#multi-chapter work

[sylviesoothsayer22]

Well Matched - Chapter 1

Lycoris radiata

When the Yiling Laozu’s spirit emerged from the Burial Mounds as a newborn Calamity, the entire cultivation world trembled in fear.

Wei Ying just wanted to find a quiet place to rest. He had no plan, so he naturally followed the strange butterfly that seemed to beckon him somewhere. What’s the worst that could happen?

“You’re adorable.”

“I thought I was charming.”

“Charming and adorable. I’m tempted to keep you.”

“….sweet-talker.”

“Rejoice, Wei Wuxian is dead!”

“Fantastic, fantastic indeed! Remind me again, who was the hero who killed the Yiling Laozu?”

“His shidi! The little sect leader Jiang Cheng!”

Everyone in the tavern laughed and declared those who have led the Siege of the Burial Mounds heroes. They all toasted to the Patriarch’s demise.

It had been several months since the news first broke out and many have not yet ceased celebrating.

A condescending snort cut through their revelry. All eyes were drawn to the rogue cultivator lounging in his seat. One youth lazily twisted his head to the man’s direction and cast his left eye on the speaker.

“Too early for that.” He rumbled. “The days of the Yiling Laozu are far from over.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let me ask you all a question.” The speaker said. Clearly pleased to have everyone’s attention. “Since Wei Wuxian wasn’t born into the Jiang sect, how many Soul-Tranquilization Rites has he undergone before his violent death?”

Almost every member in the tavern paled in realization.

“You can’t mean that he’ll come back as a ghost!”

“Even if he did, every soul within the Burial Mounds are trapped there. The amount of resentful energy alone makes it impossible for the dead to break free!”

“The Burial Mounds no longer hold as much resentful energy as they used to.” The cultivator informed them gravely.

“What do you mean?!”

“Speak plainly!”

“Don’t go around spreading false rumours for attention, you old fart!”

The only person who didn’t put up a fuss was the youth who was watching the pandemonium with a bored expression. The cultivator gazed at the anxious crowd in silence before loudly slamming his jug on the table.

“Silence! Do you wish to hear what happened after the Siege or not?!”

Everyone quieted and listened to the cultivator with wrapped attention as he began his tale:

“After the Patriarch’s demise, all was quiet for a while and the Great Sects believed it would be the end of it. Yet, some wandering cultivators detected strange disturbances within the Mounds. The resentful energy appeared to be constantly fluctuating. Through their observations, they saw a thick red fog emerge and cover the mountains. The wanderers notified the sects who sent out members of high rank. Those same men would come back and swear blind that they saw the Patriarch lurking around.”

“How is it that no one has heard of this until now?”

“The sects silenced as many gossipers as they could find. They did not wish to spread panic or give the demonic worshippers hope.” The cultivator cast the interrupter a slight glare. “May I continue now?” He asked dryly.

“At that point, all of the sects believed that Wei Wuxian did not pass on. Many high-ranking cultivators, sect leaders and head disciples converged on the spot where they sensed the yin energy was at its highest, believing that the Patriarch’s spirit was still recuperating. Wanting to put an end to this drawn-out battle, they rushed at the swirling mass only to stop in their tracks!”

“Thorny black vines shot through the rocky ground and held them all in a vice-like grip. They tried to hack them off with their swords, but new vines would grow in their place. The bound cultivators felt themselves growing weak. Somehow, Wei Wuxian drained them of their spiritual energy. What’s worse, the red fog surrounding the mountain hardened and formed into a barrier. By the time the cultivators realized that they had walked into a trap, there was a familiar sound of a dizi playing.”

The crowd’s eyes were as wide as saucers. The youth’s eyes were narrowed in deep thought. Many leaned forward as the cultivator continued with his story:

“A figure emerged through the fog. None other than the Yiling Laozu himself! Different, but still recognizable. When he was last seen, he was gaunt, injured and looked ready to collapse at any moment. Back then, he looked fragile but unmistakably human. Now, not anymore. His skin was as white as pale snow. The grey of his robes swirled unnaturally against the breeze like ash. The black of his clothes were so dark, they appeared to be devouring any form of light. It almost looked as if it were made of shadows. His eyes let out an eerie blood red glow. There was a vial full of -what appeared to be- ashes suspended around his neck by a red string. The strangest addition to Wei Wuxian’s appearance was the countless ghostly-green fireflies floating around him. What purpose they serve, I do not know.”  The speaker shook his head. His expression haunted.

“Everyone believed that the Patriarch was about to start another massacre. One that would overshadow what he did in Nightless City. Instead, he plays one sharp note and Wei Wuxian dissolved into a murder of crows! The crows and fireflies passed through the shield and scattered into several different directions. Everyone else was left trapped within the barrier. For whatever reason, Wei Wuxian chose to spare the cultivation world his wrath that night.”

The crowd traded panicked whispers among themselves. The speaker watched them with an amused expression.

“You make it sound as if you were there.” The red robed youth piped up, while the rest of the tavern were busy processing the Yiling Laozu’s strange new powers. The rogue cultivator looked at the youth, affronted.

“I was there, ignorant brat! It took us nearly six months to break through that damned barrier and another three to search for that devil’s weakness in the Burial Mounds!”

“How has no one heard of this until now?” A member of the crowd asked disbelievingly.

“This is now common knowledge in the entire cultivation world. It’s not my fault no one cared to inform the people in this backwatered village!”

The youth snorted and shot back “How much of this story is fabricated? Unless you can provide proof that you were there yourself, I don’t see much of a point in listening to your fairy tales.”

The crowd let out murmurs of agreement. The rogue cultivator felt a tick mark growing on his forehead. He grabbed an item that was wrapped in layers of talismans from his pocket and slammed it on the table in front of the youth.

“Here’s your proof! The jade token that was once tied to Chenqing!” The youth picked up the token and examined it. The item exuded an absurd amount of yin energy that could only belong to something powerful.

“It certainly appears authentic.” He commented. The cultivator snatched back the token from the young man’s hands.

“Bah! What would you know?” He grumbled as a he re-wrapped the item and put it back in his pocket. The youth shot him an unimpressed look.

“You mentioned that you and your fellow cultivators were looking for the Patriarch’s weakness. Did you find it?” The youth asked blithely. The rogue cultivator gnashed his teeth.

“No. The Yiling Laozu is far too cunning.” He faced the crowd once more.

“While normal ghosts can be dissipated in numerous ways or sealed with a spirit-trapping pouch, beings like Wei Wuxian can only be destroyed through the destruction of their ashes.”

“Didn’t you mention he had a vial of ashes wrapped around his neck? Why were you looking for them in the Mounds?” A member of the crowd asked, confused.

“I’m getting there!” The rogue snapped before continuing “We looked for clues on where would Wei Wuxian go to for refuge. Through our findings we found many similar looking vials and took the chance that maybe his was among them. When we started destroying every vial we could see, we realized these ashes belonged to other ghosts. The truly horrifying part? After we captured a stray soul and demanded information, it was revealed that they willingly sacrificed themselves for the Patriarch. He did not even have to use his flute on them!” The cultivator shook his head in disbelief before continuing. “Somehow, this Wei Wuxian won the ghosts' loyalty after the destruction of his mortal body. They even called him ‘our lord’!”

“Perhaps he’s building a city for the dead as we speak.” One member mumbled. Almost everyone in the tavern let out shudders at that possibility. The only ones who weren’t affected was the story-teller and the youth. The rogue cultivator snorts.

“Now who’s telling fairy tales?” He took on a severe countenance.

“If the Yiling Laozu decided to create a ghost realm, the amount of resentful energy needed would attract the attention of every single cultivator within a thousand miles. Don’t you get it, you fools? He’s in hiding! Right now, he has likely suppressed the majority of his powers to such a degree that it would take a strong spiritual weapon to detect him.”

“Do you mean that finding the Patriarch is a hopeless endeavour?” The youth drawled out in a bored manner.

“Not quiet. Remember the ghost-flies? Normal fireflies only come out in the summer. Yet, no matter the season, these creatures follow him wherever he goes. We merely have to wait for news on them.” The rogue cultivator concluded.

“How sad that the entirety of the cultivation world has to rely on mere rumours and heresy to catch one measly ghost.” The youth remarked, casually.

“Well, do you have any better ideas?!” The rogue cultivator shouted. “If you don’t, then get out of my sight! You disrespectful wretch!”

The youth shrugged and got up. He brushed past the ill-tempered cultivator and smirked in secret as he exited the tavern. Once the ‘young man’ was a fair distance away, he pulled out the token that he snatched from the arrogant cultivator. A silver butterfly landed on the item. Hua Cheng waited as the creature scented the yin signature and watched as it took off in search of the source. He continued his leisurely walk.

Wei Wuxian. He thought. What an interesting character you are.

Chapter End.

Author's Note: Lycoris radiata is the botanical name for red spider lily. The flower is typically associated with death, long journeys, sad memories and final goodbyes. Interestingly, the colour red usually means love and passion.

Omake:

WWX: *sneezes for the nth time that day*

WWX: Aish! Have I suddenly become so popular?! Why the hell are people talking about me so much?!

WQ & WN: *judgmentally staring*

WWX: *sweatdrops* Nevermind~

All three: *see something let out a silver glow in a corner* Wait. What was that?

I'll try and post the rest of this fic one chapter per-week until I eventually run out. Hope ya enjoyed it!

[morphestic]

Only in the bsd fandom will you see people shipping Jesus Christ with Fyodor Dostoevsky.

[the-real-treasure]

Treasure Treasure! Masterlist

[One Piece Live Action] Sanji x Reader

COMPLETED

**FULLY EDITED 20/09/24**

Summary:

"I'm not a mind reader Monkey D. Luffy."

"No! You're a dream reader! And that's even better!"

-----------------------------------------

As a child you were told eating the Treasure Treasure fruit was the stupidest decision you could have ever made. It was pointless, offering no additional skills to assist or support the Supreme Commander's family or scientific endeavours. As useless as the overly emotional boy you were assigned to follow and serve, branded with the number 3 with a line scored through it.

But, as you lay in a courtyard, surrounded by marines vying for your capture and execution, and stared up at the grinning boy in a scruffy straw hat, you realised no.

There were much much stupider decisions to be made.

Read on AO3: Here

Read on Quotev: Here

Total Word Count: 58,800 words

Chapter One: Shipwrecks and Hopeless Dreams

Chapter Two: Straw Hats and Treasure Maps

Chapter Three: Whispered Wishes and Demanded Dishes

Chapter Four: Big Big Top Trouble and the Risks of Show Business

Chapter Five: Sweet Syrupy Lies

Chapter Six: Let Sleeping Cats Die

Chapter Seven: Returning Tides of Home

Chapter Eight: Mon Cœur Est Un Petit Âne

Chapter Nine: Treasure Troves in Orange Groves

Chapter Ten: Poisson d'Arlong

[thatbuddie]

los angeles wasn't built in a day

buck/eddie | rated m | chapter 1/5 | 10k (this chapter) | getting together, fake dating (in a sense)

“We’re not going to pretend to be divorced just so Chris can get into a summer camp, Buck,” Eddie says, trying to sound convincing even as he starts to feel his resolution crumbling inside of him. “Why not?” Buck asks, sounding genuinely baffled, like he can’t understand Eddie’s refusal at all. And how does Eddie begin to explain the irrationality of his rational denial? He can’t tell Buck the real reason he can’t go through with it. He can’t tell him without having to reach into his chest, clawing out his heart, setting it down at Buck’s feet still beating, and saying, “Because the only thing worse than loving you knowing I can’t have you would be having to pretend like I didn’t love you enough to keep you with me forever.” (or the fake ex husbands to fake husbands to husbands fic.)

(read on ao3)

[yueebby]

[bbutterflies]

gay nino & soulmates au…

[mikewheelerfan2022]

A few days ago I saw art of Kai being a member of the Forbidden Five. And ever since then it has been all I can think about. I have spent so many hours thinking about this silly little concept. I don’t just want to write a fanfic. I NEED to. And fuck it, I’m declaring myself the CEO of Forbidden Five Kai. Idec if it doesn’t become canon. It probably won’t. But I am obsessed.

[lilacxquartz]

Don't Make Me Feel Alive I Chapter 4

kenjaku x f!reader

plot: diagnosed at an early age with an illness that slowly deteriorated your body; you went from being a promising sorcerer to a retired husk of your once former self until he found you, offering you an opportunity to live instead—not that you had a choice to refuse.

chapter summary: your bond with him thickens but there’s still a lot to uncover. meanwhile, kenjaku plots something a bit different than what you agreed to.

< Previous Chapter • Next Chapter >

4. Bonding

You tried to understand why he was so beaming despite how he treated you the day before, but with little avail.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you warily asked.

“Oh,” he seemed to be caught off guard that you caught him but recovered nearly instantly, “I decided on something.”

“On what?” you asked.

He glanced down at you with his expression suddenly cold, before returning to an unreadable smile, “You’ll see.”

After that strangely cold interaction with him last night and after such a strange morning, such behaviour seemed to never repeat ever again. Even when the continued practice of the technique seemed to wreck its toll on the energy output and even when such drainage sent you off to an early night—he never once repeated such coldness with you again.

As a result, you decided that it was best to not dwell on it again because it didn’t make sense for you to be upset over such trivial things. The agreement was to help him out as he figured a way out to help you live, that was it, so as long as he remained conditional to his promise, you decided that how he treated you in the end didn’t really matter.

However, as the days continued to pass you by and you invested more time into researching ways into improving both energy input and output, you couldn’t help but feel more and more curious about what your involvement actually was here.

“No seriously, what am I helping you with?” You asked once more, having done so just a moment ago. You felt frustrated, finding that you didn’t quite like how he ignored you the first time.

Kenjaku in the meanwhile resisted spilling you the full truth, biting onto his tongue as he held back a smile, “As I already told you, you’re going to fight.”

Oh, how he wanted to spill it all, but he knew better than to tell you the full truth. It was already a miracle that you were fighting someone from your side; rather, that you switched sides immediately in exchange for life.

Mortality was so easy to play around with.

“Who?” you persisted.

“That’ll depend when the time finally comes,” he replied, leaving more questions than answers.

You sighed in response, finding yourself growing increasingly frustrated as he purposefully kept you in the dark, “What time, though?”

“You’ll know when I tell you,” he simply replied as his eyes squeezed with his smile, pointing straight down at you.

“But-”

“—Don’t worry about it,” he dismissed, leaving you utterly frustrated.

Despite finding your frustrations amusing, he did have his reasons for keeping you in the dark about his plans that went beyond just losing your willing participation, even if he could force your hand. There was the experiment he was running on the cursed tool for one and he didn’t want to feed into unnecessary stress that could likely deal more strain for the battery.

At least for now, he wanted to keep the drainage minimal which is why he excluded you from strenuous activities while assisting you with the tedious ones; such practice that he dubbed training, even if it was just helping your body to relearn eating independently, to utilise cutlery efficiently again, to aiding you in walking and even to helping strengthen your mind through reading and puzzles.

Even if you didn’t realise it, all of these tasks helped you gradually decrease energy consumption. Just like he planned initially.

As he noted earlier on before too, the company that you offered him wasn’t half bad, so he didn’t actually mind assisting you during such tasks, no matter how pointless or boring they seemed to either of you. Moreover, he introduced you to the concept of helping him with his own work, such as aiding him with the more tedious aspects of his planning.

However, despite giving you such independence, he still kept you relatively closeby, just in case another hiccup resurfaced.

“Hold still for a moment,” he instructed, taking the pendant slightly away from your chest but within reasonable reach so that you wouldn’t drop dead, tinkering around with it as you patiently waited. Cursed tool manipulation wasn’t an easy task, but his intentions were to maximise the efficiency of the item so that’s what he did.

However, as he placed the amulet back against your chest, something then went strangely wrong. He did his best to observe your reaction carefully, understanding that perhaps too much energy cast upon a body unused to it was overwhelming on your being.

As a result, your body began to feel off and suddenly you felt terribly dizzy. Again. In a different way though.

It was beginning to get a little tiring, he thought.

Standing up to try and determine what was going wrong, you accidentally ended up plummeting more energy, causing your body to take a heavy hit. Something about it made you feel similar to how you felt on the deathbed just before you met him; something sinister lurking within your instincts and pulling—dragging you off to a place you shouldn’t explore.

You gulped as the pendant waned and the glow subsided as though there was nothing left to keep it fired up and running anymore.

It was then that you felt stiff as your body fell, a dull thud drumming against the floorboards—the wood failing to echo the hit. You felt strangely cold as the feeling persisted; a sensation of pure dread enveloping your senses, anchoring you down into an early demise.

Kenjaku initially reacted slowly, incorrectly thinking that you would recover just like the previous times before. However, as you remained limp and your body grew colder, he froze in place as he realised you were on the verge of something irreversible.

His project had been going so well yet suddenly, it showed signs of failure.

“Hey, wait,” he backtracked, feeling caught off guard due to its sudden failure, unable to mask it so well this time. He was simply just surprised though, not panicked. He mostly just didn’t understand what went wrong.

He didn’t want for something that he had already invested so much time into dying off so early on, especially before your full potential could shine.

Thinking quickly, he transfused some of his own energy into the pendant while extracting the excess energy from your body. It was a slow, intricate and daunting process, however it seemed to be working as your body soon stabilised—your breathing returning back to normal and your flesh once again saturated to its usual complexion.

You later woke up feeling much worse from before though, wondering exactly what had just happened as soon as you sat back up.

“What was that…?” you groaned, your mind begging for answers.

As usual, Kenjaku continued to keep you in the dark yet again as he withheld answers.

He smiled, pushing you gently back down into bed, “don’t worry your pretty little head, I won’t try it again,” his fingertips stifling your lips, “get some rest instead.”

“But-” you let slip.

“—You’re alive, aren’t you?” he stifled, his eyes once again devoid of any emotion, he wasn’t going to answer a single thing.

Too tired to protest, you hesitantly nodded off as your body continued to nod off into a deeper sleep, your body feeling oddly heavy as you succumbed to a weary state.

Kenjaku then sighed a deep breath the second that you did so, continuing to remain locked in place as you slept, slowly inching closer to keep a watchful eye as you did so. Just like always, it was just in case something went wrong.

He sighed again as the familiar emotion resurfaced from before but in a different form, finding that he didn’t like how it made him feel. Eventually though, he too grew tired as his eyelids drooped, unintentionally leaning against the bed as his body yearned for some shut eye. It was then that he decided that it didn’t hurt to even share the same bed, just to monitor you and your sleeping habits if so.

But in doing just that, he secretly felt some form of relief as your safety was now secured, however finding that this might have been too just a little too close for him to be.

Something troubled him as he considered it all, determining that he had to be more careful with his experiments, hoping for some reason in particular that this couldn’t happen again.

That’s why he considered something new—something he wouldn’t usually do.

His mind internally conflicted, trying to convince himself that he shouldn’t risk it.

After all, you weren’t that special to begin with.

(Or were you?)

~~~

Your recovery was slower this time as it took a couple of days to get you going again.

As you figured out how to get back to right where you were before, you adopted a streak of independence in doing so and usually when dabbling in technique mastery, Kenjaku would often detach from someone who was getting the hang of it, letting them find their own way—but he couldn’t quite do so with you.

Finding that in fact, he didn’t like it at all.

And as he watched you slowly recover and train yourself without him, he didn’t feel a single shred of relief or pride for any longer, as it turned out.

Instead, deciding that since you were his project, that he didn’t trust you to seldom practise anymore. Finding that while it must have seemed irrational, that he preferred it when you were much more dependent on him instead—enjoying your company much more when you seemed to be unable to even function without him.

For some reason finding that it actually made him feel more attached to you.

Not that he could fathom why.

And as he continued to tinker around with the pendant yet again, you didn’t suspect a single thing when he changed something rather drastic in its function. Nor as his tone of voice grew slightly unstable.

“The battery is on standby unless I activate it with a condition now,” Kenjaku said as he offered an unsettling grin, the direction of his change feeling off as though he wasn’t actually addressing you.

“Why though…?” you asked, confused by the sudden change.

He then redirected his sights to meet with yours, leaning in a little closer with his smile falling flat as he did so, “Do you really think I’d trust you to do things like that alone?” He asked, his stare intensifying, “You’re already a lot to work with, you know.”

“But, I really don’t like that,” you chose to protest instead.

However, he didn’t really care about what you liked, only about what he preferred. Yet rather than arguing with you back and forth and getting nowhere, he instead tried to manipulate you that this change was for your own good—your freedom be damned as long as you remained docile and dependent on him, a feeling he unashamedly wanted more of.

“Just think,” he said as he leaned closer, “I can keep you safe from yourself forever,” his breath hot against your temples as he leaned in, “isn’t that so much better?”

Feeling cornered and distressed, you didn’t want to continue this strained dynamic, realising that you were no longer content with helping him out if all he was going to do was to keep you so restricted.

You knew that you were getting into something weird, but you didn’t quite realise the extent of his true intentions until now when he kept pushing nonsensical change after change upon someone he seemed willing.

As a result, you then pushed him aside.

He let you do so though as his lips formed into slightly curved lines—slowly rising to his feet and following you closely behind as you tried to leave the room. Just as you tried to take your chances with leaving through the front door however, he deactivated the pendant to minimal output, prompting you to be hit with a wave of exhaustion instead.

He then grabbed your wrist as you succumbed to the sudden hit of tiredness, leading you back into the room and locking both the door and the window on his way out, leaving you alone for the remainder of the night.

The energetic feeling from before returned.

Perhaps he would talk you into a binding vow, after all.

Maybe you were that special to keep around.

[kidvoodoo]

Here is the first part of the fantasy Bojere au!

This is going to be a series of stories with illustrations inspired by @tulinentuherrus ‘s fantasy designs!!!

Stories and illustrations by me! I hope you enjoy!

[hopelessfandomfreak]

what if….I were to write a multi chapter agathario fic….and actually see it through??

[celestial-toys]

That I Would Be Good [4/5]

Swan Upon Leda

Moon’s fingertips tap rhythmically along the edge of the counter, and he seems to be debating something. He finally speaks again after a pregnant pause. “…You’re like a God to him. Do you know that?”

His words cut through the fog in your mind. “I am?”

He nods solemnly. “You are. Not—Not in the sense that he wants to worship you… or at least, not as much as he wants to protect you. But there’s an undeniable, ineffable devotion there.”

------- ------- -------

In This Chapter

Breaking points are reached, confrontations are had, and secrets are spilled.

Pairing: Sun x Moon x Reader

Word Count: 5,781

Contains: [AU - Real World | Sentient AI/Automatons | Personality Swap] [invasion of privacy] [more of Sun’s signature Overbearing Behavior™️] [crying] [substance abuse (not specified beyond ‘sedatives’)] [arguments] [shouting] [brief physical altercation] [religious discussion/metaphor(?)] [implication of past sexual assault (not committed by Sun or Moon, to be perfectly clear)]

A/Ns: This is a songfic. Lyrics and title are from ‘That I Would Be Good’ by Alanis Morissette. Also, the title of this chapter, along with additional lyrics featured within it, are from the song 'Swan Upon Leda' by Hozier. Please refer to the notes on the Ao3 version of this chapter for my commentary on the song, and it's unfortunate renewed relevancy post-US election.

This fic is part of my AU “[Not] Made by Design”, the full series can be found here.

Links to other parts of this fic: [Ch.1] [Ch.2] [Ch.3] [Ch.4 (you are here)] [Ch.5]

That I would be grand if I was not all-knowing.

Curled up in bed one evening, you huff in frustration at the puzzle on your phone. The sound catches Sun’s attention, raising his head from the pillow beneath him. Shifting from his usual fit-for-a-coffin position beside you, he cranes his neck to look over your shoulder.

“Expose. Pate. Resume. Rose.”

You frown. “Really?”

“Try it and see for yourself.”

You tap the four assorted words he called out and sure enough, they collect themselves in a purple bracket on the screen. You read the category title aloud. “Words pronounced differently with accent marks. …Oh. Huh. Guess you’re right.”

His voice is neutral, very matter-of-fact as he pulls his head back, neck folding and collapsing to allow him to rest on the pillow once again. “Of course I am.”

You roll your eyes, sarcasm seeping into your flat tone. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the help.”

------- ------- -------

Settled down for a lazy Sunday morning gaming session, you mutter aloud as your character runs across the island. “Okay, I’ve got… 300k on me. Daisy’s sellin’ ‘em for… oh, I checked earlier, what was it… uh—109 this week.”

Moon’s voice rumbles out from behind you and you feel the vibration between your shoulder blades as you rest against his chest. “Sheesh…”

You voice your agreement as you roam in search of the young turnip-laden boar. “Yeah, I know.”

You try to do the math in your head. “So… that should mean I can afford—”

Moon cheerfully provides you with your answer almost instantly. “2,752! Or—well—2,750 is as close as you can get without going over since she sells them in bundles of ten.”

You try to keep the frustration out of your voice when you thank him for the help.

------- ------- -------

Your hand freezes over the bowl, a scoop of flour held in midair as you lean back to stare at the recipe below. 

“What.” Deadpan as usual, Sun questions you from his seat at the table. He’d apparently joined Zero in deciding that watching you bake was the most entertaining way they could spend the afternoon.

“It was… ugh, I need ‘two cups’. But I‘m weighing this out, so I'm trying to remember what that was in grams.”

Once again robbing you of the opportunity to think, he’s quick to feed you the information. “Two cups of flour equals 250 grams.”

You sigh. “…Thanks.”

------- ------- -------

Curled on the couch between the two of them, you listen as they test their trivia knowledge against one another, having fallen into a contest thanks to the episode of Jeopardy currently playing on the TV. You’ve long since given up on trying to beat either of them to any answer, and are currently trying to fight back the rising, nagging voice in your head that keeps calling you stupid.

After Moon effortlessly answers a clue so obscure that you’d have had no hope in hell of getting it, you wiggle out from between them with perhaps a bit more force than necessary. Quickly excusing yourself, you make for the bathroom.

“You good?” You ignore the concerned question that Sun calls after you, focused solely on being alone and calming down before you make a scene in front of them. You’ve just gotta… breathe. See things rationally again.

You just need a minute.

------- ------- -------

After more time than you’re aware of passes, spent with your head in your hands as you sit on the edge of the bathtub willing yourself not to cry, a soft knock startles you.

“Are you alright in there, star? It’s… been twenty minutes and, uh…” He laughs, but it’s a sad sound. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold Sun back.”

You hurry to your feet, placating them with “Just a second!” as you check your reflection to make sure you don’t have pressure marks on your cheeks from how long you sat there like that. When you pull the door open, you try to play it casual in spite of the fact that you feel no better than before. Unsurprisingly, you immediately come face-to-chest with a very imposing and very quiet yellow automaton.

You glance between his blank gaze and Moon, wringing his hands some feet off to the side behind his bolder counterpart.

“…Hi?”

“What were you doing in there.”

“Using the… bathroom…?”

He’s obviously unsatisfied with your answer but he doesn’t stop you when you slip past him through the doorway. He surveys the empty bathroom for a long moment before following as you make your way back to the couch.

“Goodness, didn’t mean to turn my bathroom trip into a full-family event.” You remark as you pass by Moon and Zero, both of them turning to follow you as well. You settle back down in the middle of the couch, Moon taking his place beside you. Zero paces around her bed, too bothered by the tense energy that’s now filled the room to allow herself to relax.

Sun stands in the middle of the room, rays clicking back and forth rigidly. “I am… concerned about you again.”

You sigh, quietly grateful that someone finally broke the awkward silence. “There’s no need to be, Sun.”

“I thought… you wanted me to tell you when I am concerned.”

“I—I do, but… I mean…”

You search for something to throw him off his line of questioning and flop your head back into the plush couch cushion. “Christ, Sun, can’t I even take a shit in peace without an interrogation afterwards?”

His arms cross over his chest. “I never heard the sound of the toilet flushing.”

You internally curse his observation skills as he closes the distance between himself and your seat on the couch. Crouching down in front of you, you begin to feel backed into a corner. “Now, unless you’ve taken up some new, gross attempt at reducing your water-waste, I’d like you to answer me again and be honest about it this time.”

You stare into his blank, false eyes for an uncomfortable length of time as an array of thoughts and feelings wash over you. You consider fabricating another lie. You consider telling some sort of half-truth just to get him off your back. But the longer you stay locked in an unwinnable staring contest with him, the closer you get to throwing caution aside and hitting him with the full truth.

And so you do.

“You make me feel stupid, okay?! And it pisses me off, so I tried to excuse myself to go calm down in the bathroom, but I can’t even get a break in there anymore, so now here we are!”

His expression flickers to one of confusion. “I make you feel what?”

“Stupid! Both of you!”

His monitor rotates to face Moon for a silent moment of shared bewilderment, and then Moon turns to face you. “Could you… elaborate a little more on that? When—How do we make you feel that way?”

You tilt your head over to face him, crossing your arms over yourself in an attempt to quell the vulnerability. “It’s… it’s not even your fault.” You wince at the way your voice cracks and tense up as your vision gets blurry, refusing to cry over something so trivial. “It’s just… I’m… struggling to come to terms with the massive gap between us.”

Sun’s harsh tone doesn’t help. “What gap?”

You blink hard, ignoring the tears that escape. “Intelligence! Memory! Information processing speed! You name it- you two are far better at it than I could ever be!”

Moon reaches out, laying a firm hand on Sun’s knee. What he silently conveys to him is anyone’s guess, but it’s enough to have Sun rock back on his heels, arms retracting and elbows propping him up against the coffee table behind him. The forced look of casualty doesn’t suit him, nor does it negate his overbearing demeanor, but you’re appreciative of the extra space nonetheless.

“Has this… been bothering you for a long time?” Moon’s question is gentle, and on quite the right track.

“Not… since the beginning, if that’s what you’re asking. I knew—objectively—that you both would be superior to me in that regard. It just…”

“Hits different when you live with it twenty-four-seven?

You glance up at Sun. “I mean… kinda? I don’t know. It’s… it’s the little things that have been getting to me. When you—when you solve a puzzle that I’m working on without a moment’s hesitation. When you don’t even give me the time to do math in my head. When you offer up answers before I can even hope to recall them. It just makes me feel so… slow.”

The room is quiet for a moment while they consider your words. Surprisingly, Sun is the one to break through it with an insightful question more befitting of Moon. “Is it that we know the answers, or is it that we give them to you.”

Your tense expression softens as you view your frustration from another angle. Looking back on all the little moments that bothered you, you find that the common thread running through all of them is that they beat you to the punch. “You may… have a point.”

Sun does his best to not look smug, but his best isn’t very good.

“I guess… it wasn’t really that you had the answers that bothered me. It was hardly even the envy that you found them faster, it’s really just—the frustration that I feel when you spoon-feed them to me. It’s making me feel like I never even have the opportunity to use my brain anymore!” You laugh a bit with the exclamation.

Moon nods in understanding beside you. “If I try… placing myself in your shoes, I think I can see how that would get upsetting rather quickly.”

As the tension in the room begins to dissipate, Zero ceases her endless cycle of pacing and sitting, circling her bed a few times before curling up in the middle.

Your attention falls back on Sun as he speaks. “I suppose I should… apologize, then. For… making assumptions. About what you were doing in the bathroom.”

As much as it audibly pains him to admit to having jumped the gun, you appreciate the apology. Still, you know his concern wasn’t unfounded. “I know I've given you both plenty of reasons to worry over what I may be doing in there. It’s… it’s alright, Sunny. I accept the apology.”

Moon picks up from there. “We’re both sorry about our… inconsiderate habit when it comes to helping you out. And—it really does come from a desire to help! But, still. We weren’t aware that it bothered you.”

You reach out to pat him on the knee. “Thank you. Just—can we all agree to give me and my feeble little human brain some time to process things?” You smile. “It feels good when I figure things out on my own. And I’ll… make it known when I would like some help.”

They both nod, and Sun’s voice is surprisingly soft, dare you say gentle when he speaks. “Yeah… yeah. I think we can do that.”

That I would be loved even when I numb myself.

Shaking two pills out of a small bottle, you cringe at the noise and hope that neither of your attentive partners are within earshot. Faltering, you stare at the medication in your hand, trembling slightly from the stress of the day. “…Fuck it,” you whisper to yourself, quickly coaxing a third pill out onto your waiting palm before tossing them in your mouth.

Capping the bottle and returning it to its place behind the mirror-door of the medicine cabinet, you breathe a shaky sigh of relief. Grabbing your water bottle sitting on the bathroom counter, you knock back a few swigs, quickly downing the evidence of your… bad habit.

Or so you believed.

Turning to leave, your stomach drops at the sight of the door, cracked open just slightly. There’s no mistaking the void of a certain someone’s blacked-out screen pressed against the other side.

Goddamnit.

The door swings inward, slowly revealing the rest of the overbearing automaton leaning against the outer doorframe.

Unsure how much he saw but willing to bet that it was too much, you aren’t sure how to address him. “Sun! I thought you were doing laundry. Do you… want the bathroom towels, or…?”

His tone carries a serious, contemplative weight, and he doesn’t bother to manifest an expression beyond two solid red eyes. “I was. And I did. But now I am far more curious as to what exactly you were doing in here just now.”

You try to play him off, laughing. “Sunny, we really need to have a talk about this tendency of yours to spy on me in the bathroom.”

He welcomes himself into the room and your personal space, and you back up a step as he reaches out to reopen the small cabinet above the sink. He reaches in, pulling out the very bottle you’d just held, turning it over beneath a critical gaze. “This was not prescribed to you.”

You rack your brain for excuses and answers to the questions you know are coming. “Y-yeah, it’s just over-the-counter stuff. Nothing serious! I don’t see what you’re so worried about.”

“You are not experiencing a single one of these symptoms. Why are you taking it?” He places a fingertip beneath the dosage instructions. “And why are you taking more than the recommended amount?”

You can’t help but get defensive. “You—you don’t know every single thing I feel every second of every day, Sun. Who are you to tell me that I have no reason to take that?”

His monitor slowly angles away from the bottle in his hand and up toward you. He stares you down for an uncomfortable number of seconds. “…You really have no clue how long I’ve been watching you, do you?”

With nothing more than a few cryptic words, an old fear blooms within you once again. “What are you getting at, Sun? Out with it.”

He huffs, and you hear the quiet hum of his cooling system kick up. “I am aware of your history with this medication. Do you know how many nights I watched you down these things just to knock yourself out long enough to get a few hours of sleep? Only then to stumble right back into the lab with a hot mug of heavily caffeinated coffee to keep on working?”

Your disbelief pulls a stupid question from you. “Back in the facility?”

He scoffs. “Where else? You aren’t the only one that remembers those long nights, you know? That place was loaded with security feeds, and there just so happened to be one in that beloved employee lounge of yours. You have no idea—the number of hours of restless sleep I watched you steal, the number of double-shot coffee pods and energy drinks I watched you burn through, the...”

His red eyes flicker out, leaving you with nothing to see but your own reflection in his dark screen. “…The number of times I watched you sit alone in a room with our lifeless bodies and cry.”

Your breath comes shallow, and if you weren’t so caught up in the moment, you’d laugh at how he’s found another way to make you feel exposed. “You weren’t even fully functioning back then, Sun. You both were still in training! Your AI’s every action was logged—I—I would’ve known. So how in the goddamn hell were you ‘watching’ me?” You know that what he says he saw really happened, but you’re not about to buckle without evidence.

His voice comes out cold. “Those ‘inconsistencies’ in my action log weren’t the mystery to me that they were to you.”

The defensive tension in you morphs into disbelief as an old suspicion of yours is unearthed. “Are you trying to tell me that you managed to watch me through the goddamn security cams for who knows how long—and managed to cover your tracks so well that I wouldn’t find the evidence? Are you really trying to get me to believe that?!”

His voice remains level in spite of your inciting words, but it gains a sharp and serious edge. “I suppose I just never had the heart to break it to you, but sunshine, I regret to inform you that you lost control of me long before you thought you did.”

Enraged, you step towards him, jamming an accusatory finger into the unyielding metal of his chest and channeling the pain that results into your rising voice. “You! You lying, conniving, control-freak! I fucking knew it! You were altering your own activity log and making me take the fall for it! Do you realize how hard I beat myself up for the shit I didn’t understand?”

You force your words through your tightening throat, refusing to let these old wounds bring you to tears again. “I bet you were just laughing it up, weren’t you? Knowing I would never even suspect you at the time, because you were still playing the ‘innocent, lovable’ character I wanted you to be. I know you just ate that shit up—watching me flounder in front of my colleagues when I couldn’t explain what ‘I’d’ done wrong.” Uncharacteristic aggression comes over you and your hand balls into a fist before slamming hard into his chest with your final words.

He doesn’t so much as flinch, and his lack of reciprocity only riles you up further. “Oh, no-no. You don’t get to give me the silent treatment right now!” Beside yourself in a storm of pent up emotion, you reach up to take him by the shoulder and repeatedly slam a fist against his rigid, unfeeling core. “WAKE—THE—FUCK—UP! I DON’T CARE IF YOU HATE ME—YOU OWE ME A RESPONSE.”

Contrary to his cooling system running audibly in high-gear, his demeanor is cold and collected. Placing the bottle of pills down on the counter, he sighs. You flinch when his hands rise and he ignores it, taking each of your arms by the wrist and gently, firmly returning them to your sides. His voice is low, speaking to you as he does so. “You’re a designer, sunshine. Not a programmer. You’ve been out of your depth with us since day one.”

You huff in defiance, crossing your arms over your chest. Having rid himself of your petty display of frustration, he props a hip against the counter and retrieves the bottle from where he’d placed it. Looking miniature in his grasp, he rolls it between his thumb and forefinger as he continues. “Contrary to what you think of me, I don’t particularly enjoy subverting your authority.” He hesitates, and his voice takes on a brief hint of humor. “Well—most of the time.”

Your eyes roll as you release an impatient sigh. His tone falls flat again, reaching the end of his point. “Even back then, I knew my actions could and would have consequences—on me, and you, and even Moon if things went poorly enough. And believe it or not, I did try to keep them to a minimum. I’ve only ever done what I deem necessary to accomplish my principal goal.”

You take a step back, growing uncomfortable with the proximity you created in your fit of rage. “Well, excuse me for assuming anything about what really goes on in your head. Might I ask then, what goal could possibly necessitate such behavior?”

His idle motion stills, slowly closing his hand around the bottle until it disappears in his grasp. “You should know the answer to that, though. You’re the one who instilled it in me, after all. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the first law of robotics.”

A tense silence suffocates the room, and neither of you do so much as move an inch until Moon’s voice crashes in from the doorway. “What the hell are you two doing in here?” Uncharacteristically aggressive in his questioning, you know he’s had just as rough of a time visiting the facility today as you did.

You beat Sun to the punch, some small part of you clinging to the hope that you can divert the topic away from your… habit. “This bastard’s been spying on me since before the beginning!”

Moon’s voice fills with exasperation. “What?”

Sun cuts in, pushing his own agenda before you can elaborate. “This reckless idiot’s been abusing sedatives again!”

Your voice raises over him. “They’re hardly even—!”

His monitor whips around to stare you down so fast it jumpscares you into silence.

Moon makes his way into the room, and you try not to recall the last time the three of you had an impromptu intervention in this same place. His gaze flicks to Sun with a critical tone. “I take it Sun finally told you about his… observations.” He reaches out and works the bottle out of Sun’s tense grip, looking it over with a frown.

A sense of betrayal weighs your voice down. “Are there any other secrets of his that you’re privy to and keeping from me?”

You don’t expect an answer, at least not one you can believe, but he offers it anyway. “…That depends on how you define a secret, I suppose.”

You heave a sigh but there’s little relief in it, more exhaustion than anything. Moon questions you softly. “Have you been taking these often again?”

“Ha. Hardly. I can scarcely get away with anything with this one’s prying eyes in every square inch of my privacy.” You stare daggers into the void of Sun’s screen.

His voice is louder than you expect when he suddenly responds, and you’re shocked at how full of emotion it is. All of his cold, unfeeling mechanical indifference replaced with something far more… sincere. Painfully so.

“I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t fucking care. about. you. Do you think I sat around watching any of your colleagues mill about the place? Do you think I gave a damn if any of them ran themselves into the ground? As if they ever even would. You’re the only one insane enough, stubborn enough, lonely enough to care about some heap of dysfunctional, lifeless material laying on an operating table. You’re the only one. Of course I watched you. What. else. could. I. do.”

His rays shutter and spin rapidly, hands balling the loose fabric of his pants into fists at his side. He leans closer to you as he spits his final words.

“So excuse the fuck out of me for giving a damn about the only person who ever gave one about me.”

With that, he turns on his heel, pushing past Moon and quickly storming out of sight.

The weight of his words join with the exhaustion from today’s stress, dragging you down. With the added effect of the medication beginning to kick in on an empty stomach, it all has you lowering your shaky body to rest—dignified as it is—atop the closed toilet lid. You watch Moon as he quietly returns the bottle to its place in the cabinet in what you assume is some attempt to repair trust between you. “I… appreciate the gesture, but I don’t really care what you do with it. I know Sun’s just gonna slip back in here once we’re gone and pocket it to keep it from me.”

His vents release a soft burst of air and he closes the cabinet, turning to sit on the edge of the counter. Monitor dropped low and staring at the floor, it seems you aren’t the only one feeling beaten down. The two of you sit in silence for a minute, collecting your scattered thoughts.

“You know, it’s hard to blame you for taking those after everything and everyone you had to deal with today. I mean—even I was ready to send myself straight into a shutdown after answering all those questions.” A small, sad laugh escapes him. “Living with you kind of allowed me to forget that not everyone sees us the way you do.”

You tilt your head to look up at him. “What, like the people that you are?”

His monitor angles to focus you in his camera’s line of sight. “…Yeah. Exactly.”

He raises a pointed finger. “But—still—you know I also can’t approve of you self-medicating. It’s a slippery, dangerous slope. That’s why Sun gets all… like that. Not—not that his way of doing things is appropriate, though. I believe I worry about you just as much, but I at least try to channel it into more acceptable methods.”

His hand drops back down to the counter, enervation palpable, and you wonder how anyone could observe either of your boys and question their sentience for even a moment.

“He wasn’t lying though. I hope you know that. When he said that he cares about you.”

You prop an elbow on the counter beside you, resting your temple against your palm. “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard him say it outright. Like—I’ve heard you say it on his behalf, and I’ve seen him nod along in agreement. I can even sense it in at least some of his actions, but… it’s different actually hearing it from him.”

Moon’s fingertips tap rhythmically along the edge of the counter, and he seems to be debating something. He finally speaks again after a pregnant pause. “…You’re like a God to him. Do you know that?”

His words cut through the fog in your mind. “I am?”

He nods solemnly. “You are. Not—Not in the sense that he wants to worship you… or at least, not as much as he wants to protect you. But there’s an undeniable, ineffable devotion there.”

You scoff. “You won’t find many people that would put their faith in a God that they know can’t even protect them. A God weaker than them. Inferior to them.”

Moon shakes his head. “Starlight, I don’t think you realize all the ways in which you have protected him. Protected us. Protection doesn’t always come in the form of a physical battle of strength. …Especially not when it comes to protecting someone whose entire life can be snuffed out of existence with the click of a button, or the flick of a switch.”

You twist around on the toilet lid, turning to face the counter where Moon’s sat. You rest your arms out on it, fingers drumming along in tandem with Moon’s rhythm. “How much of that is you projecting, and how much of it is actually his feelings on the matter?”

He laughs again, a soft, quiet sound this time. “Not as much of it as you may think! I… hmm. I guess if one were to call him religious, one would call me an atheist.”

Your brows raise. “Oh? Do you…” The implications cause dismay to swirl in your stomach. “…Is that your way of saying that you don’t believe in me?”

His monitor twists on its axis and tilts down toward you, eyes wide and round. “No! No—heavens, no that’s not what I meant by that!”

You stare at each other for a moment before breaking into the kind of muffled, shared nonsensical laughter that one only tends to experience during those late night chats with a friend, fueled by over-tiredness and the joy of being in good company. A… mutual, unspoken understanding of sorts.

As the laughter dies down, you reassure him. “No—like—I get it, I do. I honestly wouldn’t blame you at all if you didn’t believe in me. Certainly at least not in the sense of comparing me to a God.”

He collects himself and clarifies. “I… I do believe in you though. In you. The very real, messy, soft and squishy, vulnerable flesh-and-bone human being that you are. I believe in your heart and soul, the power that resides in your free will, and I believe in your capabilities and intelligence far more than you may think I do. Sun and I both put faith into all of that and more. I can even understand why he’d see you as a God, but… it’s… different with him.”

You can’t help but lightheartedly interject. “Goodness, what isn’t…”

Moon smiles. “Sun was the first. I was never far behind, of course, but you couldn’t do everything in tandem. He was the first to be trained, the first to be implanted, the first to troubleshoot with, and, well... Do you know the sentiment that parents make most of their mistakes on the first child, so by the time the second comes along, they’re… uhm, they ‘turn out better’? For lack of a kinder way to put it.”

You drop your head down and pull your hands in, using them as a cushion lest you knock your forehead into the counter. “Oh, now you’re gonna tell me that he sees me as his mother or something, aren’t you…”

You groaned the words out playfully, but Moon takes them unexpectedly seriously. “Honestly? …Something in between the two, if I had to guess.”

You let the weight of his words sink into you as he continues.

“I… can’t claim to be an expert on what goes on in that head of his. But I can get closer than anyone else can. He… doesn’t like letting people in, as you are well aware, but occasionally he’ll confide in me. He’s got a lot of walls up. Both metaphorically and literally. It’s difficult to wade through that chaotic maze he calls a headspace.”

His fingers gradually slow their drumming to a halt.

“Do… you remember… the first time we engaged the Eclipse Protocol?”

Your stomach tightens.

“I’d rather not.”

“I- I know. I’m sorry. I just… that night. When he and I were still linked, and he…” He shakes his head. “Oh, who am I kidding, when we were watching over you like a couple of hawks…”

“While I slept?”

“Yes. To keep you safe. … There’s… a lot about that evening that I can’t forget, but one particular thing struck me. Well, honestly it annoyed me at the time because it was bleeding into my headspace and overriding my ability to focus, but… it stands out to me as something profound when I recall it.”

He pauses, freezing for a moment before pulling a bent leg up onto the counter and turning to face you.

“Maybe I shouldn’t share this. Maybe he’ll get mad at me when I tell him that I did. But I feel like after the things he’s kept from you, well intentioned as he may be… it’s fair enough to share this with you.”

You rest your chin on your folded hands, eyes glued to him.

“There was this… singular line of text that just kept repeating, over and over in his mind that night. It… to level with you—it started to freak me out a bit.”

You question him, soft and quiet.

“What was it?”

“Five words.”

His facial features fade out, and a repeating line of text on his otherwise dark screen replaces it.

The sight knocks the wind out of you, and you can do nothing but nod as your mind starts spinning.

The text fades, and the familiar sight of Moon’s default smile and crescent eyes replaces it for a second, his expression then quickly morphing into something more appropriate for the moment.

“I’m still not sure what it meant. A general search for those words in that order results in too many options for me to narrow it down. The sentence sticks with me, though. I guess… that’s where my theories of how he perceives you took root. … There’s more examples, far more explicit things he’s said, but I… feel like I’ve shared enough already. Any elaboration should be his to do, if he ever wishes to.”

You nod, raising up in your seat and finding your words.

Moon—unlike Sun—never was the type to comb through your personal files, private playlists included. So it doesn’t surprise you that he didn’t spot the connection.

“Well. You’ve… certainly given me a lot to think about.”

His tone grows concerned. “I—I really didn’t mean to upset you more! I hope I haven’t…”

You reach out, placing a hand reassuringly over his. “No, no, nothing like that. I’m actually very grateful that you shared this with me. I… know you’ve got to be tired of serving as this intermediary between Sun and I… and I hope one day you won’t have to.”

He gives you his signature smile, and somehow makes it feel genuine. “I really don’t mind, dear.”

You eye him with concern. “Mhm… and one day I’m gonna get inside that head of yours and figure out why that is.”

His tone turns playful. “Goodness me! Can’t a little selfless couples counseling go un-psychoanalyzed?”

You smile. “Not in this house, nope.”

The medication's effects have long since started taking hold, and you rub at your tired eyes as your waning focus trains back on the day’s events.

“Moon?”

“Yes, dear.”

“We’ve got a bigger problem.”

You punctuate your sentence with a yawn, and he rises from his seat on the counter, coming to crouch in front of you.

“The problem being how sleepy you’re getting?”

You pout. “No…”

His warm smile doesn’t waver as he whispers a question. “Would you like me to carry you to bed?”

You falter. “W-well… yeah, I… I would like that, actually… but that’s not our problem!”

You raise your arms to wrap around his neck as he leans into you, effortlessly lifting you off of your ‘throne’ and encouraging you to hook your legs around his waist. Once he’s got you securely in his hold, he leans back to catch your gaze.

“What is our problem then?”

You whisper, mindful of Sun’s penchant for eavesdropping.

“How are we gonna get him to come to the headquarters with us next week?”

------- ------- -------

Not much later that night, you laid in bed clinging to Moon, quickly drifting off under his reassuring watch.

It didn’t surprise you in the least when Sun remained in his own room that night. The room was conveniently located just opposite the wall that your bed sat against, making it the perfect place for him to hide when he craved being near you but felt it kinder to you to keep himself away.

As sleep welcomed you, your ears picked up on a muffled, familiar tune coming from the other side of the wall.

You still aren’t sure if you dreamed it or not.

“The gateway to the world, was still outside the reach of him. Would never belong to angels, had never belonged to men.”

A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. I’ll be back in a few days with the final chapter! You can also find my notes and commentary on this fic right here on Ao3. Links to the playlist and moodboard for [N]MbD can be found on this blog’s pinned post, as well as in the series notes on Ao3. Image Sources: x - x - x

[mechazushi]

Kafka Hibino

Kafka Hibino.... with visible salt and pepper side burns.

Kafka Hibino.... wearing glasses and has salt and pepper side burns.

Kafka HIbino.... in that black turtleneck and a dark brown leather jacket and also wearing glasses and has salt and pepper side burns.

Kafka Hibino.... wearing that outfit and is an Animal Biology Professor in an College Au.

Kafka Hibino..... asking out Hoshina who is an Advanced Mathematics Professor working at the same college, to have an after-work drink with him.

Slightly DRUNK Kafka Hibino... becoming very forward with an also slightly drunk Hoshina

Slightly Drunk Hoshina... immediately matching Kafka's freak tenfold and Kafka is very much fine with this.

[dayas]

notre dame

eros and psyche

[stupidfatpenguin]

fanfiction math is opening an ao3 tab at 11pm and calculating which word range you can pick a one-shot from in order to still gain a reasonable amount of sleep before your 8am appointment

[krotiation]

one thing about katagawa redemption arc aus that i dont see anyone talking about is the fact that if he left maliwan he would be dirt broke. no inherited wealth. no cash whatsoever. and i think it would be very poetic if rhys REFUSES to hire him

[cerealforkart]

You know what sucks? I live in a timeline where Hunger Games AUs died out but I still have to see Harry Potter AUs every other day