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#There are a LOT of problems with fanfic but they mostly have to do with people focusing on derivative work at the expense of
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Going to forever keep advertising my shit with tropes because do I have to? No. Am I too "stupid" to do it another way? No, not really. And as you've all seen, I also am perfectly capable of writing real blurbs and do write real blurbs. But I think it's fun to make the pic with the tropes anyway and have that around too. And also it keeps the pretentious people away. The sort who don't understand reading is not always for taking a "discomfort" vitamin because they A) are privileged enough to not have discomfort every day of their life to need to escape from or B) are fresh out of college and haven't discovered the joys of/have been shamed OUT of reading as a fun low pressure thing they can do to escape when they're fucking tired (and they think this sort of thing is new with fanfic and not more or less how "trash" lit like romance novels are marketed), as opposed to reading as some sort of Moral Duty To Be Deep that was instilled in them by a middle aged straight white English professor who thinks one can fulfill this by writing 10 pages about books where people scream at each other, have affairs with young women, or Make Up A Guy to warn people about things that Could Happen (that *cough* already happen to marginalized people *cough*) Anyway it's my version of a scarecrow. Firing shots to keep the rent low. Come take a seat next to me in the dumpster my fellow raccoons.
#Doing this for music of my heart for one day when I cram it all into a delicious tropey collection#God the only thing I hate about this post though is how the length of that sentence reminds me of Charles Dickens I fuckin hate that guy#I love being a shallow gremlin it's part of my brand#I jest but tbh I just am so over that stuff#It's another version of trashing romance novels or pop music or whatever to feel deep#Like if you were really deep#You would conceive of the breadth of humanity - only a fraction of which is inherently graspable by you on a deeper level#You would conceive of the fact that the experiences of the collective of humanity amount to 8 billion inner universes#You would conceive of how the ultimate 'depth' is accepting that you will only ever dip your finger into the surface of the lake#Of human experience#And that nothing hints at the existence of this lake more than someone being able to take joy in or find value#In something which you are fundamentally incapable of inherently ascribing value to - a truth that there's absolutely no fault in#aside from the fault of believing a value is universal because you possess it#This is also sort of like that thing where I talk like a caffienated teenager in a 2003 deviant art forum#But I can whip out the 'correct' grammar and spelling as needed to shut someone up who's being needlessly pretentious#I know this will get no notes and you'll think me a fool shooting myself in the foot but I really don't care#1) I have a day job so I can afford all the attitude I want#And 2) I feel like the people who like my stuff get it....and that's fine with me#if my friends and regulars like things that's good enough for me#Also sorry while we're at it we should probably talk about how thinking fanfic is inherently stupid#Or not a valuable form of reading material#Is deeply linked with homophobia and misogyny#There are a LOT of problems with fanfic but they mostly have to do with people focusing on derivative work at the expense of#Indie creators getting attention for original work that doesn't benefit from a corporations' billions of dollars of marketing
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unopenablebox · 7 months
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yuletide discord server is really not succeeding at feeding me [social writing activity emotion that leads me to write] and i am instead wasting hours on [nonendorsed fic community server/archives] and it is making me irritable and also causing me to write using weird syntax as displayed here and i had like six hours to write my evil yuletide fic and didn't >:(
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woodland-gremlin · 18 days
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Summoning Your Secret Boyfriend Pt. 3
This post is dedicated @fanfics-or-dragons who wrote part of the post. I will put their part in bold. I would suggest checking them out, they write some really interesting stuff.
First Previous AU Summary
“Because it is!” Constantine screams, “They literally say ‘hi’ by fighting each other. Not to mention even if they don’t try to purposely hurt you they often do due to how fragile we are compared to them. Even their weakest would be a challenge to our heavy hitters!”
Constatine tried to take a deep breath to calm down. The kids were obviously alive so they obviously haven't pissed anything off too badly over there. If anything they might have gained favor with something from there. "Kids you may have not bungled whatever the hell you got up to but I seriously doubt you understand the ramifications that can happen when you form ANY type of relationship with beings so powerful you can't comprehend it."
Constatine was actually feeling like the sheer dred was fading and that he could handle this, and then Superman had to butt in to defend his kid. "The kids obviously have not been keeping us informed of their actions as much as they should have, and that will be being addressed Supernova. But they obviously have not gotten themselves into too much trouble with how you describe the beings from this realm. And you are one to talk about dangerous relationships with more powerful beings. The team has hardly had the type of relationships you tend to favor."
Which would have been annoying enough if it wasn't followed by the robin kid bursting out laughing and falling to the ground. Looking directly at Supernova, who was suddenly looking at the ground and bursting out into more laughter. He doesn’t get paid enough to deal with this let alone teenagers.
While Constantine was reenacting the scene from the office, Supernova and Red Robin worked on controlling their laughter.
“It was from when Batman was stuck in the time stream,” Red Robin stated through his muffled laughs.
All eyes turned to focus on Red Robin the moment those words came out of his mouth. The mood turned from slightly light hearted to sullen in a moment. Most members looked like they were sucking on a lemon, remembering how they called him crazy for thinking that Batman was alive. The look in their eyes as they agreed that he lost his mind in grief was always in the back of his mind. Reminding him to be careful with who he trusted and how small that number now was. It was why he liked rubbing it in their faces that he was right, no matter how childish the action was.
“The time stream,” Red Robin continued getting up from the floor, “is a part of the realms. Batman being there was causing them a bunch of problems so they were pretty happy to hand him over after we fixed the problems his presence caused.”
“Yeah,” Supernova chimed in, “and one of their citizens that was fixing the disturbances in the time stream talked about the rules and how Batman was breaking them while they helped us hold up our part of the deal.”
Which was partly true. It was mostly Danny complaining about how much trouble the Justice League causes him and with mentions of laws he needs to study up for his coronation. Apparently every new King throws out the previous ruler’s laws and makes new ones. He decided he would instead use old laws as a framework and make them fairer. They spent a lot of time with him working on them so they have the best understanding of the laws now that their boyfriend is King.
Even without mentioning that Constantine turned from his calmer state into looking half-dead again.
“So let me get this straight,” the con man said while he rubbed the bridge of his nose, “For fixing the disturbances in the time stream that Batman caused, they returned him?”
“Yeah.” “Basically.”
“And you never thought to mention that to anyone?!”
To be continued . . .
Next
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elfwreck · 29 days
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I have a friend who isn't anti-porn but it makes her sad that fanfic has a reputation for being porny and usually not very good. I'm fine with both those things and my views mostly align with that of AO3. I disagree with the idea that porn and badness are treated as equivalent, but for most people that's just how they think. But I was wondering if youve ever written something about this?
There is a lot of smut at AO3.
There is a lot of bad writing at AO3.
There's a lot of badly written smut at AO3.
...None of those are problems except for the people who think there is something wrong with those existing, or that there needs to be some external value that "balances" those that make those acceptable to exist as unwanted side-effects of "the good stuff."
The badly-written smut is also "the good stuff."
It's part of the reason AO3 exists. It's not intended to be an archive for "the high-quality fanfic that could be published if it weren't about characters that someone else wrote first"; it's an archive for "what fanfic writers want to write." That makes the terrible writing and the tacky porn and the badly-written tacky porn part of the reason the archive exists.
Tangent 1 (I'll connect these points later): Theodore Sturgeon said "90% of everything is crud." He was more-or-less referring to the science fiction field in the 50s, but it definitely extended to politics, business, and writing outside of science fiction.
...He was talking about published books in the 50s. Turns out, a lot more than 90% of writing is crud when there aren't any gatekeepers between it and the readers. But also:
Tangent 2, from the book "Art and Fear":
[A] ceramics teacher announced on opening day that he was dividing the class into two groups. All those on the left side of the studio, he said, would be graded solely on the quantity of work they produced, all those on the right solely on its quality. His procedure was simple: on the final day of class he would bring in his bathroom scales and weigh the work of the “quantity” group: fifty pound of pots rated an “A”, forty pounds a “B”, and so on. Those being graded on “quality”, however, needed to produce only one pot — albeit a perfect one — to get an “A”. Well, came grading time and a curious fact emerged: the works of highest quality were all produced by the group being graded for quantity. It seems that while the “quantity” group was busily churning out piles of work – and learning from their mistakes — the “quality” group had sat theorizing about perfection, and in the end had little more to show for their efforts than grandiose theories and a pile of dead clay.
You don't get to "quality writing" without going through a lot of crappy writing.
That doesn't mean the crappy writing is garbage to be thrown out. If you make 50 pots or bowls or vases, and only one of them is The Good One... most of the rest are okay. Maybe not sale-quality good, but your-kitchen-table quality good. Maybe some aren't that good and are kids-toy-in-the-sandbox level good.
Bad writing has a purpose for the writer: they can use it as practice to get better. It has a purpose for the reader: It can serve as inspiration ("I can do better than that") or grammatical instruction ("that...does not work; why doesn't that work?") or just as entertainment ("eh, so it's missing a few commas; I can still understand it").
Smut and porn writing works the same way. It's of some value to the writer, and some to the readers.
It's not of value to everyone. That's what tags and filters are for, and why there's a summary and list of stats (like word counts)--so you can figure out if you're one of the readers for whom this piece of writing is useful or interesting.
But AO3, like any library, is not there to take the top 5% of Excellent Writing and provide it a showcase. It is absolutely for all 50 lbs of pots.
If your friend wants to read the good stuff, there are rec lists and collections to help her find it.
If she already manages that, and is just annoyed at how much of the not-good stuff (however she defines that) exists... she's picked the wrong battle. She's arguing with the ocean that it has too many kinds of fish and some are poisonous a lot of them are ugly.
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meayefet · 6 months
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Here's another thing I feel like we need to talk about regarding the current war between Israel and Hamas. Minor as it may be, I've been losing my mind over this.
As a person who grew up in the early 2010s, I grew up mostly on the internet and fandom culture, and have written quite a lot of fanficition in my early teens.
Something I've realized this past week is that people are seeing Palestine as a fandom. And not only does it belittle the actual problem, it dehumanizes Palestinians and Israelis alike and allows the rewriting of facts and truths as if it were an AU fanfic.
After realizing that I jokingly told a friend that I wouldn't be surprised to see RPF about the events of October 7th. I had in mind something like slash fiction of Hamas members, but today I found out people are writing fanfiction about A HOSTAGE AND HER CAPTOR.
I also found out it didn't happen in a vaccum - apparently tiktok is exploding with this stuff, saying Maya Regev - the hostage in question - had "left her heart in Gaza", because she smiled and said "shukran, bye" to her captors.
In case you have forgotten - Maya Regev was SHOT IN THE LEG AND TAKEN HOSTAGE INTO GAZA along with her brother, who was released FOUR DAYS AFTER HER. She was released with a shattered leg and without her brother - but if she smiled, her captors must have treated her so well, amirite? (Even though there are already plenty of horror stories from Hamas captivity, and children came back pale and whispering with their heads full of lice.)
Even in the early 2010s there was a debate whether RPF is legit or not (and at 26 I can safely say it's a no from me), but in this case it's even worse. These are not public figures we are talking about. This isn't One Direction or The Beatles. The Hamas terrorists are, well, terrorists, and Maya Regev is a private person made public because she was TAKEN HOSTAGE INTO GAZA. Writing a FANFIC about actual people who were actually injured during October 7th is beyond sickening, and it's probably the most immoral thing you can do on social media for the Palestinian cause (and if you guys claim to be on the side of morality you might want to be consistent).
Another thing that's driving me crazy is the difference between Israelis and Non-Israelis who grew up on the same things at the same time. my friends and I learned a lot about justice, critical thinking, and the power of art and creativity on the internet. I met a lot of my online friends in socialist youth movements and rallies, and many of them later became my classmates in Bezalel - BECAUSE we applied what we had learned into our adult life.
Non Israelis who grew up on the same platforms as I did who took part in the same fandoms, read the same fanfiction works, learned the same truths of social justice and the power of art- are now viewing the conflict as a fandom. You're either a fan or you're wrong - there is no middle. No room for critical thinking, for "Palestinians have every right to self-determination and an independent state BUT Hamas who actively prevents them said rights has comitted crimes against humanity on 7.10 and must be held accountable", or for "the occupation must end BUT the Jewish people are indigenous to the region" - there is only room for "by all means" and "from the river to the sea". It doesn't matter if they don't know which river and what sea - because if the conflict is a fandom, then they can write an AU to deal with every truth that doesn't settle with their narrative, and rewrite reality to fit their next fanfic.
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avocad1s · 11 months
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Pen and Paper
Requested By: Multiple anonymous users.
CW: Slightly suggestive. It mentions authors writing nsfw fanfic
Note: You all are crazy 💀 I got like seven requests for a part two ever since I posted about character’s writing fanfic about the creator. Most of them were the same so I decided to combine them.
Based off this post, but can be read as a standalone post
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As established in the first part, people enjoy reading fanfics about you. However what we didn’t talk about are the authors of these books.
I think you already know but there are three known authors who write books about you, Yae Miko, Xingqiu, and Albedo.
All of them have their own way of making their writings unique.
Xingqiu writes platonic Creator fan-fiction, some people want to imagine you as their best friend or even as their parent. Having a familial connection to you is what some readers strive to have.
Albedo is the only one including art in his books, kinda like the pov fanarts you’ll see. Only problem with this is Albedo doesn’t make many copies of his books so getting your hand on one is a feat in itself. They go for lots of mora, very few people can afford it and they people who can, hoard them. (Ehem, Ninnguang, Ayato and Pantalone 💀)
Yae runs a publishing house and is the editor for many people’s work. So if anyone has an original idea for a story, it would be her. She is also the one everyone sends their work to so it can be published.
The Archons are a different case. They don’t have to read self-insert stories about you because there are definitely people writing Creator x Archon stories. Some of them are horribly out of character since not many people have interacted with their Archon and only have other writings to go off of. But that doesn’t stop them from getting the books. Ei, Zhongli, and Venti like reading romantic books about you. Nahida doesn’t read fanfics about you often, but when she wants to know more about human nature, she’ll read some about you being her parent.
Now onto what everyone requested. You reading these fanfics.
Like I mention before, once you arrive to Teyvat there not going to try and hide these fanfics from you. They just doesn’t expect you to see them.
But you do. In fact, you read them.
To make matters worse you read them in public. Out loud.
Once the acolytes notice what you’re reading out loud they’re mortified. We’re you punishing them? Or do you find humor in reading these? Many characters are ready to get on their knees and apologize for reading these books, they don’t want you to be disgusted with them or get on your bad side. They’d be so sad!
If the authors of these books caught wind that you’ve read their books, they’ll be slightly embarrassed as well. It feels sacrilegious to think of you in such a manner but can you really blame them?
If you ask them to stop writing, they’ll stop publishing the fanfics… what you don’t know won’t hurt you :)
If you don’t care or even encourage it, then many more people will begin writing fanfics. Mostly with the hopes that you’ll read it. Perhaps if they pour their feelings onto paper you’ll notice how they feel for you?
Albedo would ask if you would model for one of his books. He’s drawn you multiple times but if you’re right in front of him, he knows he can make it more accurate. (Please let him, he’s begging with his eyes)
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Slight nsfw behind this point, if that’s not your cup of tea, you may take your leave.
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Of course if fanfics exist, so does nsfw fanfics.
You know how in the bookstores they have adult books wrapped in plastic? Yeah, the nations would also put their own barrier so the wrong audience don’t end up grabbing it.
These are the books they do not want you finding. Just imagine the look on their faces if they see you with one of those books.
Before you descended finding these books were almost impossible, many people weren’t sure what you looked like. All they had were scriptures of what your heavenly form looked like and ancient drawings of you that was hard to get your hands on unless you had some kind of power in the nations.
However once they get to see you with their own eyes…
Yeah they’re horknee 💀🙏
Having you in such a provocative way is something for their wildest imagination, so they will use these books to fill that void.
Dom Creator, Sub Creator… you name it. You can find it.
These books cannot be checked out at any library. No one wants a sticky book returned, have some mercy on your librarian.
I apologize for that sentence above 😭
Anyways, could you imagine finding your favorite of age character reading one of these books? They’ll try to quickly hide it a dark blush on their face as they apologize to you for reading such content.
But what makes them blush even darker is when you offer to recreate whatever they’re reading in real life. They’re stuttering and their bodies are trembling, but they aren’t going to deny such an offer from their dearest Creator.
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© avocad1s 2023
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navstuffs · 1 year
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Emptiness
Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader
Summary: You are dead, and Leon wonders why he is still alive.
Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, long one-shot, leon is suicidial, suicide attempt!!, leon is depressive, MAJOR ANGST, abuse of alcohol, some usage of y/n, cigarettes/smoking, leon is a mess, SAD SAD SAD!!!, leon is suffering a lot, lots of pain, NO HAPPINESS!, dates in italic count since reader's death
Author's Note: idk, except i am sorry i like to make the characters i love suffer and share that on the internet? i made my husband read this, and he doesn't care about leon whatsoever, and he ended up upset for him at the end so you can imagine how this goes. i have more happy leon's fanfics, you can check it out here!
PLEASE, PROCEED CAREFULLY, AS THIS FANFIC DESCRIBES SUICIDE, SUICIDE ATTEMPT, DEPRESSION, AND ALCOHOLISM.
If you have been struggling with depression or suicidal thoughts, you are NOT alone! Here is a link for tumblr support for some helpful information, depending in what country you are! Seek help, you are loved, you are strong, you are wanted!
3 months, 27 days, 3 hours, 5 minutes
The first thing Leon notices when he wakes up is that he is cold. He isn't wearing a shirt, and for some reason, the blankets covering his body look dirty with some unknown substance. He groans, throwing the blanket on the floor. He still wears the jeans from last night, has no shirt on, and doesn't smell well.
The second thing he hears is his phone's ringtone. It had to be Chris. Or Claire wondering if he is alive. He sits up, his hand rubbing his face as a way to make the headache less.
The third thing Leon notices is his hand resting in the empty space of the bed. Your empty space on the bed. He gulps because he hasn't touched that part since returning to the house. He raises his hand as if Leon contaminated the area, the last pieces he had of you.
Leon glimpses under your pillow a very familiar black shirt. One of the ones he gave to you. Leon doesn't remember grabbing it last night. He holds it, checking if he got dirty, but the shirt seems clean. Leon takes the shirt to his nose, smelling it. 
His phone rings a second time breaking his trance. He gets up from the bed and sighs when he sees the nightstands filled with beer cans. You would have hated that.
When he finally finds his phone on the bathroom floor, Leon's headache worsens when he sees Chris's name.
"Yeah?"
"Fuck Leon, I was on my way to your house right now. You scared me, man."
"What do you want?" Leon isn't in the mood to talk, especially with Chris.
"Claire told me she went by your house last night, and you weren't there. She says the motorcycle wasn't there. Have you been drinking and driving again?"
Leon rolls his eyes. As if drinking and driving was a big problem for him now.
"Okay, mom, if that is all, then."
"Look," Chris sighs, and there is a long pause before he speaks again. "There is a mission. If you are still interested."
Finally, Leon thinks. He has been begging for one for weeks now, and Chris has always said "no," "next time," or "we shall see" due to his mental health situation.
"Yeah. When?"
"I will send you more details when I have it. Look, Leon, I just don't think you should—"
Leon hangs up without letting Chris finish. He scrolls through his lost calls, mostly all of them being from Chris and Claire. A few from Jill when she was trying to help. It got too much for her as well. Leon scrolls down even longer, finally finding your name.
Almost four months ago. Has it been that long? Two last calls.
As a ritual he repeats every morning, Leon clicks on your name, hearing the call go straight to voice mail. Precisely as he wanted.
Hi, this is Y/N, you tried to reach me, but I can't take your call now! Leave me a voice message, and I will contact you as soon as possible!
Beep.
-x-
 4 months
Jill Valentine is sitting in front of Leon inside the jet. She hasn't looked at him once inside the plane as they are being taken to a contamination site. Her eyes are distant, her form is tense, and Leon maybe thinks that time can't cure it all.
"Preparing to land," They hear in their radio communications. Leon rechecks his gun, wondering without significant interest if any of that would ever end. When he looks up, Jill is observing him.
"You ready for this?" She asks with a mild tone of curiosity in her voice.
You knew Jill longer than you knew Leon, actually. You were her best friend before becoming his lover. Jill had given Leon all the solemn talk of "Don't fuck up with my best friend, or I will kill you." After your passing, Jill had become somewhat like a ghost in his life. She tried, Leon wonders, if not for you, to give him support in the first two weeks, but Leon knew deep down she blamed him.
And she was right.
"Yeah," He answers.
Jill nods. The last time she had seen Leon, he was miserable. With the longest beard Leon has ever had, bloodshot eyes, hair a mess, drunk, and the smell of cigarettes around the house. She told herself she would try for you, but it wasn't easy to see Leon like that. And after she said you would hate it if he smoked inside their house and Leon grunted that you were dead and never coming back, she left without looking twice.
She never understood why Chris and Claire continued. Maybe because they knew him longer than they knew you.
The plane finally lands in a safe space, and they exit. It is in an abandoned industrial area this time, and they might have survivors who live nearby and might need help.
"Do not fuck this up," Jill warns.
"I won't."
-x-
1 month, 1 week, 2 days, and 5 hours
Claire Redfield is knocking on Leon's door. It is way past dinner time, but she brings pizza. From your favorite place. Claire knows he won't have eaten anything since Chris kept telling her Leon is losing weight. Since your death, Claire has tried to help Leon out as much as she could because she knows that is what you would have wanted, to no avail.
"Come on, Leon, I have pizza! I know you haven't eaten today!" She announces.
That's when her sixth sense starts beeping. All house lights are off, which is strange: Leon either left the TV or any light on. Leon didn't like the darkness. Claire tries to open the door but is locked. Leon never locked the door since he was back for this house. With her heart racing, Claire goes to her bag and grabs the reserve key. She shares one with Chris, and they both trade every week. Leon doesn't seem to care, not that he cares about many things lately.
She enters the apartment to complete silence. No sight of him anywhere.
"Leon?" Her voice is distant, as her hands are looking for her gun. Maybe someone invaded and got him? Perhaps something else—?
The air escapes from Claire's lungs when she sees Leon. Hanging from the ceiling.
"Leon!" She screams, running fast to hold his legs. She doesn't know what she is doing, she is calling for help, she is trying to get a chair, she is trying to hold his legs up so he can breathe. Claire doesn't dare to look up.
With one sudden decision, Claire gets her gun and shoots three times at the rope. Leon's body drops, and he is pale as a ghost. She kneels near him, feeling his pulse. There is still one, very light, but there is one.
Without thinking twice, Claire starts CPR, Stayin' Live by Bee Gees, in her head. She knows Leon will hate her for this, but she can't fail this. She would have hated herself, you would have hated her.
"Come on, Leon, come on." She begs desperately as she compresses his chest with all her strength. When Leon finally breathes, a small vigorous one, Claire is sweating on her clothes. She sighs, relieved, sitting down on the floor, drained.
She grabs her bag and finds her phone to call the emergency number, asking for an ambulance. That her friend attempted suicide. She gives them Leon's address, checking for his breathing. When Leon opens his eyes, he is confused. The last thing he remembers is kicking the chair away, the air escaping slowly from his lungs. He looks around, finding Claire's face in his peripheral view. She seems to be crying, her hands on his chest.
His blue eyes find hers, and Leon looks with hatred in her direction for the first time that Claire doesn't recognize him. She feels tears form in the corner of her eyes, and her lips shake, but she holds them back.
"I have called an ambulance," Her voice shakes, and Leon's stare carries so much weight that she must look away.
-x-
1 month, 3 weeks, 8 hours, 2 minutes. 
The hospital door opens, and Leon exits, carrying his duffel bag. After staying confined for almost two weeks, he inhales the fresh air. Those two weeks, instead of helping, just made him feel worse. Much worse. With no alcohol, no cigarettes, nothing, Leon had no way to forget. He woke up and went to sleep with your face on his mind.
Going through what he did wrong. What he could have done right.
He feels the pain sting his soul, thinking about your smile. Fuck, he needed a drink. He needed some sort of dubious mixed-up cocktail. The stronger, the better. When he looks to his left, he sees Chris Redfield standing.
Sighing, he walks toward Chris. Leon knows he won't be able to run away. Chris has a worried stare as he gets closer. To be honest, Leon thought he should have hated after what he did to Claire, but no, Redfield still manages to give him a small smile when Leon gets close.
"Hey."
"Who told you I was going to leave?"
"Mhm, the hospital? You are in my care for the next couple of weeks."
"I am going home." Leon starts to walk away from him, but Chris's arm stops him.
"No, you are not. As I said, you are in my care. And if I need to drag you to my car and make a scene in front of all those people, I will. What do you think?"
Leon hates how Chris can look like you so much regarding his care. Always to drastic measures, you both could say. Pretending to have given up, Leon holds his hands up as a sign of defeat and follows Chris to his car.
"Is...Claire okay?" Leon mutters as Chris starts the car. Leon can see Chris hold the wheel stronger than he should, but the moment passes, and Chris answers.
"She is worried sick about you. She has been...busy, that is all."
Leon knows that is a lie. He had seen Claire on one of the visitations day, and she seemed upset like she had been crying every day since she found him. Leon felt guilty Claire was finding him (he thought someone else would) and was outraged when she saved him. And he ended up lashing out at her. When Claire tried to argue during the visitations that is what you would have wanted, Leon roared that he never wanted to see her again.
To be honest, Leon is relieved. One less person for him to hurt. Chris, well, that one was hard. Leon knows he isn't giving up that easily. Especially after the last thing he said to you was that he would protect him during a mission.
"No, no, Chris, you don't understand, he bikes around without a helmet and thinks that is super cool? I mean, how old is he again? You better keep your eye on him, if I am not around. Got it?" You asked, winking in Leon's direction. He knew you were teasing him, but Chris's tone was serious when he answered.
"Loud and clear."
In the first three weeks after your death, Chris was there. He rummaged through the house, taking everything Leon could use to harm himself. Leon's guns were the first to go, Leon didn't know how he discovered the password, and honestly, he didn't care. He just woke up a day with them gone. Knives? Gone. It was like Chris was baby-proofing the house. 
Leon would have lost much more weight during that time if it wasn't for Chris insisting on him eating. Or hydrate. Warning if he got too weak to take care of himself, Chris would have made sure to strap him to a bed and kept him there against his will.
"There are cigarettes in the glove's compartment," Chris says, cutting his line of thought.
Leon looks at him with suspicion before opening. Chris wasn't lying. There is even a lighter there.
"You smokin' now?" Leon asks out of curiosity.
"No. I bought those for you."
Leon lights up a cigar, opening the window. The rest of the car ride goes silent, and when they finally arrive at Chris's house, he turns off the car, sighing.
"Look, Leon. I am not very good at this, and you know it. You will stay with me as long as you want, but I can't keep you a prisoner in my house."
Leon observes him, and Chris takes the courage to finally say it.
"No one wants you dead, Leon. What happened to Y/N, it wasn't your fault. And you need therapy."
Leon gives a humorless laugh, opening the door of the car.
"You are not bad at this, Chris. You are terrible at this."
-x-
4 months, 1 day, 5 hours
Ada Wong is good at her job. She does what she is paid to do when she needs to do it. No feelings attached, except, well, when Leon Kennedy is involved. It had been like this since the events during Raccoon City.
And then, suddenly, you appeared on his side during the events in Spain. You were something else, for sure. Standing by his side, remaining strong, although that was your first mission, or so Ada heard. And facing up her, determination in your eyes. Ada found you adorable, perfect for Leon. The loyalty, in your eyes, was something she could never demonstrate.
The man in front of her now was just what once was Leon Kennedy, her..."ally" from the other side. Ada had to admit she was shocked when she first saw him, barely recognizing him. Leon had big dark bags under his eyes, not as strong as he once was. And there was...no life in his once vivid blue eyes. Nothing.
"Ada Wong. Doing something for yourself again?" Leon asks, his voice monotone.
Ada was used to his hostility, mistrust, and even anger. But not that complete apathy, a complete lack of emotions. Leon Kennedy was dead, she was confident, and he died when you did.
"You know I don't share my secrets, big boy," She says, her tone the same as always. "But we can always find common ground, as we always do."
Leon nods, and Ada tells herself she shouldn't care, she shouldn't ask. But she has never seen it like this, and this Leon frightens her.
"I have heard about Y/N. My condolences."
Leon's eyes go wide with surprise. He looks at Ada as if she has just arrived from outer space.
"Is this one of your schemes? 'Cause if it is, cut the crap, I am not in the mood."
"It is not. I heard about what happened." Is Ada Wong really showing empathy? Leon blinks, surprised, but he shakes his head. No, it has to be one of her tricks. Since when did Ada start caring about him?
"Shut up, Ada. Do not mention this ever again. We are here for a mission, nothing else, nothing more. Stop pretending you fucking care." Leon's voice is low, and Ada doesn't say anything as she watches him walk in the dark corridor before her. She has known him long enough to know when he is being serious, and she knows he is threatening her life now.
Ada sighs. The Leon Kennedy she once knew, was gone. You left a carcass behind, a damaged man for the rest of his life. Ada still remembers the last thing she said to you, before she disappeared.
"You are truly special. Take care of him."
-x-
1 minute
"Is Mr. Leon Kennedy speaking?"
Leon stops when he answers his phone to a strange voice. 
"Yes? Who is this?"
"Mr. Kennedy, this is from McKenney Hospital. Could we speak with you in just a moment? Are you busy or driving?"
"No. Hospital, you say? What is going on?"
"We just need a moment of your time. Do you know Y/N L/N?"
Leon's heart starts bumping against his chest.
"Yes. What about it?"
"Y/N L/N was involved in a car crash today, sir. At this moment in time, they are doing surgery on them."
"What? No, excuse me, ma'am, this is some mistake."
The gentle voice behind the phone silences as she listens, Leon saying you weren't involved in an accident. It was impossible. You were coming to have dinner with him later, you were going to forgive him, you were going to be back together just fine. When Leon shuts up, the voice speaks again with much more compassion.
"You are tagged as their emergency contact, Mr. Kennedy. How long can you get in here—"
"I just fucking told you, lady, that is impossible, they are coming to have dinner with me, we are supposed to reconnect, and you aren't listening to me!" Leon screams the last part, punching the counter before him and making all the glass bowls in the counter jump. 
The compassionate voice waits to speak again in a much more determined tone.
"Mr. Kennedy, I suggest you come to the hospital, not alone. Come with a friend. We will answer all your questions and concerns when you get here. Just don't come alone."
Leon turns off the call, pissed. How can the lady be so stupid? He told her over and over again you were on your way to his house, your house. Leon had been cooking the whole night, preparing your favorite dinner. After that, he would never let you away from him ever again. He breathes deeply now, trying to ease the tremors on his hands, when he lets his eyes wander off to the TV, a news broadcast about a terrible accident that happened. Some drunk driver caused this accident that involved a with a truck oil tank, and five people were killed. Many injuries reported.
Without thinking twice, Leon grabs his motorcycle's keys.
He doesn't know how he got in one piece in the hospital. Something inside him tells him to call Jill, Claire, Chris, or someone, anyone, but he doesn't. The hospital's entrance is chaotic, with most victims being taken there since it was the closest location.
Leon asks your name to the front receptionist, and they say they are operating you now. The lady points to the waiting room area, where Leon waits. Leon had felt fear many times in his life, but nothing compared to this. He knew you were strong. Stronger than him, actually. You were brave. You were getting out of this.
Because he didn't know how to live without you.
Leon observed families getting good and bad news for what seemed an eternity. The death toll climbed to more two people, a mom crumble in the doctor's arms due to the loss of his son and husband. Leon was praying, begging for some higher force or anything for you to live.
He would never drink again. Leon Kennedy would never let the darkness inside him win and let you go. He would never doubt himself or his ability to love. No, Leon would love you even more intensely than he already did, more than anything in his life.
Leon takes a while to get up when the doctor finally calls his name. He feels sick, his stomach is twisting. He counts nine steps until he gets to the doctor, a lady with scrubs and an indecipherable face.  
"Mr. Kennedy, do you want me to take you to a more private room?"
"Tell me."
The doctor sighs, looking directly into his eyes when she says. 
"We did everything we could, Mr. Kennedy. I am sorry they didn't make it."
No. 
"I am sorry, Mr. Kennedy, I truly am."
No. NO! NO!
"Mr. Kennedy, please, don't, I am sorry. Can I get some help over here? Please, don't do this!"
It takes six or seven security guards to stop Leon from destroying the waiting room or even hurting someone. He is crying, he is begging, he is losing himself. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't. It was unfair: not after everything he had done or everything you went through together. He always told you he needed to die first because Leon knew damn well he couldn't live without you. Leon has a hole in his chest that will never close again. He feels someone pull his sleeve up, a pinching sensation, and Leon falls into darkness. 
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meowufff · 11 months
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This is my first actual post on Tumblr ever so pls bear with me. Also, English is not my first language so pls excuse any mistakes I make :)
So, this whole thing here started just as a joke bc I was curious if anyone else was feeling constantly tired all day no matter how long I sleep. But it all somehow escalated a bit and I may have started hyperfixating on it so well, now it actually became a little survey.
I also wanted to mention that I only asked the artist in my little Tumblr bubble, which is mostly tmnt content, so my results are mostly referring to tmnt artists.
In total, I asked 143 people if they could remember the last time they woke up and just felt actually rested for more than half of the day.
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I probably could have been more specific with my question but again, I did not actually planned to let it become so big. Personally, for me being rested means, having a clear head, no headache or foggy mind without consuming any caffeine.
So out of 143 people, 100 answered me and I tried my best to sort all of the answers after the criteria “good-sleep-schedule” and “bad-sleep-schedule” and also noted when exactly they last felt actually rested into either the last days, weeks, months, years or “???” when they couldn’t remember or didn’t mention anything specific.
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And let’s just say… it does not really look good. Out of 100 people, only 18 have an actual good sleep schedule. Out of these 18 people, 13 felt really rested in the last days, 2 in the last weeks, only one person in the last months and 2 in the last years.
Out of the 82 of people who have a bad sleep schedule, 10% lastly felt rested in the last days, 11% in the last weeks, 11% in the last months, 30% in the last years, and 38% couldn’t remember or didn’t specify it.
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While reading all your answers I came to realize being sleep deprived is not just bc any of them thought “Oh it would be really neat to stay up till 4 am!” or smth like that.
A lot of the artists who answered me mentioned that they have trouble falling asleep or staying asleep due to stuff like insomnia, chronic pain, other issues, or children (yeah, ok, there was just one who had a child but still).
While analyzing I mostly referred the situations to my own experience with going to sleep or rather not going to sleep...
I usually don’t have problems falling asleep but trouble actually putting my stuff away and going to bed bc I don’t want to end the day or just don’t want to go to sleep (don’t ask why, I have no idea why I am like this). While having these “episodes” I often doodle smth, binge reading some fanfics, or watch whatever I can find on the internet until I’m just falling asleep or can convince myself that it is 3 am and I really should go to bed now.
So, my personal theory about why sleep deprivation is so common among Tumblr artists is not bc they do art all night. My theory is that a lot of people who have trouble falling asleep due to insomnia, pain, or other issues are filling the time until they hopefully fall asleep with their art, doodles, writings, or whatever their creative minds can bring up, to help the time pass.
In total that would mean that not all artists are sleep deprived but more that a lot of people who have trouble falling asleep do a lot of art or creative stuff in general.
Something I could also imagine is, that if they start doing art while waiting for sleep, they start to concentrate a lot on creating more and start procrastinating sleep even if they actually get tired bc they wanna do art and fuck up their non-existing sleep schedule even more but that could also just be me projecting here.
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I know that is probably no kind of big revelation but for me it was kind of surprising to see how many people here are as sleep deprived as me and due to what reasons.
I’m not going to preach to any of you to get that problem solved or smth, I have no right to tell you what to do and would be a major hypocrite so instead I really which everyone to get some kind of good sleep schedule one day and the joy of waking up and feeling completely rested at least thrice per week.
I absolutely love all your art and thank you a thousand times for helping me with this spontaneous survey!
I would love to hear your opinions on my theory and conclusion so pls don’t be shy and feel free to point out any mistakes I may have made or tell me your own theories :D
Also, if my question is still sitting in your inbox, feel free to answer! I’m gonna keep ma big ass excel table so I can edit all the results anytime. And maybe, one day, I'm gonna continue this survey and go into more detail but for now I need to leave it like this.
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Ok, that's all I got
BYE!
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Thanks to all participants
@abbeyofcyn @angelpuns @beannary @bulbabutt @camilieroart @cementgeek @cheesyescapade @cokowiii @easterartist @frosteaart @gemini-forest @happyfoxx-art @heckitall @hellishgayliath @holy-sweetsour-milk @icepopcider @idiot-mushroom @iscreamkitty @kovalitics @laseralligator @lieutenantbiscute @matchstique @mightyanxiety @miiukkaa @mr-doodles @pezhead @probably-not-a-rutabaga @pumpkster @sad-leon @sassatello @sewercrocodileart @sheep-turtles-and-pizza @signanothername @spectra-bear @stephuart @tangledinink @tapakah0 @tasenwiththerobots @tblsomedoodles @thegunnsara @triona-tribblescore @turrondeluxe @valen-timez @vangh17a @wraenata @zinovi768 @debb987 @dianagj-art @goatedgreen @indieyuugure
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gremlingottoosilly · 8 months
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in if you need to be mean, would the reader ever try to escape? and if she did, how would konig react? thinking about like, she planned for a few months how would she escape him, and she feels very conflicted bc she loves him, but she wants freedom and thats the only thing konig would never give her. so when hes away she takes the car and just goes. i dont know where, but shes so desperate te be free again to do whatever she likes without him hovering and always by her side trying to control what she does! would he feel sad? would he be devastated? would he go after her? i know that theres like a 1% chance of it happening but im so curious about how he would react and how it would change their relationship.
anyway, love your fanfics gremlin you're a genius!!! 🫶
Konig made everything in his power to prevent her from escaping without locking her up and breaking her legs, but it doesn't mean he won't do it.
He refuses to let her study German because he moved her to this foreign country without her knowing the language, and he specifically chose a distant tiny town in the middle of the Austrian woods, where not a lot of people know English and therefore, it would be hard for her to communicate. She doesn't have his car keys or a driver's license, he didn't leave her a lot of cash, so she forced to use his cards with updates of withdrawal and spending sent to his account, and she also just has a dependant visa that wouldn't allow her to do independent anyway. Her only way would be speaking to the police and hoping that they would start the investigation. It would be really hard because, well, Austria doesn't really care about immigrant's problems unless it's an international scandal, and Konig would know anyway - because he has cameras in the house, which he doesn't even hide, and if the investigation would die down, or his girl wouldn't go to the police, he wouldn't really break the contract and run to her immediately. He has quite a few friends around, especially if Krueger or Klaus are around and not on deployment with him, so he could ask them to go and visit his...wife. She is scared and a bit hysterical because of the foreign country, so she can tell weird things about kidnapping and escaping, they shouldn't listen to her! Konig won't be so nice when he returns. He really wanted to play this fantasy of having cute little housewife, nice house and a girl that is absolutely in love with him. He knows that you like him, at least, that you didn't want to escape, you're just silly! He infantilised you before, mostly because of the age difference, but it would be even harsher now. You are not allowed to leave the house, he often simply locks you in the bedroom so you won't have anything to do besides waiting for him to return with groceries and fuck you into the mattress. He didn't want to break you leg, but if you keep resisting, he might kinda push you a bit further. He would assign you a no-nonsense older caretaker so you would have company and help while your leg is broken! She also thinks that you have some sort of weird mental illness that made you paranoid and afraid of your husband, so you can't even get help from her. You can forget about going out while he is on deployment either. And he is very reluctant to let you out, even with him, the first few months after your attempted escape. The world is too dangerous for you anyway,
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gold-rhine · 11 months
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Inazuma Rewrite part one
This is bullet points rewrite for Inazuma general plot structure, bc I think it had so much potential, but was horrifically scuffed in game. If I keep something from canon unchanged, I’ll just say so without retelling the entire thing to keep the length down, bc it’s gonna be A LOT already.
Some disclaimers: I’m not trying to fix every single problem, just what I see as major structural failures. I will reference my problems, but you can read my explanations on them more in depth in my “inazuma ranting” tag.
This is also not envisioned as free for all fanfic where I can write whatever I want, but aimed to be actually feasible to see in game, bc it’d be unfair and I want to show that Inazuma could be improved in the same constraints that hoyo writers had. So please don’t ask why I didn’t do wildly inconsistent thing that would be cool, but genshin would never actually do.
I’m aiming to retain all relevant lore and achieve basically same worldstate in the end, including character arcs, for the most part, because I presume them to be integral to the larger strategic plotline of the game. Which means I can’t drastically change characterization and major plot beats like the decrees, rebellion, Raiden has to be a sympathetic ally in the end, etc. I’m also trying to keep genshin’s general tone and modus operandi, bc like, target audience includes 13 yolds and I can’t just “make Inazuma good” by turning it into like, a gruesome and complex power struggle of political factions like Fallout New Vegas.
List of main issues I want to address: pacing in general, rebellion pacing especially, lack of impact and continuity of effects of vision loss on people, lack of setup for the stasis vs transience aka ei vs makoto conflict, character arcs: raiden, ayaka, kazuha, kokomi, yoimiya, kujou sara. And more! 
Initially I wanted to make a single post, but it’s already 3k and I’m only up to Raiden’s first duel and I plan to cover post-archon quest content too, like Raiden and Yoi story quests, so I decided to split it up instead of posting like 20k monstrosity. So remember, this is for now mostly a setup.
EDIT: Part 2
Raiden’s motivations\Reasons for vision hunt
Ok, so one of the biggest principal changes is that vision hunt and sakoku decree are active Raiden’s decisions, instead of Fatui’s plot that she’s just passively allowing to happen. Raiden closed the country, but she’s ok with Fatui starting a civil war and selling delusions, bc it doesn’t “affect eternity”, like??? I honestly think that the current plot of her people dying in a civil war meant nothing to her is much worse than her starting vision hunt decree out of misguided plan to ultimately do better for people.
I mean ok, we have to have closed borders to reference Japan’s history, sure, but like, the whole point of isolationist policies like this is to prevent the outsiders’ influence on the country. So she should not be ok with Fatui schemes at any point.  
I mean, if it was fallout new vegas AU, I’d keep it to show that dictator doesn’t not care about foreign powers exploiting it’s people as long as it profits the empire and helps to keep people subjugated, but like. Then raiden can’t be uwu waifu. So we gonna give her good intentions and integrity, but misunderstanding of humanity due to closing herself off instead.
Now to why would she close the country and institute sakoku decree. I want to tie this in with another plotline that is just. Kinda floating at sidelines at the moment, but I think could work nicely in tandem. The Scaramouche destroying Raiden Gokaden, the five schools of weapon smithing, which were canonically highly valued by Raiden.
I’m not gonna recount Scara’s entire plotline, but basically he went on a misguided crusade against Raiden Gokaden and managed to cause fall of 4 out of 5 weapon-smith schools.
Game says that he like, tampered with the schools and covertly led to their ruin, which like?? They never found anyone guilty, like the most prized weapon art smiths of your country fall apart and you’re like oh well, I guess Yashiro commission is just bad at it’s job?
There is a plot point in this story where Isshin weapon smiths, unable to replicate a faulty design that was Raiden’s commission tampered by Scara, were scared of Raiden’s wrath and decided to flee to Snezhnaya. I want to change it to be that there is an event, where ALL weapon schools receive same commission at the same time, and Scara tampers with it.
Just as in canon, scared smiths, but now from 4 schools, not one, are manipulated by Fatui to flee to Snezhnaya, But we add a new NPC, the most talented blade smith who had a vision. Fatui frame him as the ring leader, as if they were running not to save their lives because of the tampered design, impossible to fulfil, but that this was a betrayal because of his ambitions.
After this, Raiden has legitimate cause to feel like her eternity is threatened. She sees weapon art schools, one of the most prized country’s traditions being ruined in a moment because of what she thinks is ambitious hubris of one vision holder, who colluded with outsiders. So she closes Inazuma and declares a vision hunt, to prevent this from ever happening again.
But ironically, in truth it was the fault of not just Fatui, but specifically a puppet without a vision that she herself created and failed to supervise. This brings the main idea of the plotline from “Fatui evil, Raiden passive” to “Solipsist goddess who doesn’t understand humanity tries to protect her people by locking them in stasis and taking their ambitions, but the real case of tragedy was her negligence and lack of empathy all along, and this is what needs to be changed.”
Interlude and plot setup
We start with similar plotline. Traveler tries to go to Inazuma, learns that it’s closed, talks to Inazuman NPC to learn more. Here we’re introduced to the general idea that Inazuma was closed off due to one traitor blade smith with a vision who sold off Raiden Gokaden to Fatui.
We go to Beidou’s tournament, which goes basically the same, we meet Kazuha and watch a beautiful cutscene about his dead friend who challenged Raiden to a duel, and now Kazuha tries to find someone who can reignite his vision. I will actually add changes to Kazuha’s storyline, but it be will later.
then we arrive to Inazuma, go through the same bureaucracy loops with Thoma on Ritou, to show the barriers to outsiders and also to illustrate how Thoma is the best fixer when he manages to drop a fee from 1 mil to like 10 gold by promising to have a dinner with government official.
But we’re cutting the second part of Ritou, with the boring plot about like merchant from Mond scamming people with the local police and then Traveler delivering love letter or whatever. I mean, we can keep this as an optional side quest, if like hoyo thinks the lore about love letter is essential for the Ayato’s quest or smth, but not as an Archon quest.
Instead, we put a part of Yoimiya’s quest there. I think Yoi’s quest is relevant enough to stay in the Archon quest, unlike Ayaka’s, but it’s slapped into a place where it ruins pacing. So instead, we’re cutting it up in parts and inserting it into main storyline.
On Ritou, while doing bureaucracy bullshit, we meet Yoimiya, and play the part of her quest about her helping a guy with a vision to escape from his former best friend, who is now a guard hunting him. It helps to show the rift that vision hunt brings not only with the outsiders, but with inside of the country as well.
Ghost of Makoto\Transience setup
another key point that I think is integral to fixing Inazuma is planting seeds for Makoto’s reveal from the start. I really like the Stasis vs Transience conflict from raiden’s second story quest, where raiden believed in eternity as lack of change, a perfect state maintained until the rest of time, while her twin Makoto believed in eternity as never-ending change, where people’s dreams constantly evolve, nature of them chasing these dreams never changes.
but it feels like it came out of nowhere and raiden just speedruns character development in like an hour, so a lot of people ended up feeling like it was just about Raiden mourning her sister, instead of raiden coming to understand makoto’s belief system and through that unlocking makoto’s final connection and then being able to let go.
so we need to first of all, introduce makoto’s ideas of transience from the start, and also empathize the conflict of them with raiden’s stasis.
and it doesn’t mean we’ll spoil the reveal about the second raiden shogun! we don’t have to ever use makoto’s name, just her title as a raiden and sprinkle her ideas throughout the land. We know hoyo area designers can do that stuff really well (guizhong’s relics being scattered all over liyue, rukkhadevata’s shadow in the aranara quest).
like, it’s strange that Makoto primarily ruled and shaped country by herself while Ei was just a warrior, yet we do not have Makoto’s influence visible. We need to add ideas of transience into fundamentals of Inazuma,
“Transience is the dream of the nation of thunder. We find the greatest joys in mortal life in fleeting dreams, for is life itself not like the shadow of the thunder? Pursue your dreams into the clouds if you wish, and enjoy the unexpected silence of the dim lamp-lit nights.” - Guide to Transience talent book.
add these ideas all over the place, esp near sakura. And let’s draw player’s attention a couple of times specifically to the internal contradiction of these ideas of transience being integral to inazuma and raiden’s current hatred of change.
like, we need even 13 yolds and twitch streamers to remember this, so lets make paimon say like
“Huh, this shrine to raiden shogun says that eternity is the pursuit of fleeting dreams, but doesn’t raiden shogun fucking hates dreams?? I wonder, what made her change her mind about them to the total opposite!“
this and more subtle puzzles\locations with focus on transience for people who pay more attention will add the much needed setup for makoto’s reveal
Kamisato siblings
ok, first things first, Ayato being absent without any explanation while his little sister is plotting treason and his malewife Thoma is about to be executed on the streets is unacceptable.
like I know it’s marketing or whatever and he’s not being released but we need his model, hoyo. If we 200% CAN’T have his model, we need to come up with solid excuse why he’s not here. Like idk, he’s helping the war refugees or smth
And we need hints at his presence\influence throughout the story. Like oh, here’s group of refugees who were helped by Yashiro commissioner, they are relocating to new homes, I guess Ayato is really busy. Oh, here is Fatui’s camp where everyone is slaughtered and boba tea cups are littered around, I wonder what is up with that.
and also, Ayaka is organizing resistance behind his back, and we never meet him bc Ayaka actively tries to hide traveler from him.
bc like, Ayaka doesn’t have a development arc in archon quest. She’s just kind of there, being perfect. Like in her story quest that hoyo makes you do at gun point, you like, go on a date, learn that she’s lonely and has trouble connecting with people due to the pressure of having to project an image of perfection and societal distance, do an investigation to uncover her late mother’s fox fursona roleplay diary which she used to cope her with own societal pressure. Which like. Ok, sure, but but this wet socks quest is not an archon quest material. It should be just a normal story quest.
no, Ayaka’s real conflict is wanting to prove herself to her brother, bring real difference to the world. This is her ambition, she literally gained her vision while fighting Ayato in a training, she wanted to show him that she’s strong enough to handle responsibility, he named her Shirasagi Himegimi after she won that fight
but during a civil war, watching people suffer, her role as a cultural figurehead is not enough. She wants to help, but she’s afraid to act, because this will undermine Yashiro Commission and her brother worked so hard to build it back up after Raiden Gokaden fall. so she organizes resistance behind her brother’s back in secret, to help, but without compromising Kamisato name
this basically tracks with what happens in game, but we spell it out and expand on this later.
Getting Traveler to help
next, let’s throw out the weird edging introduction where traveler is not allowed to see Ayaka the first time. like??? bro, we’re friends with 2 archons and heads of their governments, you’re not that important. and it can’t be to protect her identity, bc like. You go to Kamisato estate! You’re told who she is! If you wanted to betray her, that would be enough already.
another awkward thing is that Traveler, who agrees to do every stupid quest they meet, suddenly refuses to help the resistance.
I think we should reframe their convo a little, like Traveler says hey I’d love to help, but my primary goal is to get info about my sibling from an Archon, so I don’t want to go against her.
To which Ayaka says oh, I totally get you, you see, I am myself a culture figurehead and a nominal princess and I can’t speak up against the decree, bc that will hurt Yashiro Commission. But I’m not asking you to fight Raiden Shogun in a duel or smth, I’m just asking you to help people with the resistance, which we do totally in secret. No one will know! Also, how are you going to see Raiden? She’s locked up and doesn’t appear in public. But my big brother is a head of the Commission, if anyone can get you an audience, it’s him. So help me help people and I will ask him to help you see Shogun!
she secretly believes that after traveler sees ppl suffering, they will change their mind and help willingly, same as in canon, but she’s more subtle about it
Rebellion connection
my other problem with vision hunt is that the 3 quests they force you to do about meeting people who lost their visions are like. not good. The concept is interesting, but they are just kinda boring and meandering. They lack dramatic impact. They could do better. So we’re not doing these 3 quests rn, but don’t worry about it, we will get to the effects of vision loss
Instead, ayaka sends us to help Yoimiya and we do the same quest we do in archon quest - help her to free someone from prison dungeon. It goes the same, we get to the dude being mistreated by cops, Kujou Sara steps up and lets us go
But then it’s like, we need to get this dude out of Inazuma city. Cops know he escaped! They will just come for him again! There is only one place that will take him and it’s the watatsumi rebels.
Common complaint about Inazuma is that other countries feel like found families and Inazuma doesn’t, bc characters from resistance and rebellion basically don’t interact, and it’s true. And like, we can get them together! Thoma knows Kazuha, Kazuha knows Gorou, Gorou in canon went to recoinsanse missions to Narukami island.
So, Gorou visits the tea house to pick up the Vision Dude, and the gang has the hotpot meet up. Everyone is there (except Kokomi bc ok hoyo, we’re saving up for dramatic battle reveal, and i think her reveal would fuck up banner schedule). Ayaka, Thoma, Yoimiya, Kazuha, Gorou. and Teppei! Who is here bc he was recruited by Gorou. He’s actually from Narukami island, not Watatsumi, and he had nothing to do with visions, but he’s an idealist, he believes in freedom, so he joined rebellion. fun times are had, Ayaka tries to play srs bsns lady host, but breaks into giggling at The Shenanigans, Gorou is overly polite but adorable and apologizes to Ayaka about The Shenanigans in which everyone but him participates, Yoi is a life of party and the Shenanigans and later has to be bodily stopped by Kazuha from organizing fireworks right here, right now, Thoma and Teppei both get sick from eating Ayaka’s nasty cakes that she threw into soup, bc Thoma is just into oral stuff and Teppei is so earnest and eager to prove himself and impress ppl, haha comic relief, look how sweet and funny this guy is and all characters get along so great with him
bc like, I think Teppei has a problem of a) not having enough screen time b)not having any interesting characterization moments to make him stand out 3)not having other playable and already likeable characters interact with him
so this scene can serve not only to bring that “unlikely bunch of people becoming friends and working together” connection to life, but also to endear Teppei to the players
Vision Loss Effects\ Yoimiya and Thoma
ok, next Ayaka asks Traveler to do that one quest about martial arts master losing their vision. I think it’s the one quest from 3 about vision loss with most drama, but the real reason is that it introduces Yae Miko and we need to do this before leaving for the rebellion. Like, in theory, it could be switched to another, better quest that lets us meet Yae Miko, but honestly, this is not one of Inazuma archon quest problems so I can’t be arsed. Feel free to imagine a cooler intro instead.
when we go back to tea house, we learn that Yoimya’s vision has been taken away. She has been recognized in that last prison raid and the guards came for her later, and she didn’t fight bc there were kids and her old father around.
She’s completely changed. Her innate optimism, her belief in people and their dreams has been drained from her like a sunshine from a dark cellar. But she’s still Yoimiya!! She came here to warn you bc she still cares even if she had her own joy taken from her. She tries to smile and reassure you that it’s ok, she’s fine, but her smile is visibly strained, she’s never had to fake it before so she doesn’t know how. She wears a vision, but it’s a fake one, because her pops said that maybe having it here would help and she agreed, tried to pretend for him that it does help, bu. It very obviously doesn’t.
Ayaka is horrified. She apologizes to Yoimiya, tries to think of ways to help her, but Yoi just laughs humorlessly. “It won’t ever touch you, princess.”
She’s immediately disgusted at herself and apologizes, tries to take it back, this isn’t her, she would never say this, and not to her friend! But also, it’s so hard to care now and she can’t remember why it’s so important to care at all.
Ayaka is shaken. Bc it’s true! She is a privileged noble, vision hunt will not come for her! She is playing at the resistance from the safety of anonymity, while people like Yoimiya actually risk themselves and pay the price!
And this is when the news that Thoma was arrested and about to be 100th vision taken at the feet of the statue comes. Tenryou commission truly strikes back.
Ayaka is in uproar. She’s ready to go herself and fight for Thoma, especially after Yoi’s words. She’s sick and tired of being a perfect princess, she can’t allow any more of her friends, her family come to harm because they don’t have her protection. Clearly Thoma being a theatrical execution is a blow specifically against Yashiro commission and Kamisato family in particular, and if Shogun has beef with her, well, she can settle it with HER instead of going after her friends!
Traveler stops her. This is what they want. If Ayaka openly moves against the Shogun, the entire Yashiro commission falls. Even if Ayaka is in the right! No, it’s the Traveler who will go to save Thoma
But traveler needs raiden’s good will for the info, they can’t confront raiden openly, it was the deal from the start!
But at this point traveler has seen too much, the divide in the country, the change and suffering of their own friends, and they can’t allow all of Yashiro commission take the fall.
This is when the Traveler decides to take a stand.
ACT 2
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haunted-moon · 6 months
Text
Long Way Home [Part IV]
[Azriel x Reader fanfic]
Synopsis: Y/n is the daughter of a healer in the city of Velaris. After a small incident, she moves to the House of the Wind to work for the High Lord, Rhysand. Everyone in the house seems to welcome her except Azriel, the second in command. Even though he is just blankly polite and does not acknowledge her much, she can't help but fall for him. Does Azriel return her feelings or remain unfeelingly aloof?
─•~❉᯽❉~•─
Read Part 1 here.
Read Part 2 here.
Read Part 3 here.
─•~❉᯽❉~•─
Part IV
"I'm seriously surprised that you've never flown before."
I levelled Cassian with a dead stare. "I don't have wings, dumbass."
"You could've asked me or Azriel to take you flying."
"I am also chubby and heavy to carry."
He scoffed, and in one movement, picked me up in his arms, bridal style. "Heavy, my ass. You're perfect."
I blushed and brought my hands around his neck as he directed. He stepped onto the balcony wall, and my heart thumped in the thrill of anticipation. 
"Ready?"
I nodded, grinning uncontrollably. This was fun. 
He jumped, spreading his wings to catch the wind. I screamed as we dipped for a moment before he soared high and steadied. 
For a moment there, I was sad because I had missed out this experience. Not for long, though. Cassian weaved through the highest parts of the city, laughing along with me. He circled around the perimeter of the city and then went beyond, above a thin ribbon of a stream. Here, he swooped down sharply, and my stomach plummeted along. 
While we were just a little above the water's surface, he tilted me and let my feet dangle in the cool water. It made me giggle, and soon enough, he was soaring above again and returning to the city. He flew for some more time, until he was tired and deposited me on the balcony. 
My legs trembled as I walked over to a seat and flopped down. Cassian had to leave because Rhys was summoning him, and I thanked him profusely before he left. He was very sweet, and this short trip was amazing. I spent the rest of the day in a daydream, packing a small suitcase to take home since I was spending the next two days with my father. 
When I was packing some toiletries, Amren knocked on the open door. 
I waved her over to one of the chairs. "Come in."
My quarters was mostly empty now, I had shifted everything except the ones I immediately needed. She looked around and perched elegantly on the chair and lifted her head at me.
"Why are you leaving?" She asked bluntly. 
My hands stilled, and I thought over my response. I had planned to leave without anyone noticing, and I wasn't prepared in the event that someone did notice. 
"Are you unhappy here? Do you feel unwelcome? What is it?" She asked again. 
"The actual reason for my leaving is not valid, to be honest."
She leaned back and crossed arms. "Try me."
"It involves one of the residents here. It's not their mistake, it's mine. I carried a lot of unfulfillable expectations, and I just want to stay away."
I didn't have any idea what I was saying. I spoke one word after word without even thinking whether they made a connection or not. She stared unblinkingly at me and I returned it with a steady gaze. Finally, she stood up and walked out without a word. 
I broke the news to my father at dinner the next night. He was very confused about my decision, as he thought that things at the House of the Wind were going rather well. However, he came to the crux of the matter quickly. 
"It's about Azriel isn't it. He hurt you."
"No he didn't. They are all very nice to me. But I can't stay there any longer. The problem is with me. I have feelings for Azriel, and I want to go away from him since there is not a chance of anything happening between us and I can't take it anymore."
There, I said it. I didn't meet Azriel frequently, but I thought of him every single day. He consumed my thoughts ever since I've lived in the quarters next to him, even when he didn't look at me for more than a span of five seconds. I must've gone insane.
My father watched me in silence for a few moments. 
"Alright. Let me know if you need any help. Stay safe out there, and reach out to me if you need any provisions and supplies."
I smiled, a bit teary as I reached across the table and took his hand. "Thank you."
─•~❉᯽❉~•─
Tags:
@kalulakunundrum
@thelov3lybookworm
@hnyclover
─•~❉᯽❉~•─
Read Part 5 here.
This fanfic can also be found in Wattpad, along with other exclusive parts like playlists and pictures. Here's the link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/358573037-long-way-home
Happy reading! <3
─•~❉᯽❉~•─
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coolshadowtwins · 16 days
Text
I love the ways fanfiction gets around the problem of nicknames.
In canon, Zhou Zishu introduces himself under a fake name, Zhou Xu, so Wen Kexing calls him A-Xu for the rest of the series, even after learning that not actually his name. There’s so many Word Of Honor fanfics where it wouldn’t make sense for Zhou Zishu to use a fake name tho- be it a modern au, or just an au where he has nothing to hide- and then the author has to figure out what WKX is calling him now. A-Shu? It’s said the same, but does it work when you read it? Or do you make up a reason for the nickname?
There was one fanfic that I can’t remember anything else about where ZZS introduces himself with his actual name, and WKX is just like, “Hm…. I hear you, I do. But you’re so bendy that you remind me of catkins, so I’m just going to call you A-Xu!” (Xu is written with the character for catkins, for reference)
And don’t get me started with SVSSS lol. Every story where SY isn’t SQQ for whatever reason gets it’s own justification of why Binghe calls him Shizun. Off the top of my head, these range from “You have taught me so much more than my actual Shizun(SJ)” and “Wow, you taught me two (2) facts, and I think you’re neat. Shizun it is!”
And then there’s the modern ones where Shizun absolutely doesn’t make sense, since I’m pretty sure it’s an older term. A lot of fics get around this by having Binghe call him “laoshi”, meaning teacher, while some of them just go, “Yeah, Binghe just decided one day that SY is Shizun, even though they are the same age in this au, and no one is able to get him to stop”.
As I write these out, I’m realizing that most of the Shizun problem is apparently just solved by Binghe deciding, “Hm… That one is Shizun shaped.”
In the same vein, Shang Qinghua calling MBJ “My King”, even in modern aus. Because what else would he call him??? His name???? Never. This one is funny, because unless MBJ is still royalty somehow, the authors I’ve read never addressed this. SQH just shows up one chapter, calling this random guy he may or may not be dating “My King”, and then leaving SY to his own devices with no explanation lol
Lesser issue is shixiong and Shidi. Mostly YQY? Because what should he call SJ other than Shen-Shidi, or Qingqiu-Shidi, when SJ inevitably yells at him for being called Xiao Jiu? This one does come up less, because of most modern aus I’ve read focused on Bingqiu, and so Qijiu were having a much better time than canon in the background, if they were even brought up lol
What are your stories about nicknames in fanfic lol
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camilaxmartin · 5 months
Note
Hi, could you write some x reader stuff for Vanessa/Vanny with a fem!i.t worker! Reader? Fellow x reader blog, like your acc
dating vanessa as an i.t. worker
i literally have no idea what i.t workers do as a job (i’m so sorry😭) so it’s straight up my imagination about that job, hope it’s alright!
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navigation // information // masterlist
summary: just a bunch of headcanons about getting into a relationship and then dating vanessa
warnings: none i think
notes: i’m so sorry it’s so short, my brain is kinda in a rot but i wanted to post this😭
requests: closed!!
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first of all i think you two would meet when one of the animatronics had some problems so she called for an i.t. worker and well there you were (let’s just pretend that animatronics don’t have children’s bodies inside of them for the sake of this fanfic)
when she opened the door for you she was literally speechless
you looked at her with a smile and she knew it was the end for her
after a moment of her collecting herself she finally let you in trying to hide how flustered she got
you decided not to say anything about her state and just walk by her with a small smirk forming on your face
when you got to the stage room and started repairing the animatronic that broke she stood right before you watching you all. the. time. and i mean like all the time
finally when you’re done, she gave a small smile and a lot of thank yous, which you just gave her a big smile in return
after that, she decided to call you more often, just about stupid incidents, like when a camera didn’t connect with the computer or when something was wrong with cables from animatronics
every time she’d greet you with a smile from ear to ear and something along the lines of “i didn’t know how to repair it so i decided to call you” or “i didn’t want to make the situation worse so i just called you” you loved every one of the excuses she made
every time you were at the pizzeria, she was casually walking beside you or standing there, and just casually and of course accidentally touching your back or your shoulder
there was one time when she actually accidentally touched your hand and she freaked out about it, and you couldn’t hold your laugh at her response
she apologised immediately and you couldn’t imagine a cuter sight right in front of your eyes
you grabbed her hand with yours and told her that it’s okay and you wouldn’t even mind holding her hand
to say her smile widened would be an understatement, her smile almost exploded
she squeezed your hand with hers and gave you a calmer smile while looking into your eyes and saying something like “i’ll keep that in mind” giving your hand another squeeze
next time after that, when you showed up at the restaurant, she was waiting on you being noticeably nervous but you decided to ignore that
when you got to the camera room cause supposedly the problem was there you noticed a single rose laying on cameras with a note saying ‘there isn’t any problem today, just wanted to spend my time with you, while your office thinks you’re working’
you smiled at the note and immediately went out of the cameras room to find her, she was standing in the stage room definitely waiting for you to come to her
when she noticed you, she turned around to face you and let’s just say she was a bit more than surprised when you walked over and hugged her, holding the rose she’d leave you
that night, you two spend mostly on talking about everything and nothing, while laying on some tables in the stage room, pretending to be looking at the stars while in reality you were just straight up starring at the ceiling
when it was your time to go back to your office, she had the biggest pout on her face that you’ve ever seen in your life
you chuckled and while standing at the door you quickly walked up to her and gave her cheek a kiss, whispering about waiting for another thing to broke down
she was speechless at first, but when she finally came back to earth she smiled dumbly at you and promised to call whenever anything happens
as if you didn’t already know that she would
finally, when you’ve been there for about a thousand time, she finally got the courage to ask you out on a date
you obviously said yes, with a huge smile
let’s just say the date went incredibly well and it was followed by many more dates
her favourite must have been the oceanarium one, on which you both seen so many animals you haven’t heard before and then got matching shark plushies
before you stared dating she started showing up at your work, just casually brining you lunch and sometimes wearing a very different outfit to her working one
all of your coworkers were jealous of your “soon to be” girlfriend
before you guys talked about the big question of being in a relationship, she had to tell you about something important
she invited you to her apartment and told you about the whole vanny thing with her personality
of course you were supportive and assured her it didn’t change anything in the way you viewed her
she looked at you with tears in her eyes cause, let’s be honest, a conversation like that wouldn’t be an easy one for our girl and smiled at you with the most sincere smile you’ve ever seen
before you could’ve say anything else she grabbed the collar of your shirt and brought you in for a kiss
you happily kissed her back and even turned it into a more heated one
let’s just say after that, it was very, painfully obvious you two were a lot into each other
soo, after the kiss you two decided to officially be together
vanessa planned a picnic date to ask you to date her once again, more officially
you just laughed at it all and agreed to, once again, be her girlfriend
much didn’t change after that, she was still calling you to the pizzeria for stupid stuff but decided to only call when something was really wrong, not to bother you at work when she could’ve have you all to herself after work
you didn’t mind her calls but the thought that she stopped calling you for silly stuff and going all lovely on you after work was somehow melting your heart
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brisquad-unit-4402 · 1 year
Note
Hello it’s me again! It’s been a while, I hope you’ve been doing okay. I recently have been reading through a lot of angst to comfort and I have an idea for a request!
May I request an Ike fic where reader is a liver in NIJISANJI and has a crush on Ike but knows they have no chance with him. Then one day reader accidentally spills their feelings to Ike and Ike comforts them after hearing about readers feelings?
I hope you’re not tired of me requesting Ike fics (ily him to much) and I hope you have a good day/night! <3
-🖋️
stars above your skin
oh 🖋 we're really in it now
how long have i had this request in my inbox? early march? and now exactly one day after blue light dropped, i give you a ~19.5k word ike fic. much love and effort has gone into this one, only seconded by the massive amounts of brainrot.
so yeah, i'm not tired of ike requests. i'm literally a quilldren that writes fanfic. this is the opposite of a problem
in fact this might be one of my favorite things i've written... the second half is such a good bedtime story for me...!
this is going to get NASTY to read on tumblr—as in my site is lagging so hard just typing these a/n notes. so i'm going to remind you all that not only is liking/reblogging recommended to keep track of this fic, but also that i have an ao3 account (same name as url but without dashsince it's much more accessible than tumblr for long fic. i recommend reading on tumblr if you can because of some formatting but to each their own!
here’s a funny story about this fic. i was working on it while a bunch of people sat behind me, you see, and one of my greatest irrational fears is that people sitting behind me will be able to see my laptop screen and laugh at what i’m writing…! and with these requests i usually title them the fandom name and my name, and a short phrase about the request, and this one was “workplace romance”, and i just got so afraid right then and there i changed it to the first thing i could think of, based off a clip i saw of pomu, selen, aia and doppio…!! and that’s why the wip doc is titled “nijisanji 4402 - pliskin”, and why i will always refer to this fic as "pliskin" much more than the actual title
by the way here’s a cover of iris that was pretty fitting for this fic. you’ll know when to play it. enjoy
tags: hurt/comfort, reader is a niji vtuber, gender neutral reader, off-collab, mutual pining, misunderstandings, fluff, angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers, cuddling, everyone in niji is your wingman, implied uki/ren if you squint but it’s mostly because uki will flirt with 80% of the men in this company
cameos: aia amare, alban knox, mika melatika, nina kosaka, ren zotto, uki violeta, vox akuma, fulgur ovid (mentioned)
⚠️ drinking/alcohol (unspecified if reader drinks alcohol)
⚠️ horror/gore mentions (non-detailed), out of context outlast spoilers i guess?
author's commentary here (spoilers) ↣
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
There are dozens of these videos on YouTube, and never have you come across the same one twice. You would know. You have a bad habit of clicking on them. 
After all, they’re labeled with your name on them, and right next to it, Ike Eveland. You are smart enough to recognize it’s not worth your time and just another compilation of the same moments and fans trying to make a mountain out of a molehill, but your heart says otherwise. To be fair, the compilations were a much more recent development than the one you hid under lock and key. 
When you first joined Nijisanji, some of your senpais sent you messages full of greetings and offers to help you get on your feet as a streamer. Ike was one of those senpais, and whenever you popped into voice calls just to hang out, he was easy to talk to, like an old friend. Naturally, a fast friendship formed, and when you debuted, he was one of the first people you collabed with- and the one with the best reception. Your new fans (‘Bookworms,’ they called themselves, after your name Reader) loved how well your humor bounced off each other, and when weeks passed and you announced another collab on your schedule with Ike, your Bookworms rejoiced. 
Even when you weren’t working, you would still talk to him. He told you about his homeland in the past and his novels, both released and unpublished. He was a storyteller even when he was talking about something as minute as making a sandwich, and whenever you brought up your past and interests, he was an excellent listener. You had your differences, but he always knew what questions to ask so he could understand you better, and you loved the opportunity to ramble. 
It had been nearly three months since you debuted, and four if you count the day you were officially hired and began to build yourself as a streamer. Whenever you look at the endlessly long text history between you and Ike, you have to wonder: is it normal to feel so connected to someone you’ve only known for three-maybe-four months? 
You’re not an idiot. You aren’t about to say Ike is the most important thing in the world to you, but he gets pretty damn close. That terrifies you. You shouldn’t be so attached to someone you barely know. 
But then again, you trust Ike. He’s opened up to you about things he would never say to others, and he keeps your secrets buried in the grave. You’ve lost count of how much advice he’s given you, but you’ve never forgotten a single one, and whenever you feel lost about something you know you can count on him to help you out. 
You grimace, sip out of your drinking glass, and press ‘play’ on the next compilation. 
A cute intro plays with the clipper’s name. Above it are the words Pen and Paper, surrounded by puffy pink hearts. 
That was the duo name between you and Ike, but "ship name" was more accurate among fanwork.
You weren’t exactly unaware about it. Weeks ago, you were surfing Twitter and the site’s algorithm granted you your introduction into Pen and Paper. This was shortly after your first collab with Ike, and after you established your shipping rules with your audience (“I’m fine with anything, as long as the other liver is okay with it!”, you proclaimed, totally oblivious to how soon that would blow up in your face). The fanartist posted a messy black-and-white sketch, but you could make out the pattern of Ike’s scarf wrapped around you and him at the same time, forcing your bodies into close proximity with averted eyes and dusty blushes. 
You appreciated the fanartist’s passion and skill, but the thought of you and Ike as an item sunk in your chest like you swallowed a rock. You swiped past. You went back to your scrolling, found some good thumbnails, and retweeted some cute solo fanart, but before the week ended, you made a private account with a fake name and staked out the tags for Pen and Paper to follow that fanartist.
Damn fanartist. You tried to deny it, and told yourself that you followed their art because you liked the style. But their account was full of ship art, and when Twitter gave you similar users that all worked under the hashtag, you had to face facts. If you wanted to look at it optimistically, at least you figured it out early on before anything had the chance to sour while you were still blissfully ignorant of yourself; even then, that doesn’t make it any harder than it already is.
Besides all the texts, the meetings, the schedules and events, and then including the streams and collabs and the art and the fandom… 
“Why?” You ask out loud in the silence of your room. “Why did I have to fall for my coworker?”
And with audiences of over hundreds of people watching you fall for him, nonetheless!
It’s irritating. You have a job that keeps you motivated to work hard. It’s given you a dedicated fanbase, rare opportunities, and coworkers you all recognize as your friends. Really, finding someone to care for because of it should be a blessing, but it’s such a headache. What if your fanbases get jealous, or even worse, outright hate it? Would you be able to keep up a relationship when you and Ike are dedicated to your careers and streams? Why are you even thinking like this? You scold yourself. There’s no way this would ever work out. It’s all fantasy and smoke and mirrors, because fandoms love love. Shipping is never a reflection of the streamers, just the characters you play. You’re delusional if you think your stupid crush could actually go anywhere.
But fandoms love love. The only comfort you have is being able to pretend something could happen. The ship art is a lie, and so are the fanfics, and the clippers that tag their videos as Pen and Paper are just here for a possibility that never could happen.
The compilation is full of little hints and teases, and if you were being honest with yourself, most of it was more like two friends getting along than actual flirting. But you didn’t trust yourself to see your clumsiness for what it is when Ike’s little laughs are like music to your ears. 
Damage control, you tell yourself. It’s like studying how you play your favorite games. You can pinpoint where you stumble and leave yourself open for attack in Apex, Smash, even Crab Game, and then amend those mistakes the next time you pick up the game. Real life should be no different. Just stop acting so dorky all the time by finding moments of dork in your VODs and avoid them next time you talk to Ike.
This clip was from your second collab with Ike. Captions floated along the bottom of the screen. Ike's captions were in his signature blue.
IKE: You know, there’s a lot of content about us two as a duo.
READER: They call us Pen and Paper, right?
IKE: Yeah, my art tag is flooded with art of the both of us. 
READER: Oh my God, look at the chat. Mine’s full of people saying they love us together. 
IKE: Aww, thanks, Quilldren! I’m happy I can play with Reader too. 
READER: Thank you, Bookworms; thank you, Quilldren. Hey, there’s a lot more overlap than I expected.
IKE: They’re like Bookdren.
READER: Or Quillworms.
IKE: Quillworms, that sounds way better. They’re like our children.
READER: www
IKE: www
Never fucking mind about acting so dorky all the time. You kick yourself for bringing up Pen and Paper, and your giggly laugh. You hate it. A neon sign above your head that says “SIMP” would be less obvious than that stupid schoolkid laugh.
But Ike’s laughter is music, back in the moment and now as you revisit it, and his model’s eyes squint with a wide smile.
He really is an amazing man. If you didn’t know him as well as you do, you’d think he’s perfect. But you’ve seen him in moments of vulnerability, the parts of himself that never shows through on stream and even rarer among his friends. Through it all he manages to keep going, and you admire him so much for sticking to his guns even when he’s expressed all his doubts about himself. The fact that he trusts you enough to let his guard down only adds to how honored you are to know him, and at the same time, the fact that there’s so much trust between you two just makes you feel worse for having a crush on him. You hate keeping secrets like this when you let Ike read you like an open book for everything else, and even just wishing you were something more to him feels like a betrayal of all that trust. You wish you could just be satisfied to know him.
The compilation continues. The next clip is a totsu Fall Guys collab hosted by Fulgur Ovid that you and Ike joined in on. Fuuchan got eliminated early in the match, and spectated on you while the other livers ran around Roll On with players tugging them this way and that. 
You moved around the rotating levels at the perfect sweet spot between two rings, and balanced at the top of the roll as the slime level slowly rose.
A longer wall approached, so you shuffled from one level to another, but another player grabbed your bean avatar and dragged you along to the wall even as you yelled out in panic on Discord. You smashed your keys to struggle, but they had an advantage, and it was clear the wall would push you down to the slime for an impending elimination.
That is, until a familiar Miku bean grabbed the other side of your avatar, and pulled the other way towards the ring that would save your life. Resigned, your attacker backed off and barely dodged out of the way while Ike’s Miku bean brought you back to safety.
The other two livers in the game were too noisy to notice you. Fuuchan was commentating every move you made, and when Ike saved you, he said, “Ike coming in clutch, let’s fucking go.”
Your recorded self didn’t hear him at all, though. You swooned, “Ike, my hero!”
Meanwhile in the present, you wanted to puke. You meant for that to sound like an over-the-top joke, but you crush is getting so serious that it sounds less like a bit and more like how you gush about him in private. 
At least Fuuchan’s audio was louder than everyone else, since he was the host, and the other two livers were preoccupied with their own game to notice your lovey-dovey tone and how Ike laughed music at you. It was bad enough clippers transcribed your words in captions, but you weren’t sure how you would handle it if those three picked up on you and your dumb crush. The less that know about your workplace romance, the better.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
“Reader,” Aia coos. Even with audio only, you could tell her eyes were sparkling. “You didn’t tell me you had a workplace romance!”
Well, so much for that plan. You froze over. “Who told you that?”
Mika answers way too quickly. “It’s Alban’s fault.”
“Fuck off, Mika, you brought it up first!”
“You said it though!”
Man, you were already starting to regret joining VC today. You finished your offline work a lot faster than expected, so when you realized that three of your close friends in the company were all online in VC together while Alban privately streamed a rhythm game, you figured you would join the call while you prepared dinner. 
But if that was your greeting, you needed to mentally prepare for the wild interrogation you were about to experience. At least Aia, despite her love for drama, knew how to navigate these sorts of things delicately. And you don’t mean to call Mika and Alban bad friends—they were the exact opposite, in fact—but they were much nosier than Aia ever came across.
“Okay, but Reader just asked who leaked it, and didn’t deny it,” Aia says. “So that means it must be true!”
Scratch that. Aia is the worst out of all of them.
“I hate you guys. No hello or anything, just gossip about my love life,” you lament.
She gasps, and if her eyes were sparkling before, then roses bloomed around her as she spoke. “It’s love?”
Mika shrieks like a banshee. “Oh hell no, you’re in love and you didn’t tell us?!”
“It’s not love. It’s nothing!”
“Nah-uh, Reader, no running away from it, we know,” Alban says. “Better to just get it all out in the open than pretend like nothing’s up.”
“You’re just saying that because you want to snoop.”
“I’m being serious. Keeping stuff bottled up deteriorates you, especially when love’s involved.” He missed a note. “Shit. And yeah, okay, I want some gossip, but I have a point and you know it.”
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck you, I blew a full combo just to say that!”
“Can I add? In case you forgot, Reader, we’re all in the same company,” Mika says. “Sure, I might be in a different branch, but who knows? Maybe we can help.”
“And fuck you too.” You sigh in defeat. As vitriolic as your shared humor was, these three were still some of your best friends, and you know they don’t mean any harm. “Ugh, I hate this. This is confidential information. Like, CIA levels of confidential. If I tell you guys, you can’t tell a single soul about it. Understand?”
The three all chime in agreement. And unfortunately, you trust them. You take advantage of your coworkers swearing themselves to secrecy to hype yourself up and just rip off the band-aid. “It’s Ike.”
“We know.”
“What the hell do you mean, you know?!”
“It’s obvious,” Aia says. Your heart hammers in your chest. Then she sputters for a moment, like she realized she might’ve hit a soft spot. “Well, you have to focus on it to see it, but once you see it, it’s hard to ignore. You two go well together.”
Alban pitches in. “Agreed. I’m not even gonna be subtle about it, you and Ike have great chemistry. I’m happy for you two.”
“Okay, I guess.” Your eyes drift away from your prepared ingredients to the corner of your kitchen. “But I don’t know. Are you sure? Because I feel like I always act like an idiot whenever I’m around him. And I doubt he’d ever feel the same way.”
“Wait.” Aia pauses. “You’re… not dating?”
“No. Just a crush. Not love, not dating, nothing. And it’s never going to be anything more than that because it’s just a big stupid crush on my coworker, who doesn’t even live close enough to visit, and this is all a recipe for disaster.”
She doesn’t say anything about that. Actually, none of them do. Even Alban pressed pause on his game, and the Discord stream went motionless as your words sunk in. 
Mika is the one to break the silence. “You’re shitting me.”
“That’s the truth. Happy?”
“No, like, you’re shitting me, there’s no way.”
“Mikaaa.” Alban drags out her name as he scolds her. 
“Hey, I’m just saying, that’s crazy, especially since—“
“Don’t tell Reader that!”
“Tell me what?” 
“We thought you were already a thing. You know, dating, in a relationship, whatever,” Mika clarifies. It hits you like a punch to the gut. “Or at least that you had something going on, and kept it secret so it wouldn’t be awkward for everyone else to work with you two. Which, by the way, we’re all chill with, so if, hypothetically, you decided to hypothetically go for it, we would hypothetically cheer you on and set off hypothetical fireworks. I’d rent a food truck.”
Alban resumes his game. “Yeah, what she said. Go get that hypothetical novelist bussy.”
“Don’t hypothetically talk about my brother like that.”
“You’re sure this is okay?” You ask. “Mika, I know you and Ike are close. This isn’t going to make anything weird, is it?”
“You’re fine, Reader. If I had problems, I would’ve cornered you and threatened you over text ages ago when I figured it out.”
“That’s another thing. How did you guys know?”
Aia pipes up first. “I know I said it was obvious, but I think that’s just because we know each other since we’re good friends. You two just go together, you know? It’s hard to explain, but whenever Reader and Ike-senpai are in the same room you think, ‘those two would be cute,’ and then you realize they are cute, right there in the moment. And you talk a lot faster on stream whenever you’re both on the same page. Almost as fast as me.”
 “Plus, it’s really common to see both of you on VC at the same time, and you’re always happy whenever he shows up,” Mika affirms. “Alban says whenever one of you enters the call the other is soon to follow.” 
“It’s true. You talk fast whenever you talk to him on VC too, not just stream. And your laugh kind of changes?”
“Dammit, I knew my laugh was my tell. This sucks. This seriously sucks.”
“It might not be all that bad,” Mika says. “Who knows, maybe things might end up better than you expect. You should tell him.”
“No way,” you fire back. “There no way he’d actually reciprocate. And I know you guys are fine with me asking, but Ike himself is just going to reject me, and it’s going to be awkward, and literally everyone in the company who has ever talked to us will be able to tell something’s up.”
“They won’t be weird,” Aia insists. “We won’t, either, and Ike-senpai is a good guy. Even if it doesn’t work out, he wouldn’t leave you out to dry like that.”
“You don’t know. None of you have ever been in this situation.”
“That’s true, but there’s always a chance.”
“If you ask me, it sounds more like you’re afraid of what you think would happen instead of what rationally would,” Alban says. He’s still laser-focused on his game. “I dunno. If you’re really set on getting over it, then go ahead and ignore it, but that’s just going to eat at you for who knows how long before your crush starts to fade.”
“Well, I didn’t ask.”
“Fine. Forget I said anything.”
You regret the acidic tone in your voice the second you said it, but Alban was off in his own world of music. He’d tell you if he had a problem with how you spoke to him, but you still feel gross about your knee-jerk reaction. 
You’re just… defensive. Yep, that’s the word. Whenever you’re this interested in someone, you put your walls up and protect yourself from letting anyone worm through and hit a weak point. 
Aia hums like an analyst. “Just keep it in mind, Reader. Not everything is out to get you.”
You know your friends just wanted the best for you, but things just aren’t as simple as they’d like to imagine it. It’s none of their business, anyways. It was pure coincidence that they figured out your thoughts on Ike, and that means none of them have any real authority to advise you on your love life.
“I think we’re done talking about this,” you assert.
“Well, you heard ‘em. Pack it up, show’s over.” Mika changed the subject. “Hey, did you guys know if you try to break open a freshly boiled egg, it explodes?”
Alban slams his hands on his keyboard so loudly that you hear the switches over his noise suppression. The stream goes from a string of Awesome! notes to nothing but misses as he abandons the game. “YES. Yes, actually, I DO know.”
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
“MEAT! WANTS MEAT! WANTS MEAT! MEAT!”
“AAAAAAAAHHHH!”
The stream is to the birds. Fuck that noise. Godspeed to the Bookworms, they’ll need it, but not nearly as much as you. 
When you were settling on a schedule, the last undecided spot for the week was Friday’s stream. That simply wouldn’t do. Friday nights kick off the weekend, and the break from school and work is prime time for a wide audience, so pretty much everyone in Nijisanji reserves their juiciest streams for the weekend. You’re no exception.
…Except for the fact that you didn’t have a clue about what to do for Friday’s stream. One Twitter poll and conveniently timed Steam sale later, you published your schedule with a game your fans voted on: Outlast.
You walked in knowing it would be a horror game, and you figured it would be fine. After all, you’ve played games from Chilla’s Art before, and a few quirky indie psychological releases here and there. You wouldn’t call yourself a stone-faced horror lover that can keep a straight face at anything, but aside from a few creepy moments in those game, you’ve kept your cool relatively well. 
Outlast threw all that out the window. You realized almost immediately that you had no idea how to handle the primal fear of the chase. 
Footsteps pound against a metal floor. You plead for help in the emptiness of your home as you smash the controls, as if that would make your character move the cabinet over the door any faster. Screams resonate in tune between you and the chained man in the room with you, and all the while, the howling of your pursuer grows louder and louder as he gets closer.
You finally uncover the door and dash through. Tremors run though all your thoughts while your heart beats overtime. 
You still haven’t gotten used to all the jumpscares, even though you’re at the edge of your seat and ready to start running yourself. A fork in the road approaches, and when you start off one direction, you’re greeted by a bloodied man in the distance. “AAAHH!”
Faster than light, you slam the key to the other hall and book it. You spot a new storage container to shove in front of the door just in time for text to appear on the screen: Look for pushable objects to block doors.
“No shit, why wouldn’t you tell me that before, oh my God, aaaaah!” The screams—from both the voice actors and your own cries—grate against your eardrums while chase music thunders in-between the gasps for air. 
As you grab the container and start to push, you mash the pause button. When the menu appears, you lean back in your chair and run your hands over your face. Your model pouts cutely while the real you whimpers. The mic barely picks it up.
You take a breath before groaning in fear and pain. “Guys. I don’t think I can do this…” Another groan as you trail off. “This game is so much. Give me a second.”
As you raise yourself back from your chair, it’s with a slump forward. Your chat is full of headpat emotes and hearts in your color, along with some quick words of courage. A few are recommending you take a break. “Thanks, Bookworms. I’m so afraid, but I’m committed and I don’t want to just leave it here.”
Your eyes flutter closed as you take a sip of water to clear your head. The cold drink startles you out of the dingy asylum atmosphere, but the screaming still lingers between your ears. “You know what? Who else is online right now? Maybe I need someone in VC to hold me to this.”
The emojis in chat slowly patter out as your viewers go back to text. Looks like most of your Bookworms like the idea of calling someone else while you stream the game. Some of their messages catch your eye. 
gatamiizuus: you can call ike :ReaderHeadpat: 
messXed-up!: ike!!
lunasmortas: what about ike?
A few more chats mention Ike, and while usually you’d be irritated they mentioned another liver out of the blue, your shoulders still relax at the sight of his name. “Wait, Ike? Is Ike here?”
You scroll back in the chat history, and search for any mod messages. Sure enough, barely a minute ago while you were still being chased:
Ike Eveland 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : GANBARE!
You cling onto that message like a lifeline. Ike is familiar. Ike is comforting. And most importantly, Ike would never call you a pussy.
Chat floods over with his name while you check the official Nijisanji Discord server. Almost everyone in Nijisanji sets their status to offline by default, and Ike is one of them, but you still scan through the member list anyways, praying a little green indicator will light up by his icon.
His status doesn’t change, but before you can even click on his profile, your Direct Messages tab gains a notification. He just messaged you.
Ike Eveland: Watching your stream right now
Ike Eveland: Are you okay?
You exhale. Ike is the most dependable guy you know, even when it’s pure coincidence he was watching your stream while you freaked out. 
With your heart still in your throat, you respond.
Me: uuuuuuugh i guess
Me: the game is really scary
Me: i don’t want to cancel the stream but i don’t think i can play it by myself 😭
Ike Eveland: 🫂    | 🫂 1 |
Ike Eveland: Would you feel better if I called you?
Me: i was just about to ask    | 👌 1 |
Me: you don’t have to if you don’t want to tho!! i don’t want to be a nuisance lol
Ike Eveland: Don’t worry I offered to!
Ike Eveland started a voice call.
“Ikeee!” The second the call starts, all your restraint goes forgotten. “Ike, I was so scared!”
You babble on about everything you’ve endured up to this point: the gore, the grime, and the patients in the asylum that hunt you like animals. 
 “I’m here, it’s alright now,” he assures you. “I’m here, okay? Take your time, you’re safe.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m relieved. But it was so scary.” You sink and bury yourself in the collar of your shirt. “You’ve streamed this before, and kept a cool head the entire time, right? How do you do it?”
“Well, it wasn’t my first time playing, for starters. Everyone gets freaked out at first. It’s a horror game, Reader, it’s okay to react to it. I remember the first time I played it, it scared me so bad I had to quit after half an hour.” He giggles a bit at himself. The sound is comforting. “That was a few years ago. I think I had nightmares about it, until I realized I needed to know the rest of the story. ”
Your voice is small. “That was really brave of you.”
“I avoided it for days. I doubt that’s brave.”
“It’s braver than calling someone just to get the guts to play the game.”
“Hey, don’t put my friend Reader down just to bring me up.” He keeps his tone light to let you know you’re allowed to smile. “Being able to face your fears is plenty on its own, and you shouldn’t be devaluing that. How long have you been at it?”
“A little over two hours?” You glance at the stream monitor, and ignore the chat as much as you can. You still register the hearts in your color and his signature blue. “I don’t know. I did a lot of pausing, too, so it’s probably less than that…”
“But you were still able to stream for that long. Remember, I could only play for thirty minutes during my first time! You’re stronger than you think you are.”
You avert your eyes from your stream setup. You feel painfully seen, but the chat is nothing to you. “Doesn’t feel like it.”
“Then I’ll be here to remind you. Is that okay?”
“I’d like that.” You return to the screen, and in the darkness of the blurred labyrinth, you see your reflection stare back. Your hair is disheveled from how you kept thrashing around in reaction to the game and your shoulders are high with tension, but only now did you realize how the corners of your lips rose after the call started. Ike really got to you. “Thank you, Ike, you’re so considerate. I appreciate you a lot. You’re a really good guy.”
He chuckles slowly, soft like a blanket. Your shoulders ease. Ike’s words are just as soft, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s nervous too. “Haha, um. Yeah. Thank you?” He doesn’t take compliments well, but they’re true, and you hope he knows it as well as you do. He clears his throat. “Ahem. Um, how are you feeling?”
“Not great, but better. I want to try again.”
“You’ve got this, Reader, you can do it.” Ike is still quiet, but enthusiastic. “You can do it!”
You go shaky. “Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay.”
But you still press Return To Game.
And when you scream barely five seconds later, Ike is still calm, and you hone in on his voice as you persevere.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Just as you go to bed, you realize that you basically just made a fool of yourself in front of your crush by getting scared at a game he’s already conquered. 
You slam a pillow over your face and groan.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Ike lands an all-out attack just in time to check the chat and the swarm of viewers that just joined. “Oh, Reader! Thank you for the raid, it’s good to see you! Welcome, everybody.”
Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : take care of my bookworms for me? i’m getting milk
“Of course. They’re our Quillworms, after all.” You go fuzzy. He remembered the fan name! “Have a good break, Reader! Rest well.”
Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : 👍
It was the end of the week, and the stream you just finished was the last on your schedule. You announced a few days ago that you would take a break for a little more than two weeks so you could catch up on offline work as well as rest, and the Bookworms sent you off with a lot of love. It’ll be hard for some of your diehard fans, but you’re sure they’ll manage. You have a feeling it’ll be easier than they expect. 
“Speaking of breaks, I haven’t finished my schedule yet. I think I’ll wait a day or two to post it.” The stream cracks in red and black as Ike’s party in Persona 5 Royal clobbers the enemy Shadows. Monsters bleed out behind the protagonist’s cocky smirk. “I’ll be offline for the next two days, so I’ll have some time to think about it.”
Ike mashes through the battle results, and sets back off into exploring the palace. His stream fades into background noise as you get back to the task at hand. 
You sent a few messages to some of your other coworkers regarding your break. Next was finishing some paperwork for management, and reaching out to others that needed access to the files. Sure, your time off was for offline work, but the work you had to get done would only take an afternoon at most. You wanted to meet even the far-off deadlines as soon as possible so you could be properly free for the rest of your vacation.
By the time you finished your paperwork, your coworkers were able to respond to you. A group chat full of other livers had a new response every minute about the next two weeks, and Aia sent you a QR code that would let you save some time and money on your flight. 
Ike ended yet another super-long P5R stream just a few minutes after you grabbed all your luggage, got to the airport, and made it to your terminal. You had some time to kill, but you were sick of the headphones over your ears.
Not to mention, you were waiting for the fans to catch up on the real reason why you were on break.
Curiously, you log into your private Twitter—you don’t plan to interact with anything but you’re always paranoid about your online presence—and start searching for the code words fans think Vtubers have no idea about. Symbols replace letters and names morph into sounds while emojis speak volumes.  
The Stargazers don’t mention it at all. That’s to be expected, after all. Their oshi goes on break often, so nothing seems too out of the ordinary. Besides, you wouldn’t put it past them to have even more intricate subtweets than what you’re looking for.
Only a few of Nina’s Honeybunnies put the pieces together at first, but then you check Quilldren subtweets. As it turns out, when Ike mentioned he’d be taking a few days off, a few of his fans noticed how Nina was going to be offline at the same time, and a smaller fraction of those compared how Mika had yet to release a schedule. 
Underneath your face mask, you smile. With the career being dependent on both anonymity and your voice, you wore a nondescript black mask through the entire airport in case someone recognized you, just as well as to hide the tiny giggle that always bubbles up whenever you watch your fans scramble around theorizing. They don’t have all the pieces, after all. None of the Aiadmirers nor the Renvaders even considered it.
They’ll figure it out in time nonetheless. Uki and Nina are close to landing, and Aia was the first to disembark her plane. The rest of your friends are set to arrive after you, and besides, Vox should be ending his last stream of the week right now. You’re sure the Kindred will start plotting in the next hour, provided their oshi didn’t give them too big of a hint about his plans for the next week as he’s known to do.
You board your plane and settle into your seat, ready to nap the flight away. You’ll need the rest, after all. It’s about time you join an off-collab.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Nina doesn’t even get the chance to look away from her phone before she gets a rush of replies on her first voice tweet.
She doesn’t bother to read them anyways. She’s too busy howling out the lyrics to “Wannabe.”
It’ll be hard to discern all the voices. Ike’s high range is always easy to pick out, but Vox blends in as a bass, and you can always hear Mika’s grin through her singing. Ren and Aia are the furthest from the phone, and as loud as they sing, they’re still drowned out along with you, Uki, and Nina herself.
Mika chooses the wrong time to look around the karaoke booth. While Aia sings passionately about what she wants (what she really, really wants), her body language crumples and rises like an electrocuted high school theater kid. The ghost has a hiccuping, sweeping laugh that overpowers half of the singers, and then Aia snorts at herself when Mika covers her mouth, which gets Vox to snort even louder, and before you know it, it’s just Uki and Nina doing their damndest not to break. Even then, Nina’s voice wavers along to the Spice Girls as she resists a laugh, and Uki’s eyes are squeezed shut smiling.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
The bar stool slides out from the counter so quietly that you wonder if the Airbnb owner knew just how handy it would be for a house full of streamers on vacation. You lean forward while Mika tells a story about how she, Aia, Ren and you went out for a coffee run, and crossed paths with some teenagers with matching Iluna keychains on their backpacks. 
Speaking of Iluna, their represents sat together on the couch. Aia set her plate and fork on the coffee table, not a single pool of sauce left over from the pasta dinner Vox and Uki prepared together. Somehow Ren made enough room in his luggage to bring along a teal ukulele, and idly strums along. Uki sits between Ren and the armrest, swirling the last of his pasta between his fork.
Across from them, Vox and Nina took ownership of two plush chairs that could only fit one person each. Each chair was next to a corner table, and they stacked their plates on top of one another to make room for a jug of orange juice and two cocktail glasses. Ike took a bottle of rum and poured it into his soda, then slid it back to the corner table before pulling up the bar stool next to you. 
“It was like, one of them had a clear phone case and held it out to show the others a video,” Mika says. She perched on top of the counter itself, next to her travel microphone and the second-nastiest kitchen stream setup you’ve ever seen. She was no Scarle, but so many wires stretched across the island and along the way that it was just easier for her to climb onto the polished granite to keep an eye on the chat. “Smack-dab in the center was a PNG of Vox. And then a bunch of tinier Voxes around it. And here’s how you know it’s bad, you could see the color of the phone itself through the case because it’s clear, right? It was red. Red! That’s commitment!”
“I’m telling you, Mika, there’s no way they got a red phone just because of Vox,” Aia says. “That’s got to be a coincidence.”
Vox hums into his glass. “No, they absolutely did. You mean to tell me your fans don’t spoil you rotten and buy new phones just because they’re your color?”
“My color is white, Vox, like every phone ever is my color!”
“Still, I’ve never seen Aia go so quiet so fast.” Ren’s ukulele twangs as he grins. His fangs were just as prominent in real life. “It was awesome.”
“It was scary, but funny,” you say. “We saw the Vox case and the Iluna keychains, and all of us just went silent. And we all had masks, too, so it was like, one moment you could hear Ren’s fuckboy laugh, and the second we saw the case, we all put up our masks and went quieter than the grave.”
Ren palms the neck of the ukulele and mutes the chord in mock offense. “Hey! I’m not a fuckboy!”
“Didn’t say you were, but if you want to out yourself like that, be my guest. They’d chop off your horns and sell them like Kyo.”
“One of them had an Aster keychain.” Ren bitterly resumes playing. Uki sets his plate on the table and drapes himself over the alien’s shoulder as he opened up his phone to check the off-collab’s live tag. The stream was supposed to be a live Q&A, but was so easy to talk to everyone that the questions often turned into conversation before someone remembered the stream. “If Aia or I said anything, we’d be fucked.”
“Imagine how fucked we would’ve been if Vox woke up in time to go with us,” you say.
Ike snickers. “Is it bad that I would’ve paid money to see that?”
The two Luxiem members get into a playful argument over who would win in a fight: all the effort Nijisanji and its employees put into protecting their privacy, or one silly phone case. Ren’s riffing turns into a simple rendition of “Iris” and Nina hums along from across the living room. The ukulele is slow and unique enough to not be mistaken for the original, but you wonder if those two would be able to avoid copyright entirely.
Nonetheless, the vibe is comfortable. You’re miles away from home, but in a room with some of your closest friends in the world, it’s like you never left. Truthfully, it’s more like you’ve finally found your place. The music just feels right, like it was written for this moment, and Aia leans back into the couch while Nina sways in her seat to the jaunty little ukulele. Ren looks as cheery as his instrument sounds, especially with a peaceful Uki nuzzled up to him. 
While Ike and Vox go at it, Mika props her chin up with both hands and watches them like a reality TV show. There’s a glint in Vox’s eyes as Ike drums up a snide response, the only sane man to the demon’s goofiness. He brings his rum and coke to his lips like punctuation, a silent so, what? hidden in the boozy soda. 
Vox knows how to run his mouth, and he launches into one of his patented anecdotes. While all eyes are on the demon and the chat hones in on his voice, you focus on how Ike tilts his head up to drink. His neck stretches out from the collar of his black band tee, and with each sip, his Adam’s apple bobs. 
You’ve always thought he was good-looking on stream, but he’s gorgeous in person, all long lines and graceful features, and cameras can’t capture the tiny little freckles drizzled down the back of his neck. You didn’t even know he had freckles. It was only after you saw him for the first time that you noticed pale, reddish dots all over his nose and cheeks, fading out by his temples and the arch of his lips. Spending the day walking around in the sun from place to place revealed more whenever the wind flicked his jacket collar out right. They scatter at his nape, right below the blue tips of his hair, and meet one another further down his back, or so you’d presume. Without the jacket, you can catch marks spread out along his arms with distance between one another, and his shirt sleeve starts right where the freckles cluster together. You can only imagine how far down they go.
You avert your eyes. You can’t think about what’s under the shirt when you’re sitting right next to him, and certainly not while on stream, even if chat can’t see you check him out!
Unfortunately, the side opposite of Ike is the one with Ren and Uki. Those two are idyllic. Without a care in the world, it seems. You envy how easily Uki can act on what he wants, even if you know he doesn’t see Ren like how you see Ike. Ren doesn’t mind it at all, either. He literally lives by the rhythm of his own ukulele. 
Ike lowers his drink with his eyes closed, as if it would make the refreshing feeling last longer. His eyelashes are the same ashen color as his hair. Gold gleams between his ears and on the chain of his glasses.
Possessed by the music, and distracted by the rambling, you become one with the background and lean along Ike’s arm.
It’s an indulgent dip into the waters, but shallow compared to all you feel for him. Ever since you met Ike in person it’s been easier to control yourself around him, and if anything, you’re reminded that this is the man you’ve gotten the closest to in both career and friendship. The only barrier between your cheek and his body is his shirt sleeve, but your arm rests against his forearm, right where the freckles taper off. There’s no resistance at all as you make yourself comfortable in the crook of his arm. 
But you hold yourself back. Even though the off-collab made you feel gutsier than before, you think that you’d pass out if you tried anything else. Besides, you feel so at peace against his arm, but too afraid to look up and see his reaction. 
The blend of peace and fear churns in your heart as it dawns on you: you were wrong to call this a crush. It runs far deeper than you could’ve imagined.
Vox says something with finality. His voice snaps you out of your thoughts, but the words go unregistered. As he spoke, his eyes drifted around with his body language, but he snaps to look at Ike expectantly. You swear his smirk gets a little more mischievous as he does. 
The air stills, even though you know eyes aren’t on you, just the man you lean on. It stays frozen as Ike waits to respond. You still don’t have the heart to look up at him and break your selfish, unrequited fantasy.
You just want to stay here, unresisted.
Ike deadpans. “Anyways.”
Just like that, the moment is over, and Mika laughing at Vox striking out clears the air around you. But Vox’s eyes fall to you for just a split second as he moves in his seat. Frost settles down your back at the thought that he knows, but there’s a solid chance he hasn’t connected the dots. You pray he hasn’t.
Then you see Fox Mom herself right behind him, and she shoots you a shit-eating grin with a hand over her heart and a glass in the other. 
No doubt about it. You’re screwed. 
The frost turns to glaciers and burns into hot shame all at once. You love Nina, you really do, and you’d always consider her a good friend before coworker. However, she’s known for fishing around for any crumb of fanservice, and she gets straight to the point whenever she eggs it on, not to mention how she loves to tease her kids on just about anything. You are never going to hear the end of this if she can help it.
You really don’t know what you expected. It feels like everyone’s staring at you, even the chat. You can’t help but feel bitter. How come Uki can flirt with as many guys as he wants, you wonder, but I can’t even touch Ike without getting eyed up? 
You know the answer, but it doesn’t do anything to help the bitterness and the embarrassment, and how much you want to hide. On instinct, you take advantage of the warmth and nestle yourself deeper into Ike to hide your face, just in time as he curls his head above yours.
Nina makes a sound kind of like a fork stuck in the garbage disposal for the briefest of moments before smashing her lips together and bringing her glass to her mouth like a mute button. As if you didn’t feel seen enough. 
“Find any other questions, Uki-senpai?” Aia’s nose is buried in her phone, and God, you could kiss her for changing the subject. As much as she poked fun about you about Ike, she was still a total angel and a ride-or-die all at once. 
“Oh, I have questions,” Uki says. Luckily, he’s graceful enough to leave it at that. “Twitter wants to know first impressions for everyone that hasn’t off-collabed before.”
Ren speaks. “I think the only person I’ve done an off-collab with before is Nina, so is it cool if I go first?”
Aia gestures for him to go on. She’s still stuck on her phone as he continues.
Your phone vibrates in your pocket, but you ignore it. Then again and again and again, and when you finally check it, you understand why. When Aia, Mika and Alban first heard you spill your feelings for Ike, they made a group chat dedicated to wingmanning—or at least, that’s what they pitched it as. They tease you more than anything else, and as irritating as it gets… you have to admit, it’s nice to confide in them, and nice to know they wouldn’t hold it against you.
Anyways, Alban’s going apeshit. 
Group Chat: 💙 PENANDPAPER REAL 2K4EVER 💕 (4 Members)
Aia Amare: image.png    | 📌 2 |
Alban Knox: AKDHSLSJDKSHSA
Alban Knox: AASDFSDF
Alban Knox: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Alban Knox: AAAAAAAAAA
Alban Knox: HAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAA AAAAAAA KYAAAAAAAA
Alban Knox: 💕💕💕💙💕💙💕💙💙💙💕💙💕💕💙
Alban Knox: 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳
Alban Knox: HOW ARE YOU GUYSS NOT LOSING YUOR MINDSA BOUT THIS
Aia Amare: I AM
Me: omfg did you seriously get a picture of us 
Alban Knox: WHAT ARE YOU DOINGGGGGGG DONT CHDCK THIS GC    | 👆 1 |
Me: wtf did you expect you’re spamming 
Alban Knox: YOU AR ELITERALLY CUDDLNG GO FOCUS ON THAY JOT US
Me: we are not cuddling
Alban Knox: YOU ARE
Aia Amare: YOU ARE
Mika Melatika pinned a message.     | 🖕 1 |
Me: mika wth you too? 😭 
Mika Melatika: image.png
Me: did you srsly take a selfie with us in the background
Mika Melatika: YES this needs to be immortalized
Me: you people suck    | 🥰 3 |
Alban Knox: GET THAT NOVELIST BUSSY!!!!
Aia Amare: As if you aren’t about to save that picture yourself~
Alban Knox: NOVELUSSY!!!!!!!!!
Fuck, she got you there. You cast a pointed look at the angelic maiden herself, or at least as pointed as you can be with a man you’re scared to love wrapped around you. She looks as satisfied as a cat pushing a glass off a counter. 
You set your phone on ‘do not disturb’ and placed it behind you on the counter with a huff.
“Reader, honey, how about you?” Nina leans forward, half-lidded and as sultry as ever. She swirled her drink around in its glass. “It’s your first off-collab ever, right? I’d love to hear what you have to say.”
“Oh, well, um.” Your brain struggles to catch up. “First impressions, right…”
Aia slips you a thumbs up. You’re going to rip her a new one after this. Her, and Mika, and definitely Nina; this is the most subtle Nina’s ever been but you can tell she’s fishing for an answer here. You can take your friends figuring it out, embarrassing as it is, but you are not about to expose yourself to thousands of live viewers. 
“It’s kind of crazy actually meeting up with everyone,” you start. “I’ve known them for so long, but all online, and being able to match the voice to the face in real life, I don’t think I can actually describe it. It’s kind of surreal, but it feels so nice to just talk to them in person. Aia, Nina and Uki were the first people I met up with, and man, those three are a sight. I know everyone says it, but Uki is absolutely the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. Nina and Aia are really pretty, too. Hey, Aiadmirers, did you know when your oshi laughs, she looks just as cute as she sounds?”
Aia yells. “Reader, shut up!”
“Then stop being so cute all the time, you dork!” 
“I’m not a dork! I’m cool!”
You resume, satisfied with your revenge. “Mika and Vox are both really chill. They’re kind of quiet, so if you’re just walking by, you’d think they’re two normal people just going about their days. But whenever we talk it’s always something insane. Vox sounds like a dignified gentleman and Mika is kind of like that cool girl that you want to be friends with, but if you actually pay attention, Mika’s showing Vox a picture of her insides during surgery while he’s reciting something about the Bite of ‘87. And Ren is probably one of the most straightforward people you’ll ever see. He’s so optimistic, and really expressive, too, even though most of the expressions are all different types of smiles.”
“What’s your impression of Ike?” Nina asks.
What does she expect you to say to that one, that screens can’t capture how the sun glitters through his glassy green eyes? Hearing him say your name in-person sends shockwaves through your body? How you want to kiss every little freckle he’s never mentioned before and keeps hidden under long sleeves, even though it’s the beautiful skin he lives in daily?
“Same old Ike. He’s exactly like how I expected,” you say. A total fib. 
She cocks her head. “Really? Even after all the time you’ve spent together?”
“I’m trying to hang out with everyone.”
“You haven’t answered my question.”
Cornered. Nina takes a long, slow drink from her glass as you scramble for a quick answer that won’t immediately out you. “Whenever I talk to Ike, he’s really emotive. You can tell what he’s thinking before he says anything. He also has a good sense of style, so he’s fun to go shopping with, and honestly, fun to do anything with. He’s someone you can always have a good time with, and always makes you feel so comfortable around him. Ike’s magnetic.”
Mika muffles a coo behind you. You’re going to kill her if you survive this stream.
“That’s very sweet, Reader,” Nina replies. “Hear that, Ike?”
“Yes, I did.” He sounds strained.
“Got any feelings about it?”
“Yes? I mean—er, thanks?” You feel Ike’s head rustle. “I, umm. What am I supposed to say about that?”
“I don’t know. I just think that about you, that’s all…”
“Aww, cute. I love that you love each other,” Nina muses. 
Ike spits out, “It’s not like that!” Just as you admit, “Yeah, I guess so.”
You process his words too late, though, and even as you sputter the ukulele music cuts out just in time with Nina and Mika’s unfiltered fangirl squeals. Ren’s palms mute the chord as his eyes go wide. Aia is already on her phone with her jaw to the floor and Uki throws a look at Nina while he mouths, did that just happen? 
“I-I mean!” Your throat goes dry and Ike lurches away from you when Vox gleefully shakes Nina like a rag doll. “I—wh—Ike, I mean, of course I love you—“ Mika screams again— “As a friend!”
When you turn to face Ike, he’s curled up into a ball on the barstool with his shirt collar over his face. Even as you feel the blood rush to your face, you keep shouting. That’s all you have left. You’re live. “Like, we’re best friends on and off stream and I love you!”
He mutters something, but you can’t tell what. Only his neck and the tips of his ears poke out from his shirt. Were they always that red?
You repeat yourself. “I said, we’re best friends and I love you, so much!”
“And I said, I know, thank you, I love you too, Reader!” Ike jerks out to face you as he cries. He looks like a tomato. 
Then he buries his face into his hands and squeaks like how he always does when something’s too cute to handle, or he’s got too many emotions he needs to let out. “You can’t see me, I’m too embarrassed. I’m hiding forever and I’m never coming out.”
You hope the ground swallows you up and you never have to confront this moment again. 
Uki hisses under his breath and muffles Ren's ukulele. You don't know what he said, but you realize all too late that the alien prince himself was laying down the first few notes of “Fly Me To The Moon.”
While you slump and fold your arms over your face on the counter in pure embarrassment, Aia stands up and commandeers the mic. She slaps a hand over Mika’s mouth to muffle the scream. “Man, bummer that Ike-senpai is gone from us forever, but you know what else might be gone forever if you don’t get it now? The sponsor for this stream, our current limited-edition Nijisanji voice packs!”
And as much as you could kiss her yet again for changing the subject, you can’t get over how everything blew up in the last five minutes, and groan into your arms instead. 
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
The stream passed, luckily, without a hitch after that. No one asked any questions, but it was pretty damn clear everyone in the room had an idea of what just happened, and the impending shitstorm. In fact, it was so clear that when you stalked off to your room to sulk, no one made a fuss, and when you realized ten minutes into your sulking session that you left your phone on the counter, you figured it wasn’t worth it to show your face again until after you finished your pity party. 
The entire time, you laid in your bed with a pillow over your face so you could pretend like you were being absorbed into the sweet embrace of death. Overdramatic, sure, but you figured you were justified. 
Without your phone, you had no way to check exactly how bad the fallout was on Twitter. The poor Pen and Paper tags were sure to be flooded with fans imagining a happy ending to that stint you’d never be able to experience yourself, like salt in the wound. Not to mention, it was a huge seven-person off-collab! It didn’t just end with the Pen and Paper fans. No, it would extend past the Bookworms and the Quilldren, and certainly to the rest of the fandoms with an oshi in this Airbnb. Maybe even the offshoot viewers who don’t regularly watch your content, but made an exception for the off-collab, or, you know, the ones who have no idea who you or Ike are but can’t get enough of the whole accidental-confession-live-on-stream thing. Forget Nina; the entire Vtuber community is never, ever, ever going to live this down. 
Ike sounded so distraught, too. You wanted to kick yourself for it. Not only did you make a fool of yourself, but he got caught in the crossfire just because you didn’t catch yourself slipping. Not like he’d reciprocate anyways. He’s always been bad at taking compliments, but you keep thinking about how embarrassed he was about you loving him. 
All your frustration and humiliation coursed through the darkness under your pillow, and you stew so bitterly that you don’t even dream when you fall asleep. 
You just wake up groggy and exhausted, but too restless to go back to sleep. You look out the window, and the stars have barely come out to play in the early night sky. 
As much as you’d hate to admit it, that impromptu nap made you tired of brooding. Besides, you can’t hide from your friends forever. Hopelessly in love or not, they’re still your friends, and even if you decided to stream during the trip, this off-collab was always about spending time with them instead of worrying over your online presence. 
It takes you half an hour to hype yourself up, but eventually, you open your door and step out into the hall. 
You can already hear voices further away in the Airbnb. You place one of them as Nina, and after her, a baritone that could only belong to Vox. 
“…Fuck Twitter, they’re going to forget about it in two weeks or less anyways.” You overhear as you walk down the hall of rooms and closer to the living room. You’ve heard Vox passionate before, but never this serious as well. “Besides, what exactly did they say?”
A mumble. You can’t place the words, but you bristle when you recognize the voice. That’s unmistakably Ike. 
“See? Again, I’m so sorry. I was out of line, and I forgot my place. I shouldn’t have interrogated them like that,” Nina says. “But you’re overthinking what they said.”
Another mumble. By now, you’re in the kitchen. You lift your phone from where you left it, and hold your fingers over the half of the screen where your notifications appear as you check the time. It’s barely 11 PM. 
The kitchen and living room are connected, with plenty of seating space all around. That was why Mika’s travel laptop was still on the counter and plugged into the wall from the stream earlier, but on the other side of the wall from the kitchen, you noticed an open window and silhouettes from it. Four people sat on the shallow roof overlooking the uneven ground plenty of feet under the building. A pair of fox ears twitch at the night wind as they watched the stars grow brighter in the sky. 
You look through the fridge. You’re peckish, but if you were to be honest with yourself, you’re trying to stay quiet for a reason. 
There’s a huff. “Oh my god, dude. Just tell Reader already.”
You stand up a little straighter. Mika was with them? Were they talking about you?
“There’s nothing to be said, Mika!” Ike huffs back. “I’m screwed anyways. Just drop it, okay? I don’t need this getting in the way of what was supposed to be just a normal trip.”
“You can’t keep running away forever. Just act like an adult and tell them. It’s going to be fine, I swear.”
“And how exactly do you know that?”
“Well…” Mika trails off. “I can’t say. I just know, okay?”
“Uh-huh. And I know I’m screwed.” The wind rustles outside. You stay motionless. “Just two weeks. Can I please just have two weeks where I don’t have to worry about this until the trip is over.”
It’s a question, but he says it with such exasperation that no one can consider any other answers. 
“Fine.” Nina relinquishes. “Have it your way. I’m just worried for you two.”
“It’s going to work out, Ike. But I’m tired.” Vox stifles a yawn. “Tomorrow is going to be better. Let it go for the night and come back to it once you’re in better shape, and just remember. It’s going to work out.”
“Thanks, Vox.”
“Now get in here.”
You hear shuffling fabric before the two men start yelling. Vox cackles while Ike cries through gritted teeth. “Dang it, Vox, I’m going to shove you off this roof!”
“Get ruffled, idiot! That’s your fault for trusting me!”
“I just wanted a hug!”
You snicker under your breath. Vox loves to ruffle Ike’s hair despite the latter’s protests, though he tends to accept it instead of shove him off like anyone else that would dare. Besides, as dreary as Ike sounded during that conversation, he nearly sounded like his old self as Vox and the others laughed.
“I think I’ll go too. Mommy needs her beauty sleep.”
“Mm, I’m still pretty awake. Wanna keep looking at the sky with me, Ike?”
“Sure. Here, Nina, let me move out of the way…”
Shuffling turns to footsteps, and brings you back to reality. You busy yourself looking through the paltry groceries.
The sound of footsteps gets louder and louder, until they become a hollow click on the hardwood floor. Nina crawls through the window, but stops in her tracks with a startled noise.
You turn around and nod as casually as possible. “Oh, hey, Nina.”
Vox is also halfway through the window, and his eyes go comically wide as he forgets how to move. “Oh. Hey. Reader. Fancy seeing you here.”
“Yeah! Um!” Nina coughs long enough to make you uncomfortable. “What are you doing here?”
“Took a nap. Got hungry.” It’s not a lie. You grope around in the fridge and breathe a sigh of relief when you see a stick of string cheese in your hands. “You guys just hanging out?”
Nina nods. “Yeah, we were on the roof. It’s getting late, though. You should get some rest for tomorrow—“
Vox elbows her. “But not after looking at the sky for a little bit. It’s beautiful. Very clear. Romantic, even. The architects did a wonderful job placing this house right at the perfect angle to watch the stars rise. Did I mention it was romantic?”
You act natural and take a big bite out of the string cheese. “Once or twice. Is it the seniors’ bedtime?”
“You got me,” Vox says. 
“I love going to sleep early and giving my kids private time before bed to reflect and hold deep conversations with one another about their feelings,” Nina says. “And also nighttime face masks.”
“Woo, skincare, what she said.” 
“Hey, by the way, Reader, honey, did you hear anything we talked about?”
“No,” you lie.
“Cool,” Vox says. You eat the rest of the string cheese in one bite. “Good for you. And goodnight, Reader.” He dusts himself off before casting his golden gaze down at you. “Be nice, will you?”
Shivers go down your back. You have a feeling he’s referring to something unspoken. “I will.”
“That’s my sweet thing,” he purrs. “Anyways, I’m going the fuck to beddy bye. Honk shoo, Reader, don’t stay up too late.”
Vox struts off with dark hair flowing behind him and the scent of his aftershave in the air. He leaves you to stand awkwardly next to Nina. 
Suddenly, she takes you by your shoulders and forces you in front of her. You blurt out an unflattering startled noise before she gets right up in your face and stares dead into your eyes.  
“Please be good,” she says darkly. Was that a threat? “Please be so, so good to my baby.”
“I will,” you say, more out of fear than anything else.
She blinks once, then she’s back to the doting mother you know and love. She squeezes your shoulders. “Thank you, honey! Sweet dreams!”
And just like the Voice Demon before her, Nina bounds off to her room. 
Huh. That was weird. Nonetheless, you’re alone in the living room, and you can see the outline of Ike and Mika sitting on the roof in silence. 
You lightly knock on the side of the window. They both perk up at the sound. “Cool if I join you?”
Mika responds quickly. “Sure! Watch your step, Reader. The roof isn’t that steep but it would be awkward if you ate shit.”
“Agreed.” You step onto the tiling, and shift your body to match the angle. You feel like a newborn deer learning to walk. Luckily, Nina and Vox leaving meant that there was more than enough space for you right next to the window. 
Ike sits between you and Mika. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” 
“Yeah…” 
‘Pretty’ is putting it mildly. The stars are so clear tonight, and scatter across the sky like sequins. The Airbnb was located further away from the heart of the city, so the darkness only amplified how bright the stars shone against the stark night. A breeze drags through the air and fallen leaves rustle between the grass. 
“This is so nice.” Comfort settles into you like the breeze in your hair. “I love it.”
Ike sighs. “Right? It’s so peaceful.”
“And there’s so many more stars out here than there are in the city.”
“It makes you want to just zone out and cool down.”
“Yeah, totally.” Mika coughs. “Huh! Cool! Well, I’m tired now. Just keep staying out here and enjoy the sky, I’m going to bed. Enjoy yourselves.”
Mika inelegantly shuffles around your bodies and slips back inside before either of you can properly tell her goodnight. 
Ike cocks his head as he watches her stumble through the window. “She just said she would stay out…”
“Hm?”
“Ah, nothing. Just thinking to myself.”
With the extra space, Ike leans back and lays along the roof. The stars cast a dreamy glow over his soft smile as he continues. “It really is something that just makes you want to have a deep conversation, or just think, you know?”
You hum in agreement. You get what he means, but there’s only one topic you can imagine having a deep conversation about right now, and it’s the very one you brooded over earlier that day. 
But Ike is Ike. He’s rational and calm and kind, and laughs at your stupid jokes, and texts you first before any of your other mutual friends. The night turns the tips of his hair bluer than usual, and the stars remind you of the freckles hidden along his creamy skin. His glasses reflect the galaxy above.
Even though today’s stream was embarrassing, you know Ike trusts you enough to tell you if you’ve ever crossed a boundary. After all, it’s commonplace to discuss limits on and off stream as soon as possible, and your friendship was so strong that you’ve both opened up to one another. He’d let you know if the whole cuddling thing was too much. Besides, he didn’t resist. He even rested his head on yours. That has to account for something, right?
You snap out of your thoughts when you feel a gentle tug on the sleeve of your hoodie. It’s Ike. He asks, “Lay down with me?”
A wave of fondness washes over you like the tide. He’s cute when he’s earnest like this. You get as comfortable as you can on the tiling, and when you still, you hear something shift before your hand grows warm. Ike scooted closer to you, and placed his pinky finger over yours. 
This is bliss. A beautiful sight with a beautiful boy next to you. Your best friend. 
“I do love you,” you say. 
It just feels right to say. 
Ike is silent. He doesn’t make a single sound as you stare up at the stars and the blackened sky. The breeze rocks a tree, and as the leaves part, you see the moon for the first time: one thin, waning crescent that blends into the darkness. 
Ike’s head is turned away from you. You can’t tell what he’s thinking at all. 
“…I don’t know what you mean,” he admits. “You do? As a friend?”
“We’ve always been friends.”
“Just that?”
“I don’t know what you’re asking me, Ike.”
“N-never mind. I’m sorry, am I making it weird?”
“No, you could never make it weird.” The colors of the view gloss together. You feel like a balloon slowly deflating. “Feels like that’s all I’m doing lately, though.”
Neither of you say anything. 
This was a bad idea. 
You swear the rustling leaves mock you. 
“Wait.” Ike practically snatches your hand up. “Wait, Reader, are you saying you like me?”
“Yeah. I’m saying that I love you.”
Ike stares at you, and if you had to choose just one word to describe his expression, it’s stricken. His mouth is slightly parted, and his shocked eyes drive holes through your skin, leaving you exposed. The brief stutter that escapes him sounds like it was dredged out from frozen, murky waters. “I—”
He drops your hand and turns away. 
“I’m sorry,” he finally says, barely audible. “This is… this is a lot.”
“I’m sorry too, this was a stupid idea. What was I thinking?” You get on your feet, but the slope makes what could’ve been a fluid motion into a stumbling, slow rise, as if your legs weren’t jelly enough already. You inch to the window mortified. “I think I should go. Sorry to bother you.”
You don’t dare to glance at him before you step back inside, not even when he calls your name halfway through the window.
Once you’re back in the living room, you cover your face, then drag your hands through your hair. You can’t even begin to describe how exhausted you feel. This is heartbreak, isn’t it?
You blink furiously, and the outline of a figure by the fridge comes into view. 
“Reader?” Mika asks. She has a stick of string cheese in her hand, but walks to you. “Reader, what happened—”
You take her empty hand and pace to your room. You open the door. “Are you okay?”
The second it shuts, your breath hitches. Mika doesn’t hesitate to take you in her arms. She holds you as the first tear falls, and you begin to cry.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
You wake up the next day sprawled in your bed, even though the blankets are tucked comfortably around you. On the floor is a pillow and another pile of blankets, and when you recognize the dark hair tied into a loose ponytail, the memories of last night come rushing back.
What an awful night. Awful decisions all day, really, and all of them ones you made. You really don’t know what you were thinking. You groan at the memory.
“Reader?” Mika perks up. Her phone is in her hands, but she sits up level to your face on the floor. “Good morning. How are you feeling?”
Another groan.
“Yeah, I figured,” she says. “Nina, Vox and Ike went out to do their own thing, and I think Ren and Uki are cafe-hopping. It’s just you, me and Aia in the house right now.”
You rub the sleepy out of your eyes. “That’s cool, I guess.” You cast a downward glance to Mika’s makeshift bed on the floor. “Sorry for being a nuisance.”
“You’re not a nuisance, Reader, don’t say that.” She nudges you. “We’re friends. It’s what friends do. Speaking of, do you want Aia to come by? And Alban’s online, so I can call him, too. If you want.”
“It’d be nice…”
Less than ten minutes pass before Aia shows up at your door with breakfast sandwiches and orange juice. All three of you sit on the blanketed floor while Mika voice calls Alban on her phone. A pot of coffee brews over speakerphone as you recount last night. 
“...And to make things worse, we just streamed yesterday,” you explain. “God, I should check Twitter. There’s got to be a million people with eyes on our ship tag, and ugh, I hate thinking about how many weirdos are going to push a ship that can’t work out IRL.”
“I can check it for you,” Aia offers. You hand her your phone. “You remember your Twitter password?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool. Sorry in advance.” She deletes the app off your home screen.
You begin to protest, but she turns off the phone and sets it aside, out of your reach. “You’re off the clock, Reader! Work troubles can wait until you’re back online, and that includes doomscrolling. You can redownload it when you’re in a better headspace.”
“I really hate admitting you’re right.”
“Shit, Reader,” Alban finally says. “He seriously dropped the ball. I’m sorry.”
“I know. I really thought he would get it, but it took him so long to piece it together, like he never thought about us like that before. I should’ve known it was just me. I’m so stupid.”
“You’re not stupid, you’re hurt,” Mika says. “It’s understandable, but that still doesn’t make it hurt any less.”
“Is it wrong that I feel like I deserve it? I mean, I knew day one that this wouldn’t work out. We work together online, and we have fans that ship us with each other and the rest of this company, for fuck’s sake. Getting heartbroken was inevitable and I still went for it. Either I’m a glutton for pain or I’m just plain clueless.”
Alban’s voice is distant from the phone as he messes with his coffee maker. You can’t properly hear him under his breath and over the pot, but if you could, you could’ve heard him mumble, Trust me, you’re not the only clueless one here.
But he returns back at the phone, and you’re totally oblivious. “You can’t choose who you fall for,” he says. “It was really that bad?”
“It took him like a minute to realize I was confessing. And then when he realized it, he apologized to me.”
Aia straightens. “Did he say no?”
“Not really, but why would he apologize if he reciprocated?”
Aia exchanges a look with Mika. Alban grumbles. “No fucking way.”
“Tell me exactly how he reacted,” Aia instructs. She plowed through her sandwich during the conversation, but she left the remaining half on her plate forgotten as she laced her fingers together and leaned forward like a calculated boss. 
“It was like he couldn’t comprehend what I was saying at first. He asked if I meant it as friends, until he asked me if I liked him. And when I told him I loved him in response, he was so shocked that he let go of my hand, so I left.”
“No fucking way,” Alban repeats, and groans as he drawls out his words. You can practically hear him drag his hands over his face. “No fucking way. Ikeeeee. He seriously dropped the ball.”
“I know. I can’t believe it.”
Aia takes both of your hands in her own. “Reader, I’m not even saying this to hurt you, but this is the clumsiest confession I’ve ever heard of.”
You squint. “Right, that makes me feel so much better.”
“I’m really not! You know what this sounds like? Miscommunication,” she declares. “You didn’t get a solid yes or no. So now it’s going to be awkward between you two until you get an actual answer to the confession, or at least some kind of resolution. You wanna know what I think? It sounds like he didn’t even believe what he was hearing before you left. Which, by the way, is a common response to not just confessions but other major news, so chances are you didn’t blow up your friendship as hard as you thought.”
“She has a point,” Alban says. “I believe you, Reader, but Ike isn’t the type of person to just crush other people’s feelings like that. You just woke up, right?”
“I haven’t even left my room yet. Mika says everyone else is out of the house. He’s with Vox and Nina, I think.”
“So then he hasn’t had a chance to talk to you since the confession,” he continues. “And those three are really close. I’m willing to bet they’re helping him manage it, ‘cause it sounds like he’s going through it just as confused as you are.”
You stare at the floor. Hope feels foreign, yet you can’t help but wonder. You struggle to remember the exact way Ike reacted last night, but you really can’t tell what facts were clouded over by the rejection. A rejection that possibly didn’t even happen, mind you. The confusion and regret blurs over everything like water on wet ink.
“You really think so?” You quietly ask.
Aia nods, and Alban agrees over the phone.
Mika pipes up, a glass of juice in her hands. “Here’s my take. We can theorize as much as we want, but none of us really know what Ike’s thinking about, least of all you. Especially since you didn’t actually resolve anything, and that tension is going to eat at you until you get an answer or it actually damages your friendship. You ask me, the next best thing you can do is bring it up.”
She takes a sip of her juice and leaves you to absorb her advice. 
You mull it over along with the memory of last night. “He called my name as I left.”
Alban chokes on his coffee. “He called your name?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t respond.”
“Oh my God. READER!” He shouts so loud that Mika turns the volume down. “I’m going to lose it. I’m actually freaking it right now. Reader!”
“What?”
“Fuck what Mika said earlier, you are stupid!”
“Hey!”
“I’m saying this in the nicest way possible, you are so stupid. He was trying to talk to you!”
Your face goes through a handful of emotions as you sputter. “Are you serious, Alban?”
“Yes! Mika, Aia, back me up.”
Aia crinkles her nose. “I did just say it sounded like a total miscommunication.”
Meanwhile, Mika twirls a lock of red-and-black hair between her finger, distracting herself. She hesitates, trying to figure out exactly how she wants to say her piece, before she simply shakes her head and stills. “Just talk to him.”
“Which is easier said than done.” Your shoulders roll back as you stare up at the ceiling, your hands supporting you as you lean. Even with your friends’ encouragement, the memory of how hard you blew it last night still haunts you. It’s even worse than starting at ground zero; you’ve already tasted failure once, and you’re hesitant to embarrass yourself again. 
That stricken look Ike gave you flashes across your sight every time you blink. What was he thinking when he stared at you like that? You can’t tell if the disgust is true or if your anxieties are getting the best of you.
The best solution to anxieties, however, is looking at the facts—or at least, what isn’t tainted by your bias. Your friends mentioned there was nothing wrong with a workplace romance, and as much as the stream made you want to cringe, no one seemed put off by it. Alban and Aia are set on getting you and Ike to talk, and so is Mika. In fact, Mika spoke with Ike as well as Vox and Nina last night before you entered, and even if you had no idea what those four were talking about, you still picked up your name and that apparently Ike had something to tell you.
Pieces start to fall into place when you consider the three around you, staging an intervention over a late breakfast. Aia always gets you in situations where you can be close to Ike and bails you out when it gets awkward, and as much as he won’t get off your back about it, Alban gave you great advice between all his teasing. Mika was nosy at first when she learned about your feelings, but now that you think about it, she’s been incredibly tactful ever since the off-collab began. 
You can’t help but snicker as you connect the dots. “Is this the first time you guys actually started wingmanning for me?”
Aia purses her lips. “Hey, not the first. Remember when we made that group chat? We’ve always been your wingmen.”
“I know. But you guys are seriously helping,” you say. “Thanks. Though I do wonder, Mika…”
She perks up as you say her name. “Be real with me. Do you know more than you’re letting on?”
She flinches. Alban’s fingers snap over the phone. “Busted.”
Mika holds her hands up like a criminal caught in the act, but there’s a loose, sly smile hanging on her face. “I don’t think it’s my place to say.”
“What do you mean, it’s not your place to say?”
“I’m sorry, Reader, but I made a promise not to spill, and I’ve been doing way too much behind the scenes to break the promise like that. Just do me a favor and talk to the guy, will you? That’s the best I can tell you.” Mika rests her head in a hand, and the smirk looks even more knowing. “And if you can’t figure it out after that, then you’re definitely stupid.”
You bluster. “I’m not stupid!” 
“Still remains to be seen.” Aia gently flicks your forehead. “But you do look a lot better. How are you feeling now?”
Aside from the fading pain on your forehead? You’re surprised at how much lighter you feel now that you unloaded all your worries with your friends. The rejection still stings, and you’re not exactly confident, but, well, you’re smiling. The clean, tangy taste of orange juice lingers between your tongue. Aia and Mika sitting on the pile of blankets reminds you that regardless of your love life, they’d stay by your side until the bitter end, and Alban’s voice keeps you connected with your friends no matter where in the world you are.
You snatch Aia’s half-eaten sandwich off her plate and sink your teeth into the bread. She cries out in protest. “Hey!”
“Better now.” You set the sandwich back where you found it. Even though your future with Ike looks cloudy, the smile doesn’t leave. “Don’t flick me.”
“Speaking of.” Mika picks up the phone and scrolls through her messages. “Nina just texted that she, Vox and Ike will come back in an hour or less. Reader, are you up for this?”
“What do you mean, ���up for this?’”
“Just seeing Ike again. It was a weird night,” she says. “I stand by what I said, but if it’s going to be too much too soon, then Aia and I can cover for you until you feel better.”
“I don’t know.” That’s what gets your expression to sink from light to thoughtful. “I think I want to take your advice. I just don’t know if I’m ready to talk it out yet.”
“Still wanna hang out with us or take a moment to yourself?”
“I think I’d just go back to moping if I was alone,” you joke.
“Cool. Let me go grab some nail polish Nina gave me yesterday.” Mika rises and strides to the door. “You have a steadier hand than me. And Nina said the color suits me more than her.”
Aia’s face lights up. She happily cries ”Girls’ night!” even though it’s barely noon and Alban is decidedly not a girl, but then he croons something in a valley girl accent so strong you can’t even tell what he’s saying. Scratch that; he’s a girl by association.
When he drawls out one long “Yaaaaaas, bestie!” you can’t help but laugh. Your love life is in shambles, but at least your friendships are solid as hell. You’d give the world for these three.
Mika returns a moment later, travel-sized nail supplies in her arms and a totally unrelated topic on the mind. The sharp scent of the lacquer startles you out of your thoughts as you uncap the bottle and Mika splays her hands out, and Alban and Aia air their opinions on something entertainingly dumb. 
Nina was right: this color is stunning on Mika. You paint Aia’s nails too, and halfway through her second hand, you hear the front door open, the end of an intelligible conversation, and telltale footsteps, each diverting across the house. The girls’ eyes flicker to you. You know they’re trying to read your expression, but you concentrate on how the brushstrokes pool together into one smooth coat. Your thoughts are a storm and you can’t even pick out the emotion commanding it. 
So you keep joking along instead and focus on the nail polish, refusing to give the storm an opportunity to strike. Alban quips off of you, and the moment passes as Mika and Aia return to the conversation. 
That is, until half an hour later when you hear a knock on the door. Mika cocks her head, a silent question, and when you nod she stands. Her nails dried when you finished Aia’s, and dot the doorknob as she cracks it open. A tiny margin of light from the hallway shines into your room, and you realize she positioned herself square in front of the threshold, shielding you from the person on the other side. 
She talks evenly. “Hey, welcome back.”
“Thanks. Is Reader here?”
Your mind thunders as you register the voice. You can only see the leg of his jeans behind Mika, but you recognize Ike’s voice on the other side. 
Aia shuffles by as a second shield. “Need them for something?”
“Kind of,” Ike says. “Do you mind if I talk to them?”
“I don’t know, what’s it about—“
“Aia, you can lay off him.” You call from your corner of the room. “You too, Mika.”
“Whatever you say. Just let me just grab my stuff…”
Mika grabs the nail supplies and deafens on Discord, but doesn’t even think to pick up the blankets along the ground. Instead, she glides to you and whispers under her breath. “We’re rooting for you. Send us a text if you need anything, okay?”
You nod. Aia slips past the threshold, but not without shooting you a thumbs up and mouthing ‘good luck.’ Not even a second later, your phone buzzes, and you catch Alban’s contact sending you an encouraging message in all-caps. 
“See you later!” Aia chirps. “Play nice, you two.”
The scent of the lacquer follows them as they leave, and the sound of their footsteps fade in time. 
Still in the doorway, Ike raises a hand to fidget with the chain along his glasses. “Do you mind if I…?”
“Oh! Come in. Sit anywhere, I don’t mind.”
You stay planted on the floor like how you were with your friends, and Ike sits next to you. You face the wall in front while he gets comfortable.
No words are exchanged as Ike maneuvers around the blankets, and eventually settles down with his back on the floor and head resting on a pillow, staring up at the ceiling. The light is off, but the blinds filter in thin beams of sunlight that cross over the room and the edge of his collar like a grid. 
“Lay with me?” He asks. Then it strikes you like ringing metal; you sit next to each other in the same positions as that night on the roof. 
Suddenly Ike raises his hands like static. “Not that you have to! I just figured it would be good to get comfortable and all, you know?” Ike hastily explains, then clears his throat. “I wanted to talk. About last night, I mean.”
Your chest flutters at the mention of it, but you remember all your friends’ encouragement. Here he is, the novelist of your (heartbroken) dreams, already bringing up the topic you dread to mention. You need to take this chance to face it head-on, now or never. 
You glide down like the ceiling is full of stars. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?”
“A lot, honestly. I don’t know how to go about it, but first of all, I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.”
You cross your arms. “You said that enough last night.”
“Not like that! I mean I’m sorry I acted the way I did. I think I made every wrong choice once you said that you… that.” He shovels a hand through his hair. “I’m making it weird again. I should apologize for that, too, it’s just kind of embarrassing saying out loud that you, um, you loved me. Not that you should be embarrassed. I mean, I get it if you are, but that took a lot of guts. You should be proud of that. I admire you for that.”
“Slow down. What are you even saying?”
“What I wish I said last night. More than anything else, I’m sorry I got caught off-guard. I must’ve been so standoffish, because my idiot brain just didn’t believe what I was hearing until it was too late and the damage was already done.” Hair the color of ash and ocean falls over his face. “Honestly, I can’t believe it now.”
“I get it. Bad idea from me. Can we move on from that yet?”
“I don’t think it was a bad idea at all. I just had no idea that you liked me.”
“Give me some time and I’ll get over it, eventually. I’m not going to let it get in the way of working with you, if that’s what you’re trying to get at.”
“No, that’s not it either! I—“
Ike’s eyes squeeze shut. His voice is so quiet, you can’t discern what he’s saying. “…Actually, I’m…”
“Repeat that?”
“I’m happy. Really happy,” Ike says. His pitch rises like a balloon floating up into space, struggling to stay composed. “I’m not good at saying it, but I meant it when I said… when I said it during the stream.”
You wave a hand in the air. “It was weird timing, and I know you mean it like a friend,” you reply. “I didn’t mean to pressure you into saying it, and just being friends is fine. Even though I’m a loser that messed up just about everything.”
The hand catches in midair. Doll-like fingers weave through your grasp, and turn your touch warm as Ike turns to look at you. “Not with me. Don’t say that about yourself, okay?” 
You stare at how easily he held your hand, and how his fingers cradle your heart between the palms. The corners of Ike’s eyes are narrowed, two beads of peridot stone that can see through every little line of text between your pages, but there’s gentleness under his glasses. Something uncertain and fluffy. Softened like a lamb even though he leaves you defenseless. 
You don’t know what to say. Ike is beautiful and kind and handsome and thoughtful when he’s earnest like this. He’s got you stupid in the head and wrapped around his pinky finger, and doesn’t have a single clue.
Peridot sparkles. “You’re so much more than that. You don’t mess things up, Reader. I’m in love with you.”
Your mouth goes dry and your tongue is still tied. Forget speechlessness; the man took your own damn thoughts away. Your hand remains frozen in air with Ike’s. If it weren’t for the light drag of one of his fingernails along your skin, then you would have figured he took your senses as well.
But the drag ends, and the fingers unlace themselves, and chilled air fills in the gaps Ike once held close. The tips of his fingers rest at the curve of your palm for just one second more before they drift away.
The glint in his eyes dulls. His hand falls to his chest, over his heart, just as slow as he parted. The uncertainty took over, and now it’s like staring at a cloud that doesn’t know if it should rain. Ike’s gaze lowers to his heart. There’s a stretch of silence and motionlessness as he stares at where your touch once was, and you’re paralyzed where you lay.
Ike's hand curls in on itself, too loose to make a fist, and his lashes sink over his eyes. His mouth is set into a flat line, but the cheeks are dusted in pinks and reds and peppered freckles in-between, demure and shy all the while.
He turns his face away soon after that. Another break of silence, and he shuffles again, with your vision on his back as if it were a hiding place.
It startles you out of your stupor. The gridded sunlight lets you analyze what you missed. After months of thinking your feelings would never be reciprocated, Ike thought of you just the same. He’s always been in your corner, and you would go to the ends of the earth for him, and everything is in its perfect position. But his back is still turned, and the memory of last night—your confession, and his inaction—it rushes to your head.
So you reach out instead.
Maybe it’s a little selfish. You’re tired of bumbling around and concealing your true feelings, and now that everything's out in the open, you aren’t about to let go without resolution.
But Ike is your best friend, and the man you fell in love with. There was no way you’d ever let go in the first place.
You wrap your arms around his back and hug Ike.
“I think I get why you were so taken aback last night,” you whisper. Even though you’re alone with Ike, you still say it like a secret. “I can barely believe it myself.”
Your warmth is inviting, and every second that passes is another defense downed. Your head perches right above his neck and along his shoulder. It’s not your first hug with Ike at all, but there’s only been so many since you first met him in person that it still feels special, and with your bodies flush to the floor, it’s intimate. His eyes are averted and one cheek lays down on the blankets, but the tips of his ears glow scarlet under his jewelry. 
“I’m glad you were patient with me. I really didn’t think I had a chance with you. You know, the long distance and the company, and you know, the standard pining fare. I’m really lucky.” A smile slips through your words. “I’ll stay with you, okay? So take all the time you need.”
Ike chuckles. Even his laughter is blushy-bashful. “I’m just so happy you feel the same, too. I don’t even know what to do with myself.”
His body curls as he lays, and your legs brush along his as you cuddle. Holding him makes it feel like he was made to fit in your arms. You sigh. “I love when you can’t contain it. It’s so cute.” 
Ike squeaks at that, and unwittingly proves your point. “It feels so good to say that out loud. I mean, you’re okay with it, right?” A nod. “And you’re okay with… I don’t know. Are we still friends?”
“Of course we are, no matter what. You said you loved me first, so let me say this one?” 
You have a feeling you know what’s coming next. You hug him even tighter.
“Reader, let’s go out. I don’t want this feeling to end,” he confesses, and your world turns into rose and blush. “Can we?”
Though you expected it, he still takes your breath away—until he taps you on the hand. “Come on, say something before my heart explodes!”
“Mine already did! I can’t even think straight, and—I’d love that. I really want this.”
Another squeal breaks out as Ike buries his head into a blanket, and your heart soars as he melts. He resembles a swaddled-up kitten, and the rays of sunlight line his silhouette. The fluffy blanket reminds you of an angel’s downy wings along his kitten features. You can’t even see his face between the blanket and his hair, but his squeal continues, muted through the blanket as he swoons. 
Somehow that only makes you feel even more flustered. “No, don’t hide! I want to see you!”
Maybe it would’ve been better for your heart if he stayed put, because when Ike rises—with disheveled hair and glitter in his eyes the color of seaglass, and jewelry that frames his red face, and that galaxy of freckles you hold so dear and shine like stars between his blush—you feel your heart stop. Again.
“When did you start having this effect on me?” You ask, mesmerized, and before you know it you thumb over one of his rosy cheeks. “Your freckles are so beautiful.”
He sheepishly grins. “They don’t really show up online. They’re pale.”
“Never noticed them until I met you in person. I love them. I love you.”
The grin gets a little wider. One of his fingers grazes along the corner of your ear. Has his hand always been along your jawline?
Ike’s eyes are shining under the grid of sunlight. The lashes flit just a bit lower from your gaze. “Reader, can we…?”
You close your eyes.
And when Ike’s lips graze your own, you smile on instinct before you remember to kiss back. 
Ike brings you near, searching for the taste of you as he continues. His touch lodges past your jawline and into your hair, and when one of the fingers grazes along your ear you’re reminded just how much you love Ike. All the yearning you hid for so long bleeds through as you sink down to his level with his head in your hand, gentle yet impassioned.
Then your face bumps against Ike’s glasses. The kiss breaks as you back away.
There’s a brief pause in the aftermath. Ike wordlessly adjusts his glasses, now knocked off-center. Despite finally getting on the same page on your relationship with Ike, you’re still as clumsy about your feelings as ever.
But the corners of your lips curve up as he inspects the lens you squished, then a barely-stifled giggle, and next thing you know, Ike’s laughing along with you, still underneath your body and with one hand in your hair while the other holds his glasses in place. He sounds as charming as he looks, and the fact that he joined you even when you chuckled out of the blue means that his mind is just as charming as well.
Not that it was breaking news. You know your best friend well, and now that you don’t need to deny your feelings any longer, you know you’ve got good taste if Ike’s under you with crinkled eyes and hearty laughter.
When you speak next, the giggles patter out between your words but the quiet delight hangs in your teeth. “Can we try that again?”
Then his lips are on yours again, and the laughter twists between the second kiss, and the third, and the fourth, all the way until you collapse on the blankets with arms around each other, staring up at the stars on the bland popcorn ceiling as adoration fills the space between you. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
bonus.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Starting soon…
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
The chat flickers alive as a four-pointed flower, a diamond, and a thorned heart give way to the stream and the novelist behind the stinger. 
Kaidororero: welcome back ike!
Min (Ikey’s Book): 💙 IKEY IS BACK 💙
A normal broom: HI IKE
lunasmortas: 💙💙💙
viperip: ike! :_heart: :_heart: :_heart:
Sun shines through a clear day in Ike’s room onscreen, but in reality, blackout curtains block out the day outside. A sweet smile graces both Ike’s face and his model as the Quilldren welcome him home. 
He greets them, and cracks open a can of soda as he quickly scans through the chat. Obviously, the off-collab is on everyone’s minds. 
juuuuuuuuuus: did you have fun?
Kaidororero: offcollab POOOG
lunasmortas: SO CUTE :_heart: :heart:
Johnclone: Hope you had a good time!
zZirasthingZz: PEN AND PAPER REAL
Hm. A mod will eventually bonk that message. But then again, it’s inevitable that the ship would come up in chat. 
Ike takes it in stride and ignores it like any other shipper, but his heart still skips a beat. Nonetheless, he doesn’t call any attention to it. “How about that off-collab, right? I met up with my friends! Where do I even begin?”
Ike recounts his trip from the beginning, and the Quilldren react to his stories with interest. He was one of the last to arrive, so Nina, Uki and Reader picked him up from the airport, and met up with Aia, Ren, and Mika at the Airbnb. Vox was the only one to arrive after him, hot off the heels of a flight delay, but the demon was a welcome party all his own despite his exhaustion. 
“We went to karaoke once Vox got situated,” Ike explains. “Nina put that song in first so we could all let loose, and so she would have a fun voice tweet for everyone. Might as well confirm everyone that showed up, right?
“But after that, we didn’t want to stress ourselves out to perform for voice tweets instead of just having fun, so that was the only song we recorded. I wish you could’ve heard Uki and Vox’s duet, though. And while we were singing, turns out Ren packed a ukulele with him! Sometimes he would learn how to play along by ear, like a jam session. Mika knows how to play ‘Somewhere Over The Rainbow’ too, so everyone joined in singing that while she played it. It was so much fun.”
Johnclone: Everyone sounded great!
sunblast99: uki’s voice >>>>>> everything else 💜💙
haabinae: :_tskr:
Festersk: WHAT I REALLY REALLY WANT 🗣🗣
A normal broom: what did you sing?
Ike leans back in his chair. He blows a lock of hair out of his sight as he tries to think. “I remember Vox sang something by George Strait, so then we all egged him on to sing ‘Country Roads.’ He only did it once I promised to queue up ‘Toxicity’ by System of a Down afterwards.”
lunasmortas: OMG 💙💙💙
gatamiizuus: ayo?
Y A M: YESSSSSSS :_tskr: :_tskr:
haabinae: I LOVE SOAD :_fanboy:
Thornmy: SO COOL 💙
“Thank you.” He says it out of obligation. If he thinks too hard about the compliments, he’ll get embarrassed. “What else was there? I think there was some Motionless in White, and Spiritbox. Oh, and My First Story. Can’t forget My First Story.”
K. K. Soda: ooooo
Alban Knox 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : what about mcr
asper ch.: METAL SCREAM?
deeboorgur: HI ALBAN
Y A M: MCR YEAAAAA  :_glowstick_1: :_glowstick_2:
“I’m getting there, Alban!” 
Ike takes a sip while the Quilldren greet Alban. He’s not too surprised Alban seems to know more than the other viewers. He’s close with almost everyone that went on the trip, and was super active on Discord during the off-collab. The novelist lowers his soda as the chat floods in orange hearts. He wonders how Alban learned so much as an observer. He should ask. 
But that’s a question for after stream. Ike continues. “Thank Nina for that. She queued up ‘I’m Not Okay’ by My Chemical Romance, and then shoved two mics in my hands and Reader’s.”
And the chat explodes. 
Kaidororero: OMGGGGGG 💙💕
Y A M: PEN AND PAPER SO CUTE :_tskr:
zZirasthingZz: PEN AND PAPER DUET
asper ch.: AYOOOO MCR
gatamiizuus: I LOVE READER
ystariya: PEN AND PAPER MY BELOVED
“It’s a really fun song! It’s almost all clean vocals, but there’s this scream in the middle. Up until then, we sang together, but then I screamed, and Reader picked up the slack and sang the parts of the verse I couldn’t. They’re amazing.”
gatamiizuus: READER SIMPS COME GET Y’ALL’S JUICE
Thornmy: THAT SOUNDS SO GOOD
lunasmortas: 💙💕💙💕
ystariya: READER KARAOKE STREAM WHEN
Kaidororero: AWWWWWWW
The model on the screen doesn’t have the same glint in Ike’s eye when he talks about you. That first day of the trip was all about getting comfortable after long travel hours, and the stories went on as the days went by. Sightseeing with Aia and shopping with Uki by day, and spending the night shooting the shit with Ren until it turns into the littlest hours of the morning.
“Vox wanted to try a bunch of different restaurants with me, but you know me, ya boi is not good with most foods. So Nina usually came along in case I couldn’t finish something. She and Vox would share my leftovers.”
Something fond crosses over Ike’s face. His eyes cloud over in fog descending over a clear-sky day. “We would always talk over food about anything. I appreciate it a lot. They really get me.” The fog stills. “And over breakfast one morning, they gave me some excellent advice over something I’ve been meaning to do.”
ver*batim: ❤️💙❤️
K. K. Soda: MILORDDDDD
nroneo: :_heart:
A normal broom: upcoming project? 👀 
Johnclone: I love Nina Kosaka!
“Not a project, no. It was something I was really worried about, even when I was supposed to be taking a break with my friends,” he says. “But those two seriously helped me clear my head about it. Mika, too. Vox and Nina had a lot of nuanced advice, but Mika told it to me straight, and helped handle what I couldn’t. I’m really thankful to have them.”
His set jaw loosens. “Maybe I’ll talk about it one day.”
The model cocks to the side. Motion blurs the foggy sobriety away. With a lightness to his voice and a knowing gaze, Ike looks straight into the camera and smiles, sentimentality forgotten. The air clears. “But for now, it’s a secret~!
“Ah, now where was I? Spending time with my friends, right? Reader and I hung out often. Sometimes with others, but it ended up being the two of us more than not.”
Birds chirp outside Ike’s window in time with the hum of his PC. The backlit keyboard in front of the monitors glows the same color as the computer, a healthy blue light that tints the tips of his fingers. He usually sets it to a rainbow spectrum in his own time, but static blue is reserved for going live. It gets him in the right mindset for streaming, and makes his little apartment feel fantastical like the noble background that accompanies his model, even if it only reaches his fingertips. 
He’s sure the Ike on the screen has fingertips tinged with blue just like him, an extension of the man outside the screen but without the grittier details. Smooth, pristine hands under gloves where his are callused from guitar playing. Nothing under the model’s eyes but lashes and a line of red that brings out the pink in his eyes, very much unlike the heavy bags and sunken face from an awful delay on his flight back home. No freckles, either, but even cameras rarely pick them up on video call. Nina cooed over them the first time they met, as motherly as ever, but behind closed doors Reader was utterly fascinated with them. They mentioned something about watching blush travel around his face with the smattering of freckles in-between once or twice… maybe more? Doesn’t matter when he’s never heard that before and it repeats in his head when he catches himself daydreaming. It’s one of the best things he’s ever heard.
Vtuber Model Ike’s face doesn’t heat up like how Real Ike’s certainly is now. He clears his throat. “The weather was really nice during the entire trip, so we would always get into good conversations while walking back to where we were staying. And sometimes we didn’t want to end the conversation, so we’d just keep walking past our Airbnb until our feet hurt or it got dark, whichever came first. 
“Oh, here’s something funny. Uki really loves cafes, right? Usually he woke up early with Ren to go check out some cafes in the morning, way before the rest of us would even think of waking up. By the time everyone else woke up, they already finished their breakfast, and Uki would tell Reader about the ones to visit or skip. Whenever Uki recommended one, Reader always wanted to go themselves, so I went along to keep them company.” 
Even as his skin returns to its original shade, the sweetness sticks to his throat like the soda he’s barely touched at all. He’s wistful. He didn’t expect to miss Reader this much; after all, his relationship with them has bloomed so much ever since you first started working together, but two weeks together (including mutual close friends) changes things. It’s only been two days since he returned home, but he feels out of rhythm with them. 
He’s gotten too accustomed to them. Over the last few months, he thought he did a good job putting aside his feelings for Reader, even when Nina would tease him after every Pen and Paper collab and Vox and Mika would be right behind her, hyping him up to make a move. The fear of rejection was what motivated him to keep his close friendship with Reader without ever confessing to them.
“Reader…”
The world around him is nothing. Paused to buffer as he thinks. He can’t remember the last time he felt so happy. Just being in the same room as them makes him feel stupid, and surely he’s been acting like it. Everything he says sounds clumsy when he’s with them. After all, on that day when he owned up to the feelings he repressed for so long that he couldn’t properly react to Reader’s confession, he couldn’t say much more than how happy he was. Words fail to describe what Reader means to him, yet he’s a novelist, for crying out loud! How ironic!
“...Reader is so patient with me,” Ike says. “And they’re so considerate and dedicated. I wish I told them that earlier. It’s hard to say things out loud like this, but you only meet people like Reader once in a lifetime if you’re lucky, and even then, there’s no one quite like Reader.”
ystariya: i love reader
Kaidororero: pen and paper awwww
Y A M: PEN AND PAPER
acklmystafoot: ike is so sweet!!!
Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : 💙
“Aaah!”
Ike recoils like his keyboard is flaming lava. The model on the screen leans back and freezes in place while he nearly throws himself out of his chair. “R-Reader! What are you doing here?!”
Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : FKJLJJSLKFJDKS LMAOOOOOOOO
Johnclone: Hello Reader!
Y A M: OMG
Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : just wanted to say hi
Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : hi!
Festersk: LMAO
Ike sputters out nothing but empty air and nervous laughter. “Haha. Um. Hi! Welcome!”
Stupid! He wants to kick himself. He’s made improvement on verbalizing affection, and he’s comfortable with Reader, especially now that there aren’t any secrets left, but he’s still so unfamiliar with affection being returned that his heart is still doing kickflips in his chest. 
haabinae: :_blush: :_blush: :_blush:
juuuuuuuuuus: most normal pen and paper moment
Thornmy: AWWW
Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : check discord
A normal broom: Oh?
“Ah, okay! Give me a second.” Ike keeps his Discord on mute, and usually disables desktop notifications when he’s live, so he’s not surprised to open the window to unread messages and some non-urgent pings. Sure enough, Reader sent him something.
Reader: because you were talking about cafes
Reader: image.png (3)    | 💙 1 |
Me: Oh I recognize these from our first date!
It’s been over a week now, but just saying he went on a date with Reader has him squeezing his legs together so his feet wouldn’t start kicking in the air. 
Reader: ahh you remembered! 
Me: I should’ve figured you took more pictures than the ones you showed me
Reader: dw i have more i wanted to show you
Reader: image.png (8)    | 💙 1 |
Me: Seriously how are you so good at photography I don’t get it-
Me: You’re really pretty in this one!
Me: UGHHHH WHY DO I LOOK SO WEIRD    | ❌ 1 | 💕 1 |
Me: I DIDN’T EVEN NOTICE YOU TAKE THIS ONE
Reader: WTH YOU’RE NOT WEIRD
Reader: YOU’RE LITERALLY SO HANDSOME WHY DO YOU  T H I N K  I TOOK THAT PIC
Well, great, now he’s actually kicking in his seat. Ike is inclined to disagree, but when Reader says it, it’s a super-effective attack on his poor little novelist heart. 
Me: Akaslwdnja
Me: Thank you 😭
Reader: anyways i gotta go i stream in 20 min and i’ve barely eaten my food
Me: Go eat! Do you have enough water?
Reader: just refilled my bottle
Me: Good then don’t let me keep you! Have a good stream!
And before he can overthink it, in the moment—
Me: I love you!
His sights are set on his second monitor.
Reader is typing…
Reader doesn’t have to respond. Sometimes just saying it is enough. 
Reader: fdsjdfkl.
Ike’s been trying to relearn that lesson ever since he realized everything he repressed was reciprocated.
Reader: i love you too, ike
Words heard across the world, one of the people he holds most dear.
His heart beats loud in his ears, but he can feel it slow, somehow. Reader is exhilarating, but there’s security in them, too. The nerves kick in until he remembers they’re just as exposed as the other, and the vulnerability generate a sense of comfort. Reader makes him feel understood like no one else in the world does, and he trusts them more than anything.
He does. He does, he does, he does, even if he only has the strength to say it one at a time. Ike is in love.
Reader: i’ll let you know when i’m done streaming, we can watch a movie together after
Me: It’s a date!    | 💕 1 |
It takes him a moment to tear his gaze away from your messages. 
His streaming monitor reflects his movements. The chat moves along. Blue light spreads through his fingertips, just like how he imagines Vtuber Model Ike’s hands resting on his own keyboard, an extension of the man outside the screen, proof of the fantastical.
“They sent me something.” Ike’s laughter is gentle. “I really do love them.”
The chat zooms past, as expected. Surely that would get clipped alongside the off-collab Q&A, but he can’t seem to care. He doubts the fandom would really understand how deep the connection goes, and if they do? Some things are just meant to be private.
Besides, on the day Ike and Reader get comfortable enough in their relationship to go public, he knows the Quilldren have his back, just like Reader and their Bookworms. 
“Reader, if you’re still there, we need to meet up again,” Ike says. “I don’t know when, but one day.”
A flurry of messages, but only one truly matters.
Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : i wouldn’t miss it for the world
The model onscreen grins. It pales in comparison to Ike himself.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
✧. ┊commentary ↣
✧. ┊ masterpost ✧. ┊ kofi
422 notes · View notes
bro-atz · 7 months
Note
Hi, its my first time to request. Since its halloween can you write an incubus Yunho one shot fanfiction? I just want the fanfic has a plot before the smut scenes and its up to you what would that be. Thanks 😊
dream in a dream
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in which: yunho needs to fuck in order to stay alive, but he fell in love with you in the process.
pair: incubus!yunho/afab!reader
word count: 8k
content: smut, angst... a lot of sex... like a lot a lot, death, raw sex (remember to wrap up irl!), consensual...? definitely not non-con, but... mostly consensual idk sexsomnia/somnophilia are hard to categorize
author's note: friend... my brain literally exploded HAHA i never thought the day would come when i would be requested to write an incubus ff... anyway i really ran with the idea apparently so i hope you like this ridiculously long incubus!yunho also i am so sorry for how it ends... seriously i'm truly sorry idk what i did happy halloween ig?
tag list: @k-hotchoisan apply for the permanent taglist here!
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The thing with immortal beings that a lot of people don’t know is that they’re not actually immortal. They have to do certain things to stay alive. Humans have to eat food and drink water to stay alive, but not immortal beings. Each one is different. Vampires feed on blood (duh), banshees feed on revenge, wendigos need to consume human flesh, and an incubus needs to have sex. Vulgar? Yes, but it’s the truth.
It’s not just about sex for an incubus, though. They need the health, the energy, the life force from a human, and they have sex in order to obtain that.
Yunho was an incubus. He was kind of a lousy one at that. No, he was good at obtaining the energy he needed to keep going, but the problem for him was that he was picky. Some vampires only like a certain blood group, and Yunho only had an affinity for certain people. It was hard for Yunho to find someone he didn’t immediately despise. Think about it— he can’t have sex if he can’t get it up, and there were a select amount of people on the planet who could get him to that point.
That was when he met you.
You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his entire life (and he had lived such a long life). There was just something about the way you would laugh and smile that made his heart flutter, and just watching you walking away from him made his body burn with lust. You were the one. He just knew that you were the one from the beginning, before he even slept with you.
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You sighed deeply as you flopped onto your bed. You had a horrible day at work, and you wanted to relieve your stress one way or another, but you just couldn’t figure out what to do in order to relax. You dragged yourself into your bathroom and forced yourself to get ready to go to bed.
As you sat on your bed under the duvet in your tank top and shorts silk pajama set and watched TV, you couldn’t help but feel like something was off. You couldn’t tell what it was, but after getting sucked into the drama in your show, that feeling vanished. Sleepily, you turned your TV off and slept.
Then, your eyes fluttered open. Something got onto your bed, and you knew because you felt the bed dip. You blinked a couple of times and saw a shadowy figure next to you. You wanted to scream, and you opened your mouth to do so, but the figure covered your mouth.
“Shh, baby,” the figure whispered in the most reassuring, low, manly voice. “I’m not here to hurt you.”
“W-who are you? What’re you doing here? How did you get in here?” you rambled off all of the questions in your head.
“None of those things matter,” he responded with the same, low register. “What matters is this. Us.”
The figure brushed your hair out of your face lightly, and you found yourself comforted by his touch. There was something about the warmth in his hands that reassured you. His fingers ran down the side of your face, down your neck, and over your shoulder, slipping your tank top strap off the side. You trembled when you felt his lips press lightly against your shoulder and let out a tiny moan as their kisses trailed along the part of your chest that was exposed.
“Why…?” you breathed out.
He responded, but you couldn’t hear him over the sound of blood rushing to your ears when you felt his body weight press further into you. You lost yourself even more when he brushed hair away from your neck and left sweet kisses.
“Just enjoy it, Y/N,” he whispered.
“You know my name…?”
He nodded against your neck, continuing to kiss you. You gasped when you felt his hand go under your top and squeeze your breast tightly. You squirmed below him as you felt yourself get more and more turned on— you needed him to do something about it. Whimpers and moans left your lips the more he felt your body up, and those whimpers and moans stopped when his lips met yours. He kissed you sweetly. He originally kissed you only once, but you needed more. You reached for his face and brought him back, kissing him over and over again.
“God, you’re so perfect, Y/N,” he breathed out in between kisses.
When he moved away from you, you wanted to complain, but he didn’t give you the chance. He tugged your shorts down all the way and licked your cunt from bottom to top. You inhaled sharply as his tongue continued to violate you. His firm hands went under your knees and pushed upwards, allowing him to pleasure you even more.
“Oh God,” you hissed when he sucked on your clit.
You felt yourself nearing your climax. You brought your hands to the back of his head and ran your fingers through his hair before holding on tightly to his roots. The closer you got, the firmer your grasp became, and right before you came, you pushed his head closer to you.
“Fuck!” you cried.
Your pussy convulsed, and stars filled your vision as you reached ecstasy. You were breathing rashly when he sat up and wiped his lips with his thumb.
You could barely make out his features now that you got a better view of him, but you knew that the man was fine. His jawline was sharp, and his nose was long and slender. His hair shielded his eyes, but his lips were beautiful and plump. As much as you liked staring at his lips, you wanted them connected to yours again.
Before removing his own clothes, he helped you out of yours. You laid in bed and watched his muscles ripple as he moved, his slender frame swelling up as he inhaled and looked at you. You watched him palm himself, your heart racing as you saw exactly how well hung we was. Slowly, he pinned you down and positioned himself carefully.
You felt like he was going to split you wide open when he entered you. He was long and girthy, and you really weren’t ready for it. Tears slipped out of your eyes as you suppressed your cries. Yet, despite the pain, you didn’t want him to stop, so when he was fully inside you and didn’t move, you whimpered and whined.
“Good job, baby,” he whispered as he pet your hair. “I’m going to start moving now, okay?”
You nodded eagerly, making him have to choke back a laugh. You reached for the back of his neck and brought his face down to yours as he pulled out slowly. You kissed him hungrily while he started to actually fuck you. His tongue slipped into your mouth, and your tongue met his over and over again with every kiss.
At first, he was moving slowly at a steady pace, but suddenly, he thrust sharply into you, making you moan into his mouth. You continued to moan in between the kisses as he fucked you hard, his waist hitting yours with so much force that your entire body shifted forward. Worried that your head would hit the headboard, he put his hand on the top of your head, only to move his hand to the back of your head as he pulled you to sit upright.
His lips were still pressed against yours as he knelt on the bed, his cock still deep inside you. You sat on his lap and held onto him tightly as he raised and lowered you repeatedly. You let out little yelps every time he sat you down on his lap fully, his dick hitting places deep within you with such force.
“So good!” you moaned loudly as you flung your head back. “I’m gonna cum again!”
Without any sort of reaction, he lowered you down again and fucked you senseless, his hips making your ass cheeks sting. You kept crying out with every thrust, and when he slammed into you and stayed inside, filling you with his seed, you came as well. It was only when he pulled out that you squirted onto the bed, his cum leaking out of you.
You remained lying on the bed in a puddle of pleasure as he laid down gently beside you. His fingers tucked your splayed out hair behind your ear and caressed your face as your eyelids suddenly became heavy with sleep. 
Drifting back to sleep, you were barely conscious to hear his response when you asked, “What’s your name?”
“Yunho.”
When you woke up the next morning, you looked up and around wildly, remembering the incredible night you had— also fearing that a stranger really was in your home— but there was no one to be found. You were wearing your pajamas, which confused you because you definitely fell asleep after… That… Naked. Also, your hair and bedsheets were still neat and orderly, which definitely should not have been the case if you had sex that night. Was that all really a dream?
“Geez, get it together,” you whispered to yourself. “There’s no way you slept with a complete stranger last night.”
It had to be the exhaustion, you told yourself. You just needed a break.
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“Yunho, you gotta find someone to fuck, otherwise you’re going to vanish. You know how it is,” a demon sighed.
Yunho was with his incubus friends chatting and people watching as they sat in public in their human forms.
“No, I know, Mingi. I found someone,” Yunho answered.
“Wow, the picky incubus finally chose someone?!” another demon exclaimed.
“Shut up, San. And, yes, I did.”
“Who’s the lucky lady?” Mingi asked.
“Just… Someone.”
Mingi and San looked at each other with concern as Yunho looked away, a light blush appearing on his face.
“Yunho… When did you meet this woman?” Mingi asked.
“About a month or two ago.”
“And how many times have you slept with this woman?” San continued the line of questioning.
“Uh, I think eight times.” Yunho lied. “Why?”
“You need to find someone else.”
“Why?”
“Dude, are you stupid, or did you forget that you can only fuck her so many times before she dies?”
Yunho pressed his lips together and looked away. Of course he knew that. He knew, but he couldn’t help it. He loved you. Demons weren’t supposed to fall in love, but there was just something about you that drew him toward you. He couldn’t keep away.
“You’re only at eight—”
“I lied. It’s ten.”
“Okay, fine. You’ve only fucked her ten times, right?” San clarified. “You have to find someone else.”
“It’s not so easy! You guys know how I am.”
“Yes, we do. At least find someone else before you hit twenty,” Mingi said with a sigh. “You don’t want to end up like Yeosang, do you?”
Yeosang was another incubus that was part of Yunho’s little group. He, too, fell in love with a human and fucked her until the fated number— forty-two. When she passed away, Yeosang couldn’t move on. Because he wasn’t having sex, he withered away, leaving both the human world and demon world.
“I know. I’ll find someone else…” Yunho conceded.
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It was the weekend for you, and you had a long and stressful week thanks to work, which meant you were going to use the weekend to recover instead of spend it having fun with your friends.
Recovery to you meant sitting in bed, watching TV, and eating as much junk food as your body could handle. As you sat and mindlessly watched whatever it was playing on your television, your mind drifted to the dreams you’ve been having as of late.
It wasn’t every night, but it was starting to become more frequent. You kept dreaming of that man, Yunho, and he had sex with you in each dream. It felt so vivid and real, but every morning after the dream, you’d wake up to a clean bed and clean pajamas. You wished it was real, though. Yunho always fucked you right. He knew exactly how to treat you, which just made you feel even more delusional. How could a dream be better than sex in real life? The human mind truly is incredible.
Your mind kept going. You thought about Yunho and how he looked when he was sweaty and passionate hovering above you, the way he would brush two fingers along your temple to move your hair before leaving a light kiss on your forehead, his technique when he…
You started touching yourself. You thought about Yunho’s fingers, his tongue, his dick. You thought about how good he made you feel whenever you dreamt about him. You rubbed your middle finger over your clit while imaging it was his tongue, and with a soft moan, you slipped two of your fingers into your pussy— although it definitely wasn’t the same because Yunho was significantly bigger and longer.
You thought about the sweet nothings he would whisper in your ear as he fucked you softly. The way he called you baby, the way he praised you… Fuck.
You were close to cumming when all of a sudden an ad on the TV scared the shit out of you. It was loud and for a horror film. You immediately turned off the TV and threw the remote onto your nightstand. Great. The mood was gone. Annoyed, you pulled the covers over you and went to sleep
Yunho, meanwhile, had been watching you— demons had the ability to become invisible, so he was able watch you while leaning against your door frame, his arms crossed over his chest. Watching you was so hot, and if anything, it made him love you even more. He hated that you went to bed unsatisfied, so of course he had to act. He waited until you were fully asleep before turning into his human form and sitting on your bed.
You looked so peaceful lying there fast asleep. Yunho didn’t want to wake you up. But, you were legitimately dreaming about Yunho in that moment, calling his name in a whisper and clutching the air as if you were clutching him.
Yunho turned your head and bent down to kiss you, his lips gently taking your upper lip. It was a long and sweet kiss. Yunho thought that you would for sure wake up like Sleeping Beauty or some other princess, but you were still asleep. He couldn’t wait for you to wake up, though. His cock was itching, aching to pleasure you greatly.
Sloppy kisses echoed in the room as Yunho trailed his lips across your collarbones to your neck. You moaned quietly, shifted, and hugged Yunho with your eyes still closed— you ended up waking up when you felt his hair tickle your cheek. Your hand ran up from his shoulder to the back of his head, your fingers running through his hair.
“Yunho…?” you murmured.
“Yes, baby,” Yunho replied softly.
“Oh, good! You’re here,” you giggled softly while guiding his head towards yours. “I need you. My body needs you.”
“R-really?” Despite knowing that you were masturbating to him, he was still taken aback. He was in love with you, after all.
You nodded and shot him a small, loving smile before kissing his lips. Yunho was overjoyed. He was so overjoyed, in fact, that he could hold himself back. He was grabbing at your body and bringing you closer as if you would run away if he even let go of you for a split second. He rolled onto his back as you laid on his chest, your lips still locking with his, his tongue still playing with yours.
“I… I need you in me. Right now,” you broke the chain, breathing heavily as you spoke to him.
You tucked your thumb under your waistband and pulled your pajama pants along with panties down. Yunho was seriously over the moon. Eagerly, he helped you out of all of your clothes and stripped himself down at the speed of light so that he could swiftly enter you.
Yunho was overly eager. You had to hold onto his arms or shoulders to keep yourself upright as he thrust rapidly and harshly into your sopping wet cunt. Flinging your head back, you cried out in pure bliss when you felt his cock hit deep inside you, waves of pleasure spreading through your body rapidly.
There was no way you were ever going to be able to pleasure yourself properly, you thought to yourself as Yunho’s penis made you cum harder than you ever had before. There was no way you were going to be able to ever be satisfied, not when your dream was this fucking good.
When Yunho came, he came inside you. A thought about breeding you briefly flitted in his mind before he shut that down. He desperately wanted to be with you like that— he wanted to get married to you, have kids with you, and grow old with you. But, that was never going to happen. You were a human, he was a demon, and life was a bitch. He had to settle for being your “dream man” for now.
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You were starting to feel weird. For a week straight, you had dreams about Yunho, and when you woke up, you were exhausted. There definitely was no way that the dream was real, which meant that you were dreaming so hard that your body wasn’t getting any rest, or something like that. You tried to rationalize it by yourself, but you realized that you just couldn’t figure it out alone.
You met up with one of your friends for coffee one day. Your friend expressed concern when she saw you literally chugging your coffee to get a new one.
“Okay, I haven’t been sleeping that great lately,” you started.
“Lay it on me, girl.”
“I’ve been having these… Dreams…”
“What kinds of dreams?”
You coughed. You were slightly embarrassed that you were going to admit to your friend that you were having wet dreams, but you had to tell her. “They’re, uh, sex dreams.”
“Oh?”
“And it’s so weird because it’s always the same guy… I’ve never seen the guy in real life before either, so I have no idea who I’m dreaming about.”
“Maybe you saw him in passing once, and now you just think about him.”
“Yeah… Maybe…”
You sighed and took a sip of your third coffee of the day— you had chugged yet another one right before you started explaining your reason for being exhausted to your friend.
“What goes on in these dreams?” she prompted you further.
“Well, he fucks me in every dream,” you said with a slight blush on your face.
“And how is it?”
“Honestly? …Fucking amazing.”
“Oh yeah?”
You nodded eagerly. “Yeah, like, oh my God! If I had sex like that in real life with that guy, I’d grab on and never let go.”
“Maybe we should go look for him? Make your dream a reality?”
You let out a little laugh— there was no way Yunho was real, but sure, you could go hunting for him.
There was a brief moment of silence between you and your friend before you admitted in a hushed tone, “But… Sometimes… I wonder if the dreams are real…”
“What on Earth? What do you mean by that?” you friend asked, her eyes wide.
“Like, I’ll wake up with my back just sore as hell, or my neck kind of bruised—”
“Like a hickey?”
“No, just… Sore and barely bruised. It’s also, like, an entire area and not a small mark.”
“Girly, I think it’s your bed. Get some new pillows and a new mattress.”
“I should… But my mattress cannot be the reason why I’m exhausted.”
“Have you been sleeping?” your friend asked (dumbly).
“Well, obviously, because how the fuck else would I dream about this all the time?” you responded while rolling your eyes. “But… I think I’m just dreaming about it so much that it’s exhausting when I wake up because I wasn’t, like, fully asleep or something…”
“Like lucid dreaming?”
“Yeah! That. Like that. What should I do to stop the lucid dreaming?”
“I think you need to see a doctor. It sounds like it could be sleep apnea or something as well.”
You nodded and continued talking to your friend.
Meanwhile, Yunho and his demon buddies, in their demon forms, were watching you from a distance while eavesdropping on your conversation (incubi had impeccable hearing).
“Yunho, leave her alone. You need to stop with her,” San lectured his friend with a frown.
“It’s easier said than done—”
“No, dude! If you really love her, then don’t do this!” Mingi interrupted.
Yunho sighed and looked down. His friends were right. You were getting weaker by the day, and it was his fault. But, he loved you, and he loved making love to you, and at that point, he’d rather have you die because of him and not because of some other factor. More morbid thoughts filled his head as he pondered his relationship with you.
“How many times has it been, Yunho?” San asked with a heavy sigh.
“…I don’t remember.”
“You don’t remember?! Are you fucking nuts?!” San shrieked.
Mingi stared at Yunho. He knew that his friend was lying. He grabbed Yunho’s shoulder and said almost threateningly, “You know. You know how many times you’ve slept with her, so tell us the truth and stop fucking lying to us.”
“Eighteen times…”
San nearly lost his shit and berated the demon, but he held back. With a frustrated scream, San told Yunho to get his shit together before flying off.
“We just don’t want you to leave us, Yunho. Please leave that woman alone,” Mingi spoke to his friend softly.
Yunho bowed his head. He couldn’t promise a single damn thing, and Mingi knew that. Mingi patted Yunho’s shoulder and took off as well, leaving Yunho alone to stare longingly at you.
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“Nngh, Yunho,” you whined as you felt the tip of his tongue roll around your clit.
Your dream was really catering to you this time. This time around, Yunho was so gentle— although, he usually is gentle with you— and really focused on you. He was eating you out, and you were trembling under his sensual touch.
Yunho pushed your thigh up so that your leg ended up resting on his shoulder as his tongue prodded into you. You quivered when you felt his tongue go deeper inside you and run up the walls of your cunt. When he slurped up your arousal fluid, you felt your face get hot. You were embarrassed for a split second until you felt his tongue flick your clit back and forth, causing that thought to leave your mind and focus on keeping it together.
Two of his fingers rushed into you, and he fingered you fast. There was so much friction happening between your walls thanks to his fingers that you felt like he was about to start a fire in your cunt. His tongue continued to go after your clit ruthlessly, and his fingers refused to let up as you felt yourself reach your climax. You grabbed onto Yunho’s hair and held him tightly as you let out the most sonorous, pleasureful cry while squirting several times, your ass and thighs shaking. You were still moaning and crying after you finished, the feeling of him pleasuring you with just his tongue and fingers not leaving you so fast.
Through bleary eyes, you watched a tiny smirk appear on Yunho’s face. He looked so pleased with work, his fingers rubbing up and down your folds as he felt up your wetness.
“Oh, God… Yunho,” you sighed as you flung your head back into your pillow, stars starting to fill your vision. “So… Fucking… Good…”
With that, you were out like a light. Yunho looked at you completely passed out, your hair splayed wildly, your bare chest moving up and down rhythmically, and your pussy still quivering, luring him.
He wished you were awake, but he didn’t have it in him to wake you up, nor did he have it in him to just up and walk away. You looked so fucking sexy to him— he finger-fucked you senseless, and it gave up a sort of pride to see that he was the one who did that to you. His boner was pressing hard against his pants. He needed to relieve it, and seeing as how your cunt was unsheathed and still soaking wet, he tentatively but ultimately used you to calm his throbbing dick down.
Already shirtless, Yunho just unbuckled and pulled his pants down. He moved your legs so that they were on either side of him, his cock resting on top of your stomach. He lifted your hips upwards, your ass barely on the bed at that point, before rubbing his length along your folds. You moaned slightly when he pushed the tip of his cock into you, but you were still asleep. Even when his cock entered you entirely, you had yet to wake up again. You were out cold.
Yunho felt so wrong fucking you, the woman he loves, while you were asleep, but when your pussy clenched around his dick, he gasped and shivered, all logic and reasoning leaving his head. He had to fuck you. He had to fuck you until your cunt was quivering and throbbing. He had to fuck you until he filled you up completely with his sperm, cumming more than several times inside you.
Without letting up, Yunho just kept thrusting and thrusting and thrusting into you sometimes softly, sometimes with immense force at different tempos and rhythms. His breathing was rough and ragged, and at times he wanted to stop, but your pussy was so addicting that he just couldn’t. Even after he filled you up to the point where cum was literally overflowing from your pussy, he wanted more. But, for the night, he had to stop. It was almost sunrise.
You were drained as fuck when you woke up the next morning. Your back was hurting, and your chest would hurt any time you inhaled too deeply. Something was wrong, but you didn’t know what it was. All you knew was that it was starting to scare you a little how adverse your body was starting to react.
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San decided to check in on you one day. He debated changing into his human form, but the second he saw your physical state, he realized that he didn’t need to. He immediately departed for Yunho’s place to berate him.
“If you keep this up, Yunho, you’re going to die, too!”
San was walking, more like chasing, behind Yunho while lecturing him, Yunho walking away from his friend, trying to avoid the conversation. Technically speaking, he could just fly away, but San would follow even in the air, and he didn’t feel like using that energy to have the argument. 
“Since when do demons care about whether or not a human dies?!” Yunho shot right back.
“Because you love this specific human, and I know you! I know that if she dies, it’ll kill you! Do you really want to end up like Yeosang?!”
“Stop fucking bringing him up, San! Yeosang died because he chose to kill himself. I’m going to keep living after Y/N dies, so fucking leave me alone!”
“I seriously fucking doubt it, asshole,” San flew right in front of Yunho, getting the man to stop moving. “You’re such a sentimental bastard. There’s no way you would kill her without it haunting you forever. You would never be able to live with the fact that you killed the love of your undead life!”
“Just shut the fuck up, San! I know!” Yunho started crying. “I don’t want her to die, but I can’t… I can’t control myself! Every time I see her, I just want to make love to her all night long!”
“Then stay away from her! This world so big. You can fly to another country and make your rounds there! Forget about her. Let her go, and let her live.”
Yunho nodded slowly. San was right. He knew San was right.
“How many times have you slept with her, now?” San asked, afraid to hear the number.
“Thirty.”
“Shit… You need to get the fuck away from her. Right now. Go.”
San shooed Yunho away, Yunho taking off. San watched his friend fly away, praying to their demon overlord that Yunho would listen to him for once.
But of course, Yunho wasn’t going to listen. After all, his love for you superseded logic and reason.
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You were losing it. You were so fucking drained, your dreams continuing to exhaust you. You kept thinking that it had to be real, that there was no way you body would be so worn down just by dreaming about sex. Yet, when you woke up in the morning, nothing seemed to be out of place. You looked exactly like you did before you went to bed the night before except with your hair a little bit messier and your clothes just a tiny bit wrinkled.
It was hot outside, and yet, you were shivering. After requesting the day off from work, you dragged yourself to the doctor’s office to see what the fuck was going on with your body.
“Well, Y/N. You’re fine… I don’t know what to tell you,” the doctor said while scratching their head— they were confused as well.
“There’s gotta be some sort of explanation!” you exclaimed. “You seriously didn’t hear anything wrong with my breathing? Because I have been having difficulty breathing, and I shouldn’t be shivering like this when it’s summer!”
“It’s baffling to me too, Y/N! I wish I could give you an answer for all this, but I seriously can’t find anything abnormal… Have you been sleeping well?”
“Not at all.”
“Well, that’s a start. Why haven’t you been sleeping well?”
“I keep having these… Dreams…”
“Nightmares?”
“No, it feels too good to be a nightmare…” you admitted before immediately clamping your mouth shut. You were already mortified that one of your friends knew about your sexual dreams, and you didn’t need to embarrass yourself in front of your doctor. “The main thing is that these dreams are so hyperrealistic that they leave me feeling more exhausted when I wake up.”
“Alright…” your doctor scribbled on a pad. “I’m going to put in an order for this medication, so start with this, and if your sleep is still disturbed, then we’ll do a sleep study for you.”
You nodded and took the prescription from the doctor, and you thanked the doctor before you left the building. Immediately after leaving, you picked up the new prescription from the doctor and went home to test it out immediately.
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The pills worked. About an hour after you took one dose, you passed out in bed. You were so knocked out that you didn’t even realize that Yunho sat on the bed and immediately started feeling you up. Although, despite the fact that you were fast asleep, that didn’t stop you from moaning when you felt his fingers run up your calf, along your thigh, and to your crotch.
“Y/N,” he whispered as he left soft kisses along your exposed arm. “Baby…”
He had laid beside you and was touching any and every part of you with a feather light touch. You smiled softly and turned towards him, but you were still completely asleep. Even when he brushed your hair behind your ear and ran his fingertips from your forehead to your chin, you remained asleep. Yunho trapped your lower lip in between his fingers before dragging you towards him, his lips overtaking yours. He was amazed when he realized that you were kissing back. You, fully asleep, were responding to his advances. It was exhilarating.
Yunho kissed you passionately for a solid several minutes before releasing you, a sigh escaping your lungs, and a pout settling on your face. You, unconsciously, did not want Yunho to stop. Yunho didn’t want to stop either, especially not while his crotch was getting tighter by the second. Sitting up to kneel, Yunho removed his pants, his cock springing out.
It wasn’t until that moment did Yunho feel like a real incubus. Usually, he would wake up whoever it was he was going to sleep with because he felt kind of uncomfortable making love to someone who was unresponsive (for the most part), but you could not be awoken. He spat on his hand and stroked his dick a couple times before moving so that his cock was positioned right by your lips. It was only when Yunho held your face with one hand and squeezed your cheeks did your mouth open properly, allowing him to slip his dick into your mouth.
Your tongue swirled around his cock the deeper it went into your mouth, and even half fucking asleep, you still gagged and stayed asleep. Yunho bit back moans as he felt you suck hard on him, and he had to control himself as he began to thrust gently into your mouth. You were moaning lightly with his dick still deep in your mouth, and the stimulation was too much for him to handle. Grabbing your head, he pushed you towards him and shoved deep into your throat, his cock twitching and throbbing as he came in your mouth.
“Fuck,” Yunho hissed as he realized what he had done after it was over.
He pulled out from your mouth and watched a trail of white connect your tongue to the tip of his penis. When you closed your mouth and swallowed, Yunho couldn’t take it. His cock stiffened almost immediately, and he desperately wanted to be inside you.
Usually, he would take your clothes off carefully, but Yunho couldn’t bear it any longer. He snatched your pants off and nearly tore your night shirt as he removed that as well. He left your panties on and just pushed them to the side quickly so he could be inside you as soon as possible. He groaned loudly as he felt how fucking tight you were despite him fucking you so many times. He loved your body so goddamn much.
As he rolled his hips into you repeatedly, he also massaged your breasts, earning sweet moans and sighs from you. It was a wonder how you hadn’t woken up yet. Even when he slammed his pelvis into you, you were still asleep. It turned Yunho on more than it should’ve.
“Y/N, baby, oh fuck,” Yunho bit out; he was so close to cumming.
Your moans had turned into whimpers and whines by that point because your body was also ready. Yunho came first, and he came inside you, only to feel your arousal fluid start to squirt out of you. As soon as he pulled out, you squirted and cried loudly, your entire body shaking as your orgasmed. Yunho for sure thought you would wake up by that point, but you were still fucking fast asleep. Those were some strong fucking pills.
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The medication the doctor gave you was working— it knocked you out, and you hadn’t dreamt about Yunho since you started taking it, but you were still run down. You noticed that you were losing weight rapidly and that you could barely keep food down. You were dehydrated no matter how much water you drank, and the cherry on top to the whole goddamn thing was that you felt like you were dying, but your doctor said you were fine.
“Let’s get you on that sleep study, okay?” the doctor said. “Maybe we’ll get some answers from there. If not, we can go through more tests, but the sleep one first.”
You got set up for the sleep study and slept for the first time in a while without the medication the doctor provided, and you didn’t dream. Not once.
Yunho, in his demon form, sat in the room with you while you laid in the bed for the study. He watched the way your eyelashes would flutter, the way your lips would part slightly as you switched from breathing with your nose to your mouth, and the small, cute little freckles that he missed seeing when he was too busy fucking you. God, he loved you so much. So fucking much.
Mingi met up with Yunho the next morning, the two of them standing and watching the nurse take the electrodes off you.
“Yunho. She looks like shit.”
“Shut the fuck up, she’s beautiful—”
“She was beautiful.” Mingi interrupted. “You’re sucking the life out of her… What number have you hit now?”
Yunho couldn’t respond. The number was forty, but he didn’t want to say the number out loud because he hoped that he was wrong, that he hadn’t slept with you so many times.
“You know what you need to do if you want to keep her on this planet,” Mingi stated.
“I do.”
“Are you going to do it?”
A tear rolling down his cheek, Yunho turned to Mingi and shook his head. He couldn’t stay away. He loved you.
“You really are a demon, Yunho.”
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You got the results back— they were normal. You were actually so fucking confused. How could you feel miserable but be completely disease free whenever you tested for anything? You scheduled a couple more check ups at the hospital, but you knew that deep down, there were going to be no results, that you were going to be labelled as fine. Still, you had to go through the check ups for the sake of going through them.
You stopped taking the medication by that point, wondering if the medication was actually making it worse. You hadn’t dreamt about sex with Yunho in so long, but to prepare, you studied up on lucid dreaming. If you dreamt about him that night, you were going to snap out of the dream. You were going to find natural ways to stop the dreams from keeping you up.
And so, you went to bed that night, fully expecting to wake up in your lucid dream.
It’s just a lucid dream, you told yourself when you stirred from your slumber. You knew the ways to wake up from a lucid dream, and you were going to put them to the test today, but when you saw Yunho, you couldn’t. Fuck, he was just a figment of your imagination— how did you fall for someone that wasn’t even real?
And yet, your heart ached when you saw him sitting on the edge of your bed. He looked so sad. Why was your lucid dream doing this to you?
“Yunho?” you whispered gently.
Yunho turned his head.
“Oh, Y/N. You’re awake?”
“I’m… Awake?”
You couldn’t process the words— Yunho fully embraced you tightly, his arms squeezing you to the point where you definitely could have broken a bone. He dug his nose into your hair and inhaled deeply, making you tingle all over.
“I miss you,” he whispered sadly.
You were rendered speechless when he dropped his head into the nook of your neck and left a soft, sensual kiss on your exposed skin. You felt yourself get swept away in his affection when he lifted you and laid you down on the bed so that he was pinning you down before immediately running his hands up your shirt.
Yunho was urgently trying to get you out of your clothes. He should’ve taken his time with you knowing that it was going to be the last time, but the fact that you were actually awake this time made him overly eager to be intimate with you. He got you out of your clothes in record time, his hands roaming your body immediately.
You moaned loudly and flung your head back as you felt his mouth meet your breast. While his mouth worked on your breast, his fingers moved down to stroke your— you didn’t realize that you were so completely wet— cunt, his finger brushing along your clit several times. You were whining and rocking your hips gently as his fingers teased you and his teeth tugged on your nipple.
“You like that, baby?” Yunho, after leaving your nipple with a slightly painful suck, asked you softly.
You nodded, words still evading you. Your brain was starting to go numb with pleasure, and truth be told, you felt as if you were nearing your climax in record time. Yunho, however, noticed your eyes start to roll back as you suppressing your incoming orgasm, so he stopped. He wanted, nay, needed to be inside you and feel your walls tighten around his throbbing penis.
Yunho leaned away from you to remove his own clothes, making you miss the warmth of his physical contact. Your arms reached out for him silently, and that’s when you noticed that Yunho’s face was twisted into a painful frown.
“Yunho?” you whispered, a word finally leaving your lips. “What’s wrong?”
Immediately shaking his head, the frown left, and Yunho smiled at you, but you could tell that his smile was fake. You knew him well by that point, and that smile was definitely not how he usually smiled at you.
But, you didn’t get time to press further. Yunho was completely naked and about to make love to you. He pinned you on the bed once more and rubbed his cock against your clit a couple times.
There was a little nagging voice in the back of Yunho’s mind, and that voice was a mix between San and Mingi telling him not to fuck you. And he seriously didn’t want to because he wanted you to stay alive for him, but the thought of not being able to sleep with you ever again also drove him insane.
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Yunho whispered.
You didn’t know what Yunho was apologizing for— you thought it was because he thrust into you so hard without warning, but it was really because he was sorry for what was going to happen to you after. His cock went deep inside you and nearly hit your cervix, but Yunho controlled himself because he didn’t want you to cum so fast. He wanted to fuck you for as long as humanly possible. He wondered if he could just keep his penis inside you until the end of time, that way you could stay alive, but he was itching to move.
Your back arched with every stroke of pleasure, and you felt yourself get lightheaded as euphoria approached. The way Yunho was rolling his hips into you made you feel so fucking good, so fucking sexy, and you wanted more and more. You held onto his shoulders and pulled him towards you, connecting your lips with his, and you kept your hold on him as you desperately made out with him.
You missed Yunho too. Although it was just your brain, you missed having such satisfying sex with him. He made you feel incredibly good when he ran his hands along your waist and over your hips, and his long cock filled you so well that you felt like your cunt was truly made for him.
“Oh my God, Yunho!” you stopped kissing him and cried out when you felt his waist start slamming into yours. “Faster!”
Yunho shivered. Hearing you order him around nearly made him cum. Nonetheless, he listened to you. He thrust into you as fast as he could, making you feel like his penis was going to pull your insides out with his speed, girth, and power. You felt your head press further back into the pillow below your head, your hold on Yunho getting tighter to the point where you were definitely leaving nail marks in his skin.
“Fu-uck,” Yunho bit out. “I’m cumming.”
He didn’t want to. He really didn’t want to, but he couldn’t hold himself back anymore, especially not after seeing you all sexy and disheveled under you. Shutting his eyes tightly and letting a singular tear roll down his cheek, Yunho released his load in you, his white and sticky cum filling you up.
The feeling of Yunho’s cum spurting into you was the final thing you needed to bring you to climax. As soon as he pulled out, you came loudly, your cry echoing loudly in the room.
What Yunho feared happened almost immediately. Your hold on him weakened, your arms slipping to your sides. He immediately wrapped his arms around you and brought you up, desperately praying that if he did anything, you wouldn’t pass. He kissed your lips, ran his hands through your hair, placed his hand over your heart, but nothing. Just as it was for centuries, forty-two was the unfortunate number, and the two of you had reached it.
You felt your conscious slipping from you, and as your eyelids grew heavy, you noticed that Yunho’s form had suddenly changed. He went from being the tall man with the fair skin and soft brown hair to this red skinned, horned devil with scales covering his body and wings sprouting from his back. He looked like himself, but it was a horrible terrifying version of himself with solid, black eyes, fangs, and long ears that stuck straight out of the side of his head. In other words, Yunho was a demon, and you knew that he was right in your last moments— you immediately knew that sex with Yunho was not a dream, and that you were most definitely awake every time you consciously fucked him.
His demon form terrified you to the point where you were able to let out a scream and try your best to get away from him, but you passed out before you could even push you away, and soon, everything faded to black for you. Completely. Forever.
Yunho, seeing that he had actually transformed into his demon self right before you fully died, was mortified. How could your very last memory of him be his true self and not the man of your dreams? He felt like in the most literal sense that he scared you to death.
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Yunho finally understood how Yeosang felt. He stayed in his invisible demon form and kept an eye on your decaying body until someone discovered you. He followed you all the way to the hospital and accompanied your family as they set up a proper funeral for you.
During the entire funeral, Yunho wept. He had so, so many regrets. He regretted having sex with you so many times, he regretted not stopping before he hit forty-two, and he regretted not telling you that he loved you. He did not, however, regret falling in love with you. If he could, he’d do it all over again.
Yunho seriously could not move on after you. He found some people to help him elongate his life, but he couldn’t live with the guilt of knowing that he killed the love of his life. San and Mingi did their best to help Yunho keep it together, but the same way Yeosang had vanished, Yunho did too. There was no point in staying around if he couldn’t be with you.
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kittyball23 · 5 months
Text
Moments (a Trolls fanfic)
Summary: There were times, no doubt - even as much as he tried not to think about them - that some kind of event would make Branch remember his long-gone brothers
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“Oh, hey, Branch… just wondering if I could borrow something….”
Branch raised an eyebrow at Poppy, thoroughly confused. “What?”
“Your bunker!”
Before he could ask what she meant, dozens upon dozens of Trolls who had not been captured by the Chef Bergen came tumbling down the sloping tunnel that led down into his bunker. Some squealed in delight as they slid down, and as soon as they’d reached the bottom began to ransack the place, grabbing the food and drinks that were there.
“No! No! Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait!” Branch called out. But nobody was listening. He groaned, knowing that there would be a lot of cleanup to do to his brothers’ rooms once they were all gone and out of there. And they would be, if he could help it. But first, he had to talk to the pink princess, who had brought all the Trolls in there without his permission in the first place.
__________________________________________
Finally, Branch thought, observing the stunned look on Poppy’s face that was an expression other than the smiles and laughs she’d had for the past hour.
He turned away from her, continuing the trek through the forest and avoiding staring too long at the hurt that was in her eyes. He ignored the little feeling inside of him that made him feel bad for what he’d said, and vouched to listen to the side of him that had dominated his survivalist lifestyle. It’s the truth, he reasoned. And if she doesn’t like it, that’s her problem.
Poppy soon recovered and scurried up to his side in an effort to defend herself. “Hey! I know it’s not all cupcakes and rainbows, but I’d rather go through life thinking that it mostly is, instead of being like you.” She frowned slightly at him and vented the frustrations she had in her failure to get him to be a part of the Troll community. “You don’t sing. You don’t dance. You’re so gray all the time! What happened to you?”
Branch had to suppress a snort. You don’t know the HALF of it, he wanted to say. And Poppy didn’t need to know his business. She didn’t need to know what happened to his grandmother, or even before that event, when his four older brothers had picked up and left, leaving him to fend for himself with hardly a fair reason why. It had been his first taste of the real world and its cruelty. Something that Poppy clearly hadn’t been exposed to. But Branch knew better than to go make his comment and stir even more questions from the curious princess. He held up a hand and suddenly hushed her. “SHH!”
Poppy halted, her fuchsia eyes wide. “Bergen?” she asked.
“Maybe,” he whispered back.
It was only a few moments later, when Branch proceeded and when nothing ominous seemed to be lurking in the shadows, did Poppy realize what was really going on.
“There’s no Bergen, is there? You just said that so I’d stop talking!”
Branch stopped to answer once again. “Maybe.”
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Who does this guy think he is? Branch’s inner thoughts growled.
He and Poppy were wasting valuable time, standing here and putting up with this cloud dude’s antics. If Poppy really cared about the safety of her friends, then she’d see how pointless this whole thing was. But nooooo. She had to be there, off to the side, giggling at Branch’s perplexion and at how the socked cloud was snickering.
Yeah… he’s getting socked by the time THIS is over, Branch thought, and this time he wasn’t speaking of the cloud’s article of clothing.
Since the high-five had failed to follow through, Branch was now forced to implement a fist-bump. But he should have known better than to believe it was going to be that easy. As soon as Branch began moving his fist forward, Cloud Guy reacted with a series of hand motions that were literally anything EXCEPT the fist-bump that he himself had wanted to do. Branch was far too baffled to be mad when it was happening, having no clue what a ‘shark attack,’ ‘hand sandwich,’ ‘monkey in a zoo,’ and whatever other nonsense the cloud was saying even was… and thinking of a certain yellow-haired prankster who just might.
But the fleeting thought of his older, jokey brother vanished when Branch felt his arm hauled roughly from side to side, while Cloud Guy made engine-like sounds. “BRRRM! VRRRM! BRRRRRM! BRUUM!”
Then, he did something that made Branch’s patience wear even thinner than it already was. He laughed, an obnoxious, chortling laugh. And Poppy laughed, too!
“Okay, okay, okay,” Cloud Guy said, recomposing himself. “Now I’m thinking we hug.”
There went the last straw.
With a scowl, Branch grabbed a stick, broke it in half, and aimed the sharp ends at Cloud Guy with a menacing look in his eyes.
Cloud Guy finally seemed to get the message.
He stood there with his outstretched hands, turning a thundercloud-gray and raining a puddle of fear on the ground. He was in for it now.
With a shout, Branch gave chase, with Poppy running after him in alarm.
“Branch! No! Wait! He’s just a cloud! He can help us! He’s just a cloud! Run, Cloud Guy, RUN!”
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Here she was, at it again. Only this time, Poppy was refusing to drop the subject, and Branch couldn’t think of a way to divert the topic. She was being very blunt with him, and it was driving him up the wall.
“You have to sing,” she insisted.
“I told you, I don’t sing,” he argued.
“Well, you have to.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t.” They could go back and forth like this all day for all Branch cared.
Poppy frowned at him. “You can. You just won’t.”
“Fine. I just won’t,” Branch grumbled stubbornly.
“You have to!” she cried.
“NO!”
“Why not! Why won’t you sing?” Poppy demanded.
“Because singing killed my grandma, okay!” Branch finally blurted. He turned his face away from her and the rest of the Snack Pack who’d gasped at this revelation, so that they couldn’t see the tears forming in his eyes. “Now leave me alone…”
Poppy had gotten her answer, but even as he asked to have his space, he had known that she wouldn’t just stop there. Thankfully, her approach was less pestering than it had been a few seconds ago. She cautiously approached him, and spoke in a soft voice.
“How did singing kill your grandma?” Poppy asked. Then, even more confused, added, “What song was she singing?”
Branch sighed. “I was the one singing…” he admitted, hanging his head in shame as the horrible images flashed through his mind. Of how tall and ominous the Chef had looked when snatching his Grandma. Of her terrified face, fearful at first for nearly coming to lose her only remaining grandson, and then fearful for the fate that awaited her in the Bergen’s stomach. He’d turned gray once he’d come to the awful realization that nobody – not his parents, not his brothers, nor his Grandmother – were there with him anymore.
Poppy felt terrible hearing his abridged version of the memory, and she’d leaned in to give him a hug.
“Whoa, whoa, it’s not Hug Time,” he said, a little half-heartedly and not making any moves to shove her away.
“I just thought you could use one,” she replied, pressing him a little tighter against her.
While Branch didn’t allow the smirk that wanted to tug at the corner of his lip to show, he still did kind of enjoy the condolence that her hug brought.
Heh, his conscience even chuckled, I guess she does know the half of it, now.
But Branch would make sure not to have her find out the second half of his story until much, much later. His brothers were not relevant to the conversation. And, considering it from the point of view of Poppy and the Snack Pack, they probably sought it as a suitable enough explanation for his pessimism.
So Branch just let it be.
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Survivalism meant having plenty of tactics handy. So killing two birds with one stone, so to speak, was a very beneficial strategy. And it was working oh so very well for Branch as he, in a heartfelt manner, whispered elegant words from atop of Bridget’s head.
“Your eyes… they’re like two pools so deep, I fear if I dive in, I may never come up for air…”
Bridget repeated the words, a little hesitantly, to King Gristle, who sat across from her with a frown on his face, believing that she had been intent on mocking him before. As he heard her speak, however, his frown disappeared, and the Bergen was enraptured by the sudden compliments she was giving him.
Or, so it seemed. Branch was guiding her alright, but it wasn’t King Gristle who’d he had in mind when he was speaking. It was a certain Pop Princess, who, at that moment, was staring in awe at Branch as he continued.
“And your smile… the sun itself turns jealous and refuses to come out from behind the clouds, knowing it cannot shine half as bright…”
King Gristle chuckled bashfully when Bridget had finished repeating those words. “I kinda do have a nice smile, don’t I?”
Branch’s gaze shifted to Poppy, whispering the next words as he looked directly at her.
“Yes, you do.”
If Branch squinted his eyes, he could’ve sworn he saw Poppy blush, but the dim lighting underneath Bridget’s rainbow-colored wig was making it a little difficult to see all that well. There was a warmth tingling through him, one that he recognized would blossom whenever he thought of the princess, only it was more pronounced this time around. Had he really said those words out loud? He couldn’t help wondering which one of his brothers would be prouder – Spruce, for coming off as so incredibly romantic and likely winning Poppy over with his charming flattery, or Floyd, for how poetically crafted his words were. Either way, it had produced the exact effect that Branch had wanted.
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Branch flinched at the loud, bellowing sound that came out of the large creature standing before them. A second later, Poppy revealed herself from the inside of it, hanging casually and giving a cheery little greeting wave. Normally, a sight like this would have startled the blue Troll, but the fact that the queen did not show any fear at being in the mouth of the beast - and neither did any of their other friends - relaxed him a bit.
Because this mode of transportation was known as a caterbus, a hybrid living-vehicle sort of being that was perfectly safe to travel inside of.
Branch scrunched his nose. He didn’t mind the creatures that nature had… so long as they were smaller than him. Once they started getting bigger than the standard 5-inch height that Trolls had, he had his reservations. He supposed it was his former fear of Bergens at work. He could never shake off what could have happened if he’d not arrived in time for when the spiders had Poppy wrapped inside their silk.
Not that any of it would have bothered his oldest brother.
Branch rolled his eyes as John Dory’s face suddenly came into mind. With JD’s love for animals, he believed himself to be a whisperer to any creature, big or small. If Branch had to take a guess, John Dory probably had a pet of his own by this point (or several).
But he wasn’t going to guess about what his airheaded brother was doing.
If anything, he was going to take a guess at what Bridget and Gristle’s reactions would be when they learned of Poppy’s crazy idea to give the Bergens a proper holiday!
“Alll aboooard!” Poppy called out, and he and the Snack Pack took it at their cue hop into the caterbus and get this wagon train rolling.
Or rather, the love train.
__________________________________________
Branch shook his head, tilting it to one side and smacking it with his hand as though there was water clogged up in his ears. “Okay, maybe all the jazz hasn’t left my brain yet,” he mumbled, knowing just how out of sorts he’d been when the smooth musical notes had assaulted him on the raft with its soothing melody.
Cooper just laughed at him. “Oh, come on, Branch! It’s me!” the long-necked Troll assured. “Turns out I’m actually from Vibe City, just like my twin brother.” Cooper sidled up to the identical-looking Troll who’d been causing Branch to think that he was still hallucinating.
“What’s poppin’?” Prince Darnell greeted with a grin, as he and Cooper laughed with each other.
“I’ve got a twin brother!” Cooper exclaimed happily. He really couldn’t believe it!
Neither could Branch, who stood there gawking for a moment more while his gaze flicked between the two, back and forth, like a ping pong ball.
And neither could Poppy, who blurted out with “How is this possible?!”
Luckily, Cooper took the next few minutes explaining exactly how. And in the end, Branch found that it was a story of long-lost family coming to finally reunite, happily and heartily, together – at least, if any of the laughs and hugs shared between brothers, mother and father (aka, the King and Queen of Funk) was anything to go by.
Branch watched with a strange pang of envy that was very subtly in the back of his conscience, but still very much present. Envy for how… easy they made it look. Granted, though, Cooper’s story was different. It couldn’t be helped that he’d gotten snatched as an egg, carried off far from his homeland, and therefore separated for just about two whole decades.
A family reunion with his brothers, who had willingly ensured the separation, would be much different…
__________________________________________
Dance off?
Branch hardly had a minute to even think about what was about to happen before the K-Pop gang had hurled him over to them, untying him and promptly starting to bust some moves all around.
Branch was surprised by the sudden change in lighting, and the bouncy, foreign-sounding music that the five girls were making. The K-Pop leader had been right – Pop music was different from K-Pop. Branch didn’t have much time to start nitpicking the specific differences, as Wani shot him a hard glare, making him realize that they’d actually untied him so that he could join in their dance!
Flustered, Branch quickly plastered on a smile and began to groove along with them, surprising himself with how quickly he was able to pick up the choreography. By the time he and the quintet struck the final pose, the smile that he’d had on his face was real.
Wow… was it always this fun dancing in a group?
As if the universe had heard his question, it readily provided an answer when the Reggaeton Troll leader, Tressillo, suddenly grabbed him and hauled him over to their side of the clearing, starting to dance to their own unique beat. Now that Branch actually knew what was happening, he got into the flow much faster, and really was enjoying himself as he kept in time with the other three, shaking his hips and getting down with it.
Ooo, yeah! It really was still fun dancing in a group! They weren’t the exact type of moves that he, John Dory, Spruce, Clay, and Floyd would’ve done if they’d been performing for a BroZone show, but it didn’t matter. He liked the differences… and wished that the bounty hunters would see it the same way, instead of tying him back up and debating the matter.
“Why don’t we split him?” Wani suddenly suggested.
“Huh?” Branch gulped when he saw Tressillo agree to the idea. Just as they were about to close in and divvy him up, he managed to find his voice.
“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait… why does Barb get to decide which music gets to be saved? All music should be saved.”
The K-Pop and Reggaeton Trolls gave him a blank look. Then, Tressillo spoke.
“All right, Pop Troll, I’m listening…”
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By definition, Branch could absolutely say he was sprucin’ up.
Not that he’d use the term. Why would he, when it brought bad reminders of one purple-haired Troll who’d shared his name with the phrase?
Branch hurriedly focused on preparing himself for the occasion, which - he was quite giddy to tell anyone who would ask him once he’d leave the bunker - would be a date with the Pop Queen herself!
He slipped on his vest, shrugging it on his shoulders in a way that he felt to be ‘cool,’ like John Dory may have done.
He tugged on his new burgundy shorts with just about as much enthusiasm as Clay might’ve pulled off in the days that he actually enjoyed wearing the yellow-and-green Funderdrawers.
He fixed his Hug Time bracelet on his wrist, and adjusted a brand-new red bowtie on his neck, recalling how Floyd would’ve taken the same careful measures when clipping on his own accessory, namely, the pearl earring he’d constantly worn.
Last but not least, Branch grabbed a handful of snail-slime goop from a jar, and sleeked it into his dark blue hair, making as shiny and smooth as Spruce himself would have approved of.
Determinedly snapping on some earmuffs and clutching a fresh handful of flowers, he faced the chill afternoon air outside of his bunker with determination.
“Tis the season!”
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A/N: Alright everyone, this will actually be my last daily fic update for the time being. Stay tuned for an announcement that I'll be posting to my blog tomorrow! :)
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