#no loops au

[auncyen]

Say How You Feel

(...tentative title and yeah it's continuing off of this ahfeohef I REALLY WANTED TO FINISH TODAY BUT I GOTTA CALL IT HERE TONIGHT the writing juice is running low)

A...family? Your heart flutters at the thought--and then it drops.

Because Isa's wrong. He's assuming way too much. Bonnie already has their family, and maybe you're friends with Mirabelle but you're so bad at talking with her she can't possibly consider you family, and Odile's... already made it clear how she feels.

"No? You don't agree?" Isa asks. Stars, you want him to be right! You want it to be true! But...

"We're not even all friends," you mutter, and he looks surprised--did he forget?? You're supposed to be the forgetful one! "Don't you remember? Odile said we weren't friends, we're allies at best!"

Odile looks more surprised than you expected when you glance at her--she even looks confused. Did she forget too???

And then, with a flash of surprise, her expression switches to annoyance and aggravation. "Siffrin, I was joking."

"...Oh." This time you want to slide under the table and never emerge.

"No, but this is why it's good to talk about our feelings!" Mirabelle says. "Because, well, sometimes misunderstandings don't get caught right away."

"Gems forbid Siffrin had left thinking I don't even like them." Odile folds her arms and then looks aside, her upset expression slowly softening with regret. "But it's funny, in a sense. I was prepared to do terrible things to protect you all. Still am, should it be necessary." She smiles wryly, but it fades quickly. "But that's unlikely now. Instead, we need to do something I'm not very good at. Discussing feelings."

Isabeau nods. "Sometimes that feels like a terrible thing too."

"The worst," Odile mutters, getting a quiet laugh out of him. You smile, though your eyes are still fixed on the table. "'Family'... I have some issues with that word, but I...suppose it best describes the closeness I feel to you all. And yes, that includes you, Siffrin."

Your cheeks burn, and you glance up to see she's looking at you. You squirm a little in your seat. But she smiles at you with fondness, and the warmth stinging your cheeks isn't so bad.

"It fits!" Bonnie says. "We stay together, we eat together! Like me and Nille!"

"Mm!" Mirabelle nods happily. "I think it's a lovely description for us!"

"I think we're all in agreement, then!" Isabeau says. "Because, Sif, you used your wish to guide us all safely through the House. You really care a lot about us."

You nod, too embarrassed to look up.

"And we care about you."

You grip your elbows tightly below the table. Why is your eye stinging? This is wonderful! It's everything you could ask for!

"But--"

'BUT'?!

Isabeau's hands fly up when you look at him, and his voice squeaks a bit. "We don't know how to help you if you don't tell us there's a problem!"

"There's not--"

Bonnie bangs their small fists on the table. You nearly jump out of your skin. "You were crying, Frin! You NEVER cry! We gotta know what's wrong!"

"Easy, Boniface," Odile chides, gesturing them to sit back down in their chair.

"We need to talk about this calmly," Mira reminds Bonnie before looking at you. "But we really do need to talk about it, Siffrin. Last night, you...you didn't just seem sad, you seemed distraught."

"We'd really like to help, Sif. Even if it's just by listening."

"There's no point in talking about it." You slump back in your seat, hugging your arms. You feel cornered right now. Your friends in front of you, and the aching void inside you, yawning and stretching to swallow up your past. ...If they really want to know, eventually they'd see how empty you are anyway, so you might as well talk. Maybe it's better they find out here and now. (It probably would have been best if they'd found out before calling you family.) "I can't even explain it well."

"Siffrin." Odile's voice is softer than you'd expect. "I...have an idea what the issue might be. Correct me if I'm wrong, but...you can't go back home, can you?"

(Laugh it off. Tell her she's wrong.)

Your eye burns.

(Lie and you might have a little longer before they realize you're broken!)

But they'd figure it out eventually. You shake your head. No, you can't go back home. Mira makes a sad hum.

"Why can't you go back home?" Bonnie asks. "Were they really mad about the boat?"

Bonnie's question is so confusing that you forget about the stinging in your eye for the moment, managing to look up at them. "...What?"

"The boat. When you ran away?" Bonnie huffs when you stay silent. "You still don't remember? You were telling us the story yesterday, and then you just stopped in the middle! ...Frin? Are you okay?"

...Yeah, Isabeau said something about you telling a story about running away yesterday, right? At the time, you'd tried to put it out of mind to focus on getting through the House, but... if you'd ran away in a boat...

Your very first memory is of being in a boat, staring at the stars above, around, below you, the dark ocean mirroring the night sky. It'd taken you long minutes to realize you should get to land and search for the darkness that wasn't broken by pinpricks of light to find the coast. It'd taken you even longer, midway rowing there, to realize that no, it wasn't just the pounding headache making it hard to think: you couldn't remember anything about yourself.

If you ran away in a boat, then...that's when it happened, isn't it? "Did I tell you why I ran away?" you hear yourself ask. Because--it's hurt, for so long, not having a home, not even knowing why you didn't have a home, so if you can at least have an answer--

"You didn't want to eat your veggies," Bonnie says simply. "Even though you should! Veggies are good for you!"

...What? What?

Oh,

that's

funny.

"Frin?"

That's

so

funny

you

can't

even

laugh.

"Sif?"

-

"raaj isn't this the happier au" yes. but also it's still Siffrin here and it's just way too tempting to think about their reaction to the runaway story in the context of 'this is why I don't remember a blinding thing about my life'.

[yandere-writer-momo]

My take on the neglected spouse trope, but with a little spice. Short and to the point

Yandere Batman Shorts: Adorned In Pearls

Yandere Bruce Wayne x Neglected Wife Fem Reader x Yandere Batboys (platonic)

Tw: obsession, unhealthy relationship dynamic, power imbalance, time rewind, imprisonment (implied), death (beginning), and themes that should not be romanticized

“Put the jewels in the bag!” (Your name) didn’t even flinch when the intruder crudely held up his gun to her while she was in the kitchen. It seems her end was finally near at last. “Did you hear me?! Put your jewels in the bag!”

(Your name) calmly turned off the stove top while the intruder kept his voice raised. She had been working on breakfast for her ungrateful husband and her adopted children since they’d be back from patrol in a few hours. Alfred was in the Batcave which left her up here and vulnerable… not that they’d care.

“Let me turn off the stove so you don’t blow the place up if you shoot.” (Your name) calmly told him. She knew this would be a tragic end… and she looked forward to her suffering to end at last.

(Your name) unclasped the pearls from her neck and placed them in the burlap sack the burglar thrusted toward her with one hand. She then made her way to take off each piece of jewelry that was an empty gift from her husband. Even his mother’s ring he gave her for their opulent wedding.

“Code. Safe. Now.” The burglar demanded as he thrusted the gun in her chest.

“0219.” (Your name) calmly stated despite how terrifying the situation was. “It’s in the third room to the right.”

She could not get another word in before a searing pain filled her chest as a loud gunshot rung throughout the house. She glanced down at her chest or a bullet hole was now through her chest cavity.

The burglar walked off while she sank to the floor in a heap. Her hands went to her phone to make a final call but… she knew no one from this house would answer. (Your name) was always an afterthought, and she believed she would be even in death.

So she dialed 911 and waited for the operator to answer. Her right hand was stained crimson as the viscous blood pooled around her like a grotesque blanket.

Once she heard the operated answer, (your name) cut them off, “There’s been a robber and murder at the Wayne manor.”

(Your name) then hung up and turned her gaze to the ceiling. If there was another life, she would be selfish and live for herself. She wouldn’t rot away like lettuce in the back of a fridge in this manor. No… she would have more respect for herself.

Breathe in… breathe out. She smiled in peace for the first time in years. She was finally free from this lonely nightmare she had been trapped in for nearly two decades. Maybe, she would finally deserve her chance to be loved as much as she loved back.

How was she to know the nightmare only just began?

.

.

.

(Your name) jolted awake, her wine glass nearly slipped from her hand from the sudden movement. A myriad of voices chattered in the opulent restaurant has her eyes glanced around the almost surreal scene.

This was the restaurant she had begged Bruce and the boys to come to for her birthday with her six years ago…

“ Mrs. Wayne, would you like another glass of water?” The familiar waiter came over with a pitiful expression that she had seared into her memory from those years ago. The look almost every waiter gave her at any venue she went to.

“Actually, I’d like to order.” (Your name) smiled. “It’s my birthday… and I want to celebrate it for once.”

The waiter seemed surprised but happily took her order. This was the first time she had ordered rather than wait for hours for a family that wouldn’t come.

(Your name) smiled to herself, her gaze focused on the complementary wine glass that was brought to her by the wait staff. How sad was it that the stranger showed her more love than her own family?

She had a second chance… and she’d be damned if she wasted it.

.

.

.

After she had long left and enjoyed her meal, a dashing family of five hurriedly arrived to the restaurant.

Bruce Wayne looked slightly disheveled, but that didn’t take away from his charming good looks. The billionaire and his adopted sons hurriedly glanced around the restaurant for any sign of his wife and their mother. He knew she would be here… just like she always was that she waited for them.

They had all been given a second chance when they came home and found her small, lifeless body on the kitchen floor after patrol.

Never had they all cried so much as they cradled her cold, bloody form as they desperately tried to revive her. Each of them begged for another chance to love her properly.

Each of them had spent so much time finding the perfect gift to make all the lost time up to her and to finally celebrate her birthday like a family like she always dreamed.

They had always kept their distance to keep her safe from their enemies. Yet they had instead created a giant misunderstanding. One that they all desperately needed to make up for.

“Do you think mother is still here? I hope she didn’t wait too long…” Damian muttered, his green eyes nervously searched for (your name)’s delicate form.

“She always waits for us. She loves us.” Dick reassured the others, yet they all knew it was more of a self reassurance. “She will be so happy…”

The wait staff seemed surprised but they did give the boys some glares.

“Jeez, what’s their problem?” Jason huffed as he put his hands in his pockets. He didn’t see her anywhere… he had gotten her a wonderful gift for once.

“I can look up her location.” Tim chimed in as he pulled out his phone. “She’s around, I’m sure.

It was Bruce who seemed to search the hardest for her. A bouquet of roses were clenched so hard in his fists that his knuckles turned white. He would make this all right again.

(Your name) was alive once more… and he would make sure she never die or be hurt by them again. She’d be protected and cherished like she deserved.

“I’m sorry, but Mrs. Wayne left hours ago.”

The men all instantly deflated. She left? But she would always be here for hours for them… was there a possibility she returned in time too?

They all went back to the manor in haste. They wanted to celebrate her birthday with her… they wanted to celebrate so much with her. They wouldn’t let her be alone ever again.

.

.

.

(Your name) dipped her feet in the hot tub at the manor with a content sigh. Her lungs deeply inhaled the crisp night air with a dreamy sigh. This felt so peaceful. Why had she never celebrated her birthday like this before?

(Your name) didn’t even flinch when she heard the boys come home. Perhaps patrol ended early? It’s been so many years of being ignored that she hardly knew what went on in their lives.

She slipped the robe off and slid her swimsuit clad body into the comfortably hot water. Another sigh spilled through her lips, her muscles relaxed. This felt like heaven.

(Your name) jumped when Bruce suddenly slid the sliding door open with a loud whack. She was quick to cover her cleavage with her hands despite this man being her legal husband.

“ Mr. Wayne? What are you doing here-“ Bruce was quick to close the distance and pull her into a hug. Muscular man shook like a leaf as he held her to him. His heart beats so fast, she swore it was about to burst.

“You’re alive… you’re okay…” (Your name) did a double take at his words. When did he ever care about her well-being?

“Yes? Why wouldn’t I be?” There was no way he came back to the past too, right? Her neglectful husband would never hold her and bury his nose in her hair like this.

Yet here Bruce Wayne, her infamous billionaire Playboy husband , was with his face borrowed into her skin. His nose deeply inhaled her scent like she was his favorite flower. He held her as if she was something precious, something he has never done in their two decades of marriage.

“What are you doing?” She asked, but he only held her tighter.

Bruce pulled back to study her face, is blue eyes were dark like a sea storm. His brows were furrowed in worry.

“Hugging my wife.”

A humorless chuckle bubbled from her chest. So now she was his wife? Since when has he treated her as such.

“Is this a joke?” She asked him despite how serious he looked. “I’m just a decorated house pet-“

Her eyes almost popped out of her head when he planted a searing kiss on her lips. A gasp escaped her as his tongue thrust its way into the cavern of her mouth and tasted every inch of it. His hands greedily grasped at her body.

“Wife… my wife.” Bruce whispered against her lips. “My beautiful wife.”

“Mister Wayne-“

“It’s Bruce.” His voice was authoritative as he cut her formalities off.

“…Bruce.” She sighed. “I’m not sure what you want from me.”

“I want you. I want my wife.” (Your name) squealed when h got into the hot tub with her to hair with her. “It’s your birthday today…”

He… he knew her birthday?

“I didn’t think you ever noticed.” She muttered, but he pressed his forehead to hers.

“All these years, we thought we were keeping you safe by keeping a distance. How foolish I was.” Bruce sighed. “You’re safer in our arms, in my arms.”

(Your name) was speechless when he pulled a gift box from his breast pocket and opened it to reveal an exquisite pearl necklace.

“You deserve to be adorned in pearls and jewels. To be pampered by me.” Bruce didn’t give her the chance to move away as he clasped the necklace around her.

Despite its elegance, (your name) couldn’t help the dread that pulled in her stomach. She could not stop the feeling that this pearl necklace was nothing more than a magnificent collar.

“You look so beautiful in those pearls… they were my mother’s, you know.” Bruce hummed as he picked her up and placed her on the edge of the hot tub.

Bruce stripped her robe back over her form.

“Let’s get changed and go celebrate your birthday properly with the boys. They really want to see their mother.” He pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek. “and after that, I think you and I can finally make up for all the lost time.”

(Your name) felt a tear roll down her face that Bruce took as a tear of joy. Yet only she knew the truth.

She had believed she would escape and find her own happiness, now she realize she would never escape this gilded cage.

[starlightshore]

And thus they switched places until they inevitably got caught. The absolute dumbases <3

[captainkirkk]

I know time loop stories are often about characters going on an emotional journey and/or learning a lesson but if I was stuck in a time loop I would very quickly stop caring about consequences

Who cares if I spend all my money if the purchase wouldn't have even happened the next day? Who cares if I finally flip someone at work off? If I got angry and wanted to throw my phone at the wall, I could without needing to buy a new one.

Coming out of a time loop must be incredibly difficult. You'd have to relearn small petty consequences the way an astronaut relearns gravity after returning to earth. You have to relearn how to live like the next day actually matters.

[goosologist]

(How weird! To be noticed, and known!)

[valictini]

Off-center

Yeah… Loop’s going through it!

My human Loop was given a perfect copy of Siffrin’s body… or well, almost perfect. It has none of his scars and Loop is honestly not sure if they even have a beating heart in there. The low buzzing sound of their star drowns it out whenever they try to listen for it.

Also, here’s a little concept sketch I love dearly but won’t finish :D

[mari-lair]

quick sketch cause i already have too many wips

[deadlyeyez]

do we like odile here. is this anything at all

[flwrkid14]

Tim and Danny: The Couple That Could Have Been

Tim Drake and Danny Fenton weren’t just Gotham’s it couple—they were the couple.

Tim, the poised and brilliant CEO, and Danny, the charismatic streamer with a chaotic streak, were the kind of pair that inspired faith in love. Their relationship was public but never performative. The candid photos, the impromptu livestreams where Danny would drag Tim into the frame to tease him about his “ridiculously expensive suits,” the way Tim would smile when he thought no one was looking—it all seemed so real, so untouchable.

For years, they were inseparable, the picture of what love should look like. And Gotham believed in them. People joked that they’d be together in every timeline, every universe, because how could they not be? They were made for each other.

So when Danny uploaded a new video one unassuming Tuesday, everyone thought they knew what was coming.

The engagement announcement.

Danny’s setup was different this time—gone were the familiar vibrant backgrounds and playful chaos. The walls were bare, his face somber, his voice quieter than anyone had ever heard.

“Tim and I…” He paused, swallowing hard. “We’ve decided to go our separate ways.”

What?

No, that couldn’t be right.

This was Tim and Danny. The couple everyone was convinced would make it through anything. The couple people joked would find each other in every timeline, every universe, because it was always them.

But Danny kept talking, his voice trembling as he explained—without really explaining—that they couldn’t make it work. No details, no messy drama, just a quiet goodbye that left everyone feeling like the air had been stolen from the room.

———

The Batfamily found out the same way everyone else did—through Danny’s video. They hadn’t even realized anything was wrong. The last time they saw Tim and Danny together, they’d been the same as always: teasing, bantering, comfortable in each other’s presence.

Bruce was the first to confront Tim about it, cornering him in the Manor with that familiar stern frown.

“Tim, what happened?”

Tim didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

Because he didn’t know either.

Danny had been the one to end it. One day they were fine—perfect, even—and the next, he was breaking up with Tim over coffee, quiet and somber, like he was grieving something Tim couldn’t see.

“I just… we can’t,” Danny had said, his voice trembling. “I’m sorry, Tim. I love you. I’ll always love you. But we can’t keep doing this.”

And that was it. No further explanation.

Now, Tim was left packing up his things from the apartment they’d shared, trying to piece together what went wrong. Danny was on the other side of the room, just as quiet, boxing up his own belongings. They didn’t speak. Couldn’t.

The space between them had never felt so vast.

“I love you,” Danny had said, his voice breaking. “I’ll always love you. But I can’t… we can’t keep doing this.”

And just like that, it was over.

And Danny? Danny knew exactly why.

———

Danny Fenton was a coward.

He’d gone to Clockwork for help after the first heartbreak, unable to bear the thought of living in a world without Tim Drake. He couldn’t undo the pain of losing Tim to the Justice League’s doomed mission, but he could relive the good years.

Clockwork had hesitated.

“This is dangerous, Daniel,” he warned, but Danny didn’t care. He didn’t want to forget Tim. He didn’t want to move on.

So Clockwork granted him his wish.

Again and again, Danny went back. Every time their relationship reached the point of no return—where Tim’s inevitable death loomed on the horizon—Danny would break up with him, retreat to Clockwork, and start over. He couldn’t bear to see Tim die, not again.

But the cycle wasn’t perfect. The cracks showed with each repetition. Danny’s breakups became harder to explain, his excuses more transparent. He could see the hurt in Tim’s eyes, the way his walls went up higher and higher with every iteration.

And still, Danny went back.

Because he couldn’t stop.

Because he couldn’t let go.

———

This time, though, it was different.

This time, as he packed his things, Danny felt the weight of what he’d done pressing down on him like never before. Tim wasn’t angry. He wasn’t even questioning it anymore.

He just looked tired.

And Danny hated himself for being the reason why.

The world moved on, but Gotham felt the loss of Tim and Danny like a phantom limb.

The bats watched Tim retreat further into himself, his work becoming his sole focus, an impenetrable wall between him and everyone else. They wanted answers, but Tim wouldn’t give them. And Danny? Danny disappeared from Gotham entirely, his absence leaving a wound that never seemed to heal. Maybe that’s why Tim would find himself on that mission, before Danny's loop restarted everything again—caught in the endless cycle of fate, unaware of how close he was to losing it all for good.

Clockwork didn’t say anything when Danny returned again, his face pale and his hands shaking. He just stared at Danny with quiet pity, his form shifting through time as if he were trying to decide what version of himself could make Danny stop.

“You can’t keep doing this, Daniel,” Clockwork said softly.

Danny didn’t answer.

Because he knew he’d be back.

Because he couldn’t stop.

Because he’d rather relive the heartbreak a thousand times than face another world where Tim Drake was gone for good.

[starp00k]

my friend and I found a roblox ISAT rp game and both of us knew we gotta hop on that shit. It was fun!!!!!!

(based on this img that we rp'ed a bit)

[baeshijima]

— stardust

the world is a vast place. in the grand scheme of things, humans are but a speck of dust; much like how you are sure you are nothing but a meagre speck of dust in the world he lives in, forever to be remained unseen. (if only you knew how you are the brightest star he'd ever laid his eyes upon.)

CONTAINS : gn!reader, 1.5k wc, royalty!au, contract marriage/marriage of convenience, fluff, smitten reca bc what would he be other than smitten, a little hint of bittersweet at the end if read between the lines aha...

A/N : ....i have a paper due monday. i havent started it. why do i do this to myself. (reca i love u can u not hear my cries and wails as fic after fic appears in my brain for u...)

Duke Reca of the northern territory; to many he is a well-accomplished noble, a young genius set for greater things, and the owner-slash-founder of the top theatre company. He is an idol — a role model to those who aspire to be more involved in the artistic side of the world.

To you, however, he is an absolute lunatic, the bane of your existence, and your contractual husband.

It's not like you had much choice. It was either: a) remain as a hollow puppet whose strings danced at your family's fingertips, or b) find some way to escape with outside power.

You, of course, chose the second option. Unfortunately, that somehow led to you meeting the young duke when out in the shopping district, trying to escape the suffocating presence of your family's knights accompanying you by running into a secluded alleyway, even if it was for but a momentary breather.

It was a whirlwind of a meeting... quite literally. Bodies flew; clothing tousled; breaths stolen. Well, at least for you it was like this. He, on the other hand, looked right as rain. (Lucky bastard.) You hadn't realised it was him at first, too absorbed in hasty apologies and the numbing bloom spreading across your backside like a wildfire (really, they ought to incorporate more padding in these flimsy clothes!), but when he uttered an apology of his own for not paying attention to his surroundings with an arm outstretched to help you stand, your mind all but blanked. What was someone of his status doing in a dingy alley? Didn't the newspapers report word of his self-confinement, having not stepped foot outside his manor in fervent preparation of his upcoming performance?

No, never mind all that; wasn't this a blatant opportunity being presented to you? An outside power that could help you escape the clutches of your family...

With gritted teeth, all sense of self-dignity was cast aside as you grasped his outstretched hand with both of your own, gazing into his widened eyes with your own narrowed ones.

"Your Grace, I know this is hardly the appropriate time nor place, but please... marry me!" Your words echoed within the enclosed space. Duke Reca blinked slowly down at you, and it was then you realised you never elaborated. "In... in a contractual marriage of convenience, of course."

"Oh?" he grinned, amusement and intrigue twinkling in his eyes. "And what is it you can offer me?"

"I..." Truthfully, there was nothing you could offer which would be beneficial to someone like him who had everything at the tips of his fingers. You were but a speck of dust in his world, merely floating and remaining unseen within his view. But even so, here you kneeled before him, his gaze wholly fixated on a speck of dust such as yourself. If nothing else, you at least had your desperation — a desperation to be your own person. "My lineage may be from that of a baron's, but I am confident I can be of use to you if you would permit it. So long as you accept my offer, I will do anything to aid you, whether that be through practical means or a performance you wish to see."

A beat of silence.

"Ha... haha... ahahaha!!"

And, as if things couldn't get any worse than a sore rear and disgruntled self, you were pulled out of your daze by a pair of gleaming carmine eyes, a maniacal grin, and his body, now kneeled just like you were, so very close to your own.

"That determination... how brilliantly you burn with such an expression!" The sheer glee which bled through his tone sent shivers down your spine, having never realised someone so esteemed had such a side to him. The duke breathed a breathy laugh and slightly backed up, his hands still holding your arms. "Alright, I look forward to seeing how brightly you will shine in your performance, my dear leading actor."

...Was it too late to back out and find an alternative solution?

Admittedly so, for the next thing you knew vows were declared and you were moved into the duke's residence. You could still remember your family's aghast expressions the moment you declared you were marrying Duke Reca and thus cutting ties with them. It was oddly freeing to see their contorted faces reveal their true nature.

Life as the duke's spouse was... something, to say the least. His servants and attendants almost seemed to have shed tears of joy at the revelation of their ever so lonely duke (their words, not yours) finally settling down and getting married, asking you questions such as how you both met, what drew you to their duke, who popped the question first, why you chose him of all people, so on so forth. It was... cosy. Something you admittedly weren't very accustomed to, but found yourself welcoming nonetheless.

One thing you never expected was for the duke to have a little pet of his own; a little toad dressed in a miniature beret and matching suit, at that. Assistant Director is what Reca had called her, and you think for someone so obsessed with the arts he ought to up his naming sense. She was also quite susceptible to compliments, something you discovered when commenting on the little toad's cute attire, with the duke's baffling translation of her bashfulness and her own compliment on your own looks. Apparently. You're not really sure, but you're inclined to believe it ever since she claimed a spot on your shoulder.

As the days-turned-weeks-turned-months bled into each other, you found yourself oddly lost at how well-adapted you have become of your new life and the duke's personality. From impromptu displays of affection both in and outside the manor to sporadic radio silence on his end when wholly consumed by his fervent passion for a project, you sometimes wonder just how you're still alive with the amount of heart attacks the man has given you.

But despite his... eccentricities, to put it lightly, there are times where you can't quite put a finger on certain expressions he would make when he thinks you're not looking. They're unlike his (once again, to put it very lightly) passionate eyes when rambling to you during mealtimes about an upcoming performance the troupe has; unlike the sheer mania he can exude when something truly sparks his inspiration; unlike the playfully smug grin he would give you when swooping down in dramatic flair to press a long kiss to the back of your palm; unlike the rare darkening of his expression that you cannot help but stiffen at when something or someone in the troupe doesn't quite match his expectations.

No. These ones are... soft. A kind of tenderness and unprecedented longing able to be identified if scrutinised close enough. It was evident in the ghost-like touches he would trail along your skin, as though afraid just a little more force would do irreparable damage. It was evident in the attention to even the most minute details, having everything from clothing to food to the decor suited to preferences you yourself never realised you had. It was evident in the way unadulterated fondness leaked through his tone when his unique terms of affection for you slipped through his lips when all was silent and you were supposed to be asleep.

"My dearest star..."

...Much like now, it would seem.

The bed dips by where your knees slightly bend, hidden under the beige covers. A familiar musky scent surrounds you not long after, and you find yourself involuntarily relaxing at the comfort it brings as your head further burrows into the pillow.

You want to stay awake, even if it's just for a second longer, to hear what he has to say to your less than conscious state. But, oh, his fingers threading through your hair and softly massaging your scalp and the gentle touch of his forehead against yours and the subtle comforting warmth that rolls off his body in waves does little to help you fight the sleep which easily takes over.

Oh, whatever! You'll just try and catch what he has to say next time.

Eventually your breathing evens out, only soft snores now heard within the large shared bedroom. Upon noticing this, Reca cannot stop the fond smile which lifts the corners of his lips, nor can he prevent the softening of his eyes as he continues to gaze at your sleeping form.

"My dearest [Name]," he whispers into the dead of night. Even now, several months later, he still cannot believe his luck to have run into you in that alleyway. It must have been fate which made him heed its call, urging him he would discover something sure to escape that terrible slump plaguing him for weeks on end.

Sure enough, it brought him to something irreplaceable; something he has been searching desperately for.

You.

And, with the tenderest of kisses pressed to your forehead that would put even the most sickening romantics to shame, he murmurs words of promise against your skin, an oath he swears to uphold no matter the obstacles which stand before him.

"In this life, I will ensure you have only the best of endings."

if you enjoyed this, reblogs and/or comments are greatly appreciated <33

[auncyen]

Jouvente's most awkward lunch is finally underway.

"So you're still traveling around, huh?"

"Mhm."

"Any special reason you're in Jouvente?" you ask, and try not to get your hopes up.

Siffrin doesn't answer for a beat, cutting off another small piece of the croque-madame he ordered after you reassured them that you were going to pay and didn't mind. The poached egg yolk oozes over the ham and cheese sandwich; Sif moves his fork around to sweep the few drops that run down to the plate back up on the bread. "Um. I...wanted to look for jobs."

Oof. Feels like your hopes got up without your permission. It's fine, they've been put back in place. "Oh! That's right, you used to do odd jobs, right? Any luck?"

"It's going alright! So...what about you? With the..." Siffrin trails off, their brow furrowing in a frustration all too familiar to you. You quickly finish chewing through the broccoli and egg in your mouth to bail them out.

"With the tailoring? Well, I could say it's only sew-sew, but actually, I'm really enjoying it!"

Okay, you had to wedge that pun in there, but still, you thought it'd get a smile out of Sif, maybe a chuckle. Instead, Siffrin looks confused before giving you a smile best described as 'polite'. Sure, his mouth turns up and all, but you don't think he got it in the slightest. "That's good!"

...Probably your mistake for going for sewing puns right after they forgot the word for your work. Yep. Move on, Isabeau. "Yeah! I really lucked out--the store was owned by a seamstress who's retiring. Well, still is owned, but we've got a contract for me buying the store from her. She already moved out to live with her bonded partners, but she stops in twice a week to teach me what I still need to learn about making clothes."

Sif...nods, encouraging you to go on.

"She's cool! She pretty much worked as a seamstress all her life, so she really knows her stuff. Tells me right away when I'm making a design way more work than it should be." Sometimes all the fiddling details were necessary, but other times, you could get the right effect a simpler way.

Siffrin nods, still smiling politely.

Huh. You scoop up another bite of your quiche as an excuse not to talk for a minute, noting that Sif goes for another cut piece of croque-madame at the same time. You never thought a lunch with Sif could be awkward, but...

Boy, is this awkward!

Why is it awkward? You and Siffrin were thick as thieves during your adventure. Sure, it's been a while, you couldn't expect things to be the same right off the bat, but...

“M’dame Odile and Mira will be glad to hear you’re doing okay.”

Siffrin nods. Then he looks confused. Then...you're not sure what that expression is.  “Wait, are they here too?  In Jouvente?”

“No, no, but we’ve been writing!  The last letter was a week ago, they were going to see...aha, apparently there's a play about Mirabelle? She said it was embarrassing, but she and Odile were too curious not to go. Hopefully they liked it!" You weren't all that curious yourself. After all, you'd already lived the adventure. You knew the real story, the real Mirabelle! You hoped the play portrayed her and everyone else well, but you were pretty sure there was no way they had all the details.

Also...you had a bad feeling you were probably portrayed as a jock through and through. Since that was how you acted. You could picture the cast: determined Mirabelle, leading the way; clever Odile, strategizing against hordes of Sadnesses and then the King himself; fun-loving Sif, raising everyone's spirits with jokes and protecting them from traps; brave Bonnie, keeping everyone healthy with good food; ...meathead Isabeau, whose good point was being too dumb to fear the danger.

You're jolted out of that extremely unhelpful thought by Siffrin's next question. “They’re traveling…together?”

...That's a weird tone. “Housemaidens usually go on at least one pilgrimage, not sure if you knew that.  Since M’dame was interested in seeing a little of what Vaugarde's like when it's normal, Mira asked her if they could travel together. So they spent a few months in Vaugarde, and right now they're in Poteria. I think they're planning on Lichtland next? Eventually they'll get to Ka Bue, but it sounded like both of them planned on taking their time.“

Sif's brow is furrowed again as he looks down at his plate. Is he jealous? You were jealous too when you found out. But you get it! Of course Mira and M'dame didn't ask you. You were busy being a sad sack about Siffrin. Well, and even without that, why should they have invited you? It was their trip. Not like you had a good reason to tag along, just...

It would have been nice to.

You can't complain--Jouvente's been good to you. You were the guest of honor at a party hosted by the city, your family is so proud of you (though you know Guy is just happy to boast that he's a Savior's sibling to his partner of the week, which keeps making you secondguess how sincere everyone else is when they reach out to you), the neighbors in your new place have been warm and friendly, you got to start on designing clothes so much faster than you thought you would.

You just miss Mira and Odile a whole lot. You miss Bonbon. You miss what you had with Siffrin, because everything about this lunch feels so off, and at this point you have to ask.

"Sif...you are doing okay, right?"

They immediately smile brightly enough that their eye closes. "Of course I am! Why wouldn't I be?"

[pillowspace]

SIF: Sometimes I wonder // MIRA: if there's a world // ISA: where this never // ODILE: had to happen // BON: to me. // LOOP to Sif: Really? ... ...I don't see why it'd be any different.

[chipper-smol]

star abducted :3

[starlightshore]

Loop might be suffering but their nightshirt ain't

[daily-odile]

@tawnysoup's critters have captivated me... featuring odile the overworked petsmart employee