake. Even when he’d worn that form, he’d been more than that, he’d been a person in his own right. That man had thought because he’d made them it gave him the right to control them, to coax and prod them in equal turns until they became what he wanted them to be. He’d nearly won, but Papyrus—oh Papyrus, the best thing this place had ever produced, undeserving of all it had done to him—had seen through his manipulation and come through. And now he needed someone to come through for him.

Sans left the tank room behind, resisting an urge to tear it all down with blue magic. He needed to poke a little further, push a little deeper. He'd make this place give up its secrets, but he could feel his patience wearing thin. He was running out of ideas, too. Maybe if he shifted, he could work out what to do from there? No, that would be—

“NO. IF YOU WANT TO TEST WITH YOUR… BROTHER TOMORROW, YOU WILL CHANGE BACK THIS INSTANT. SHIFT NOW.”

Something in Sans’ soul wrenched free, and he staggered, doubled over, clutching at face and chest. If he’d been well-rested, if he’d been his usual laid-back self, maybe he could have resisted the way he had a month before. But worked up by both past and present, he was too out of sorts to quell the power tearing through him; he only had the presence of mind to shortcut home as his body warped and became what he’d tried so hard to fight.

It was the buildup to the final romantic scene in Metatons's latest soap opera when Papyrus’ viewing was interrupted by a rounded form appearing in front of the TV and landing on the floor with a thud.

“Sans!” he barked, trying to stay focused on the show, “you’ve got to stop using shortcuts in your sleep! One of these days you’re going to—Sans?”

Papyrus stared at his brother’s prone form. He didn’t like how still he was. And he especially didn’t like how he was no longer round and friendly, but round and spiky.

The romance was forgotten as Papyrus leapt from the couch to shake his brother’s shoulders, words catching in his throat. Not Sans too, not again, surely this was a bad dream only it was Sans who wasn’t waking up. He whimpered, and looped an arm under him to drag him to the couch and curl around him. How often had he done this when they’d shared only a bare cell, how many times had he feared that last round of tests had finally done his brother in? How long would their past hold them captive?

Sans awoke with a start the next day, sometime mid-morning. Papyrus watched him rise blearily and stumble over unfamiliar feet onto the carpet; his eyes came to rest on the hands he’d caught himself with, and he slumped to the floor completely. After a silence that stretched on for minutes, he spoke.

“welp. sorry bro. i messed up. guess that’s the last time i try hard on anything ever...”

“Oh Sans, don’t say that!” Papyrus cried, getting up himself to roll his brother over. “Come on, now it’s even more important we work to solve this most elusive of riddles! As outlandish as it may seem, maybe you’ll have even more success than me! Come on, it's already late in the day--let’s have breakfast and then we’ll get to work.”

Sans only groaned. “i want grillby’s… but i can’t go to grillby’s like this… i’ll never have grillby’s again…”

“Sans! Cease your dramatics!” Papyrus demanded. “We have toast, which is perfectly good breakfast fare and certainly better than some grease-drenched horror! I’ll even make it for you since you probably have to learn how to use deadly claws again.”

Sans moaned from his place on the floor, and Papyrus left him to get started. As he waited for the toaster to warm up, he grabbed his phone and delicately entered Undyne’s number. He was getting much better at using his own deadly claws for fine motor skills again--it was one thing he was proud of in all this mess. After a few rings, Undyne picked up.

“Hey Papyrus! How’s it going?” she asked cheerfully, and he hesitated on what to say.

“Greetings, Undyne! Everything is going well! But I called to let you know that Sans won’t be able to work today. He’s, sick,” he replied, wondering if it was really a lie as his brother continued to rest limply on the floor in the next room.

“I take it you guys still haven’t made any progress, huh?” Undyne asked sadly, and he sighed.

“None. We’ve almost made backwards progress, really.”

“Ah geez, well, I know you won’t but don’t give up! And kick your brother’s butt into gear too, I’ve seen what happens when you let him slack off and it’s not pretty. Hey, I KNOW! I’ll stop by later tonight, how about that?”

Papyrus’ mind raced; it’d be no good if Undyne found out Sans had changed too. “Oh! Well! That would be okay! But my brother will probably be asleep and totally unavailable for interaction.”

“Nope! He’s not getting out of socializing THAT easily!” Undyne quipped brightly. “I’ll see you punks tonight!”

She hung up, and Papyrus was left staring blankly at his phone. Once Undyne had decided on something it was very hard to talk her out of it. He had to think fast or they’d get the chewing out of their lives and more questions than either of them wanted to answer. It was better the world didn’t know about their abilities and the man who thought he’d play god.

The toaster popped, and in an instant it was pierced by a bone. Sparks showered from the ruined appliance, and Papyrus slowly sat, staring at what he'd done. All this tension was getting to him, and he sighed. He stood, shaking his head. He could only feel frustrated with himself as he salvaged what he could of breakfast from the wreckage. He was better than this! He had the best control out of anyone Undyne knew, and he knew she was telling the truth—not a half-truth or white lie some people felt they needed to tell him to soften a world he’d already seen the sharp edges of. Undyne was guilty of that, and even Sans was, but he forgave them. They were trying to keep him safe and happy, and he appreciated that much, but he wasn't a child and it had worn on him for years.

At least Sans was doing it less now, after they'd spent the last month admitting what had happened to them back in the lab. Papyrus was certain, though, there were still things he was hiding from him. The fact he’d either transformed in his sleep, or not been sleeping and doing something he shouldn’t while pretending to sleep was proof enough of that. Huffing another short sigh, Papyrus glanced out to the living room, saw his brother was still on the floor, and put the two ragged slices of toast on a pair of plates and brought them out wearing his best smile.

“Well, we’ll need a new toaster but I’ve managed to prepare a simple one-course meal to tide us over until lunch. Up and at ‘em, brother!”

Another groan, but at least Sans slowly propped himself up. “hey, it’s not burnt. see bro, you’re improving all the time.”

“Indeed! I’ll be renowned cook and Royal Guardsman very soon!”

The rest of their meal was quiet—mostly on account of it being so short—and after brushing crumbs from his mandible Papyrus stretched and stood at his full height. “Alright, brother! We have until evening to finally make a breakthrough and pretend none of this ever happened! So! Get those mental bones shakin’!”

“… just don’t see what we could do differently. we’ve thought of everything,” Sans mumbled, sinking back to the floor. “i oughta just accept my fate.”

“No, I won’t let you,” Papyrus refuted, picking him up by his ragged hoodie with one hand. “You were right, earlier. It’s not fair for us to still be at the mercy of our past in this way. I’m even thinking, that, maybe it was bad we stopped being all of what we are… because we should be proud! No other monster can do what we do, and we are monsters! Not weapons like he wanted us to be—never like he wanted us to be. We should take back this part of us, because it never wasn’t a part of us.

“We’re going to change back, but, maybe it’s not a thing that can be forced. Not anymore. We’ve… accepted there’s a lot we can’t change, haven’t we? So, perhaps, this is. One more thing. We can accept…? We'll keep working! But! Not be so hard on ourselves if we don't get it right away.”

Sans blinked slowly at him. “bro… you’re so cool. if anyone can own this, it’s you. i just… yeah, i like bein’ that other shape, a lot more than i like being this one, but… i dunno. i think deep down i know… this was what i was always supposed to be. so... i'm accepting that.”

Papyrus gave him a very long, sad look. Slowly, he turned, and walked to lay Sans on the couch before joining him, and Sans eyed him warily the whole time. Judging by the look on his face, Sans regretted saying what he had.

“Sans,” Papyrus began, “I know he always wanted you to only be this way, and just be an animal. He never let you change, don’t think I didn’t notice! I think, in your rounder, friendlier form, it reminded him… that you were so weak? And you know how he hated, er, failure… His! His failure. He made us, so anything we’re bad at is his fault! Nyeh!”

Sans huffed a short laugh.

“In any case! You are just as entitled to owning all of who you are as I am! You are just as smart, and kind, and friendly and everything else in this form as you are in the other, even if it is easier to be all of that in the one you're not in now. And no matter what, just know that I love you, and nothing could ever change that!”

“… of course bro. right back at ya.”

But Papyrus could tell Sans didn’t really believe him. Or, it wasn’t that he didn’t believe him—it was more that he didn’t believe in himself, and that had been the hardest thing to work through as they’d put their lives together. Sans had never really done anything wrong, but he’d often done things in ways the man hadn’t liked—they both had, really, but somehow Sans always got the worst of it. He was too clever, too eager to take shortcuts and do things his own way. It wasn’t fair then, and it wasn’t fair now. All the more reason to work extra hard on mastering the quirks of their beastly forms all over again.

"Well, you think about it for a while, and I'll keep trying my way!" Papyrus conceded, leaving his brother to sit in the middle of the living room. They had to keep trying...!

He went through every method he’d thought of again, calling on his reserves of magic, remembering how it felt to walk on two legs and not have claws or a tail, to no avail. He even meditated for a while, and that was hard to do when he always had so much to think about. Sans had fallen asleep on the couch—which wasn’t so surprising as it was annoying. He'd told him to think of a solution--he’d never change back if he just slept all the time! Papyrus shook his head with a huff, and reached out to jostle him awake.

Fangs snapped inches from Papyrus’ forearm, and he leapt back with a yelp. Sans’ eyes focused, and widened as he realized what he’d done. Wordlessly, he began trembling, and buried his face in the couch cushions; Papyrus bounded back to his side and gently patted his shoulder.

“Brother, it’s okay, I startled you. I know you don’t want to hurt me,” he comforted, trying to nuzzle the face still wedged as deeply into the old cushions as it would go.

“i—i thought you were him, i wanted to—i wanted to snap your arm,” Sans admitted in a quiet, panicked rush. “i’m sorry papyrus, i’m sorry. you were right, i shoulda just napped, i shoulda stayed here and just been my lazy old self, instead i’m this and i’ll never not be this again. i just… i’m just gonna give up now, get it over with…”

“No Sans, you can’t! Yes, you should have stayed here, but we’ll get you turned back! We’ll both turn back, and be who we want to be again, just like I told you! I know we can! I believe in us!” Papyrus assured him, trying not to sound desperate. “Truly, it’s okay brother. Come out of there, you’ll never get who knows what out of your sutures.”

But Sans only groaned softly. With a worried huff, Papyrus grasped his brother’s skull and pulled it free. Sans offered no resistance as he was curled up and encircled by a blanket, and then his brother’s bony form; Papyrus knew he should have been continuing his work, but if he was honest he couldn't think about it at all. Sans was too close to letting himself go.

“Alright Sans, we’re going to rest,” he spoke as he folded his forelimbs under his chest. “But it can’t be for long! Undyne’s coming over and we have to be ready.”

There was no reply. Papyrus laid his head down next to his brother’s, tried not to think about how miserable he looked, and found himself drifting off after a while. Maybe some rest really was in order. He curled a bit tighter around his brother, and let his eyes close.

They snapped open when heavy knocking sounded on the door. Oh no.

“Hey Papyrus, open up! It’s hang-out time!” Undyne called, sounding cheerful. Papyrus leapt from the couch, which startled Sans awake. He blinked sleepily, then snapped into alertness when he realized what was going on. And in a blink, he was gone.

Papyrus groaned. He hoped Sans hadn’t gone too far, but at least it solved the problem of Undyne trying to interact with him—for once he was grateful for Sans’ avoidant tendencies. Mustering his usual high spirits, he answered the door.

“Hello Undyne! Welcome to the humble abode of the humbler Papyrus! The greatest skeleton you will ever meet!”

Undyne laughed. “Hey Papyrus, it’s good to see you. Still stuck as a horse lizard thing, I see.”

“Yes,” Papyrus huffed, “the tragedy of our time. I’m close to a breakthrough though, I can feel it!”

“I know you can do it!” the captain beamed with all her fangs. “Where’s Sans? I don’t care if he’s sick, he’s not getting out of at least a little noogie from me! Oh, but I also brought soup, I thought it might help him feel better.”

“How incredibly thoughtful of you!” Papyrus uttered, taking the small container Undyne handed over. “As it happens, he’s just stepped out for some fresh air.”

“You told him I was coming, right?” Undyne said with a frown, and he nodded.

“Of course I did! But you know Sans does as he pleases.”

“Yeah,” Undyne griped. “Well, hopefully he’s back soon. We're gonna have fun, but I wanted talk to both of you for a moment.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I’ve been hearing some things from the other guards. I… guess we could talk about it now, but I don’t want you to worry and it mostly concerns him.”

“Oh no, go on! I worry anyway, it’s no big deal!” Papyrus assured her cheerfully, and she gave a bittersweet smile.

“Okay, okay… Well, I guess Sans has been kinda… irritable, lately. Dogaressa told me the other day. She said he hasn’t been joking around, or going to Grillby’s as much—which, normally I’d say is a good thing, but knowing your brother I know that means something’s up. I guess he snapped at Jerry, which, if it was anyone else it'd be totally understandable, but Sans never snaps at anyone.”

“He’s… stressed,” Papyrus admitted. “He doesn’t like that I’m stuck like this.”

“Hmm... I guess I can see that, but he’s normally so… unflappable,” Undyne said. “If this is just something you can do, why’s he so worked up that you’re stuck? Unless he’s actually an even crappier brother than I thought and thinks he can decide what you should be like.”

“No! It’s nothing like that!” Papyrus refuted, internally horrified at the thought of Sans being so controlling. It’d be too much like him. “He hates that I’m stuck, not that other preposterous thing you said.”

“Psh, okay, I get it,” Undyne laughed. “Still. It’s putting him in a pretty bad mood and it’s got people worried… and maybe it’s why he got sick, y’know? He threw himself out of whack with all this…”

“Yeah, it’s really unhealthy…” Papyrus agreed, looking away. “I’ll talk to him when he gets back. A grumpy Sans is hardly a Sans at all! Now! What did you want to do on our hangout?”

They ended up watching one of Mettaton’s new cooking shows where he competed against and judged himself with various dishes made under both time and ingredient limits. The clips were cut so it really looked like there were three of him in the kitchen at a time, and he played up the tension when he judged himself harshly on a failed dish. Of course, even the failures were absolutely perfect—he just liked the drama of elimination. It was good, bad TV, and for a little while Papyrus could forget his predicament. After a few hours and an attempt at making their own versions of some of the dishes they’d seen, it was time for Undyne to head home, and Papyrus was left with a quiet house once more.

“Alright Sans, it’s safe to come out now!” he called, on the chance Sans had merely taken a shortcut up to his room. There was no reply. Papyrus leapt up the stairs to poke his head into his brother’s room and found nothing out of the ordinary—but it was empty. Sans wasn’t home.

Papyrus returned to the living room and sat on the floor, tail flicking idly as he wondered what to do while he waited. Sans was fine--he’d be back eventually. He wouldn’t leave like he’d so foolishly run away--Sans liked the comforts of home too much. Even if he relapsed and sank into the cloying lull of instinct and everything he’d been trained to be...

He'd still know where home was and couldn't be gone for long.

... Right?

#undertalethingem writes #undertale au #gaster blaster au #bark at the moon fic #it..... continues.......#it's 'sans makes bad decisions' time! our favorite right?#sans (undertale)#papyrus (undertale)#Undyne (undertale)

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seraph-novak · 4 years ago

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Forever, My Love (15x14)

Originally posted on AO3

What if the interdimensional geoscope had given Dean a glimpse of what could be if he weren’t so afraid of his own feelings?

Likes/comments/reblogs are very much appreciated ♥

~~~

Dean had got into the habit of checking the geoscope every day, usually while Sam was out on his morning run, and Mrs. Butters was busy teaching Jack how to bake. He could snatch around twenty minutes of privacy, if he timed it right. It was never enough to satisfy him, but he doubted anything but a lifetime of staring through the magical eyepiece would ever be enough. Sure, it made him feel like a fucking peeping Tom, but there was something so irresistibly addictive about the geoscope; he knew he’d reached a point in his life where there was no turning back, no realistic chance of making any drastic, life-changing decisions that could spin him in a whole new direction, a better direction, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t bask in the accomplishments of his interdimensional counterparts. Even the gut-wrenching crash he almost always experienced after tearing himself away wasn’t enough to discourage him. He needed his daily fix, no matter how crappy and self-pitying it made him feel in the aftermath. He needed to remind himself that somewhere out there, in another lifetime, he’d had the balls to make all the right decisions, that he wasn’t a stinking coward in every dimension.

With that in mind, he quietly slipped through the gap of his bedroom door, scanning the corridors left and right before slinking off towards the library, keeping his footsteps as light and delicate as he could manage. Sam’s door was already open, his bed neatly made and his running shoes nowhere to be seen. If he was sticking to his usual routine, which was normally the case on the days they weren’t hunting, he wouldn’t be back for at least another hour.

As he made his way into the library, he could hear the distant clang of pots and pans being pulled from their various places in the kitchen; he couldn’t smell the rich, buttery aroma of pancakes yet, however, which meant he probably had at least half an hour before Mrs. Butters and Jack whipped up the batter and started making breakfast. He had plenty of time.

With one last glance around the room, Dean pulled up a chair and positioned himself behind the geoscope, shaking out his hands and blinking his eyes to make sure they wouldn’t start stinging straight away. He hated having to pull away from the geoscope before he was ready, the gloomy normalcy of his own reality never failing to dampen the golden rush of warmth and joy that settled inside his chest while immersing himself in other dimensions. By now, he knew which ones to avoid, and which ones hit the right spot; his hands worked on autopilot as he adjusted the various buttons and dials hidden on the lidded panel beneath the eyepiece, the controls that allowed him to focus on specific dimensions. He had his favourites, of course, but he liked to switch things up now and again. Plus, the other dimensions were slowly but surely falling off the radar, no doubt due to Chuck’s celestial tantrum; he was trashing all the toys he no longer played with at an exponential rate, making it increasingly harder for Dean to find any half-decent dimensions that didn’t make him want to fucking bawl his eyes out. Without the option of being picky, he could settle on just about any dimension where the vast majority of his friends and family were still alive (Sammy and Cas were a dealbreaker) and they hadn’t all spiralled into a dark, depressive state of complete and utter hopelessness yet.

But the dimensions that really did it for him, the ones he purposely sought out when he needed a pick-me-up, were the ones where he was actually happy. And not just him, but Sam and Cas and Jack and Eileen and even his mom, in the rare dimensions where she was still alive. He loved spying on these dimensions, not just because they were full of genuine smiles and laughter, but because they always included one thing – one insane, dizzying factor that had almost given him a fucking heart attack the first time he stumbled across it. Even now, after weeks of adjusting to the heart-stuttering notion that multiple versions of himself had managed to take the plunge he’d never even considered taking himself until recently, his breath still caught in back of his throat every time he switched to one of these dimensions, the geoscope automatically directing him to wherever the ‘other Dean’ was hanging around, and found himself in a compromising position with Cas, usually pressed up against a wall somewhere with the angel’s tongue shoved down his throat, or sometimes nestled quietly together in some private corner of the bunker, simply holding each other close. Those were the situations that really got to him, the ones that filled him with an aching sense of longing that left him walking in a trance for hours after abandoning the geoscope. Sam and Jack would bombard him with questions of concern whenever he got into one of those states, and Mrs. Butters would simply fix him with a knowing smile and slide a plate of grilled cheese towards him, a gesture that never failed to lift his spirits.

It was a shock, that’s for sure. He didn’t really know if it even made any sense, if that was something he’d ever have the guts to do, even in a dimension where things usually went according to plan, and the good times generally outweighed the bad. But, even so, he found himself craving those crazy snippets of lust and comfort, imagining his own Cas, the version he’d continuously stomped on and treated like crap for over a decade, holding him with the same level of gentleness and care, gazing down at him with the same adoration in his eyes as he carded those long, nimble fingers through his hair... It was something the real him, the version staring desperately down an interdimensional geoscope like he was a fucking addict seeking his next high, could never possibly deserve.

But that didn’t stop him from wanting it.

He flipped through a few of his regular channels, a lump steadily rising in his throat as he kept coming up with nothing but darkness, the interdimensional version of TV static. There was only one thing all that nothingness could mean, but he tried not to think too hard on it. He couldn’t bear the thought of all those worlds, all those versions of him and Sam and Cas and every other sorry sucker on earth no longer existing. Had they been together when all those dimensions were wiped out? Had all those versions of him and Cas managed to share one final kiss before the end, or did they not even see it coming? Not even get a chance to say goodbye, to tell each other how much they –

“Fuck.”

There was bile stinging the back of his throat, his eyes filling with tears that spilled down his cheeks as he scrubbed a hand over his face, the breath sweeping out of him in one long, deflating shudder. He shoved his chair away from the geoscope and closed his eyes for a moment, the blood rushing loud and hot inside his head. After a while, the familiar smell of pancakes wafted into the room, the triumphant tittering of Mrs. Butters stirring him from his reverie. He swallowed thickly and sat up in his chair. He only had a few more minutes before Jack came galloping into the library to announce breakfast, no doubt grinning from ear to ear like a little kid. This time tomorrow, it wouldn’t surprise him if every single dimension in the geoscope was no longer visible. Shit, it wouldn’t be long before their own dimension was nothing but a forgotten smear of nothingness. This might be his last chance to selfishly indulge himself in all the beautiful what-ifs of the universe, and there was no way in hell he was going to pass that up.

He allowed himself another deep breath, then dragged his chair back towards the geoscope, ignoring the burn of tears as he peered into the eyepiece once more. Fiddling with one of the dials for a few moments managed to transport him to a version of himself sitting down in what appeared to be the bunker’s dungeon, his head hanging in his hands. He was about to switch over, already sensing this wasn’t a happy dimension, when Cas appeared in the frame, slowly approaching Dean like a wounded animal before sitting down beside him, his arm sliding around his shoulders. Almost immediately, Dean barrelled into his chest, his hands clutching at the front of Cas’ shirt. He wasn’t crying, not quite, but his shoulders were shaking with silent, tearless sobs. It was like he had nothing left inside him to cry out.

“It’s over,” he said, his voice hollow. He lifted his head and regarded Cas closely. “How long d’you think we’ve got?”

Cas pressed his lips together, arm tightening around him. “Not long.”

“Days? Hours?”

“I’m thinking minutes, Dean.”

“Fuck.”

“Chuck is done playing his games. He’s won. There’s no reason to drag this out.” He tipped his head back, eyes screwed shut. This version of Cas was apparently more powerful than his; there was a brief flash of white-blue light in his pupils as he opened his eyes again, the lines in his forehead smoothing out as the rush of power ebbed away. “I’m detecting unusual levels of radiation in the atmosphere. I think it will all be over very soon.”

Dean barked a wet laugh and nuzzled his head against Cas’ shoulder. “At least it’ll be quick. Not like it was for Sammy.”

“Dean...”

“It’s not fair, Cas. It wasn’t supposed to end this way, ya know?”

“I know.” Cas rubbed his nose against Dean’s scalp, breathing him in. It was hard to tell from a distance, but it looked like he was kissing his hair. At least this version of them had seemingly managed to get their crap together before the end. “I won’t leave you, my love. I’ll be here.”

Well, that was new.

“Promise?”

“Always,” Cas whispered, dragging his lips softly against Dean’s temple, until their mouths connected in a chaste kiss. Dean’s eyes were still closed when they parted, his hands trembling against Cas’ chest. He looked so fucking small like that, but somehow unafraid. Maybe it was the fact that dying in a blazing fire was a lot less scary than living in a world without his brother, or maybe it was the angel wrapped around him, kissing his cheek and stroking his back. Either way, he looked at peace. Or as peaceful as anyone could hope to be when the world was coming to an end.

“Do you think... heaven’ll still exist?” Dean asked. He seemed hesitant to voice the question, almost bashful, as if he already knew the answer, but was naively hoping for Cas to prove him wrong.

After a beat of telling silence, Cas raised Dean’s chin with the pad of his thumb and gently cupped his cheek. He was wearing a crooked smile, the one that lifted one side of his mouth with a lazy flash of teeth, his eyes lidded softly. Dean had only seen it a couple times before in his own dimension, usually when Cas was depressed or deluded or fucking possessed. It made a nice change to see it directed at him, or a version of him, with nothing but love behind its meaning. What he wouldn’t give to see his own Cas looking at him like that someday.

“Do you remember our wedding?” Cas asked, changing the subject in an endearingly awkward way. It was only then that he noticed the bands on their fingers: Dean’s broad and gold, Cas’ narrow and silver. Some would probably call them mismatched, but they were alike in their simplicity, their understated beauty. They looked perfect next to each other as Cas threaded his fingers through Dean’s and lifted their hands to his lips, kissing the golden ring. “It was quite the occasion.”

“I remember you blowing me at the reception,” Dean replied with a grin, his eyes trained on the rings as they brushed against each other. “Couldn’t get the fucking stain outta your tie. Had to pretend it was cake.”

“No one believed us.”

“Nope.” Dean chuckled under his breath. He was getting sleepy, if the slurring of his voice was anything to go by. The impending heat of destruction was likely pressing around them, making it difficult to breathe. He could feel his own chest staggering in response, as if he was there with them. He knew he shouldn’t be watching, should’ve pulled away as soon as he realised what was going on, but he couldn’t seem to move his hands. His fingers were wrapped around the dial with a vicelike grip, his jaw tightly clenched. He had to see this through, no matter how painful it proved to be.

In the other dimension, Cas’ gaze had turned solemn, his throat squeezing up and down. As an angel, he didn’t need to breathe, but he still appeared to be struggling. Or maybe it was the tears gathering in his eyes, saturating the usual stormy hue to a bright, glittering blue.

“That day, I promised to love and cherish you forever,” he said, the muscles in his face twitching with the effort of keeping the tears at bay. “I promised to protect you, stay by your side no matter what. I intend to keep as many of those promises as possible.” He bowed his head, pressing his forehead against Dean’s. They leaned into each other with an ease that defied every doubt and fear that Dean had ever felt, every whispered voice in the back of his mind telling him he could never have this, every obstacle he’d placed in his own path to prevent himself from taking a step too far and losing himself in a love that would undoubtedly leave his life cold and empty in its absence, when the day it abandoned him inevitably came... The way they fell into other seemed so easy, so natural, and Dean was struggling to remember why he hadn’t been doing this with his own Cas for the past twelve years. How fucking stupid, to let the fears he’d conjured up for himself as some kind of security blanket keep him from having this. How absolutely fucking ridiculous.

“You getting sappy on me, Cas?”

Cas laughed, a tragic sound. “Would you prefer it if I stopped?”

“Nah. Keep going.” Dean buried his face in the crook of Cas’ neck, arms coming up to squeeze his waist, a single tear finally rolling down his cheek. “Tell me you love me.”

It was whispered, fractured with vulnerability, and Cas responded in a similar fashion, his voice a low murmur just for them. “I love you, Dean Winchester. My brave man. My insufferable idiot. My saviour. My best friend.”

Dean was shaking in his arms, his face pressed against his skin. His mouth was moving, either whispering words of his own, or simply kissing his neck, drinking in as much of this moment as possible before it all came crashing down around them. It wouldn’t be long now, seconds at most. Dean could feel fresh tears pooling in his eyes, his stomach rolling with anticipation as he watched the scene helplessly, caught between grief and longing. Would his Cas be there beside him when he met his own demise? Would he hold him in his arms and swear to love and protect him until the very end? No. It didn’t seem likely, not unless Dean gave him permission to do so, let him know that’s what he wanted. And when had he ever given Cas the impression that he wanted him in that way? Never. Because he was a coward. Because he hadn’t, up until this moment, realised how fucking pointless it was to keep holding himself back from something that would make him genuinely happy, if all these other dimensions were anything to go by, when the world was literally falling to its knees.

“I love you,” Dean gasped, kissing Cas on the lips once more as a deafening rumble tore through the bunker, sending up clouds of dust and mortar as the walls of the dungeon began to crumble. “Just hold me. Please, Cas. Don’t leave me alone.”

“I’m here,” Cas said, shushing him softly. “I’m here, my love.”

He stayed like that, kissing his eyes and holding him close, long after Dean could no longer hear or feel him. He stayed by his side until the very end, just as he’d promised, until a silent explosion of white light engulfed the bunker, temporarily blinding Dean until the feed cut out and the geoscope was bathed in darkness, finally releasing him from its hold.

Dean tumbled off his chair with a sob, stumbling backwards down the steps leading to the geoscope and straight into the arms of Cas, his Cas, who was watching him with wide eyes, his hands instinctively flying up to Dean’s arms to steady him. He was saying something, probably asking him what the hell he was freaking out about, but all Dean could hear was white noise. Cas had died. Cas had been swallowed by white fire. Cas was gone. But he was also here, now pressing the back of his hand against Dean’s forehead, checking him for a fever. His Cas was still alive, with his tanned skin and baggy eyes and wrinkled coat and stupid, lovely voice. He looked tired, as per usual, but his concern for Dean was taking centre stage. As per fucking usual. How had it taken him so long to figure this shit out?

“Dean, what –”

“Don’t you go dying on me,” he said, his voice a pitch too high as all the sounds came rushing back. “I ain’t fucking done with you yet. There’s too much I gotta say.”

Cas was shaking his head, completely bemused. “Dean, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve only just arrived. My leads on Amara all dried up.”

“I don’t care about that right now.”

“Dean –”

“Stop saying my name!”

Cas snapped his mouth shut, adorably at odds about what to do without the ability to say his favourite word, the word that only ever sounded perfect on his lips. “I... But...”

“Just look at me.” Dean lifted a shaking hand to the angel’s face, tracing the lines of worry etched into his skin. For a guy who didn’t require sleep, he looked like he was about to keel over from exhaustion. He was a fucking mess, that’s for sure. But Dean liked him. Wanted him. There was no point in denying it anymore. He didn’t want to carry all these repressed emotions to fucking oblivion. He wanted all the mushy promises and clashing wedding rings and dirty memories to laugh about when was old and grey and farting sawdust. He wanted a happy ending, goddamnit.

“Dean,” Cas said, apparently unable to help himself.

Dean smiled, met his eyes. “My love.”

Cas spluttered, his cheeks flushing, and Dean smothered his mouth with a biting grin, his own face flooded with warmth. It was nice to see those words had the same effect on Cas as they did on him. Nice, also, to feel Cas’ lips moving against his own, albeit slowly, as if he was still puzzling through, trying to figure things out. Dean couldn’t blame him for being confused, but he wasn’t in the mood for explaining things just yet. They’d wasted enough time as it was. He didn’t want to get stuck grieving for a version of him and Cas that no longer existed; there was only one Dean and Cas he had any chance of saving, and they were right here, kissing for the first time in a newly-polished bunker with tears sticking their cheeks together and the smell of freshly-cooked pancakes sweetening the air.

When they finally pulled apart, Cas was gawking at him with pinkened cheeks and a bewildered smile. Dean opened his mouth to say something, to at least make a start at explaining things, when Jack suddenly came skidding into the library, his 1000-watt smile turning even brighter when he spotted Cas.

“Cas! You’re back! I’ll tell Mrs. Butters to make some more pancakes.”

He bolted away as quickly as he’d appeared, apparently not noticing Dean and Cas’ close proximity, or otherwise not caring. Dean loved him for that.

“Mrs. Butters...?”

Dean looked back at Cas, his heart clenching when he realised the angel was still clutching at his jacket, lips just a hair’s breadth away from his own. They were even prettier after being kissed. “It’s a long story. How about I tell you over breakfast?”

Cas nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching with one of those precious half-smiles. “I’d like that.”

#destiel #deancas #supernatural #castiel #dean winchester #15x14 #destiel fics #my fics

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sushiandstarlight · 4 years ago

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“Hearth”: NaNoWriMo 30 Days of Prompts

Today’s Prompt

Read this story on AO3

The snow he had been expecting, the screaming wind had been another thing altogether. He had burst in the door of the tiny cottage, hoping no one was home. That didn't mean there wouldn't be, but hope was hope. He wouldn't die in the elements, but even angels could suffer. Perhaps the lord of the manor had allowed them to stay in the main house tonight on account of the storm. Aziraphale would assume that. Just as he would assume that because the lord had not forbid him to take his rest here, that meant that he could. No one needed to know; he could tidy before he left.

He sat down his pack near the only chair in the room and knelt in front of the hearth, working to get a fire going. It would take some time to warm the room, but he could at least get feeling back in his fingers and toes while he waited. Once that was accomplished, he packed the pot next to the fireplace with snow and swung it over the fire. When it came to boil, he poured some in a thick, earthen cup and dropped in tea leaves. Settling back in the chair, he sipped at the tea and sighed, bare toes pointed towards the flames. One day, he knew, humans would invent indoor heating. That was a long way off, though. The fire was nice, in the mean time. It popped and crackled, the light making the whole room dance and twitch. His eyes drooped as he watched it, mind drifting to a state of blank numbness as his body warmed.

A few more moments of warmth and quiet and he might have actually drifted to sleep- perish the thought- and missed the soft thump against the door. Setting down his now- empty cup he walked cautiously towards the door. It could be wild animals. It could be bandits. Any number of things could be on the other side. Still, he had best check to be sure.

The icy wind blasted him in the face when he opened the door, tearing at the warmth he had managed to accumulate. Immediately his teeth were on edge. No one was standing in the doorway. He nearly shut the door again, but happened to glance downward. Someone, bundled in a heavy woolen cloak, was curled up on the stoop. Aziraphale took a moment to look around in the darkness, but there was no one else. Grasping the stranger by the shoulder, he hauled them inside.

There was a soft grunt from inside the fabric as he lowered them to the floor. He reached for the hood and pulled it back. Fiery red curls spilled out, shot through with ice and snow.

“Now how did you find your self way out here, serpent?”

Crowley did not reply, just shivered deeply and tried to curl further into his cloak. The cloak was covered in snow and ice, too, which was rapidly melting now that he was inside. Aziraphale sighed and started to peel the cloak away, batting at Crowley's feeble attempts to pull it closer. It had protected him, somewhat, from the elements until now. But, now it would only impede in the angel's work to warm him up. Crowley's clothes under the cloak were mostly dry, thankfully, and would dry further once he was near the flames.

Bending down and scooping the demon up in his arms was easy now without all the extra fabric: one arm under his knees, the other supporting his shoulders. He carried Crowley over to the hearth and lay him down on the soft, thick fur skin rug as close to the fire as he dared. He should, he knew, stand and go back to the chair for the night. There was no need to stay on the floor with Crowley, no need to be this close.

But another shiver coursed through the demon and he curled in on himself. Reflections of the fire danced over the curls that fell over his face. Aziraphale brushed them back behind his ear- marveling at how soft and silky they really were- to better look at his face. It was pale and drawn, revealing the pain of the chill still inside him. Were he awake, Aziraphale would make him tea. But no amount of coaxing would wake the demon. Aziraphale wondered, distantly, if it was the snake in him, hibernating.

Body heat, he knew, was the best way to warm someone up. He just wasn't sure exactly how Crowley would feel if he woke up entangled with an angel. Least of all, Aziraphale. Well, he supposed of all of them he would mind least in that case. He wouldn't be laying on the floor, though. He tugged the chair closer with a little miracle- surely his brethren wouldn't even notice that one- and sat back against it. He pulled Crowley into the V of his legs and hugged him close to his chest. Crowley shivered and it ran through Aziraphale, too. His body was so very, very cold. Reaching backwards, he grabbed his own cloak and draped it over both of them.

Crowley might not like this when he woke up. But, Crowley would never need to know. Aziraphale would stay awake and keep watch. When he had sufficiently warmed the demon, he would tuck him into the chair. He slipped his arms around Crowley's waist and held him close, resting his chin on his shoulder and watched the flames dance.

There was something stirring in his lap. He was instantly awake and instantly remembered his situation. Holding himself perfectly still, he waited to see what Crowley's reaction would be. But, the demon hadn't woken up, after all. He had turned in his sleep: sideways in Aziraphale's lap. His head was fitted into the bit of space below Aziraphale's chin and his arms were wrapped around the angel's middle.

Three things occurred to Aziraphale in that moment:

1. He had fallen asleep, after all, despite his resolve not to do so. 2. There was no way, now, to disentangle himself from Crowley without waking the demon up. 3. He had absolutely no desire to disentangle himself from Crowley.

It was the third thing that gave him the most pause, although the others would need to be revisited. Because, you see, Aziraphale had never been on the receiving end of a hug let alone a snuggle. Handshakes, sure. Firm grasps of forearms, plenty. Even air kisses on cheeks, a few times. But, this... this was something different. He felt goosebumps break out over his arms and his cheeks flushed.

It was an odd sensation and should not have been comfortable, but he couldn't deny that he didn't want it to stop. His arms had dropped away, either in his sleep or when Crowley stirred. He lifted them now and hugged Crowley back. In return, Crowley nuzzled sleepily into his neck. Now goosebumps shivered down his spine. His chest was warm, not just from where Crowley sprawled over him, but from the inside. It felt good to be this close to someone. Well, someone he trusted. Thinking for a moment, he realized there really wasn't anyone else he would want to touch him like this.

And when Crowley woke up, they would go their separate ways. What were the odds that a situation like this would ever crop up again? He wasn't even sure why the demon was here, now. To be thwarted, he supposed.

Thwarting... it could wait until tomorrow, right? There was no reason to start it right now. He could indulge this new feeling a little. He was warm and safe, Crowley was warm and safe (he didn't dwell too long on why that second part suddenly mattered more than it had before). With the storm, it was unlikely that anyone would disturb them. There were plenty of hours of night left.

That justified he settled back into the chair, hugging Crowley to him again and stroking his back under the cloak. Crowley hummed contentedly and nuzzled him again. This time he was prepared for how that made him feel and he indulged it. He tried to keep himself awake, but the problem was Crowley was such a comforting weight in his arms. The shared warmth tugged at him until he drifted off again.

The last thing Crowley remembered was seeing a blurry light in the distance. He couldn't feel, well, anything. Not his feet or his hands, those were long gone. But his face and his belly had stopped aching a mile ago, the cold that had pained him with each step and breath was gone... But not for a good reason. Each blink of his eyes felt harder, his lids heavier. Increasingly, he was fighting the urge to lay down in the snow. Still he trudged towards the light. It was in a window, he realized as he got closer. Perhaps they would let him in for the night, if he kept his hair over his eyes. He could have a blanket and a warm, dry corner to sleep in. His expectations weren't high or hard to meet at this point. Unfortunately, his world chose that moment to both fade out and swing wildly to the left.

The first thing he noticed when he woke up was that he was warm. Not just a little toasty. This was “I found a nice, dark, flat rock out in the sunshine of the desert” warm. It was absolutely lovely and he never, ever wanted to move. But the rock under him shifted and he clutched at it instinctively. It wasn't a rock at all, but soft. It gave under his arms, his fingers... his face?

He lifted his head and found himself staring directly into stormy blue eyes. A furrow appeared between them as he continued to stare.

“Angel?”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said it with a sigh of relief. The furrow in his brow relaxed, well, some.

“Not that this isn't nice,” Crowley cleared his throat, “but how did I come to be in your lap?”

Aziraphale shifted uncomfortably, turning defensive.

“Body heat.”

“What?”

“Body heat!”

Crowley stared at him like he'd gone mad.

“The quickest way to warm someone up is sharing body heat. That's all this is. You needed some heat and I had some. So. Body heat, that's all.” Aziraphale was staring off to the right now.

“That's all, is it?” Crowley teased, smirking at him. “What else would it be?” Aziraphale took the teasing for what it was: a lifeline, an out. “Y-you foul fiend. Couldn't have you getting discorporated, could I?”

“Yesss, then you would have to sort out a new recruit. Lots of paperwork. Lots of relearning the enemy. They might send up someone more... efficient.”

Aziraphale gasped dramatically.

“Oh, no, we couldn't have that. You and I have our routine. We have the lay of the land, so to speak.”

“No need throwing that away because you don't want a snuggle.”

Aziraphale choked out a “right” in reply and then fell silent. Crowley watched him, thoughtfully.

“But, you know, I'm still a little chilly.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, I think if I moved right now I might slip out of consciousness again.”

“That would be terrible.”

“Well, I don't want to trouble you.”

“Still a couple hours until sunrise, dear boy, maybe you should stay put.”

“So I don't get discorporated.”

“Precicely.”

“Well, alright then, if you insist.” Crowley lay his head back down on Aziraphale's shoulder, though he refrained from nuzzling. He thought he saw a bit of a frown, perhaps disappointment, tug at the angel's lips.

“I'm afraid I must, for my own sake. Can't be sending memos up saying I've been down here all this time and I don't even know my enemy.”

“Sure, sure. We have to keep up your reputation,” Crowley patted the angel's arm and sighed softly, relaxing and willing himself to go back to sleep. If he felt fingers gently stroking the small of his back as he drifted, he didn't mention it.

Previous Prompt Ficlets:

Frosty / Ribbons / Wrapping / Cardinal / Coal / Unwrap / Blustery

#aziraphale x crowley #crowley x arizaphale #good omens #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #star light-reads #30 days of prompts #nanowrimo #nanowrimo 2020 #huddling for warmth #honestly this doesn't even have to be read as romance #and for the record #i was steering this in an angsty direction #but they just wouldn't budge from the cuddle so...

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slightly-nerdy-rambles · 4 years ago

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Robstar Week Day 6: The Start of Forever (Prompt: Wedding Bells)

I love weddings. They’re just these big, happy, fun parties! So for this prompt I ended up going full self-indulgent mess and just sort of jumped in with very little plan... and I think what little plan I had didn’t even make it into the fic, whoops. The end result is less a single cohesive story than it is a series of events meant to evoke a sort of snapshot of these dorks’ wedding, and I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it.

(Note: You’re going to see a certain character here whose presence would make the Royal Family Verse go very differently, as I’ve had pointed out to me. Rest assured that I have not forgotten him in that ‘verse, and simply have different plans for him there than I do here.)

The Start of Forever

Penguin was really not having a good day.

It should have been an easy heist, or at least a relatively low-risk one. The Bat’s brat was getting married halfway across the country, which meant the whole posse was out for a couple days. And, sure, he’d made the mistake of getting cocky while Batman was away before, but this thing was a big deal – something about alien royalty, he hadn’t been keeping track of the specifics – and the way he figured, the only buddies of the big guy who wouldn’t also be there were the small-fry or the newbies of the Justice League. Still formidable to common criminals, of course, but to veterans who’d been dealing with the Bat himself for years? His gang could handle it.

But now here he was, his thugs already captured, his trick umbrella wrecked, and fleeing for what was beginning to feel uncomfortably like his very life. He could hear footsteps behind him, and he knew it was only a matter of time before –

There was the lasso. Before he could even try to dodge it, he was bound up tight and thrown flat on his face.

Penguin glared at his captor as she stepped into view, calmly looping up the other end of the rope bound to him. “Aren’t you supposed to be at a wedding?” he grumbled.

Wonder Woman gave him a flat look. “This was the only way to convince my colleague it was safe to go. I was watching the ceremony live, and I’d like to get back to that, so let’s get this over with.”

With one hand, she pulled him up by the loop of rope around his torso and glared deeply into his eyes. “Where are you hiding the loot?”

********

“Yeah, I really can’t help but feel sorry for anyone who tries to mess with Gotham right now,” Wonder Girl said, pausing to take a drink from her glass. “Di might be tough in the field, but she loves a good wedding. I’m kind of surprised she even volunteered to city-sit.”

Batwoman chuckled and leaned back in her chair. “Part of me kind of hopes a supervillain shows up there, if one hasn’t already. Not only would it make a great story, but it would prove the old man right about not leaving the city vulnerable and Wonder Woman won’t have to be mad at him.”

The two women shared a good laugh at that, before settling in to watch events around them. The wedding was a very… unique affair, which was inevitable when one considered the couple in question. Starfire was still technically Tamaranean royalty, after all; her marriage to a prominent hero (or rather, another prominent hero) meant too much for relations between her home planet and Earth to host it under the privacy of civilian identities.

Not that most of the Titans Network weren’t used to going around in uniform off-duty, but it made things interesting when fancy tuxedos and dresses were paired with the masks. The resulting “badass masquerade” feel of the party was oddly suited to both the many superheroes and the handful of boisterous Tamaranean dignitaries that had managed to attend.

Across one very active dance floor, over at the head table, Beast Boy and Cyborg were starting up a chant. They’d already had all their silverware taken away after one too many rounds of “tapping the glass to make the bride and groom kiss,” but this had only slowed them down for about twenty seconds.

Amidst an increasingly disruptive chorus of “Do it, do it, do it,” Raven leaned over to Starfire’s side. “They’re going to keep doing that until you give in,” she muttered.

Nightwing looked over from her other side and pointed out, “If we do, it’ll only encourage them.”

Raven shrugged. “Your call.”

Starfire just smiled and turned toward her husband. (Her husband! X’hal, that sounded good.) “I believe it all depends on whether we want to,” she declared, right before leaning forward to give him a quick peck on the mouth. His half of the table promptly erupted into cheers.

“Mmm.” Nightwing gave her that goofy little smile that never got old, and then stood up and held out a hand to her.

“Come on, let’s head back to the dance floor before they start up again.” His smile widened as he added, “As much as I enjoy kissing you, I’d rather do it on our own terms.”

Starfire laughed a little as she accepted his offer, and together they made their way into the throng.

As befitting its hosts, the wedding reception was a mixed bag of American and Tamaranean traditions. In a general sense, there was plenty of overlap – good food, energetic music, and a whole lot of dancing. But it was still worth noting when the couple made their way past several tables of casually chatting guests only to come across a traditional Feasting table sprawled over with several Tamaraneans (and one specially-invited reporter who’d wanted to sample the local flavor of the royal half of the wedding).

The free-for-all had died down significantly by now, but one youth had planted himself cross-legged in the middle of the table and was munching happily – and completely in leu of a fork – on a slice of wedding cake. He perked up upon seeing Starfire, and promptly flew over to her.

“Sister!” he chirped, still clutching his cake. “This Earth dessert is very good! Do you think I can bring some back home after this?”

Starfire smiled good-naturedly and shared a knowing look with her husband. “You might have a hard time getting a wedding cake, but a normal one shouldn’t be a problem,” she said. “I can even give you a recipe Cyborg and I came up with that uses Tamaranean ingredients, if you would like.”

“Why don’t you join us when you’re done?” Nighwing offered. “Star says you’re pretty impressive on the dance floor, and I don’t think you two have had much family time yet.”

Wildfire grinned and nodded, but as he returned to the table, Starfire lifted a few inches off the ground and swung around to face Nightwing. That was another Tamaranean tradition – for the happy couple to fully embrace their rapturous joy by spending as much time in the air as possible – and one she was all too happy to indulge. A little impish smile crossed her face as she pulled him out to the center of the reception hall.

Oh, but he did look fetching. They had opted to dress in the wedding wear of each other’s cultures, and as much as she loved her lacy wedding gown, she loved even more how well it paired with the long, loose white sleeves and classic armored accents of his suit. Even his mask had been altered for the occasion – narrower and sleeker than normal, with a dark silver replacing the usual black edges and tiny flared accents at the corners.

“I must admit, I do not at all mind you having to wear such a handsome mask on a day like today,” she thought out loud, pulling close to him as the two began to move in beat with the music. Then, leaning in and speaking in a voice too low for anyone but him to hear, she added, “I wouldn’t mind if you continue to wear it tonight, either.”

Nightwing smirked at that, resting a hand on the back of her neck and pressing his forehead against hers as he twirled her around the dance floor. “Sorry Your Highness, but I fully intend to see you properly for our wedding night.” He considered that train of thought for a moment. “Although we might be able to bring it on the honeymoon.”

Starfire held back a snort of laughter, instead schooling her face into a mock pout. “It is less fun when you refuse to be flustered.”

A little smile crept into the edge of her expression. “And this is a poor time to start calling me ‘Highness.’ You’re technically a prince now.”

Nightwing’s smile broadened. “I still can’t quite get over the thought of that. Please feel free to remind me whenever you like.”

Now Starfire did laugh. Rising a little higher from the floor, she wrapped both arms around his waist and looked to him with a silent question.

Her husband (and thinking that was still absolutely delightful) knew her well – he just smiled again and secured both arms behind her shoulders in answer, allowing her to lift him off the ground with her. Together, they joined the flighted guests that twirled whimsically high above the rest of the party, sharing in the joy of their union for both their worlds to see.

#Teen Titans #Robin #Starfire #robstar #robstarweek #Beast Boy #Raven #Cyborg #Wildfire #I'm not gonna tag everyone with one or two lines we'd be here all day #The intrepid reporter may or may not be one Clark Kent #His coworkers still don't know how he and Lois managed to get an invite #Probably because she's all buddy buddy with Superman #lucky

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siriusmuch · 5 years ago

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Friday I’m In Love | Chapter Six

series masterlist here

word count: 3k!!!

warnings: this chapter could potentially be triggering, it hints towards abuse. there’s nothing described or anything of the sort, but please be safe!

taglist: @interestingthingsthings@siriuslysirius1107@scaredofvscogirls @lizlil @themihala@mainstreambitchlife @phenylethyllamine @jellyfishbeansontoast @accio-rogers @blackpinkdolan @nickangel13 @witchywrter @tomshollandz please message me or send an ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist! if you didn’t receive a notification, it’s because i can’t tag you.

a/n: sorry about being gone for a whole month without posting a new chapter! anyway, you’re in a huge ride in this chapter. hopefully i can get chapters out at least once a week after this! :)

Things changed after the conversation. Slowly, your new normal included hanging out with the Marauders, much to the dislike of most Slytherins in your house. Regulus didn’t comment on it, although you knew he was hurt. After all, he had supported you all along, and you were practically running back to his brother.

You wanted to reassure him that its wasn’t like that, because it really wasn’t. No matter how much you loved Sirius, you were doing your damn best to get over him, and for good this time. You had more friends, and better ones. You spent your meals with Regulus, usually splitting seating in classes between him and Severus. After classes, you did your studying with Remus before hanging out with Regulus or the Marauders.

You had wanted this for so long, and you plunged into it without any self-control.

The rest of November passed quickly, and as December slowly went by, you got increasingly nervous about heading home. Your parents hadn’t sent out any howlers, which you appreciated, but you knew they were watching. And you knew that you’d have hell to face when you got home.

Even with that thought hung above your head, nothing could bring your mood down. For the first time, it felt like you could truly appreciate Hogwarts like every other student.

“Are you guys heading home for Christmas?” You brought up, sitting in the Gryffindor common room. You knew the other Gryffindors were giving you weird looks, but no Gryffindor would mess with you while the Marauders were around.

“I’m heading to James’,” Sirius told you, and you nodded.

“I think my parents want to travel before things get any worse in the wizarding world,” Peter shared, and you smiled.

“I’m heading home, but I’ll probably be around James’ a bunch. What are you planning to do?” Remus asked. You shrugged, feeling the sinking feeling that you felt whenever your mind drifted to your family. You wished you had an escape, but you didn’t. Not like Sirius did, at least. It was going to be your first ever Christmas without your sister, and the thought of that was something you hadn’t truly processed yet.

“I’ll probably see Regulus a lot. My parents told me they’re hosting another party, so I might end up seeing Mulciber, maybe Severus and Malfoy too. A lot of the Black family, really. My parents adore them,” you sighed, “but I’ll have Regulus around, so it won’t be terrible. Merlin knows he’s the only Black I tolerate,” you joked.

“Very funny, (Y/L/N),” Sirius deadpanned.

“You’re going to be alright though, yeah?” Peter asked, and you shrugged.

“I hope so…” you trailed off, not wanting to share just how bad your family was. You were strong, and you could handle another Christmas with them. And then it’ll be back to Hogwarts, where you’d be safe.

You arrived at King’s Cross quicker than you would’ve liked, but a train ride spent with Regulus was a time well spent. You could practically feel his mood shifting as he prepared himself to see his family. Both of you started slipping into your personas of being the perfect child, and before you got off the train, you gave him a tight hug.

“I’ll see you soon, I hope. Write to me often, Reg, you know your letters get me through this.” He smiled at you one final time, and you kissed him on the cheek before getting off the train to face your parents. They had written you to tell you that they’d meet you at the station, and you were hoping they wouldn’t. Any moment spent away from them was a blessing.

Once you exited the train, it was easy to find your parents. They were talking with the Blacks, and you could see the Marauders from a distance away. You were able to meet eyes with Sirius, and you gave him the tiniest of waves before turning to face your parents.

“Mother, father,” you greeted simply. They turned to meet your eyes, and your mother opened her arms for a hug. You didn’t have any choice but to pretend — that was all this was. A game of pretend, a game of dolls, a game of house and the perfect pureblooded family.

“It’s good to see you again, my sweet,” your mother said, but you could hear the coldness of her voice. Walburga and Orion looked at you with fake pitiful smiles, and you knew. You knew that whatever you’d face with this break would be terrible.

Letting you go, you took a few steps back before turning to the Blacks. “Hello.” Out of the corner of your eye, you could spot the Marauders looking over at you, and a lurch in your chest told you that you’d rather be with them. From behind you, Regulus finally joined you — you wondered where he went, although you wouldn’t ask till later.

“Hello, Miss (Y/L/N) and Mister (Y/L/N), and hi, (Y/N).” You smiled at him, relieved to be around someone you could tolerate, but also worried. Although your parents had a strong friendship with the Blacks, you wondered what would be so important that they’d be waiting for the both of you together.

“(Y/N), Walburga, Orion, and Regulus are going to be staying with us. We’ll be hosting the party the day after tomorrow, and there will be important news announced. You are to be on your best behavior, understand?” You nodded. “Good,” your mother brushed her thumb against your cheek, and you willed yourself not to flinch. Taking a look at Regulus, he shrugged, and you inwardly sighed. Whatever your parents had prepared, it wouldn’t be good.

“What do you think they’re planning?” You wondered, laying in Regulus’ lap. It was the day of the party, and the house had been chaotic for the past few days, everyone frantic to throw the perfect party to welcome the beloved heirs home. On the bright side, with the Black family here, your parents hadn’t tried talking to you about how you were acting up in school.

“No clue, but I think it involved both of us. Why else would we be staying?” You looked up at him, his eyes peering down at you. “And as comfortable as we both are, we need to get ready soon.”

“Right he is!” Your mother chimed as she opened the door. She looked pleased as she took in the position that you and Regulus were in, but turned to face Regulus. “You should get going, sweetheart, your mother is waiting for you in your room.”

You wished Regulus didn’t have to leave so that you didn’t have to be with your mother alone, but you didn’t protest. Watching as he left the room and closed the door, you turned to face your mother, who was rummaging through your (rather big) closet. “As you know, I’ve been preparing for this party for a while, and we’re so very lucky to have the Blacks on board. I thought things would’ve been complicated after Sirius turned out the way he did…” Your mother pulled out a dress before making a look of disgust, continuing to flick through the clothes.

“But we’re happy that things have worked out. You get along well with Regulus, right?” You nodded, brushing through your hair. Your mother felt the littlest bit motherly, and you indulged yourself in it, at least until it would get worse. “Good, good. I was worried that things wouldn’t work out after your little act at school, even though I know you’re still hanging around Gryffindors. At least two of them are pureblooded, even if they’re blood traitors.” You rolled your eyes. So much for that.

“Besides the point. We’re expecting a lot of you when you return to school. I know what we did over the summer had scared you, but it’s showing you reality. You’re one of us, now, my sweet. Anything you do now reflects on that, and I just don’t want you to get into trouble. Your father wishes the same, even if he never shares that.” Finally, your mother pulled out a green ballgown, one that was strapless and had a slit to show off your leg. There weren’t any sleeves, and you knew you couldn’t get away with wearing something over your arm either.

The Dark Mark sits on your arm, a painful reminder of just how deep you succumbed.

“I know it was early for you to get the mark, but we had to prove your worth. You’re already part of the sacred twenty-nine, and with Sirius turning out to be the way he is, we had to do something. There’s no doubt that Regulus will have to too.” Once you got changed, your mother pulled you to your vanity so she could do your hair. “I would’ve preferred you get the Dark Mark in your last year. But what’s done is done, and we can’t dwell on that.”

Every minute you spent with your mother felt like it’d never end, but by the end of her dolling you up, you looked like how you did for every other party. Except this time, your mother pulled out a thin long box, and you raised your eyebrows.

“This is my necklace. It’s been passed down for generations, but you’re growing up now. I want you to have it. It’ll show that you’re truly a (Y/L/N) now.” You nodded, and your mother clipped it on, making sure to not get your hair in the way. “I love you, my sweet. You’ve never looked as beautiful and mature as you do now.” Your heart clenched a tiny bit, and you willed yourself not to cry. There was something about this moment that felt different than the other ones you shared with your parents, and no matter how much you hated them for what they’d put you through, you felt as if they loved you.

“Thank you,” you said, “The party is starting soon, right? You should head downstairs, I’ll be down in a bit.”

Your mother gave you a kiss on your forehead, and you watched as she left. She felt so much like a mother, and you wished it was like this all the time. Even if she got on your nerves by sprouting some stuff about the Gryffindors, you knew that you’d pick this over the regular relationship you had with your parents any day. You wished your sister was here to see you now.

The mark on your arm throbbed again, and you sighed. It was time to go to the party.

The ballroom was filled with people, most of which you recognized were avid Voldemort supporters or pureblooded. Looking around for Regulus, you noted that you could see Mulciber chatting someone up. Someone was playing piano, and all the tables were filled with food. This had to be the grandest party yet.

Finally spotting Regulus, you hurried over to him. “Reg! You look good,” you smiled. It was true; he looked more dressed up than he normally would be. You noted that his bowtie was the same shade of green you were wearing. Seeing a small blush on his face, you chuckled.

“You look nice, too. Green’s a pretty color on you, but I’m sure you already know that.” You laughed, opening your mouth to speak before effectively getting cut off by your father’s booming voice.

“Thank you all for joining today, as we have very pleasing news. About a decade ago, the Blacks and us had made an arrangement to marry off our first borns.” You turned to face Regulus in shock only to note that his face was the same. “Unfortunately, the Blacks’ first born turned out to be a blood traitor and as you know, this summer, my firstborn had passed away. Therefore, the Blacks and I have been talking, and we had agreed that Regulus and (Y/N) would be a far better match. Their chemistry is undeniable, and their wedding is going to happen as soon as they turn of age. This is our formal invite to everyone in this room. Congratulations, Regulus, (Y/N).” Your father stopped speaking, but at this point, you didn’t know what to say.

An arranged marriage? With Regulus?

It’s true that you and Regulus were close friends, hell, he was probably your closest friend, but you never considered him romantically. But you’d never considered anyone other than Sirius romantically. You didn’t know if you could even indulge in this; sure, Regulus was nice, but he was almost like your little brother. You weakly smiled at all the stares in the room, but didn’t voice any of the thoughts you shared out loud. Instead, you whispered to him, “I’m happy it’s with you out of anyone it could’ve been with. Meet me at my room after the party?”

Regulus agreed, and your only question was how you could possibly deal with this after the party. Would you have to wear engagement rings? There’s no doubt that you couldn’t date anyone anymore, not in public anyway. It’d get back to your parents, and you couldn’t risk that.

And for the first time since meeting the Marauders, you truly realized that you were stuck with nowhere to go.

“I’m sorry this ended up happening,” Regulus whispered. The two of you were sitting in your bedroom, still wearing your party outfits, and you were still reeling from the revelation.

“A decade, Reg. And I bet even if things had worked out differently, we would’ve ended up married anyway. Sirius and my sister, and then you and I. Talk about a union,” you scoffed, leaning into your bed. “What are we going to do at school? Are we going to be… a couple? Actually date?”

“I don’t think we really have a choice other than do that, do we?”

“Ugh…” You stuffed your face into a pillow for a good minute before peeking your head out at Regulus, “This would be so much easier if I was bloody in love with you,” you sighed.

“We could. Actually d-date, I mean. It’d probably be more enjoyable for the both of us than to just pretend.” Regulus nervously spluttered out. You stared at him, thoughts rapidly shifting from one to the next. Could Regulus actually have feelings for you? Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to comprehend this thought. You never considered the possibility that Regulus might have a crush on you, but you never considered a possibility of dating anyone other than Sirius either. And now that Sirius had made it clear he wanted to be friends and nothing more…

Could you imagine spending the rest of your life with Regulus? Waking up to his face, kissing him good morning, joking about his terrible morning breath before he has to leave? Could you imagine pretending that a war wasn’t going on out there, surrounding you, and having your newfound friends fighting for your life? Could you imagine being married to Regulus?

But what you actually said was, “You… have a crush on me, right? I never suspected anything until, well, now. But you know I’m still trying to get over Sirius, and if we did date, I do wish that it would’ve happened naturally instead of like. This.” You gestured with your arms, trying to read what he was feeling. He’d always been hard to read, especially when he grew up in a family just like yours, but he was much easier to read than Sirius.

“I am. I never told you because there wouldn’t have been a chance that you’d like me back, but you’re trying to get over Sirius and even though I’m unhappy that my parents planned this out for us, I’d be a fool to put my all into this relationship without making it clear how I felt. We’re in the same boat, and it’s better now than never.”

“Quite Gryffindor of you to say that,” you joked with a wry smile. “I… can’t say I like you back. If I were to be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever considered you to be more than my brother, and I can’t promise you anything else. But we can try and date, and even if it doesn’t work out, we’re still going to be stuck with each other no matter what. There’s nothing stopping that. I can try learn to love you as more, but I can’t promise anything.”

“I know,” Regulus whispered, and he took hold of your hand. “And I’m willing to enter this relationship with just that.”

You smiled warily, but squeezed his hand. You were afraid to hurt him beyond repair. When Sirius had been sorted into Gryffindor, their relationship had become strained and you were the only person he held close, other than Kreacher. You found their relationship amusing, but never commented upon it.

Maybe you couldn’t have Sirius, and maybe you were stuck in a marriage you didn’t want with in-laws you despised and you lived under the roof with people you frankly wished you didn’t care about, but at least you could try and make your life as good as it could be.

Soon, you’d be back to school. Soon, you’d have to face Sirius and Remus and tell them of your new marriage. Soon, people will know you as Regulus Black’s soon-to-be wife, and soon, you’d end up in a similar position as your sister. Not that you knew that part, though.

#friday i'm in love #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #peter pettigrew #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader x remus lupin #regulus black #regulus black x reader #severus snape #journal of joyivos #marauders #marauders x reader #marauders era x reader #marauders era #harry potter #harry potter x reader

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skeeloo · 4 years ago

Text

At Least Stay

Kinda sounds like a angsty title but I can assure you it’s not lmao

Pairing: Yushi, aka Shiori (my oc) x Yuno

Rating: PG ofc! Just some self indulgent oc x cc fluff to get back into the swing of writing cause I love these two

Notes: This is longer than I intended for it to be, but nonetheless we are finished

Word count: 2.6k

Night had acended upon the clover kingdom putting an end to the day and welcoming a cool, crisp night, the hours only continuing to tick by as Yuno and his partner occupied themselves in the Golden Dawn’s library with assorted interesting books. Getting so into the stories about the history of things and books about certian magics and such that it seemed as though the two had lost their sense of time, which they did.

Shiori managed to put her book down for the first time in a good few minutes , her eyes averting from the pages to a clock on the wall ticking as each second went by. She blew it off before doing a double take and checking the clock again, this time reading the time displayed, having the nerve to act shocked as she got up to put the book back on the shelf it was on before she had borrowed it to read, uttering “shit” under her breath, Catching the attention of the boy with her as Yuno took his eyes from his book to look at her, slightly raising a brow.

“What’s up with you.. are you ok?”

Shiori nodded before turning back around from the book shelf to look at him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just didn’t realize how late it got.” She began walking back to the library table they had been sitting at. “I have to go.” She went to reach for another book that was sitting on the table to put away, Yuno gently grabbing her wrist as those words made him react.

“Go? Why?” His expression shifted ever so slightly from stoic to a little concerned as he didn’t want her to go, at least not yet.

“Cause I have to go home, Yu. I don’t wanna worry my mom, let alone my father-“ Shiori looked a little filled with worry as the last thing she wanted to do was worry them.

Yuno let go of her wrist. He silenced himself looking for words and excuses to get Shiori to stay a little longer, staying the night would be a small stretch but if he could somehow convince her to stay for at least a hour longer he’d be happy.

“You’d be crazy if you think I would let you go out at this hour.”

“Crazy?” Shiori chuckled. “Don’t be ridiculous, It’s only night time-nothing different from if I went home in the daytime.”

“It’s dangerous.” Yuno stated blankly

“Dangerous?” Shiori couldn’t help but hold in a laugh. “That’s the last thing I could hear from the likes of you. Don’t you like to jump into danger yourself?”

Yuno scoffed. “I’m not Asta.” He stated, throwing some light shade to his rival.

Shiori looked at him all skeptical at that moment. “Riiight-“

Yuno only rolled his eyes. “Creeps and creatures can be lurking in the dark and you wouldn’t know. I can’t and won’t risk you getting attacked and hurt.”

Shiori gave him a ‘are you serious’ look. “You know your sounding kinda like Klaus right now” She pouted as she leaned her upper body on the table.

The comment took Yuno slightly aback and made him cringe, his reaction making the girl laugh as gave his own rendition of a ‘are you serious’ look, mixed with a little shock.

‘Klaus? You’ve got to be kidding...’ he thought to himself as he let out a audible sigh.

“My point still stands. It’s better if you stay here.”

Shiori raised a brow. “Like spend the night? Yu, you know my parents wouldn’t appreciate me saying nothing before jumping into sudden plans-“

“I’ll take the blame.”

“Well you had a quick answer for that.” Shiori thought about a few more issues and concerns that came to mind. “What about captain Vangeance, your squad mates?”

“I’ve brought you here more than once havent I? It’s not like they don’t know who you are”

“And what about Bell? that sassy wind spirit of yours doesn’t seem to like me all too much. She’d complain her little head off all night.”

“I was able to pry her off of me for the day, don’t worry about her.”

Shiori thought for another moment. “I don’t have any pajamas either way.”

“You can wear one of my uniform shirts to bed.”

For every concern, the boy had a answer. Shiori had to admit she was impressed, yet unaware of the true intention on why he wanted her to stay so badly but with the way he had been talking and giving quick answers, it became increasingly obvious. “Do you really not want me to go cause it’s as you put it ‘dangerous’ or is it that you just don’t want me to leave. Stay with you for a bit longer? Give you affection?”she made the quotation mark finger movements with her hands when she spoke, giving him a smile that seemed to be a light smirk.

Yuno once again was taken aback, she was directly on the target with her assumption, yet he being the stoic boy who found it difficult to express his emotions properly he was, denied it.

“No, that’s not...” he looked away from her. “It’s more the first..” Safe to say he did a bad job of hiding the fact that he just wanted her company for longer and didn’t want her to go so soon. He remained silent for a moment before speaking up again.

“I just want you to stay with me for a while longer... I have squad duties in the morning and I want to spend the rest of what we have of today with you.” Yuno did his best to find proper words to express himself. It was already difficult in itself but even more so in a new relationship where everything is just so foreign to him. “Also it is dangerous out but.. at least stay?”

Shiori gave him a soft smile, sighing softly while maintaining it. “Well, the chance of getting scolded isn’t as important to me as precious time with my Yu-Yu is. So I’ll stay.” Shiori suddenly burst into a little flutter of panic. “You don’t mind if I call you that right?” She chuckled. “It suddenly came out..”

Yuno almost let out a chuckle at her sudden franticness. He wasn’t quite accustomed to the nickname as “Yu” sufficed her just enough but hearing it repeated twice over was quite cute of her he had to admit.

“You worry your head off so much about the little things-“he spoke nonchalantly meanwhile deep down hearing that she would stay with him made him quite giddy although it wasn’t displayed as most emotions of his werent.

Shiori chuckled. “I know, I know- it’s dumb but I guess even now I’m still a anxious mess around you when it comes to some things... I need to work on that.” She looked as she was pondering for a moment before she felt a slight gust of wind. Seeing as Yuno used his magic to put the books they had taken to read back onto their spaces on the shelves. He then promptly got up from where he was seated.

Shiori would never not be marveled in how much control he had in his magic, looking at Yuno after the books retuned to their proper shelves.

“I would like to think we’re done here. Maybe we could..make the rest of the time tonight worthwhile.” He attempted to grab her hand but hesitated and opted out last second in his decision. Meanwhile Shiori had a grin on her face.

“That sounds just great. What did you have in mi-“

Once again Yuno attempted to reach for her hand, Shiori took a pause in her words as she felt his pinky slightly brush against her hand. Looking down at their hands she went ahead and gently grabbed his, the two standing still and becoming slight messes over a simple gesture of affection.

Shiori broke the awkawardness, bringing his hand up to her face and snuggling her cheek into it, smiling as she did so, Yuno could have swore his heart skipped a few beats. It was crazy how some simple actions could almost make him feel so strongly and such a way. It seemed to be something only she could do to him, show all sorts of affection and share loving words that can make such a stoic boy absolutely melt in her hands. And with Shiori, the same could be said on her end.

It was quite crazy. A stoic and seemingly cold boy ending up with a slightly shy and kind girl. Their personalities being polar opposites, yet here they were now.

“Your hands are nice and warm-“ She chuckled, bringing his hand back down from her face to hold it. Meanwhile Yuno looked at her completely fascinated and enamored. He was able to crack a small smile. He didn’t speak but the expression he held spoke enough words.

“You alright Yu?” Shiori tilted her head a little as she asked the question.

“Peachy.” He looked down to the floor to avoid Shiori from pointing out the small tinge of rose forming on his cheeks, covering his face with his other, free hand while he was at it. “Let’s just go-“ he uttered, walking along with Shiori who couldnt help but be confused with his behavior.

“Are you flustered?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? You seem it.”

“Nuh-Uh”

“I think you are-“

“Nope.”

“You can admit it. It’s ok, Yu.”

“Not a chance.”

There went his famous catchphrase. Shiori couldn’t help but let out a small laugh and a sarcastic eye roll with Yuno denying the matter as they walked.

The two innocently went back and forth, Shiori continuing to pester the boy about being a little flustered to where Yuno would only continue to deny the obvious.

At least until they reached his room.

The two settled a little bit, Yuno pulling out one of his uniform shirts. Feeling a little mischievous he used his magic to launch it at a unsuspecting Shiori. He intended for it to hit her chest to be playful but it ended up hitting her face.

“Ack!”

Yuno had to catch his own laugh while Shiori took the shirt into her hands, glaring at him.

“Sorry-“ he quickly spoke up.

Shiori let out a chuckle accompanied with a sigh. “Using your wind magic for mischief I see.”

“It’s just tempting. I like messing around with you.” Yuno turned around so she could change into the shirt he had given her, hearing rustling of some clothing.

“This is way bigger than I thought it would be-“ Shiori spoke, giggling as since the sleeves were just a little long for her arms she flapped them

“Are you done?” Yuno asked casually, not wanting to turn too suddenly when she wasn’t ready for him to do so.

“Yeah” Shiori smiled as Yuno turned around, adjusting the sleeves with pulling them back so her hands saw the light of day from inside the fabric.

Of course the shirt was bound to be big on her short frame but with how small she was and the way she was smiling while enjoying wearing it, it was adorable. Yuno couldn’t help but let a soft smile make way into his face, looking at her all enamored. The sight just tugged at his heartstrings, all the right ones.

“I... wow..” He commented, not knowing what to say. walking forward he placed his head on her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her, Shiori standing there for a second before wrapping her arms around him as well, one of her hands snaking to the back of his head and running her fingers through his hair, the action making the boy absolutely melt in her arms. It was soothing and comforting for him.

Shiori felt him shift his weight more, it seems as though he was so calm he just gave up with holding his own weight and leaned on her completely, her struggling slightly.

“Yu-Yu, your getting heavy-“

“But I’m so comfy...” he nuzzled himself further into her shoulder and held her tighter, acting more clingy and affectionate in the moment as her hugs cuddles were something he especially loved since he could hold her close.

“Your all on me.. not that it’s a bad thing but I’m not trying to fall and bust not just mine but both of our asses.”

Yuno let out a groan, pouting slightly as he had to let go of her. It was like getting comfortable in bed but realizing you need to get up to get something or turn the light off, granted it was minor as he would snuggle back up with her after they moved to the bed but still, when it came to cuddles, he dreaded waiting.

However Shiori wasnt long in laying down on the bed and opening her arms for him, Yuno wasting no time in getting in with her and holding her close to him, resting his head and nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck. Shiori beginning to play with his hair once again as he wrapped his arms around her, not intending on letting go anytime soon.

“Be aware your not getting away from me.”

Shiori chuckled at his remark. “Your such a baby for cuddles..” she spoke softly as her fingers ran through his soft hair, easing the boy of any stress he may have carried at the moment. She then felt a gentle kiss on her neck, looking down at Yuno who was looking up at her

“Baby? You can’t be serious.”

Shiori smiled at him, gently grabbing his face. “Yeah, but your my baby. Makes a difference.” Shiori caressed his face with her fingers, Yuno getting a little blushy and hiding his face in her neck again.

“S-stop..” He softly contested his treatment.

“Stop what?” Shiori grinned.

“Stop.. whatever sourcery this is...”

Shiori let out a chuckle, gently grabbing his face once again and making him look at her

“Well it’s not sourcery, nor magic.” She closed the distance and left a soft peck on his lips. “Just love.” She giggled, Yuno bringing her closer to him and laying her head on his chest. She heard his heart beat, it was a little rapid from the action she had just laid upon him, but nonetheless still nice to listen to.

Shiori wrapped her arms around him, making herself more comfortable and snuggling into him, Yuno holding her a little tighter.

“You keep tightening your grip on me... Yu-Yu, I’m right here. Not going nowhere.”

“Stil.. I want to keep you close.” He took a pause. “Your warm and I like feeling you next to me.” One of his hands wandered into her hair, gently twirling some of her curls, placing gentle kisses on the top of her head. He loved these moments. The moments where he could hold her close to him and let his feelings for her out without too much thought or worry, both in a soft daze with light touches and lots of verbal and physical affection, enjoying eachothers company and warmth. A perfect way to end the day.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else at this very moment either.” She smiled, feeling his hand gently grab her face, raising her chin up to him slightly, softly smiling before planting a kiss on her lips, lingering for definitely a while longer than just a quick peck before pulling back, Shiori laying there in a small daze, Yuno letting out a small, quiet chuckle.

“Look, you didn’t push me away that time.”

“Hush, you just didn’t catch me off guard like you usually do.” Shiori snuggled herself in his chest, clinging onto him. She wouldn’t be so needy for being held close, however in his arms she felt safe and loved, something she adored to feel.

The two remained quiet for a while, enjoying eachother before Yuno suddenly spoke up.

“Shiori?”

“Hm?” She perked up, her closed eyes fluttering open.

“ I love you.”

Shiori smiled, snuggling herself in further. “I love you too, Yuno.”

Once again a small period of silence arose, Shiori almost knocking right out with her hair being played with.

“Didn’t you say you have squad duties in the morning? Shouldn’t you be properly getting ready to sleep instead of falling asleep like this?

“That’s tomorrow’s problem.” He stated, closing his eyes. “If we fall asleep now it won’t matter any.”

“I hope your sure about that”

#black clover #self indulgent writings #black clover oc #bc oc #oc: shiori #I’m not sure how to properly tag this lmao #yuno #bc #oc x cc #oc x cannon #ship #if there’s any major mistakes I’m gonna commit arson #yushi #Shiori x Yuno #this is very self indulgent lmao

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