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ittybittyfanblog · 11 days ago

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Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 6

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a (!) player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, you get your very own samantha from her (2013) lol, time skips as a plot device!, this has an arc i promise, if anybody here plays disco elysium you’ll find that i took concepts of “the pale” as inspo at some points in this chapter lmao A/N: Oof this one’s a little longer than any of the previous chapters. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! <3 (and just a heads up, this might be the last chapter I post before I kick it off for the holidays. advance happy holidays! if you guys celebrate that sort of thing.)

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt 6

There’s a quiet stillness brought by the morning after that makes the problems of a heavier night seem like a fairly distant memory.

For at least a few minutes past the moment you blink away the stubborn grit in your eyes—you don’t remember the last time you’ve been this well-rested in ages—you lie, listless, on the soft powder-blue bedding of your twin-size mattress, watching specks of dander and dust drift from the amber sunlight that filters through the cracked panes of the casement window.

It floats aimlessly; unhurried. Much like you.

The echo of last night’s events return to you in sporadic flashes—fragmented and unsteady. The whispered exchanges, the playful banter between you and your unlikely conversation partner play back in your mind, like some half-finished supercut.

And the more you recall, the more awake you feel, chipping away the last traces of daytime lethargy weighing you down.

“So, what happens now?”

The sound of a car backfiring breaks through from the outside, like a starting pistol signalling the beginning of another day. A familiar, heavy weight presses against your side, and you thread your fingers through the scraggly fur of the purring feline who’s taken the empty space on your left, just above the covers.

You breathe in deeply, closing your eyes.

“I wish I had an answer—I’m still trying to figure that out myself.”

You realize how many questions still linger, a lot more left unanswered. Far more than what you were able to glean, at least. From what little you’ve learned, an entirely new moral dilemma emerges—one you never imagined you'd have to contend with.

There’s a lot of things you’ve never expected to happen. Yet here you are.

“Seems we’re at an impasse.”

It’s an odd thing in itself. You keep waiting for the disbelief to catch up, for a shred of sanity to surface and make you reject the situation you’ve found yourself entangled in. You should be feeling the same, pesky feelings that pulled you sharply out of your flight of fancy last night; a sense of trepidation for what lies ahead in this tenuous game of two.

But instead, you’re here. Now fully awake, and already looking forward to the day with wary acceptance. Looking forward to resuming where you’ve left off with that charming anomaly who’s upended your world, and left you suspended in an exhilarating limbo of uncertainty and excitement.

“...Indeed.”

You crave it—like the first stirrings of a neophyte druggie teetering on the edge of an irreversible habit.

You need another hit.

“Why the long face, little dove?”

Because if desire could manifest into being, it would’ve been Sylus.

“We can figure this out together, can’t we?”

You pick up your phone.

––––

“You’re here? Make yourself at home.”

You look at him, deadpan. He looks back at you serenely.

Your voice takes on a dry monotone when you respond, “Keep talking like that, I’m about to cum.”

There’s a shocked silence; then––

Sylus barks out a surprised laugh, immediately breaking character.

You snort. “Good morning to you too, I guess.”

He meets your gaze with a look of scandalized amusement, his smile wide enough to flash teeth.

"Good morning, indeed."

––––

You two fall into a natural rhythm even before the day comes to a close. Perceptive as he is, Sylus hasn’t let you linger in the unease left over from last night any longer than necessary—which to say, should be left buried and forgotten, past its provenance.

“So you could, like–hypothetically, top up my ascension materials… indefinitely?” There’s a manic shine to your eyes when you confront him back at the home screen, gleeful and triumphant after you boost almost all the 5-star cards you have of him up to max level. “Like an infinite glitch?”

He’s content to just simply listen to your excited chatter from his languid perch on the seat, one palm resting against the side of his face as he watches you—half-lidded and relaxed. Utterly entertained by your antics.

The slight twitching of his mouth, the subtle tilt of his head… each minute shift in his expression makes a whole world of difference from the version you’ve known him longest—almost a lifetime ago.

Now he acts so human, so alive, that it��s almost unreal.

(It’s almost imperceptible, but you swear the air also feels different; like the pixelated space around him is bending, stretching, to accommodate this newer him.)

“Sure,” he shrugs, lips quirking up into a half-smile as he notices the deep crease forming between your brows.

He knows the question you’re about to ask—curious thing that you are.

“How, though? Like, what are ‘materials’ to you?” You make air quotes with your fingers, making you appear all the more endearing to him look at, in your process to make sense of a world that’s unfamiliar to you.

“Think of it as upgrades,” Sylus explains patiently. “You place the order to modify the equipment I use, in whichever situation calls for it.”

“And Memory Cards?”

“... A video reel, maybe. Or a restricted case file—locked until you’ve got enough to trade for the information you want.”

“And I suppose the dealer in question here is you?”

He arches an eyebrow. “Who else?”

“Huh,” you say, considering. “So, Deepspace Trials. That’s something you do on the daily? Because I… make you?”

“More or less.”

“And you never thought to question that?”

“Mm, maybe I’ll start charging for my services this time around.”

You roll your eyes, already accepting his analogy for what it is. “Oh, please. With the amount of money I’ve spent on this game, consider yourself paid in full.”

––––

You were right about your earlier prediction—this new Sylus in combat mode is something else.

For starters, he’s a lot chattier.

“Ouch, kitten– don’t charge in like that.”

“Why are you using a sword? Don’t you like the guns I’ve given you specifically for this?”

“What are you waiting for? Make her resonate with me now.”

And, instead of sticking to his lines and responding to whatever the MC’s programmed to say during battle, he focuses on whatever you’re fussing over—no matter how… moronic it is.

“Ah, fuck! I hate that spinning thing!”

“Move, then. Let me handle it.”

“Block it, block it!”

“I would, if you weren’t halfway across the field. Stick closer to your partner next time, yeah?”

He doesn’t say any of his usual lines. Nothing from his scripted prompts. When all Wanderers are defeated, there’s no post-battle banter between him and the MC.

“Goddamn, you’re strong!” You whoop giddily, completely energized by straight winning almost twelve Orbit trials in a row. I guess that’s what a fully awakened Solar pair gets you, huh?

Sylus lets out a chuckle, infected by your enthusiasm. He doesn’t sound the least bit winded, despite all the damned fighting you’ve put him through.

“We make a good team,” he allows. And because he likes the little nose scrunch you do when you’re annoyed— “Although your dodging really needs more practice, sweetie.”

Before you could think of a comeback, the pop-up window for the next stage comes up. Ass.

––––

Come Monday morning and you’re once again swamped with work.

You barely have enough time to scrounge something up for lunch—if it weren’t for the persistent reminders from Sylus, chiming in every five minutes once the digital clock on your phone had hit eleven-thirty, you’d probably skip eating altogether.

And make something else than just boiling a pot of instant ramen, sweetheart. You’re on track for an early grave at this rate.

“I could… add an egg?” You suggest, unsure. “Maybe cut up some tofu, make it gourmet?”

He doesn’t even dignify the egg suggestion with a response. Tofu’s a good start. Now, what else do you have in your pantry that has nutritional value?

“I despise that,” you mutter, but start rifling through the cupboards anyway.

After amassing enough ingredients—or what looks more like a sad pile—that might, with some effort, turn into something healthier than your usual go-to fix, you start Googling recipes online.

‘tofu easy lunch recipe’

‘10 mins tofu recipes’

‘begginer recipe using tofu frozen dory mixed veg—’ Ping!

… Really, kitten?

You don’t even have to see him to know he’s giving you that look, the one that’s practically dripping with judgment over your dubious life choices.

(You know it all too well. Personally, in fact. You see it on some relatives' faces at the family get-togethers you’re always required to attend.)

Great. Heat creeps up your face as you mumble defensively, “Stop. Not everyone’s a culinary genius, okay?”

After that, he lets you be – something you’re thankful for, really. He’s being too distracting anyway.

Swallowing down the–stubborn and suffocating–embarrassment that's now stuck in your throat, you keep scrolling through Tasty dot co, praying you can whip up something edible with what (little) you have. You’re fully aware that you’re a grown-ass woman who can’t manage a basic life skill and that you’re probably about to burn down your kitchen—

Another notification pops up.

Pull up your tabs, sweetie. I think you’ll find something there that we could put together easily.

Confused, you do as he says. Sure enough, four tofu-related recipes are neatly grouped together in your Chrome browser, ready to be tried and tested.

Your eyes widen. “Wait—you did this? How?”

He doesn’t answer your question. He does, however, offer: Want me to coach you through it? Cooking’s more fun done with a partner, I’d say.

In the end, you manage to make something that tasted way better than you thought you could do by yourself. You have him to thank for that.

“You happy with it?” Sylus asks, grinning at the satisfied look on your face.

“Mhm!” you hum around a mouthful of food. “Fanks, Sy.”

“Anytime, darling.”

––––

“Do you really have to call me ‘kitten’? You sound like a Discord mod.”

Sylus has no idea what a Discord mod is, but judging by the contempt in your voice, it’s clear that you’re not giving him a compliment.

"What do you prefer, then? Princess? Poppet? Sweet thing?" He pauses, tilting his head. "Baby?"

You blush and look away. "... Ugh, whatever. Kitten's fine."

––––

Your routine with Sylus settles into a seamless, effortless flow as the days go by; it’s almost second nature, talking to him. So much so that you’d think nothing could faze you anymore.

Well. Almost nothing.

A message bubble from an unknown number appears on your lock screen: Hi, sweetheart. X

You almost ignore it—brushing it off as some dumb prank from a bored rando—when, not even five seconds later, another text pops up.

+0063-XXXXXX: Its Sylus.

… Huh?

“Is someone fucking with me right now, or…”

+0063-XXXXXX: Nobodys ‘fucking with you,’ kitten.

Then–

+0063-XXXXXX: Send a reply so I can see how it shows up on my end.

Your jaw drops. “Holy shit—you can text?? How are you doing that?” and, “Did you just cuss...?”

+0063-XXXXXX: 👍

+0063-XXXXXX: And Ill let you know if you text me the question 🙄

So you do. You tack on a now spill?? at the end for good measure.

You watch the “typing…” bubble appear, holding your breath.

+0063-XXXXXX: Its a complex mix of technical code and harnessing the energy from a dormant protofield Ive discovered, just south of Vagrants Land.

+0063-XXXXXX: The energy I got from it felt different somehow from your normal protofield. I figured I could put it to good use.

+0063-XXXXXX: Oddly enough, theres an… indescribable effect to oneself when youre nearing the centre of disturbance, shall we say.

+0063-XXXXXX: I can only decrypt the waveforms by the rarefield border surrounding the AoR. Any further and Im afraid the adverse effects may do more harm than good.

+0063-XXXXXX: But if amplified, it seems responsive to the filament of what connects your signal from deep space to this planet.

+0063-XXXXXX: Who knew it could act as a transmitter to send you something as rudimentary as a telegraph?

… Sometimes you forget how smart Sylus really is.

You: that’s pretty amazing ?? wtf sylus

+0063-XXXXXX: I get by OK.

You could practically feel his smugness radiating from those four words. You scoff, shaking your head in a mix of awe and begrudging admiration.

He sends two more messages.

+0063-XXXXXX: Im just glad we can communicate through other means, sweetie.

Sy-Sy (??): Now save my number. Sy Sy will suffice 😉

––––

Since your latest discovery that Sylus can now text (!!), you’ve been talking to him outside the game non-stop. It’s like talking to a very active friend who never leaves you on read, and you couldn’t be more ecstatic.

You: so no one else in ur universe knows anything abt ur situation?

You: no one else acting funny or sumn ? >.>

Sy-Sy (??): None that I know of, no. I prefer to keep it under wraps.

Sy-Sy (??): Now that you mention it, Mephisto has been acting quite suspicious lately.

You: ?? suspicious-suspicious or just reg suspicious??

Sy-Sy (??): Hes with his other crow friends now. They might be attempting a murder.

You: ………. is that…. supposed 2 be a joke……….

Sy-Sy (??): Im running on 3 hours of sleep, give me a break.

Sy-Sy (??): Also your textspeak is horrendous, sweetie.

"Um, hello—?"

Your gaze snaps back to the–very real, very present–person sitting across from you at the table, sporting box-dyed blue hair and a frown. You're at the Annex House; a sleek, new-age Japandi-style bar downtown, just an easy five stations away from your place. You both decided to try it for their infamous Rotten Apple cocktail and, of course, your weekly catch-up.

Khol, your friend of eight years since college, is currently giving you a mildly annoyed look.

Oops.

They point at you accusingly while complaining, "Ugh, we don’t use our phones when we’re hanging out! That’s the rule!"

You smile at them, sheepish, pocketing your phone as discreetly as you could. “I know, I know. Sorry.”

Then, puffing out your cheeks, you meekly ask, “You were talking about Anna...?”

They roll their eyes but go over the gossip a second time, much to your benefit. Phew.

Your phone vibrates. Twice.

…

You sneak a quick, final peek.

Sy-Sy (??): Enjoy your night out, darling ❤️

Sy-Sy (??): You let me know when youre back home, OK?

Biting back a grin, you send out one last text in reply.

You: will do !:9

Sy-Sy (??): Good girl.

––––

"Um–so this is my cat, Maru," you say by way of introduction, holding the plump, orange tabby in front of your phone that’s propped up against a carton of Koko Krunch. There’s a slight struggle in lifting his left paw between your fingers to wave at the man on the other side of the screen. "Say hi, Maru."

“Hello, Maru,” Sylus greets amicably in return, watching the both of you with clear amusement in his eyes. “Care to tell me the origin of this proud beast?”

You recount the story where you’ve first seen Maru five years ago, nothing more than a scraggly little runt at the time, hiding in the gap between a dumpster and the interstice of a cragged wall. You were walking home from a night out drinking with your uni buddies, when you heard the incessant meowing.

It drew you in like a siren’s call. If the siren in question had the vocal prowess of a warbling whale on the brink of death.

Upon closer inspection, the grimy fluffball revealed a stubby, crooked tail and wide, beady eyes. In your alcohol-fueled haze, you briefly wondered if you were staring at a tiny ginger rat.

“Well, it’s definitely all cat,” your friend Bee declared by noon the following day, calmly retracting a scratched and bloodied hand from the disgruntled feline, which promptly hissed and darted right back under the bed.

You hummed in agreement, passing her a wad of tissue.

"I couldn’t decide between Nospurratu and Catpin Meow," you say matter-of-factly, giving your capricious son a scritch under his chin. "Bee suggested I stick to something simpler, like Maru. Hence the name."

Your explanation is punctuated by an offended nip on your pointer finger.

Sylus is covering his mouth, but nods solemnly. “I think Maru is a nice name.”

There’s a moment where the two seem locked in a silent standoff, neither breaking eye contact nor making any sort of outward reaction. Just as you’re about to step in and interrupt the bizarre staring contest, Maru gives a slow, deliberate blink.

Sylus takes it as a sign of victory—or perhaps a ceremonial seal of approval.

With a faint smirk on his lips, he offers the cat a bow in respect.

––––

You’ve practically emptied the entire arcade of plushies—enough to put it out of business if it were actually, you know, real—and you’re bored to tears.

“Another round of Kitty Cards, perhaps?” Sylus suggests, but a single glance at your face is enough to let him know that you’d rather gnaw off your own hand. Or his. He might just let you.

Sighing dramatically, you complain about the limited playability of the “mini-games” in-game.

“There’s literally nothing else to do. Same old shit, over and over again.” There’s a pout on your face that Sylus wants to nibble on, not that you’re aware of the forming thoughts in his head. “No new banners. I’m stuck between Kitty Cards and the claw machines—I’m bored, Syyyyy,” you whine, stretching the last syllable for effect.

To be fair, he has tried to make it a bit more challenging for you. He stopped fucking around during Kitty Cards—no more extra two cards in exchange for one of yours, no longer placing different colored kitties deliberately in the wrong cups.

After six straight losses, your frustration is palpable. The fun is gone.

He makes audible commentaries during each of your six tries at the claw machine. Every time you manage to snag a plushie, he praises you for a job well done (It flusters you—not that he needs to know that). When your luck runs out and you grab onto nothing but air, he wryly points it out through some slight ribbing, but nothing that’s actually hurtful (This flusters you too—again, not that he needs to know any of this).

There’s nothing else to do. It’s like you’ve exhausted all you could in this small, curated window of his that you’re privy to. If only there’s a way to leave the mini-games behind, to do something new, perhaps outside of what the game has to offer…

Oh, wait.

“Hey, Sy,” you call the man to attention. “Wanna try something out?”

You beat him at Words with Friends by a small margin.

“Ha! That’s thirty-nine points, buddy.” You crow proudly, after putting down Devotees in a straight column.

He eviscerates you at Zynga Poker.

“... How are you so good at this??”

“Comes with the package, sweetie,” he says with faux-modesty after revealing (yet another!!) full house, winking like he hasn’t just wiped the floor with you.

By the end of it, both of you are in high spirits—except, maybe, for your bruised ego.

––––

“Say my name, say my name… If no one is around you, say baby I love you…”

“It’s nice to know that we have another thing in common, little dove.”

It takes you a moment to process what he’s implying.

You stop singing, affronted. “Wh—how dare you.”

––––

“Are you having fun?” Sylus asks, his tone droll as he stands there, hands on his hips and a small scowl on his face. You’re too busy spinning him around, thoroughly entertained by the number of outfits and accessories you’ve forced upon your slightly reluctant model in the photoshoot that's currently taking place.

It’s more amusing, knowing that he’s fully-aware of what’s happening. And that you know he’s aware of what’s happening.

He’s like your personal, sentient Ken doll—if Ken had ashy grey hair, red eyes, and a mercurial attitude.

“I am, actually,” you shoot back, grinning as you plop a tomato stuffie on top of his head. “Look, you two match!”

He exhales a long-suffering sigh, shaking his head in mock exasperation.

Not that it stops you. Fluffy bunny ears, a fish headband, an uncharacteristic halo—you’re relentless. “Hey, can you try a different pose?”

“That depends on the pose… and how nicely you ask.”

“Dear Sylus,” you sing, jutting your bottom lip forward and fluttering your eyelashes exaggeratedly, “could you please, pretty please, flip the camera off?”

He snorts but obliges, raising his hand to deliver the most effortlessly cool middle finger you’ve ever seen. “Happy?”

Woah. That’s… hot. “Oh! Uh. Yeah. Yeah, that’s—”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your reaction. You giggle nervously. “You look… hot.”

“Mm?” His smirk grows, teasing and predatory. “What was that?”

“Nothing!” you blurt out, but the pinking of your cheeks betrays you. He’s definitely enjoying this now.

“I could be convinced to do another one,” he murmurs, voice pitching a little lower.

You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting the urge to say the first thing that comes to mind. Stop, you whore.

Your nerves get the best of you. Without thinking, you switch to putting the MC back on screen.

Sylus blinks, red eyes narrowing as he looks at you, perplexed.

“Uh,” you shift your gaze between her frozen stance and his idle figure. The sudden silence hangs a little heavy in the air. “Would–would you like to do poses? With her?”

He opens his mouth, an automatic response—but he stops, expression flickering into something unreadable. Confusion? Hesitation?

His brows knit together, and for a short while, he just studies you, the space between you thick with unspoken questions.

“Do you want me to?” he asks finally, his voice quieter, almost careful.

No–I don’t want you to— To pose with someone who looks so-–

perfectperfectperfect by your side—I only want to see you—

I want to see you––

Why do I care–?

I don’t care––I care, I care so much––

“Why not?” you choke out, the forced cheer in your voice grating even to your own ears. You shrug, nonchalant in all the ways you’re not. “I’ll dress her up real nice, and then—” You slap a pink bow onto his head. “You can try to keep up.”

He doesn’t move, not paying the offending accessory any attention. His gaze is solely locked onto yours.

I don’t care. I don’t.

You take the first shot.

____

“What’s the song you’re playing?”

You pause mid-mop, cocking your head to the side in slight surprise.

“Uhh—Pedestal,” you answer unsurely. “By Portishead. You like it?”

He hums, eyes glinting with interest. “I do. Play the rest.”

And just like that, you’re introducing Sylus to modern twenty-first century music—and to Spotify.

____

From that point on, Sylus begins using your Spotify account to discover a whole new world of music—quite literally, in his case. Sometimes he steals the control from you, overriding what you’re currently listening to, just to hear the most random track play from your speakers.

In the middle of a mundane afternoon while you're completely locked in at work—hyperpop synths blaring in your ears—you’re suddenly jolted by the sound of heavy mandolins as an honest-to-god Russian military march blasts through your headphones, shattering your focus like a damn rhino in a china shop.

And so with the level of patience that could put the Virgin Mary to shame, you painstakingly explain to your friend the courtesy of not stealing the proverbial AUX cord from the “driver,” especially when it’s their turn on the radio.

The two of you reach a compromise, and thus the birth of your “shared” playlist. Sylus reluctantly agrees to explore on his own time—when you’re not using the app. Like when you’re busy with other things. Or when you're asleep.

You wake up to the first strings of a Muse song. One of your favorites, in fact.

Sy-Sy (??): Good morning, sweetie.

Sy-Sy (??): Last night was enlightening. I have you to thank for that.

Sy-Sy (??): Oh, and I hope you could indulge me. I added some songs to our playlist. I think youll like them. We both seem to have a thing for alt-rock.

Sy-Sy (??): Give me time and Im sure Ill acquire a taste for electronic music too. Be patient.

You huff out a laugh, lazily rolling over as you check your shared playlist. Sure enough, there’s twelve new songs on it.

You: awe that’s great sy :)) and these songz r rly good !! u got sum of my faves here

You: based on what u like maybe u can try looking up sum david bowie, probz massive attack idk

You: i’ll add stuff later for u to listen 2!!! <2

You: <3*

Sy-Sy (??): Alright, sweetheart. I'm looking forward to it.

Sy-Sy (??): ♥️

____

From the outside, the studio is just another unit among endless rows of dull grey—small and unassuming. Tucked away on the sixth floor of a nondescript building, it’s built as unremarkable as the rest.

Through a window stained with a mix of corrosive ochre and burnt sienna, there’s a quiet hum—the presence of something that wasn’t there a week ago. Life has shifted, ever so subtly, from an oppressive achroma to a much warmer vibrancy.

There’s a faint hint of movement. Inside, the young woman wears an almost-permanent smile, her phone an extension of her hand as she taps away with no semblance of rhyme nor rhythm—only in a continuous staccato. Her eyes are locked on the screen, as if drawn by an invisible force.

It’s elusive; this connection—something beyond. Supranatural. It weaves through the room like whispered secrets shared in the dead of the night, beneath a city blanketed in deep ultramarine. Soft, like a wind brushing through a still everglade.

The apartment, once steeped in a self-inflicted solitude—one that went by unnoticed for a long period of time—comes alive as an intangible presence fills its nooks and crannies with the steady warmth of companionship. There’s a gentle heat to the space now, like the glow of an invisible hearth.

The flickering of the string lights, the muted laughter shared with a voice through the tinny speakers of a handheld device, a slight signal interference… all feel like the genesis of an impossible story.

Outside, the evening sky is fading into twilight.

And as one looks out onto the street below from the sixth floor window, it’s almost as if the world outside doesn’t quite matter anymore.

Inside, the air is full of life, in ways it has never been.

____

“Come to me, just in a dream

Come on and rescue me

Yes, I know I can be wrong

And maybe you’re too headstrong

Our love is––”

Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @i2sannie @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @slyfoxtsu @beomluvrr @milkandstarlight @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle @tinyweebsstuff @sapphic-daze @sarahthemage @cchiiwinkle @madam8 @slownoise @raendarkfaerie @sylusdarling @luminaaaz @greeenbeean

(if..... for some damn reason..... the tags still don't work i rly don't know what i'm doing wrong T_T i'm posting this from a macbook is that it, is the ghost of steve jobs fucking with me rn)

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #lads x you #lads x reader #love and deepspace fic #sylus qin

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mint-yooxgi · 2 years ago

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{14} - Morning Mist - Yandere!Dragon!Ateez X Chubby!Reader

Yandere AU & Dragon AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Yeosang and Yunho)

Words: 8,901

Warnings: Allusion to assault/boundaries not being respected. Violence/Fighting. Brief moments of fatphobia and homophobia near the end (not done by any of the guys). I think that's all, honestly. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Oof, it's really been forever since I've updated this series... my apologies for that! Honestly, I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and I might focus a bit of my attention to getting out a few more parts of this series over the next few weeks or so, but that's still to be decided. Anyways, a bit of a nicer, longer chapter update for you guys. I really hope you all like it! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I do not do tag lists.

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve - Chapter Thirteen - Mini Masterlist

“Good morning.” A soft smile tugs at your lips as you greet the two males already waiting for you at the entrance to your village.

As soon as they hear your voice, they’re both turning to face you. A satchel is slung over your one shoulder, the material a deep green in colour as you adjust the strap lightly.

“Morning.” The corner of Yunho’s lips twitch upwards.

All you receive from Yeosang in a stiff nod in response.

Perhaps he’s not a morning person.

“Ready to go?” You inquire, looking between them both.

A grunt is all you receive from the shorter male as the taller of the two nods in response. You quirk a brow.

The first few steps down the path and out of the village are silent, each male settling in on either side of you.

“Have you both eaten this morning?” You inquire casually.

“Joong wouldn’t let us leave unless we had something.” Yunho hums in acknowledgement. “He’s always looking out for us in that way.”

The corners of your lips twitch upwards as you nod faintly, “He’s a good clan leader.”

Little do you see the way Yeosang’s one eye twitches at your words.

“Have you eaten?” Yunho’s tone is light, sparing a glance at you out of the corner of his eyes as you continue down the path.

“I’m not much of a breakfast person.” You reply, a simple shrug to your shoulders.

“You should eat something.” Yeosang’s first words to you this morning are terse, the male staring straight ahead.

“I will. When I’m hungry.” The corner of your lips twitch upwards in amusement.

“How far is it to Rose Village?” Yunho asks, keeping pace with you as he spares a glance over at his brother on your opposite side.

“About a forty minute walk,” you hum. “Five, if we were to fly.”

“So, we’re walking because…?” Yeosang’s brow furrows, finally turning to you for the first time today.

“You should learn to not always rely on your wings,” You reply, somewhat stiffly. This time, it’s you who doesn’t meet either of their gazes as you stare straight ahead. “You may not always be able to use them.”

“Well, I think utilizing our legs will be good for us.” Yunho grins, purposefully stretching his arms above his head. “It’s nice to get out of the house every now and then.”

“Yes, the world is quite beautiful, if you’re brave enough to explore it.” You hum in agreement. “It has much to both offer and to teach us.”

You see understanding pass over both male’s features.

“Hwa told Joong that you said you’re willing to begin training us?” Yunho attempts not to look too eager, but there’s a certain gleam in his eyes that you still pick up on.

“If you are all still willing to be taught-“

“Yes.” Yeosang clears his throat, noting the way both you and Yunho immediately turn to look at him. “Please.”

“Very well.” You smile faintly. “When would you like to begin?”

“As soon as possible, if that’s alright with you.” Yunho responds, a sudden giddiness to his steps.

“That can be arranged.” You nod once, firmly. “We can start now, if you’d like?”

“While we’re walking?” Yunho’s brow furrows.

“While we’re walking.” You confirm. “Though, I must say, learning is a collaboration, so you shouldn’t hoard what I teach you to yourselves. You’ll never grow as a clan that way.”

Yeosang’s breath catches slightly in his throat. “We understand.”

“No wonder San and Wooyoung have been so eager to share your teachings with us,” Yunho mumbles.

“My rule of thumb is: if you can teach someone else what you’ve learned after you’ve learnt it, then you understand the lesson being taught.” You say, adjusting the strap of your bag over your shoulder lightly. “Everyone learns differently, and of course you can cater specifics to your own needs, but the base is usually the same.”

“You’ve been saying this whole time that you wouldn’t teach us, but you have been.” Yeosang observes. “Through them.”

“I take no credit for what you’ve learned from your brothers.” You shake your head. “That’s all from them.”

“Hwa’s got some catching up to do…” Yunho sighs, an amused quirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Something tells me that both him and Canary Man are getting the rundown on everything while we’re gone today.” You hum, somewhat knowingly.

“I don’t know how you did it, but there seems to have been a shift in Seonghwa over the past few days. Ever since he came back home from seeing you, it seems as if he’s calmer.” Yunho states, his gaze darting to you once more.

“All it takes is one moment of kindness to show you a new perspective on life,” you smile softly. “I simply extended a hand out to him, just as I wish someone did for me when I was in that situation. He was the one that accepted the offer.”

“When you were in that situation?” Yeosang is quick to catch on to your words.

“Your eldest and I are a lot more alike than you think.” You tell them. “I was in the exact same place as he was, once. I almost lost myself, and he could have, too. I’ll be damned if I ever let anyone go through what I went through without helping them.”

“You’re wise beyond your years.” Yunho praises.

“You make me sound so old,” your nose scrunches in distaste.

Yeosang actually lets out a puff of laughter at the way Yunho begins sputtering out apologies.

“I’m just teasing you, Young One.” You chuckle. “I appreciate the compliment, all the same.”

The tips of his ears begin to turn red as he clamps his mouth shut.

Yeosang clears his throat. “Our training?”

“Ah, yes,” you nod. “How would you like to begin?”

“Shouldn’t you decide that for us?” Yunho quirks a brow, managing to get his bashfulness under control for the moment.

“I don’t want to be teaching you stuff you already know.” You shrug. “I’ve never seen you in a fight, nor do I know how strong your senses have become since the first time we met.”

“I thought you knew everything.” Yeosang blinks, almost innocently at you.

You laugh, “Not everything, Yeosang.”

You swear you see a shiver caress his spine as you say his name.

“Well, what do you know of our powers?” Yunho asks, nothing but curiosity shining in his eyes.

“If you’re incurring whether or not I know what type of dragon you are, Yunho, then you should be specific.” You shoot him a small look. “Speak of your own desires before you assume to know someone else’s.”

He swallows thickly. “Then, do you?”

“Do I, what?” You press, quirking a brow all the while.

“Know what type of powers I possess?”

“I do.” You hum.

He frowns, “How?”

You smile, almost tenderly. “Your youngest seems to enjoy talking about all of you to me as much as he enjoys talking about me to you.”

You hear Yeosang take in a deep breath beside you, almost exasperatedly.

“So, Jongho told you.” Yunho nods his understanding.

“For the most part,” you tighten your grip on the strap of your bag. “I can sense more than presences if I focus, you know.”

“Is there anything you can’t do?” Yunho breathes, a wondrous look shining in his eyes as he looks at you.

Yeosang lets out another puff of air.

“Quite a few things, actually,” you confirm with an amused grin. “But that’s not important right now.”

“So, then,” Yunho hums, his body half turning more towards you in eagerness, “What’s my power?”

Nothing but mirth dances within your gaze as you see Yunho practically vibrating with excitement as he continues to walk alongside you. Yeosang seems to have slowed slightly, his shoulders curling in on himself as he crosses his arms over his chest. A small frown pulls at his features, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looks irritated.

You meet Yunho’s gaze.

“Earth.” You state. “Rather, the minerals that fill the ground.”

Yunho smiles, nodding quite enthusiastically along with your words.

“It’s very fitting,” you add. “From what some of your brothers tell me, you are quite a stable rock in their lives.”

His blush returns, Yunho suddenly wiping his palms on the sides of his thighs bashfully. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” you chuckle. “Thank your brothers.”

Yunho spares a brief glance at Yeosang, noticing how the aforementioned male looks so irate.

“What’s the matter, Yeo?” Yunho’s head tilts slightly in worry. “You were probably the second most excited after San when we learned she would teach us.”

At this, your brow quirks.

Heat immediately flares to Yeosang’s cheeks, the male avoiding your gaze as he mumbles out a ‘just tired.’

“Well, it is quite early,” you hum in agreement. “We’ll be at Rose Village soon, anyways.”

“Is there anything we can practice while we walk?” Yunho inquires eagerly.

“Hone your senses.” You reply, almost instantly. At the way they both spare a curious look at you, you’re quick to continue, “You’ve been doing so already, that much I can tell. However, it isn’t enough. You,” turning your sharp gaze to the side, you meet Yeosang’s eyes, “should be able to sense things with the breeze for miles. It should get to the point where you don’t even need to expel any excess energy to do so; it should become second nature.”

He nods, eyes sharpening as he focusses on sensing the wind almost immediately after you stop talking.

“And you,” you turn your pointed stare to Yunho who straightens almost immediately, “should be able to sense the vibrations in the earth as to where your enemies are. Know your surroundings; hone your senses.”

“How do we know if we’re doing it properly?” Yeosang questions, his lips slightly pursed in concentration.

“You will feel as if you’ve become one with your surroundings.” You reply. “Having the powers you do helps tremendously, for when the time is right, such elements will feel as if they are speaking to you. Train your ears to notice the slightest of sounds. Train yourself to notice every scent in an area, and pick up on when they shift even the faintest bit. Trust your senses, and rely on your instincts. You’ll soon begin to notice things that were never there before.”

“And we’re supposed to do this while walking?” Yeosang frowns.

“The constant sound of our feet crunching the gravel is a good practice for a monotonous sound.” You go on to say. “It is repetitive, so you should be able to drown it out. You won’t always have time to gather your bearings while standing still. Search for the abnormalities within the constant, and you’ll master your senses much quicker.”

“I think I get it,” Yunho nods, almost absentmindedly.

“I know you’ve both already been expanding your sensory reach.” You comment. “It’s time to take it a step further. I have faith in the both of you. Don’t just think,” your eyes flash briefly as your head whips to the side, a bird taking off from a branch in the next second, “feel.”

Two nods are all you receive in response as the males begin to thoroughly concentrate on their surroundings. You can tell how intently they’re focussing, for they stare straight ahead, standing to their full heights as they continue down the path with you.

A small breeze picks up, and you can feel the ground beneath your feet beginning to hum with life.

“Good,” you nod casually. “Once you both feel as if you have a better understanding of our surroundings, let me know. I’ll test you.”

“Test us?” Yeosang’s head tilts curiously.

“I’ll start easy on you,” you grin, a knowing gleam in your eyes. “For example, there’s a squirrel somewhere close by. Find it.”

Both of their heads whip off to the right, a brow squirrel running down the side of a tree in the next second.

“Good.” You nod approvingly. “This is exactly what I mean. Everything is interconnected, and by the time you hone your sense, nothing will escape you.”

They both nod, soft smiles pulling at their features.

“This is also a good way to discern what you need to work on to hide yourselves better.” You continue. “Scent, sound, sight: everything can both work for you, or against you.”

“Now that you mention it, I can smell you a lot more, Yeo.” Yunho’s nose scrunches.

A small laugh escapes you, and you see the aforementioned male’s cheeks dusting red.

“Yeah, well, the sound of your footfalls are like a giant upon the earth.” Yeosang snaps back.

Again, you chuckle, noticing how Yunho’s ears begin to turn red once more.

“See, these are things you both can work on to hide yourselves better.” You spare a glance at both of them. “If you really want to test yourselves, ask Jaemin to track you. He’s the best of our clan.”

You do not fail to miss the way they both stiffen at your words.

“I don’t know,” Yeosang grimaces slightly, shooting a pointed look towards Yunho. “Wouldn’t want to stink him out.”

“If you’re worried if you smell or not, you don’t.” You reply, noticing how he falters slightly in his steps. “You actually have quite a pleasant musk, like fresh juniper and oak.”

Instantly, Yeosang’s spine straightens, puffing his chest out slightly as the corner of his lips tug upwards smugly.

Yunho, on the other hand, begins to pout.

“We’re almost there,” you comment, motioning ahead on the path with your chin.

Glancing forward, the two males can just make out the entranceway of Rose Village. Flowers surround the grand archway, and faintly, they can both begin to smell the pungent aromas drifting through the air.

“Who’s a better tracker, then? You, or Jaemin?” Yunho attempts to change the subject, if only slightly.

Your knowing smile says it all. “Do not forget that I was the one who taught him everything he knows.”

“Then, we should just ask you to track us.” Yeosang replies.

You shake your head. “You’ll never learn that way, and I won’t always be around to train you. My Neos are your best options if you even want to attempt to best me at anything.”

“Which is why you sent Woo and San to Ten and Taeil to start.” Yeosang hums in understanding.

“Exactly.” You nod in confirmation. “You should partner up with them if you want to learn how to better utilize your powers. If you want to hone your strength, ask Jeno to train you. He’s our strongest fighter.”

“Something tells me we’ll have to go through them before we can even get to you.” Yunho spares a look at you out of the corner of his eyes.

You meet his gaze, the corners of your lips twitching upwards.

“We’re here,” you pause just before the archway, observing the village with such a fond look in your eyes as you see people milling about just through the entrance. “Continue to hone your sense, you never know what you might learn.”

Without saying another word, you enter the village.

A smile pulls onto your features as you take in your surroundings. Many different stalls have been set up, lining the paths with different vendors selling their wares. There’s a fruit stand off to the side, a few different herb sellers, and multiple florists all chatting with potential customers.

Walking through the main road, you cannot help the wondrous shine in your eyes as you observe the daily lives of the townsfolk. That feeling of nostalgia that floods your senses almost serves to overwhelm you, your one hand tightening its grip on the strap of your satchel.

Little do you see the fond looks either dragon send your way.

“This way.” You voice lowly, shifting almost wistfully through the throngs of people towards the very back of the street.

Reaching the end of the row, the area opens up into a large square with a beautiful trickling fountain in the centre. Vines creep up the sides of the buildings, more flowers blooming from every angle and filling the space with vibrant colours of pink, purple, red, and orange.

There’s almost a renewed giddiness to your steps as you round a corner, more vendors lining the street. Your steps are precise and steady, heading directly to a specific counter right at the end of the row.

Silently, the two males follow but a step behind.

Two females can be seen conversing behind the stall counter. Both are quite tall in stature with dark skin. One wears her hair in tight braids, the tips resting just below her shoulders. The other has shorter hair, tight curls adorning the strands. Around their stand, three rambunctious children - two girls, one male - can be seen running around, hitting each other with different flower stalks.

Stopping in her tracks, one of the children seems to take notice of you approaching the stand. A large, dramatic gasp escapes her, causing her siblings and mothers to turn their heads in your direction.

“Auntie!” The little girl squeals, immediately running over to you with her arms outstretched.

The two males share a look as you wrap the little girl in your arms, picking her up and hugging her tightly as she giggles loudly.

“My goodness, you’ve gotten so big!” You grin, holding her against your hip as she rests her hands on your shoulders.

“What about me!” The other little girl says, tugging at your shirt lightly as she stands beside you.

“Yeah!” The little boy adds, standing tall with his hands on his hips. “It’s not fair you always pick up Delilah first!”

“Well, I do have two arms, Marcus,” you chuckle, shifting Delilah over slightly so you can pat his head affectionately.

Just as you go to reach for him, he runs away.

“No, wait! I’m too old for you to be picking me up!” He whines, hiding behind the stall counter with his parents.

“I’m not!” The other little girl says, running right into your arms so you can pick her up.

A moment later, and you’ve hoisted her into your free arm, giggles falling from her lips as she places a big kiss onto your cheek.

“It’s good to see you again,” the woman with the braids smiles kindly, an overtly affectionate look shining in her eyes as she stares at the scene before her.

“We’ve all missed you.” The other woman says, standing just a smidge taller than her wife beside her.

“I’ve missed you all, too.” You return their fond looks, nuzzling your forehead affectionately against the girl’s own.

They giggle in response, Delilah leaning into you further.

“Auntie, did you bring us anything?” She inquires innocently, blinking at you all the while.

“You know I always do.” You chuckle fondly, placing both girls back on their feet for the time being. “Jungwoo was very adamant about me giving these to you.”

“Oh, they’re from Uncle Jungwoo?” Marcus’ eyes instantly light up, coming back around the counter to stand before you.

Sliding the strap of the bag off your shoulder, you open the satchel. Reaching inside, you pull out three small wooden figurines. The deer you hand to Delilah, the eagle to Marcus, and the little dragon figurine you hand to the final little girl.

“Wow,” she gasps, nothing but pure awe in her eyes as she turns the figure around and around in her hands.

“Minnie, what do we say to your Auntie?” The woman with the braids smiles knowingly.

Immediately, the girl looks up into your eyes, a bright smile on her lips, “Thank you, Auntie!”

You chuckle, “Don’t thank me, thank your Uncle Jungwoo.”

“Auntie,” Marcus begins lowly, leaning into you as if discussing something secret. His eyes briefly dart past you to the two males still standing silently behind you. “Are you cheating on Uncle Jungwoo?”

A boisterous laugh escapes both you and the two females still standing behind the counter.

“Oh, no, Marcus,” you pat his arm assuringly. “Your Uncle Jungwoo and I are not together.”

“So, then, are these your new boyfriends?” Minnies ask, walking up to Yunho and tugging on the side of his pants. “Are you married to my Auntie now?”

You swear Yunho’s eyes nearly bulge right out of his head as he splutters over his own words.

“No, Minnie,” you chuckle, “We’re not married.”

“Why not?” Minnie turns back to you, blinking almost owlishly.

“Minnie, relationships don’t work like that,” the taller of the two ladies shakes her head endearingly.

“But you and mommy are married!” She scurries over to the both of them.

“That’s because we’ve known each other for a very long time.” The woman answers.

“Uncle Jungwoo and Auntie have known each other for a very long time.” Marcus voices.

“Not as long as Uncle Renjun, or Uncle Taeyong, though.” Delilah adds, matter-of-factly.

“My Neos are like family to me,” you explain softly. “Like my brothers.”

“What about Uncle Kun?” Minnie asks innocently.

“Children, that’s enough.” A sharp look is given to the three of them by the woman with the braids.

“It’s alright, Kamille.” You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You crouch down so you’re eye level with Minnie. “Uncle Kun finally found his special someone, and I’m happy for him. We agreed to just stay friends.”

“His loss,” the taller of the two mumbles.

“Trisha,” a sharp look is sent her way by you.

She shrugs, “Just saying.”

“Auntie! We have something for you!” Delilah exclaims excitedly, scurrying into the house behind the stall with the other two children in tow as they all remember their gifts for you.

You stand back to your full height, a curious quirk to your one brow.

The two women offer you knowing looks in response. Except, once they see what each of the children hold on their way back out of the house, they attempt to stop them. Only, they don’t manage to catch them.

“Mommy said these were your favourites, once.” Minnie extends a few flowers out to you, both Marcus and Delilah standing on either side of her doing the same.

Your breath catches in your throat as you see the children each holding out a few stems of bluebells to you with smiles on their faces.

A soft call of your name from Kamille sounds from behind the children. “We’re so sorry, we told them-“

“Did you grow these yourselves?” You cut her off, not even sparing her a look as your eyes begin to water.

Three proud nods greet your blurry vision, and your first tear falls. Softly, you grab the flowers from their hands.

“Look at you three!” You smile through the pain in your heart which suffocates you from the inside out. “You’ll be giving your mother’s a run for their money pretty soon. These flowers are beautiful!”

Happy giggles reach your ears, the girls twirling eagerly from side to side as Marcus avoids your gaze.

“Okay, children, why don’t you go grab some snacks for all of us at the bakery.” Trisha grabs a few coins and hands then to Marcus. “We have some things to talk about with your Aunt, here.”

“Okay!” Three cheers are heard as they all rush off down the street, disappearing into the crowd.

“I’ll go with them.” Yunho offers, already following after the three children.

Kamille simply raises an eyebrow.

“He heard the word ‘bakery,’ and now that’s all he can think about.” Yeosang sighs.

“I don’t blame him,” you wipe your tears from your cheeks, gazing almost longingly down at the bouquet of bluebells in your hand. “Rose Village bakery is one of the best around for miles. Seeing as he bakes, he probably wants to check it out.”

“Ah, found yourself a baker this time, have you?” Trisha jokes.

“I haven’t found myself anything.” You shake your head, a slight huff escaping you.

Both women finally step out from behind their little stall.

“It’s good to see you again,” Kamille says as she wraps her arms around you, making sure to avoid your back all the while.

“We weren’t lying when we said we’ve missed you,” this time, it’s Trisha’s turn to wrap you in her arms, hugging you tightly as you do the same back.

“I’ve missed you, too.” You pat her back affectionately.

“I thought you said you were going to come visit more often,” Kamille shoots you a playfully accusatory look.

“Yes, well,” you chuckle, motioning to Yeosang with your eyes, “Some things came up.”

“Oh, where are our manners?” Kamille immediately turns to the single dragon by your side. “I’m Kamille, and this is Trisha. We’re the Delaris’. Those three you saw earlier are our kids, Marcus, Delilah, and Minnie.”

Yeosang bows respectfully, introducing himself and his brother in the next moment.

“Yes, we’ve heard whispers about you Halas.” Trisha crosses her arms over her chest, a minor quirk to her brow.

“How did you-“

“The forest speaks in many tongues.” Kamille replies easily, moving behind her stall and rummaging around in a bin.

“You’re dragons?” Yeosang sounds more surprised than he figures he should be at this point.

“Not quite.” Trisha grins knowingly.

“They’re my oldest caster friends.” You explain, placing the flowers onto the counter before you.

Understanding passes across his features.

“Seriously, we cannot apologize enough about the flowers,” Trisha grimaces, her arms falling back to her sides.

“It’s alright,” you smile weakly. “At least they weren’t daisies.”

“But these were meant to replace daisies with-“

“Trisha!” Kamille’s sharp voice cuts her wife off as she pops back up behind the stand.

Both women spare a worried look in your direction, only serving to make Yeosang even more confused than he already is. At the pained expression you wear, nothing but concern pulls at his features, stepping the slightest bit closer to you. All he wants to do is ease your distress in whatever ways he can, his earlier irritation long since forgotten now.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve received bluebells from anyone.” You say, voice barely above a whisper. Gently, one of your fingers traces over a bloom. “They don’t grow on this side of the fjord. Naturally, at least.”

“We haven’t sensed any of them crossing over in quite a long time.” Kamille comments.

“They shouldn’t.” You meet her gaze, your eyes flashing. “Nor will they ever again.”

“What about Bokkie?” Trisha’s brow furrows slightly.

You simply shake your head in response.

Yeosang frowns.

“Anyways,” Kamille clears her throat. “I take it you’re here for your usual order?”

“I can’t come to see my old friends?” You tease.

“Hey!” Trisha protests. “We’re not that old!”

“You’re almost as old as I am.” You chuckle, your eyes crinkling at the sides.

“Give or take about a hundred years.” Kamille mumbles, a playful roll to her eyes.

Yeosang’s eyes widen in shock.

“Oh, you’ve gone and stunned the poor baby dragon.” Trisha tuts, turning to meet Yeosang’s gaze in the next second. “Us witches know quite a few tricks to staying youthful, you know.”

“Of course, it helps to keep your nose out of trouble.” Kamille adds.

“You two, staying out of trouble?” You quirk a brow. “Unlikely.”

The two women share a look.

“Guilty.” Trisha chuckles, shooting a wink in your direction. “Now, come with me and I’ll help you get those herbs you like so much.”

A simple nod is all you offer her in response, following her into the house and chatting idly as you leave Yeosang with Kamille.

“Are you sure the kid is going to be okay with Kami by himself?” Trisha asks from over her shoulder.

“I heard that!” Kamille calls after you both.

You chuckle, “I’m quite certain Yeosang can handle himself.

Little do you see how the aforementioned male straightens slightly, the corner of his lip twitching upwards faintly.

“Alright,” Trisha chuckles, guiding you into the back room of the house where their rarer herbs reside. “Well, as always, you’re welcome to anything and everything you’d like.”

“I literally cannot thank you enough,” you smile, already harvesting some thistle wart from its pot. “Oh, actually, before I forget, I brought something for the two of you, as well.”

Pausing in your movements, you reach into your satchel once more and pull out two leather-bound books, and two small carved crystals.

“I finished compiling that tome you asked me the last time, and I think you’ll enjoy the other one, too. The crystals are a gift from me to you, as a thank you for everything you two have done.” You place each item carefully into her own hands. “They’re also good luck charms.”

Trisha places both books onto a side table before carefully examining the carved crystals. One is in the shape of an obelisk, symbols carved along its side. The other is smooth like a river stone, perfectly oval in shaped. Both are milky white in colour, and her eyes flash with understanding.

“Thank you,” she bows deeply before wrapping you in another hug. “You’ve always done more for this family than we deserve.”

“Nonsense,” you shake your head, holding her at arms length once she pulls away. “You guys are my family, not just My Neos.”

“Then, you know if you ever need anything, all you need to do is ask, right?” She quirks a brow at you.

“Of course.” You nod, quite firmly at her. “Know that the same is true of me with you.”

Trisha returns your smile.

A moment later, and you return to harvesting the plants scattered around the room.

“So, are you going to tell us about you and those Hala dragons of yours?” She inquires, somewhat knowingly.

“There’s nothing major, really.” You shrug, placing some herbs into your satchel. “I consider them my friends, for my part.”

“There hasn’t been a raid from them since they attempted to harm your village.” She observes, and at your mildly surprised look, she clarifies, “Renjun’s been by a few times with Johnny.”

“Has he, now?” Understanding crosses your features. “Well, they’ve certainly calmed themselves since I’ve met them.”

“Any of which your doing?” She leans against the side table, tilting her head in your direction.

“I do not control other’s actions.” Comes your quick reply, but even she can tell you’re now avoiding her gaze.

“Normally Taeyong joins you on a day like today.” She observes. “Yet, two Halas are here instead. Either he knows something we don’t, or he’s currently on his deathbed.”

“If you’re suggesting Taeyong set me up, you’d sadly be mistaken.” You reply, glancing up at her from the plant you’re currently harvesting. “The two of them simply convinced him to let them take his place. Which reminds me… Yongie said he wanted some more of your roses, if you’d be so kind.”

“I’ll let Kamille know,” Trisha hums, watching you carefully.

A moment of silence.

“I’m going to train them.”

Trisha blinks at you in shock. She clears her throat, “Are you sure?”

“I said I would.” Comes your resolute answer.

“You haven’t offered to train anyone since the Wolves-“

“I know.” You cut her off, exhaling a deep sigh as you stand back to your full height. “I can’t keep living my life in the shadow of his betrayal, Trish. I’m tired of letting it control me.”

“This is about more than just training, isn’t it?” Her tone is soft as she takes a step towards you, placing a gentle hand onto the side of your arm in comfort.

“It’s been over fifty years, Trish-“ your voice catches in your throat as she begins rubbing your arm soothingly. Tears begin to gather once more in your eyes, your own hands clinging desperately to the strap of your satchel. “I don’t want to watch my life pass by from the outside anymore. I want to start living again, and maybe-“ you swallow thickly, “maybe even learn to love again.”

She smiles softly at you, giving your arm a light squeeze.

“And honestly, Trisha,” you suck in a sharp breath, “I’m terrified. I want to believe him- I want to believe in him so badly, it hurts, but I don’t know if I can. And then what happened with Kun…” You trail off. “I can’t go through another-“ you choke on a sob, “I can’t-“

“I know, sweetie,” she coos, shushing you all the while as she wraps you in her embrace. “I know.”

“The most terrifying thought, though, is that I am.” You whisper lowly. “I am starting to believe him.”

“The one outside?” Her brow furrows slightly.

“No, his brother.” You shake your head.

“The baker?”

“No, their youngest.” You clarify.

A noise of understanding echoes in her throat.

“Why do you-“

“I think it’s more than just the youngest that’s making you believe.” She observes. “Sure, he may have been the catalyst, but I know you. Even you would have had a difficult time agreeing to let anyone but Taeyong come with you to see us today. Hell, even bringing them to this festival is something you would have denied to anyone whom you didn’t trust.”

You take a moment to consider her words. “I suppose you’re right.”

“I’m not going to sit here and tell you what you should do. Only you can decide that for yourself.” She says, pulling away to stare deeply into your eyes. “What I can tell you is this: you are not the same person you were all those years ago. You know both Kami and I strongly believe in things always happening for a reason, and perhaps what happened with Kun was meant to happen so you could find them. Perhaps letting yourself believe won’t be such a bad thing.”

You nod lightly.

“Besides, I can sense the magic of this youngest’s Drygg Promise all over you.” She tilts her head knowingly. “It’s the strongest, most sincere form of magic I’ve ever seen from anybody. Even from you.”

“He is quite convincing.” You chuckle fondly.

“Convincing, or sincere?” She squeezes your arm once more. “Come on, the kids should be back by now.”

“I’ll be out in a minute, I just have a few more herbs to get.” You tell her, noticing how she begins to head towards the front.

A call of her name from you stops her.

“Thank you.” You meet her gaze, clearing your throat lightly as you compose yourself. “For everything.”

Trisha smiles. “You know we’re always here for you. I think it’s time you let some new people in, as well.”

Without another word, or waiting for a response from you for that matter, she leaves back out through the front door.

Perhaps she’s right. Maybe it is time for you to allow yourself to grow and let go of your past.

Finally, you think you’re ready to move on.

Stepping back out of the house a few minutes later, you see both women conversing with Yeosang. The tips of his ears are dusted a faint red, and even you can see the way he seemingly lights up as soon as he sees you.

“There you are,” Kamille nudges your side gently as you come to stand beside her. “Yeosang was worried you got lost.”

“I was not!” His eyes widen, greatly scandalized by Kamille’s words.

“Right.” Trisha laughs. “And you weren’t just thinking about storming past us to make sure she was still alive.”

The way he begins to splutter says it all.

“It’s okay,” Trisha pats him affectionately on his arm. “We know the signs all too well.”

“What signs?” Yeosang shifts his gaze between them, a confused, almost defensive furrow to his brow.

The two women share a look. “Denial.”

“The kids aren’t back yet?” You cut in, glancing around the area briefly and not seeing them, or a much taller male in sight.

“Not yet,” Kamille shakes her head, a worried pull to her lips downwards.

“Not that we don’t trust your brother,” Trisha adds, sparing a brief look at Yeosang, “but they should have been back by now.”

Your head tilts, and you notice Yeosang’s does, too.

“Mommy!” A cry is heard just through the crowd, and you see both Delilah and Marcus pushing their way through the throngs of people.

Immediately, you intercept the two children, their parents at your side.

“What’s wrong?” A frown is prominent on Kamille’s face as she picks Delilah up.

“Where’s Minnie?” Trisha is quick to grab ahold of Marcus who clings onto her side.

“That new bakery lady won’t leave Yuyu alone.” Delilah pouts.

“She’s worse than when you and mom start making kissey faces at one another.” Marcus’ nose scrunches in distaste.

“Minnie’s trying to save him, but it’s not working.” Delilah adds.

“I thought Rylie was married.” Kamille says, more to herself than anything.

“I’m sure Yunho can handle a few flirtatious comments sent his way.” Yeosang chuckles. “It’s not like it hasn’t happened before.”

“He popular like that, or something?” Trisha quirks a brow, somewhat teasingly.

“Or something.” Yeosang grumbles.

“Didn’t take you to be one to get jealous,” you hum, and you notice how his cheeks begin to dust pink for the nth time today.

“I’m not jealous.” He grumbles, gaze flicking over to you every now and then.

“Mom!” Delilah whines. “This is serious! Yuyu is in big trouble!”

“We’ll go check it out. Don’t worry.” You assure them.

“Hurry!” Marcus begins to tug Trisha down the street. “There’s bad energy coming from him.”

The three of you share a look.

Almost instantly, you and the two witches take off down the row, pushing your way through the crowd.

“What’s going on?” Yeosang manages to just keep pace with you.

“Marcus can sense shifts in energies, it’s his specialty ever since he was small. If he gets a bad feeling, almost always something bad will happen.” You explain quickly. “Your brother may be in danger.”

Rounding a street corner, the crowd thins slightly. You can see the awning of the bakery in sight, and you hurry your pace, the others following behind.

The bell above the shop door jingles as you six enter the shop. The owner, Nina, sends you a warm smile from her chair behind the counter. Once she adjusts her glasses, she’s offering you a friendly wave in recognition. Age, it seems, is catching up with her.

You have just enough time to wave back before your attention is drawn to the side where you see Yunho backed into a corner, the new girl - Rylie - holding him hostage with her arm beside his shoulder. The way she’s leaning into him, and his stiff demeanour, says it all.

“Mommy!” Winnie scoots out from between them, panic clear on her features.

Kamille is quick to embrace the girl, cooing at her to calm her down.

“Rylie.” Trisha’s stern call of her name has the women sighing dramatically before turning her head slightly in acknowledgement.

Still, she does not move from her position.

“What?” Nothing but irritation lines her voice as her gaze flicks over to your little group.

“Tell her to stop bothering Uncle Yuyu!” Winnie crosses her arms, frown prominent on her features.

Your eyebrows raise slightly at the name she calls him, mirth dancing on your features.

“You heard the little lady.” You address the woman before you, noticing how she purposefully trails her gaze over you in disgust.

“If he wanted me to stop, he would have pushed me away by now.” She retorts, rather pointedly.

“Actually, I’ve been asking you to give me space this whole time-“

“Shhh,” she turns quickly, placing a finger over his lips as she leans into him. “You don’t have to lie to save her pride. I know I’m a better match for you than she is.”

You blink, not being able to keep the appalled expression off of your features. Honestly, you’re more amused than anything, but you contain your laugh of disbelief for now.

You share a look with both Kamille and Trisha. You smirk.

If this is how this woman wants to play, then you’ll gladly succumb to her games.

“What makes you think I enjoy the company of men?” You quirk a brow, beginning to slowly step towards this woman. The way your suddenly hooded gaze remains locked on her has her faltering for a moment. “You caught my eye since I first stepped foot in this little bakery, here.”

“What are you doing?” Her brow furrows, and she takes a step back and away from Yunho as you creep closer.

“It seems to me you enjoy assertive people.” You continue to approach, backing her into the corner and away from Yunho. “I’m just emanating you.”

“Don’t come near me.” She pushes herself against the wall.

You stop in your tracks, leaving a good two feet of distance between your body and hers. You blink at her in curiosity, tilting your head all the same.

“If you wanted me to stop, you would push me away.” You throw her words back at her, making sure never to lay a single finger on her the whole while.

“Just leave me alone.” She spits.

“To be clear, you’re asking me to stop?” You inquire, staring straight into her eyes expectantly.

“Yes!” She hisses. “Do you not understand the word ‘no’?”

Your eyebrows raise, but you remain silent. Your expression says it all.

A scowl is pulling at her features in the next moment as she pushes past you, knocking into your shoulder quite harshly. “Fucking bitch.”

The sound of the bell jingling above the door is the only indication you have that she’s left.

“Oh, I suppose it is time for her break.” Nina hums, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“Seriously, Nina,” Kamille sighs. “You should find better employees.”

The old woman either doesn’t hear her, or chooses not to answer as she begins humming a soft tune to herself.

You shake you head, turning to face Yunho in the next second. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” his reply is somewhat breathless as he stares at you, blinking to clear his vision soon after. He clears his throat, seemingly coming back to reality. “Yeah.”

Winnie immediately runs over to Yunho, grabbing his hand in hers.

“Uncle Yuyu, you promised to buy us flowers!” She begins tugging him towards the entrance.

You quirk a brow, “Upgraded to Uncle now, are you?”

He grins, a red creeping onto his ears. “It was all them.”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Yeosang pouting.

“Hey kids, why don’t you drag Uncle Yeo along with you, too.” The corner of your lips twitch upwards knowingly.

“Okay!” Delilah immediately rushes over to Yeosang, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the door now, too.

“Have fun!” You wave them off, seeing as Marcus now holds the door open for them all.

The moment the door swings shut, the three of you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Crisis averted.” Kamille sighs, sitting herself down in one of the chairs nearest to her.

“Rylie has been a piece of work since she started here last month.” Trisha sits opposite Kamille, you joining them quickly.

“She new to town?” You inquire, noting how quiet the bakery is for a day like today.

“Yeah, her and her husband moved here about two months ago. She’s stirring up trouble wherever she goes, and we usually have to clean up the mess.” Trisha frowns. “Flirts with every male she sees, then usually her husband steps in to ‘defend what’s his’.”

You grimace, “Sounds like they’re both a piece of work.”

“You’re telling us.” Kamille nods. “We’ve had to step in a number of times before things get too out of hand. He’s already received two major warnings.”

“One more and we kick them out of here for good.” Trisha says. “Perks of being the heads of council.”

“You two run this village flawlessly,” you comment. “Of course you have final say. I’m honestly surprised you still let them live here.”

“Who knows, maybe we’ve become too lenient in our old age.” Kamille hums, the three of you sharing a laugh.

A few minutes later, the three of you are sharing a pastry, talking idly as you wait for the kids and the two males to return. The more you converse with your friends, the more your shoulders relax. Though, with the sound of the bell chiming above the door, and the ominous presence you feel entering the bakery, that happiness soon plummets into unease.

“That’s her.” You hear a harsh whisper behind you. “That’s the bitch that touched me.”

You nearly roll your eyes, but at the way the two women in front of you stiffen, you opt to sigh instead.

“Oi, you!” A loud voice draws your attention to the front of the bakery to see a burly man standing there. His arms are crossed as Rylie practically clings to his side, sneering in your direction. “You think you can just go around laying your grubby paws on my wife?”

“Actually, Sir, I never touched your wife.” You reply calmly, resting an arm over the back of your chair as you turn to face him. “It was your wife who continuously threw herself at one of my own friends, even after he repeatedly asked her kindly to stop.”

“So, you’re a fucking bitch and a liar?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Should have expected that from a fat queer such as yourself.”

Your head tilts slowly in understanding. “Do you have more of an issue with me because I’m fat, or because I’m queer?”

“A smartass, too? Damn, I’m going to enjoy knocking your teeth in.” He cracks his knuckles. “No, I have an issue with you. You came onto my wife, and now you’re going to regret it.”

“I have no desire to shatter your already fragile masculinity any further, Sir.” You reply. “I’m sorry you seem to be stuck playing your wife’s desperate, attention seeking games. The two of you should strive to do better.”

“How dare you!” Rylie seethes, but is soon consoled by her husband.

“Shh, Honey, I’ve got this.” He pats her shoulder before rounding on you. His furious expression says it all. “How dare you!”

“Oh, I think we’ve got a pair of parrots on our hands.” Trisha remarks. “Too bad they can’t remember any of the important lessons.”

“Yeah, like ‘final strike and you’re out.’” Kamille hums, shooting the two of them a pointed look.

“Like hell you can kick us out of this town.” The male spits, brow creased as his face begins to turn bright red in anger.

“We can, and we will.” Trisha replies almost instantly, no remorse at all in her tone. “We’ve already warned you sufficiently. Please do not make us mad. You will not like what happens.”

“Are you threatening me?” He straightens, hands balling into fists at his sides.

You stand calmly to your feet, returning the plate to the counter where you see Nina has managed to doze off. Soft snores fall from her lips, and you spare her a small smile before turning to the couple fuming at the doorway.

“Depends,” you hum, leaning back on the counter as your cross your arms over your chest. “Do you feel threatened?”

“By you?” The man scoffs. “Not likely.”

“You should be.” You smile, and you notice them grimace slightly at how unnerving you suddenly look. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, my nieces and nephew are waiting for us to return to the festival.”

Just then, the bell above the door chimes and in walk both Yunho and Yeosang with the children in tow. A white pansy is tucked into Yeosang’s hair, just behind his ear. It seems to have been placed there very carefully so as to display his birthmark, and you just know Minnie probably had something to do with that, seeing as he holds her against his hip. Marcus holds onto Yeosang’s free hand, a yellow daffodil, a pink rose, and a sprig of lilac held in Marcus’ opposite hand. On Yunho’s back rests Delilah, her giggling suddenly cut short as she peeks over his shoulder to observe the tense scene before them.

“Auntie…” Winnie’s worried gaze is suddenly on you, and you notice how Marcus begins to tremble as he looks at the man before him.

“It’s okay, Winnie,” you smile assuringly. “We were just on our way out to meet you when Rylie returned with this fine gentleman here.”

The couple stiffens.

“Bad man.” Marcus begins mumbling, taking a wary step backwards. “You’re a bad man.”

“Don’t worry, Marcus.” You begin to usher both Kamille and Trisha out, you following close behind. “We’re finished here, anyways.”

Marcus immediately clings onto Kamille as she walks passed, Trisha taking Winnie from Yeosang’s hold instantly. You don’t even spare another look at the couple as you exit the bakery, both Yeosang and Yunho observing you carefully.

Only, you don’t manage to get very far outside of the shop.

“Don’t you walk away from me, you bitch.” The man grabs your arm, quite harshly at that.

Two low growls get muffled by the bustling sounds of the festival around you.

“Sir, I recommend you release my arm before you come to regret it.” You state calmly, angling your body away from him as a crowd begins to form around you.

“The only thing I’ll come to regret is not putting your smartass in your place.” He spits, tightening his hold over your arm.

You sigh, shaking your head as you slide you bag off of your opposite arm. “Trish, be a dear and hold my bag.”

Wordlessly, she grabs it from you.

You turn your full attention back to the man in front of you.

“This is your last warning,” you meet his gaze with a dark look of your own and you notice how he falters slightly. “Release me before you lose this hand of yours.”

“Like you could ever harm me.” He guffaws, purposely raising his voice for the now growing crowd.

At the side, both Yunho and Yeosang stand, tense. They can barely keep their eyes from flashing, both males beginning to tremble in rage the longer they observe this scene going on before them.

Faintly, you begin to hear whispers around you, all in defence and worry of you and how often this man seems to pick fights with absolutely anybody.

“I don’t think you’ll enjoy it very much when I knock you flat on your ass.” You comment.

He scoffs, “I’d like to see you try!”

The moment those words are out of his mouth you have him pinned on the ground, a light cloud of dust floating in the air. Your knee digs harshly into the man’s back, his arm twisted unnaturally behind him as you shove his face into the dirt.

Rylie’s hands come up to cover her mouth in shock, a silence settling around the crowd.

“I warned you.” You hum, almost condescendingly at the male beneath you.

A scowl is all you receive in response.

“Normally, I would have broken your hand for touching me, but I think the fact that you’re being kicked out of this village is punishment enough.” You spit quite harshly. “After all, you’ll need all the strength you can get in order to vacate the premises as quickly as possible.”

A moment of silence before a small cheer is erupting from the crowd, murmurs of glee reaching your ears. Many even go so far as to exclaim that this couple’s reign of terror is over.

“You bitch!” Rylie shrieks, running over to attempt to tackle you off of her husband.

Easily, you dodge her, watching as she trips over her husband’s legs and lands in the dirt beside him. Not even a second later, you stand, dusting off your knees all the while.

“Be grateful this is all that you’ve received from me.” You crack your neck, grabbing your bag back from Trisha in one fluid motion. “Now, I don’t want to hear you’ve bothered anyone else ever again, and you better hope I never see your faces around here again. You won’t like what becomes of it, then.”

Slowly, the man pushes himself to his feet, Rylie helping him stand all the while.

“Get back here, cunt!” He bellows, closing the distance between the both of you in a few great bounds and swinging for the back of your head with his fist.

A sickening crunch sounds around the area, followed by a pained filled cry and a high pitched shriek of horror.

Turning reveals Yeosang crushing the man’s fist in his grip, his eyes the darkest you’ve ever seen them before turning their natural gold. A snarl paints his lips as the man desperately attempts to break free from Yeosang’s grip, blood beginning to drip slowly into the dirt at the male’s feet.

“If you ever lay a hand on My Fated again,” Yeosang growls, voice ringing out loud and clear through the deadly silence that now surrounds the area. His eyes flash. “I’ll kill you.”

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gascon-en-exil · 12 days ago

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AO3 Wrapped (Writers' Edition)

Found a list for this here, and following in the vein of a mutual on another platform I thought I'd go ahead and answer all the ones that I can to commemorate my first year as an actual fic author.

1. How many words have you written this year?

209,263...on AO3, anyway. I'm not counting my blog or YouTube scripts for any of this.

2. How many works did you publish this year?

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

Hard to pick. What Burns Between Us kicked everything off and has been the blueprint for all the stories that have followed, but I think I might actually like To Make as Much of Vices as Virtues a bit more. I somehow wrangled an even longer fic laden with flashbacks and relatively dark content out of two NPCs who don't even have official art. Also, because of this fic I can say that I've written the only Papp/Roque smut currently on AO3.

4. What work of yours has the most hits?

What Burns Between Us

5. What work of yours got more feedback than you expected?

To Make as Much of Vices as Virtues, because it's as mentioned such a tiny pairing. A lot of those comments came from just two people, but still.

6. Favorite title you used

Children Believe What We Tell Them is such an ironic twist on a classic film line (in translation, anyway). Given the subject matter of that fic I was tempted to go for a more familiar reference to Disney's Beauty and the Beast, but Cocteau worked a lot better for me in the end.

7. If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most?

I don't, but I do pull titles and original/incidental character names from literary sources: Wilde, Whitman, Chopin, Faulkner, and even Freud among others.

8. Pairing you wrote the most for this year?

Osvald/Partitio, a.k.a. the first of the many ships I've had that managed to inspire me to write fic. I'm still not entirely sure how that happened.

9. Favorite pairing you wrote for this year?

It's either them or Papp/Roque, and while I had to fill in more substantial gaps in canon to flesh out the old man yaoi I do think I'm going to have to say Osvitio again for this one.

10. What work was the quickest to write?

Through the Long Moonlit Night, which I rushed out in roughly ten days to get it done in time for Halloween. That was on me for getting inspired to write a monster fic with less than two weeks to go for it to be timely.

11. What work took you the longest to write?

To Make as Much of Vices as Virtues was around three months total, and it also took more initial planning compared to What Burns Between Us which largely follows the motions of canon.

12. How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year?

Oof, I don't even want to think about it. Eight or ten, at least...including a couple of non-Octopath ideas.

13. What’s your longest work of the year?

To Make as Much of Vices as Virtues, at over 77K words.

14. What’s your shortest work of the year?

Polymorphous Perversity, at just over 6K and my first actual oneshot.

15. What WIP are you taking into next year with you?

I do have both a short Papp/Roque piece as well as my first stab at Temenos/Crick (with Osvitio) in the works that I may or may not finish before the end of the year. The big one in the planning stages currently though involves Osvald trading places with himself in a different universe to explore weird new facets of his character...and also to make Partitio cry some more, because that's what I do.

16. What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag?

Alternate Universe, unsurprisingly. My first fic establishes a partial AU running alongside but still distinct from canon Octopath Traveler II, and all the rest follow it in one way or another.

17. Your favorite character to write this year?

Roque Brilliante, because he's such a humorously terrible person and yet isn't hard to wring pathos out of either because at the end of the day he's a sad old queen who got dumped on so much he decided not to have any morals. He absolutely doesn't deserve the happy ending that the game gives him, and I've kept it that way by never writing a proper redemption arc either...but he has a husband and son who love him in spite of his many, many flaws so he gets that ending anyway.

18. The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year?

Osvald Vanstein, especially for his PoV segment of Wooing That Drifting Imagery. Canon doesn't offer much in the way of post-revenge flaws for him, so coming up with some that both matched his in-game character as well as the time period while also maintaining his relentlessly analytical voice was quite the challenge. I've gotten feedback on how off-putting Osvald's "benevolent" sexism comes across that I have ideas for how to tease at in future fics, so that's good. Additionally, I've received two comments calling my Osvald autistic/autistic-coded which...I guess? That definitely wasn't my intention or even anything I was thinking about. Canon Osvald is coldly rational to a fault and struggles with expressing himself even when he's saving the day with magic laser beams made of the Power of Love, so I just ran with that. (Him having a colossal dick on the other hand is purely for the comedic value.)

19. What’s one pairing you want to explore next year?

I've already mentioned that I want to try out Temenos/Crick for at least one fic. Hikari/Agnea may show up in some of my projects as a background element too. Aside from that, more of the same - although I've always thinking of strange new ways to explore those ships.

20. Which work of yours have you reread the most?

I reread my fics a lot, but proportional to their length I think I've looked back on Wooing That Drifting Imagery the most. It takes a lot of risks on the conceptual level: Partitio in full drag getting some kind of partial gender euphoria, Osvald's PoV, the kinky sex scene that goes sour, the prominence of my OCs.

21. How many kudos in total did you get this year?

148

22. Which work has the most comments?

What Burns Between Us, both in quantity and in number of unique commenters.

23-25.

All regarding collaborations and gifts, N/A

26. What’s your most common category?

Does this mean fandom category? Octopath Traveler II is currently my only category then. That may or may not change next year...although if I do get pestered into writing Fire Emblem fic it's probably not going to be exactly what anyone expects.

27. What do you listen to while writing?

Nothing specific; I'm not a very musically-oriented person. That's the main reason I don't do the whole Spotify Wrapped thing.

28. Favorite work you wrote this year?

Probably Wooing That Drifting Imagery, because of the risk-taking and all the New Orleans references I got to slip in.

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

Hard to pick. Possibly the ending of Chapter 5 of Wooing That Drifting Imagery:

Stepping forward, Partitio places his arms around Osvald’s neck and leans gingerly against the man’s shoulder, careful not to smudge the powder on his face. “What are you doing?” His hands are on Partitio’s waist, but he seems unsure. “Only…seein’ what it feels like to hug my husband.” Above him, Osvald’s breath catches. He wonders if they’re feeling the same thing. Partitio closes his eyes and inhales deeply. There are memories of sweat and dirt and darkness and the shame of need, of clinging to a muzzled prisoner with fire in his eyes and heart for protection from the unrelenting elements and the cruelty of man. Those memories are set aside – not wholly out of sight, but off in a corner. In their place emerges not one of Shrevelin’s fabrications, but something else both new and strangely familiar. There’s Osvald and his solid, gentlemanly warmth, and the faint fragrance of springtime that enfolds them, and the layers of fabric that separate them solely as a matter of modesty and not of the scorn of the world. Perhaps, when it’s only the two of them in this moment – which will fade like sunlight vanishing behind the trees into dusk, but linger still in the mind – he can be she. Osvald is her husband. She is his wife. “I’m ready.” Osvald takes up his hat and his cane, and offers his arm. Together, they stroll into the New Delsta sunset.

I liked writing this subtle transition where Partitio "sets aside" the memories of the start of his relationship with Osvald, internalizes the Mrs. Vanstein role to match how he's currently dressed as a society wife, and starts using feminine pronouns for himself...even if it's dropped several sentences into the next chapter out of anxiety over being in public. This is also the first time that Partitio refers to Osvald as his husband, when both of them had rejected marital labels for each other in the previous fic specifically because they're firmly stuck in the heteronormative mindset that they can't marry because Partitio isn't a woman. Well, now he sort of is.

30. Biggest surprise while writing this year?

That I wrote fic at all? If not that, then how well my fics have been received in this corner of an already small fandom. I love getting to read comments and bookmark notes and so forth saying how much people like my writing even though I'm still technically an amateur.

#Octopath Traveler II #Osvald/Partitio #Osvald V. Vanstein #Partitio Yellowil #My fics

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asleepinawell · 2 years ago

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while they've definitely improved some of that, the npcs will always run to the middle for that particular stack in holminster (similar situation with the armadillo in malikah's well). I suspect it's to prevent them from dropping the aoe puddle in the middle of the safe area since it would then be harder to program the AI to avoid that during the next part but idk. by comparison, they do come to you for the line stack in the last boss and in some other places. I'm not sure what the logic was in the hydaelyn fight because I rage quit after that since urianger had already murdered me and I didn't want to start over

and speaking of that armadillo boss, it does a proximity mine in the center followed by a donut aoe. so you need to get out to the edge until the proximity goes off and then in to the center get out of the donut one. the scions will always run into the center before the proximity goes off. it doesn't seem to be that big a problem except sometimes the healer will run directly on top of the proximity and instantly die. I've had urianger do this 3-4 times now. I just know to bring alisaie along now if I don't have a rez myself

in general, learning the scion AI behaviors in trusts is kinda like keeping track of another mechanic since in a lot of instances they're programmed to go to one specific place. for the second boss in vanaspati they all seem to have a set water bubble to run to and will get hit if you take their bubble

despite that, I do like that the supports/trusts let you follow the scions around to learn mechanics and I think it's great for people who are nervous about doing something new with other people and messing it up (like me!), but there's definitely some fun quirks you need to get used to. like the fact they'll often stand exactly one pixel outside of an attack so if you're following them and aren't directly on top of them you may still get hit 😔

though the flip side of that is that sometimes I simply do not learn the mechanics. ktisis hyberboreia is one I run exclusively in support (love the elpis squad) unless I'm playing with someone else and the first time I went in with real people I realized I had no clue how the snake man's head attacks worked because I usually just followed venat around like a lost baby bird. also everyone went to a different spot for the cross line aoes and I was Distressed™ because I was so used to where the npcs went

ALSO (minor 6.3 dungeon spoilers will try to leave vague) in the latest dungeon, on the last boss, there's a super confusing bunch of line and circle aoes that vanish before they go off and the scions will sometimes just go stand directly in one and fuck you over. thanks team!!!!

and then there's the thing where I swear sometimes urianger will get an aoe spread and just run full speed right at me. that guy. but really it's mostly that the npcs are programmed to go to a specific location with those and once you know it's not a big deal but man it can lead to some hilarious disasters

the funniest moment I ever had in a trust was in the hydaelyn fight when I got a stack marker and all the scions came running over to me and then. then. at the very last second every single one of them ran out from under the stack to group in the middle (AI anticipating the next attack I presume) and the stack went off .0001 seconds after they ABANDONED me before I could catch up and the wol's mom resundered the shit out of my poor lizard boy. the sheer and utter betrayal of that moment. exquisite. hydaelyn was like yeah you guys should probably just get on the moon ship and gtfo

#the tanking and healing seems pretty solid now though #I only started playing after ew so I missed the early days and I'd bet it's been improved from when they first rolled out #for the shb and ew dungeons you can safely force a double pull on the tank with an ai healer and be fine #would not recommend this for the arr supports oof #also I think thancred is just a better tank than g'raha which I guess makes sense #I almost exclusively use thancred #oh and some of the scions have specific behavior based on their characters #alphinaud will always prioritize healing alisaie if she's hurt #alisaie and estinien will use lbs immediately #thancred gets a damage bonus if ryne is in the party #oh and hades is also a very good tank you can double pull on #it is possible to force him to invuln if you're the healer as my friend tested on day in the name of bullying that old man #his invuln is called katabasis which is a trip to the underworld in ancient greek mythology #the greek underworld which is also known as....hades #devs must have had a great time with that one lolol #ffxivmp #mp #also I should add that I have done every leveling support A LOT #it was one of the primary ways I got all the jobs to 90 #by this point I just know most of the ai behavior and adjust for it without thinking #oh and another custom character behavior I just remembered #in the hw dungeons estinien is way more reckless and aggressive and will pull ahead of the tank and stand in aoes #very in character for that point in the story #my biggest wish for trusts is that they added the ancients to the ew trusts #listen listen I know it makes no sense but half the trust options already don't make sense #you can take the scions to ktisis I mean #it would just make me happy and also alt outfits!#gimme venat in plate mail and hyth in the ew brd job gear #hades can have..uh...ascian robe and solus outfit that would be funny and fucked up #okay I'm out of tag space and done now

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jrooc · 9 months ago

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✨Weekly Tag Wednesday!✨

Oh hi! It’s another tag game. Thanks for the tags @mybrainismelted @ian-galagher @creepkinginc @darlingian @juliakayyy @sgtmickeyslaughter

how is your day going? Long but it’s been a good one.

are you okay? Lol no. My life’s a mess.

what is your favourite shade of your favourite colour? Green probably a teal, a pine or an Persian?

are you single? Nope. I’m married.

are you happy about that? Big questions today Chani! Yeah I am most days. But I’m a very independent person so I wish I could be single when I wanted. Like could I be married for 6 months out of the year? Could I have days of the week off? Relationships are hard, man.

what age do you feel in your brain? Still 30 maybe? Although that was an awful year for me. So maybe 31.

do you feel like the good times are behind you or ahead of you? JFC there better be some to come cause life is long and things are hard

do you have a best friend? I have 2

did you have a childhood pet? Yes! We had a dog and a few cats.

do you sing or whistle around the house? I can’t whistle. I can’t sing either but it doesn’t always stop me.

do you light candles or incense? Candles sometimes

are you busy Friday night? My neighbor might swing by for a glass of wine but that sounds like a lot. I already want to cancel and just read fics

if you were a circus performer which act would you be in? Haha you’ve clearly never seen how uncoordinated I am

what is your favourite outfit? Ripped jeans, black tank top and a cute jacket

what's the last thing you created? I’ve spent this whole week writing. Working on my GGE and the next lightning chapter

what is your favourite fic or book of all time? Oof. Impossible questions but book.. it used to be Oryx and Crake. But it’s probably Station Eleven or Sea of Tranquility by Emily St. John Mandel.

Fics… there’s a lot but my all time love is Old Rules for New Side Pieces by @goodkwuestion

what are you looking forward to? Some friend plans this summer probably. Cycling outdoors

what can put you immediately in a better mood? Fanfiction and our little Community

do you like hugs? Sometimes. I’m awkward about them unless it’s genuine and the right moment.

what is something you wish people understood about you? I’m always sarcastic. I swear a lot and I can be a dick sometimes. I come across a little hard around the edges but I’m actually pretty soft.

Tagging @such-a-barbarian @ms-moonlight-inn @bellezabelize @doshiart @transmurderbug @transmickey @rayrayor @heymrspatel @deedala @stocious @solitarycreaturesthey @francesrose3 @mickeysgaymom @gallavichsuperfan @suzy-queued

#tag you're it #gallavich #gallavich community

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that-was-anticlimactic · 8 months ago

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you get it so much i could genuinely spend hours talking about bakugo and midoriya’s characters and their development and how genuinely well written they are and then an exploration of their dynamic on top of that and why it’s one of the best in media atm AND I MEAN THAT but people are so busy tripping over themselves to be like ‘UHHH ☝🏼😂 MHA IS CRINGE’ or the fans themselves absolutely butchering the characters (bakugo in particular is like a toxic wasteland now do not approach do not stop within a 10 mile radius etc) that it’s pointless and it makes me so MADDDD anyway hiiii corey i put mha in ur inbox do u still think im hot

YES YES YES!!! EXACTLY HELLA!!!

and like... as far as midoriya and bakugou are concerned, they're like... forced into almost Every fic i read :/ like i'm out here looking for class a being a family fics without midoriya or bakugou trauma or hero worship is that SO MUCH TO ASK!!! i'll be under the denki-centric tag bc he's my special lil boy and like bakugou being in most of them i Get bc of the bakusquad bUT like denki is Also Smart and, imo, understand his quirk better than midoriya, so why do we need to force midoriya in there to explain how denki's quirk works tO HIM??? or like. people will bring up midoriya's past in like every fic that isn't about him or bakugou's kidnapping (which like fair ik that was traumatic for literally everyone but i'm not looking for balugou fics) and i'm just. i want sero hanta fics. not sero is worried about midoriya fics.

oof okay i have a lot to say apparently. am a lil bitter bc my favorite characters are denki, sero, kodai, and ojirou (and the bakusquad like i LOVE kiri) and finding they centric fics without just... let's talk about bakugou and midoiya is HARD they have PLENTY of they centric fics!!! i don;t mind them Being in other fics, but like... do we Haveto mention how amazing and special they are in Every Fic??? like... they're not the only ones who work hard and made it into class a??? so did literally everyone else??? midoriya isn't the only one who was bullied or gets anxious sometimes (and people make him like... weirdly anxious too like must protect him and i'm just... ugh) and midoriya isn't the only sunshine in class a (horikoshi literally said that denki is the glue that holds the class together but, no, everyne go ahead and make it mido...) and bakugou isn't the only one who's experienced something traumatic nor is he the only one who cares about others but is bad at showing it. and they aren't the only contenders for #1 hero and anyone in class a could beat them in a spar like... i don't think they're unbeatable??? denki could beat them. ojirou could beat them. satou could beat them. shouji. hagakure. kouda. aoyama. sero. mina. jirou. the list goes on. and they could beat all the people i just listed any day too!!! it just... it doesn't always have to be like "gosh i'll never be a hero like deku" like??? you got in the Same class he did.

ahem. anyways. uhhhhhh i LOVE midoriya and bakugou. hate the way fans act like they're the only characters that matter. yes this angry rant is bc i was looking for denki centric fics the other day and most of them were more midoriya centric even though that wasn't tagged and denki centric was. when you're reading a fic about the trauma of someone other than mido and baku and then one of them has to take over and be like "listen to My trauma" and suddenly it's aboyt THem.

oKAY DONE FOR REAL

anyways hella i still think you're hot in fact i think it makes you Even Hotter

(also no shame i literally made the password to last week's vocab quiz "SERO HANTA" like in all caps bc of the leaks and bc i love him.)

sorry about the angry rant about the two main characters do you still think i'm hot-

#hella tag #this was therapeutic thank you #literally everything you said!!!#i just hate the ways fans act about them UGH. and also ugh ik they're the main characters but it still sucks that like every major battle i #surrounding them. like i get it. i do. but it's Always Them. we've seen that!!! i wanna see a big satou vs villain! or sero or denki or #ojirou or hagakure or jirou or... etc...#and ik they all play roles in the final battle or whatever but no like. i want them to be the star of the Main Big Battle but i get that #midoriya is the main character and baku is the second and symbolism and stuff - just sucks having side characters as your favorites iuygtft #oKAY DONE FR #and pls no one take this the wrong way! i love mido and baku! like i genuinely do! i just don't think they need to be forced into everythin #especially when it's about another character and they're trauma or mental health. there are other people in class who care about them and #those two aren't the onlt observant or self-acrifical people in class #oKAY UGH FR DONE NOW I HAVE FEELINGS HELLA IUHGFGYHUJI #also tape is the best quirk and denki's quirk has the most drawbacks in this essay i will-#(by most drawbacks i don't mean he sucks but like... i don't think people take how dangerous his quirk is seriously or how it affects him)#corey rambles:)

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peskellence · 1 year ago

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Pairing: RK900/Gavin Reed

Tags: Post Pacifist Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Masterlist

Read on AO3 here:

Summary: A lot has changed since the revolution. Crimes against androids are now punished in the same way as crimes against humans. A reluctant Gavin Reed and his new partner RK900 have been assigned to investigate a string of disturbing murders. Despite the shift in Detroit's social climate, Gavin still holds reservations about whether or not androids are truly alive. Will his developing feelings for 'Nines' be the thing to change this?

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Depression/Self Destructive Behaviour, Eventual Smut

Word Count: 3K

*Hey, this is Finn Treacher's voicemail. Either I've got a hot date, or I’m working for a change. Leave a message*

Gavin put down the phone, moving to the next number on his list. After several hours, the monotony of the task was beginning to drain him. His focus waned as his mind drifted to other, more personal concerns.

*You've reached the voicemail of Gideon Heith. Call back when I'm home.*

He'd spoken with several possible leads, but none had been overly promising. Some had vehemently denied their involvement in any criminal activity - refusing to cooperate and hanging up on him. Others had been surprisingly cooperative, but with no prior offences or convictions, Gavin doubted they could be linked to the case.

*Frank here. If you want to leave a message, go ahead, but I ain't gonna listen*

He could only pray that one of their otherwise innocuous leads might be able to point them in the right direction.

*...Hello?*

Thank God - "Hi, this is Detective Gavin Reed, Detroit Police Department. We wondered if you might be able to come in to answer a few questions."

*...Hello? Is anyone there?*

"Gavin Reed. Detroit Police", he repeated, a little louder this time. "We wanted to ask you some questions about -"

*Ha, I'm just messing with you, buddy. Leave a message after the tone*.

The detective held his breath, grip tightening on the phone, before hanging it up in aggravation. He allowed his body to slump forward and let out a dismaying groan. Trapped in his funk, he failed to notice the soft footsteps approaching from behind. His shoulders were then grabbed by a pair of firm, slender hands. A set of lips drew closer to his ear before exclaiming a thunderous "Boo!."

Gavin flinched, albeit for no other reason other than the noise. He lifted his head to stare morosely at the would-be assailant, "Go away, Ti. I'm busy."

The officer whistled at the icy reception. "Oof, someone's touchy today." Standing reclined against the desk, she leant forward for a closer examination of her friend. "Looks like you could do with a break - or three. When was the last time you slept?"

"Last night. In my bed."

"Not buying it", Tina shamelessly prodded underneath his eyes, tutting disapprovingly as she did, "You've got more bags than an airport conveyor belt."

"Was there any purpose to your visit today? Or do you just take joy in pissing me off?"

"A little bit of both" She grinned before pulling up an available chair. "I just wanted to see how you were getting on. Seems like an interesting case."

"Interesting is not how I'd describe it. 'Bane of my existence' is more like it."

"You've got a lot of leads, at least" Tina said, glancing down at the paper on the desk. "Something's got to come out of one of them."

"Easy for you to say. I've been stuck at this desk for three fucking hours, and all I've got to show for it is a headache."

"Would it not be quicker for Nines to help you? Pretty sure he could just upload the numbers and call them all simultaneously."

Gavin sneered resentfully, "Yeah, that'd be much easier. If the plastic prick hadn't gone a-wall."

Tina, who had picked up a pen and began clicking it absentmindedly, promptly stopped. "...Nines? Really?"

"Yes, really."

"The same Nines that does overtime every day? The one whose idea of a 'break' is to deep clean the canteen?"

"I can't see any android detectives skulking around. Can you?"

Ignoring his friend's bewildered expression, the detective reluctantly picked up the list and typed in the next number. He waited fractiously as the dial tone rang - until a crisp voice eagerly informed him that he had reached another voicemail. Having reached the limits of his already tenuous patience, he shoved the phone back on its dock.

"It seems a bit unusual", Tina pondered, rubbing at her neck. "Are you sure you didn't do anything to upset him?"

"Why do you always assume it's my fault?" Gavin complained, "It's been acting weird since yesterday. Ever since I told it that it couldn't come over for a goddamn sleepover."

Tina was clearly intrigued by this, as her eyes sparkled with excitement. Leaning forward on her hands, she batted her eyelashes teasingly. "In what context would you be having a sleepover? Gavin Reed, you sly dog."

" Don't - it's nothing like that", he responded firmly. "I told it about the Tiff thing, and now it's decided it wants to appoint itself as my live-in cat sitter. It's weird."

"He can see that you're struggling, and he's trying to help. What's so weird about that? Besides, it seems like a good idea."

Gavin hated to admit that there was some truth in that statement. While strange and unwanted, Nines' suggestion was based on reasonably solid logic. Given the redundancy of sleep, it did make sense that the android would be a prime candidate to monitor things overnight. Still, the offer did not infer anything more than a methodic calculation.

"Let's not delude ourselves that an android is capable of empathy. It wouldn't be offering if it didn't think it could get something out of it."

Tina chuckled. "You're such a pessimist. He would get something out of it. The satisfaction of helping a friend."

The detective bristled at the suggestion. Friendship implied a level of closeness that he shared with very few. An android was hardly top of the list. Besides, Nines itself had expressed its own opposition to the sentiment.

"Right, I'm done here." Gavin pushed himself up from his desk with a low grunt, "Getting some lunch. Wanna come with?"

Before Tina could respond, the walkie-talkie in her belt crackled to life, accompanied by a muffled voice.

*All Central Units respond: 1200 in progress at 245 New Street. Shots fired, 10-13 requesting backup. Repeat, 1200 at 245 New Street, requesting backup. Over*

Tina brought the device to her lips, acknowledging the dispatcher, "Badge number 5195 10-19 to 245 New Street." She looked back to Gavin and shrugged her shoulders in apology. "Sorry, I gotta go."

"Fine, fuck off then", he retorted, gesturing his hand in a dismissive motion, "Didn't want you to come, anyway. Was just being polite."

"Love you too", she winked playfully before making a swift beeline for the exit. Gavin readied himself to leave as well before hesitating momentarily.

He wondered if he ought to find Nines, at least to tell it that he was stepping out. He dismissed the notion, however, rationalising that the android had made zero effort to inform him of his whereabouts - and it was only fair that he should return the favour.

While adopting a steady speed out of the station, Gavin was quickly swept up by the wave of hurried pedestrians. He struggled to match pace, not wanting to cause an obstruction, but feeling as though his legs may give out at any moment. In search of a detour, he turned off at the end of the street and towards the entrance of a nearby park. It would add significant time to his journey, but the reduced crowding and access to benches more than made up for that.

The walk was calm this time of year, without boisterous families or noisy wildlife to disturb the peace. The expanse of bare, leafless foliage seemed to sparkle in the sun as the rays bounced off films of sleet.

It could have been his favourite season - Winter - if it wasn't for the damn cold.

Gavin hardly noticed the time that had passed. Before he knew it, he had arrived at his usual pitstop. Gary greeted him warmly, pulling his attention away from the TV he had mounted on the wall of his van. "Afternoon, Detective. Didn't bring your scary friend with you today?"

Any modicum of a good mood he had gained during his walk vanished immediately. He was beginning to develop an impassioned hatred for that particular word.

"Not my friend. Work partner," he said, promptly changing the subject. "I'll have the usual, but can you throw in a XL soda? And a packet of Twizzlers. I need the sugar."

"Coming right up" Gary turned away to prepare the order as Gavin idled in place, curiously watching the horse race being broadcasted on the large plasma screen.

"Nice TV. Where'd you get it?"

The other man beamed at the question, puffing out his chest. "Won big on the last race. £4k win on a £40 bet,." He leant over his shoulder, flashing Gavin a sly wink. "Probably shouldn't tell a cop this...but I've got a guy. Sixth sense for winners if you know what I mean. You want in?"

Gavin propped an elbow onto the counter, resting his head in his hand. "Can't be taking chances. I'm broke enough as it is. 'Bout to be a lot more broke. My cat is having babies."

"Ouch", The vendor flipped up a burger from the greasy stove, dropping it haphazardly into a bun. "Just wait until you start having actual babies. That shit is really expensive."

"Don't think I'm in much danger of that, but thanks."

"Hey, don't worry about it. Good-looking guy with a steady job? I'm sure you'll find a lady eventually."

Paying for his food, Gavin exhausted the mental checklist of all the possible things he could say. Some responses were harsh and scathing, others intended to confuse and mystify.

"That'd be a first", he muttered vaguely, not feeling up to the argument.

As Gary slid him his tray, he briskly snatched it up and left to find a table. He hadn't been walking for long when he felt his legs starting to buckle. Physical exhaustion had gotten the better of him as he began to tip backwards, head spinning. A pair of hands shot out to support him, holding him steady by the armpits.

"Whoa there, you okay?"

The gruff voice was all-too-familiar, and Gavin felt himself wither in annoyance. Just what he needed. Hank-fucking-Anderson and his plastic golden child. When he turned, however, he was surprised to see that the Lieutenant was standing alone.

"Jeez, Reed." He whistled, giving Gavin a similar look to the one Tina had bestowed earlier. "Party a little too hard last night?"

I wish.

"I'm fine. Let me go."

"Sure you are", Hank drawled, subtly shaking his head. "I couldn't help but overhear that you've got pet troubles? Glad I got Sumo fixed when I did. No chance of any whoopsies with his lucky lady friends."

"Do you make a habit of listening in on other people's conversations?" Gavin pulled himself away, smoothing out his jacket. "Didn't realise you were so nosy. Thought that was Connor's department."

"Hey, I was sittin' 10 feet away from you. There wasn't much I could do about that," Hank gestured to the empty seat at the end of his table. "Now, pull up a chair before you pass out. Because I'm not doing mouth-to-mouth if you croak."

"Good. I'd rather you leave me to die", Gavin said, nose wrinkled with disgust. With seldom energy to continue standing, much less walk to another table, He reluctantly took the seat. Hank mirrored the action, sitting down opposite him to continue his lunch.

"If I'd known it would cause me this much grief, I would have had the bitch spayed" Gavin shoved a handful of fries into his mouth as he muttered quiet complaints, "She's an indoor cat from now until forever."

"Kinda played yourself there, didn't ya? I'm sure Nines would be willing to help if you asked. He's pretty good with animals ."

Gavin let out a grunt of displeasure, almost choking as he did. "Is there some fucking conspiracy here that I don't know about? I already told it myself: 'No'. I don't need to be taken care of. I'm managing just fine."

"Yeah, you seem to be thriving. Seriously though, you're refusing his help because...?"

"Because it's a smug, insufferable asshole."

"Huh", Hank said, mouth agape. "Funny. Connor seemed to think you two were turning a corner."

"Connor thought wrong", he snapped back. "Where is he anyway? You usually keep him on a pretty short leash."

"Hey, watch it", the older man warned. "The kid can go wherever he wants. I don't own him."

"Could've fooled me." Gavin grimaced before shoving more food in his mouth. "So what, he and Nines have mother's meetings about what a dick I am?"

"Cool it, Reed. I promise that Nines only ever has good things to say about you."

"Bullshit."

Hank chuckled under his breath, stirring the ice in his now-finished drink. "Well, yeah, at first, it weren't exactly glowing praise. He thought you were a complete jackass. Over time, though, it changed."

Gavin piqued up at this, "What do you mean 'changed'?"

"Ehh, he's found it difficult - the whole deviancy thing. Connor and I have tried to help, but it's hard to get through... with you, it's different. He seems different. Almost like he finds you comforting'."

"What about me could it possibly find comforting?"

"Hell if I know", Hank grumbled back, frowning in disapproval. "I just think he feels like you 'get it' more than we do. Sure, we've been through it, but sometimes it's nice to meet someone who's in the same place. Helps build a connection."

Pausing mid-chew, Gavin's attention snapped to Hank as his mind began to race. He should have known the damn machine wouldn't be able to keep its mouth shut. About his dad, his home life, his shitty family - "How much has it said about me?"

"There it is again", the Lieutenant sighed, leaning back in his chair. "He hasn't said anything , at least not to me. I just figured there's gotta be something to account for that charming personality of yours."

"Mind your own business, Grandpa."

"Or you're just a prick. What do I know?"

There was a moment of silence as Gavin processed what the other had just said. Did Nines really think that the two of them shared some weird, fucked-up connection?

No, of course not. Anderson had gone soft and was starting to project emotions onto machines. That was all - the naive bastard.

"So what about Connor then?" Gavin pressed, leaning forward on his chair. "What have they been talking about?"

"They don't talk so much as they do that interface thing. Their minds connect, and they communicate through feelings and memories. It's sort of beautiful, in a weird sci-fi way."

"Well, if they could keep me out of their demented mild melds, that would be great. Thanks."

"Okay, I think I've reached my Reed limit for the day", The Lieutenant stood up with a sigh, dusting the crumbs off his slacks, "I'm done, and it looks like you are too. Wanna lift back to the station?"

Gavin looked down at his tray, horrified (and somewhat impressed) to see that he had, in fact, cleared his meal in the few minutes they had been talking. Save for the Twizzlers and a few sips of soda. Pocketing the candy, he stood up, stretching his back. "Yeah, sure. Lead the way."

As the two re-entered the station, the first thing that caught Gavin's eye was a pair of near-identical androids standing by his desk. Their hands were pressed palm-to-palm, and the skin retracted. They stared at each other, saying nothing, but their LEDs lit up in a frenzied light show. Eventually, one of their heads turned and caught a glimpse of the human officers standing at the doorway.

Connor was the one who had spotted them, as well as being the first to move his hand. He smiled warmly at Hank and Gavin - but with a particular focus on the latter. "Detective Reed", he said smoothly, striding towards him with an apparent purpose. "I was wondering if we could have a word."

Nines appeared horrified at the sudden development, its LED shifting to red as it followed quickly behind. "RK800, that won't be necessary."

"It will only take a moment."

"Connor", Hank said firmly, narrowing his eyes at his partner. "What the hell are you doing?"

The android appeared a little put out by the sudden address, ceasing his advance on Gavin as his confident smile began to drop. "Nothing, I was just seeing if I may be of assistance to -"

Hank held up a hand, cutting him off. "I think it's probably best if we leave Gavin and Nines to it. Don'tcha agree?"

Connor paused, his cheeks tinged blue with embarrassment. He shuffled on the balls of his feet for a while, appearing conflicted, before slowly nodding his head "Okay, Hank."

As quickly as the bizarre interaction had commenced, it had ended. Connor, guided by Hank, quietly shuffled off to his desk, and the tension left in their wake was almost suffocating.

Gavin gawked at his partner, waiting for it to speak. "What the hell was that all about?"

"It's not important," Nines said back quickly, although the vibrant crimson that illuminated its temple told a different story. "RK800 worries for me. Unnecessarily."

"And what would he need to be worried about?"

"As I said, it's not important."

Gavin grumbled, quickly losing patience and interest. "Whatever. I've started on the numbers on that list we got from CyberLife, but nothing promising yet. Sure would help if I had a supercomputer who could make the calls for me."

"I see, of course." The tone was cold and overly formal, even by the android's usual standards. Its movements were stiff as if concealing some hidden shame or disappointment. Stirring something unpleasant within Gavin, he felt the resolve he had been trying to maintain slowly melt away.

"...Look, I've been thinking -"

Apparently, he was the naive bastard.

"- about your offer to look after Tiff. I could use the sleep, so if you wanted to help out a bit, I guess that would be okay."

Nines looked entirely floored by this. Its usually steely eyes blown to almost comedic proportions "Detective?"

"I'm saying you can stay the night. Asshole."

#dbh #reed900 #dbh fanfiction #dbh gavin #dbh nines #dbh fanfic #dbh rk900 #detroit become human #gavin reed x rk900 #gavin900 #g9 #dbh fic #gavin x rk900 #dbh gavin reed

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