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#colors based off a real sunset i had the joy in watching over an open field
yarichin-imagines · 3 years
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Can I request an Itome x f!reader? I know that Yaribu is a yaoi but I can't help it lmao. Both NSFW and SFW if possible. And I know that Itome and Akemi are dating and I love both of them I just rarely see Itome x Reader.. You don't have to do this btw I just wanted to give it a shot. *runs and hides in a corner*
ok so...I had so much written down for this, and it disappeared...but I’m willing to try again, since I love Itome so much! He's my second favorite under Shikatani! I'm just gonna write this in an AU where Itome and Akemi are not together, since it's easier. I hope this will suffice! I'm really sorry if this wasn't good. I really hope I touched up on everything I had before losing my progress, I want this to be a good story! (note to self...write answers somewhere else before posting...)
--Admin Bii
One might assume that it would be difficult to be in a relationship with Kotaro Itome. I mean, they always say communication is the most important key to a relationship. Being with a guy that said less words in a day that you could count on your fingers might be a challenge to some. Somehow, though, you two managed to make it work. You always made it work. Not everything had to be said verbally between you two, and you both knew it. To some, Itome was rather intimidating. He towered over many people and seemed cold. To you, however, he was anything but. He was like an excitable puppy at times. You could tell when his eyes lit up on seeing you, when he would wait for you every day, and through all the little things he did to make sure you knew he loved you. This day was like all the others. You two had agreed to come back to his dorm after school to "study". In reality, you both knew this was a lie and you were just going to snuggle the day away and said you did something productive. Itome was excited, and you could tell. He looked so antsy waiting for you in the commons of MoriGaku. Once he saw you, he speedwalked over to greet you in his little Itome way, with the softest and warmest smile he had in him. It was so cute, you couldn't help but reciprocate it. He took your hand and laced your fingers together before starting the walk home with you. His hands were always so soft. You couldn't count the number of times Itome's lavender lotion scent intoxicated you and lulled you to sleep as his soft hands combed through your hair. You loved it. It seemed that Itome always had some sort of new facemask to keep his skin clean, a new bottle of hand lotion, or a special conditioner that kept his hair soft enough for you to just want to shove your face in it. Snapping out of that train of thought, the two of you arrived at Itome's dorm. It was incredibly neat, the second neatest in the club (since of course, no one was allowed to have a cleaner dorm than Shikatani...), with everything all organized and in its proper place. It smelled of vanilla, which you loved. He turned on a soft lamp on his nightstand, the gentle glow of pink fusing into the walls, making the dull white paint look like a sunset. He gestured with his head to his bed, signalling for you to get comfy. You took the invitation, getting under the covers and watching him walk into the mini kitchen and come back with a small box. He got in next to you and opened it. Inside the box were two cupcakes from Itome's favorite bakery. One was made just the way he liked his, and one was made with your favorite flavor and iced in your favorite color. You thanked him in Itome's language, a lengthy kiss on the cheek. His face dusted pink as he handed you your cupcake and picked up his own. Small sighs of joy came from both of you as you ate the delicious sweet. When both of you were done, Itome put the box on his nightstand and pulled you into his arms. You rested your head on his chest, taking a deep and happy breath. This might have seemed weird to other couples, just cuddling in dead silence without teasing each other or talking about anything. But to you two, it was perfect. It was familiar, it was wonderful. Eventually, however, you noticed something. Something poking your thigh. Something hard poking your thigh. Something hard and penis-shaped poking your thigh. You looked up at Itome and saw a beautiful sight. His face was that deep red, eyes glossed over in a mix of embarrassment and pure lustful need, and his hand covering his mouth to stop any sounds from leaking out. "Itome-kun~?" You whispered right into his ear, knowing how sensitive his ears were. That concept was proven when a thin whine escaped his throat. You chuckled softly, the puff of air against his ear making a tiny "Ahn--" escape from him. "You got so excited just from cuddling with me, huh? What am I gonna do with you~" You hum, tracing a hand down his chest, thin yet soft stomach, and eventually between his thighs. He immediately gasped shakily and tried to thrust into your hand. You smirked. "Uh uh, baby, you gotta be patient." You chided. In an effort to stop himself from rutting against you, he gripped your shoulders tighty and buried himself in the crook of your neck, paritally to hide his embarrassed face, and partially to give you better access. You took the new area of skin exposed, sucking, kissing, licking, and biting along his earlobe down to his neck. His tiny sobs of need were muffled in your shirt. "You gonna be a good boy for me, Itome?" You whisper, giving him a soft kiss afterwards. He nodded rapidly, crying in need. He needed your warmth. He needed you. "Mmkay, then I need you to strip for me." You gently guided him. He squirmed out of his clothes surprisingly quickly. You giggled at how badly he wanted you. "Now, I want you to take my clothes off." you hummed. Itome nodded, slowly reaching up to unbutton your own shirt. He shivered in pleasure as he saw inch by inch of your skin getting revealed to him, up to your bra. He gave a tiny kiss to your stomach, then unbuttoned the final button as he moved the shirt off of your shoulders. He moved to your skirt next, unzipping it and slowly sliding it down. The moment your panties were revealed, a bit of precum dripped onto your leg. You smirked. "So needy, baby~" You teased, making him shudder. Next, his hands moved behind you to unclasp your bra and free your breasts. He let out an audible whine at seeing them. He wanted to kiss them, suck them, bury his face in them, but he wasn't given permission. He had to finish what he had been asked to do. All that was left was your panties. He slid them down and watched as you spread your legs, revealing your womanhood to him. He swallowed thickly and let out another whine. You reached up and pet his hair. "Good boy...as a reward, we can do it however you want." His eyes lit up at that, and he scrambled over you and onto his back. You giggled. "Want me to ride you, baby?" He nodded rapidly, and that was all you needed. "Do whatever you want baby, I'm yours..." You leave him with, giving him permission. He took that and immediately went to kiss your breasts. His groans and heavy breaths were muffled in your skin, making you groan in response when he started sucking on one of your nipples. He used one hand to support your back, and the other slowly trailed its way down to your womanhood. He traced a finger along it, shivering as he felt the hot wetness cover his finger. He stroked back and forth over your clit a few times before slipping the first finger in to prep you. His other hand made sure you were balanced and then went to dedicate itself to playing with your clit. He went slow prepping you, pushing the other finger in and waiting for you to signal that you were ready to keep going. You took your time to adjust and nodded against him, making him add the third and final finger. He slowly started moving his fingers in and out a few times to get you ready before he pulled them out, making you pout at the sudden feeling of not being full anymore. This feeling, however, didn't last long, given how after he had taken the time to put on a condom, Itome began sliding his dick inside of you. This was the moment he lost all of his composure or will to stay quiet. Having his cock squeezed in such a wet, hot place that was purely you and only you, it was almost too much for him to handle. He kept moving it in until the base hit your hips. You used your hand to push him back down on the bed, letting him fall back onto the pillow. Once you were ready, you started bouncing slowly. He let out a loud moan and gripped the sheets. This spurred you on to go faster, the sound of skin smacking on skin getting more prevalent in the room. He eventually started moving his hips up to meet you, throwing his head back in a loud moan. You couldn't help but smirk, resting your hands on Itome's stomach. His hands shot up to grab your hips and keep you still as he started smashing himself into you with no real pace. It felt too good to focus on a pace. Itome reached for your hand and gripped it tight. He was close. "Me too, baby...me too..." you moan, going as fast as you possibly could. The rubber band holding Itome together snapped, and he came hard. The condom filled up with his seed, making you finish as well, getting his cock even wetter. He didn't want to pull out just yet. He waited for his high to pass before pulling you in for a deep kiss. You kissed for a while before he finally pulled out and disposed of the condom. The both of you flopped back on the bed panting heavily as he pulled you back into his chest. "Love you..." he whispered. You smiled. "I love you too"
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(gahhhh I hope this is ok!)
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Twelve Days of Holly, Jolly Tidings
Disclaimers: I watched “Dash & Lily” the other day on Netflix. This story is LOOSELY based on that book and Netflix series.  I do not own “Dash and Lily” or Newsies or anything recognizable within the series.  There are occasional curse words throughout the series, nothing too horrible but there’s some.  
It’s officially here - I feel like I’ve been teasing this for so long that it’s finally time to post it! This will be updated once a day for the next 12 days. This is a modern Newsies story. Katherine finds out her family won’t be home for Christmas so Jack hatches a plan that shows her the magic of the season, one day at a time, leading up to Christmas Eve. 
Friday, December 13 
The phone call ended as she threw her cell phone across the room as a groan tore through her throat. There was a reason she was living on her own, in her own apartment, away from her parents. But as parents do, they were trying to continue to ruin her life, even though she was in her mid-20s.  
She looked around the small apartment, a smile tugging on her lips. She had lived there for the last year, since graduating college and it was finally starting to feel like her home. She had a real tree set up in the corner, one that her boyfriend, Jack, had helped her set up the weekend before.  Her stocking was hung on the electric fireplace mantel, ready to be filled by Jolly Old St. Nick.  As her eyes swept the area, she paused, seeing a wrapped present under the tree that wasn’t there earlier. 
Walking over to the tree, she sank to her knees, pulling the box that was wrapped in blue snowman paper towards her.  Sliding her finger under the wrapping paper, she quickly unwrapped the box, tossing the paper off to the side. Popping open the box, she saw an emerald green notebook sitting in the box.  A smile on her face, she pulled it out, untying the ribbon around the notebook before opening the book.  On the inside cover was a sketch of her and him, looking out over the city, the sunset in front of them.  Pausing to take in the beauty of the drawing, she smiled seeing the little details Jack had included - the freckles across her face, his hand on her back steadying her as she laughed about something he had said, and the lone light in the corner of his apartment building’s roof. 
Flipping to the first page, she bit her lip seeing Jack’s familiar handwriting.
Katherine,
Happy First Day of Christmas, darlin’. This is a pre-Christmas present for you.  I have twelve different adventures for you, one each day leading up to Christmas Eve.  You said something a couple of days about not seeing the magic in Christmas, due to you being alone on Christmas. Well get ready, my girl, because I’m bound and determined to show you the true magic of the season. 
Now for your first adventure, you’re to go to Rockefeller Center. Once you’re there, grab a hot chocolate and just take in the sights, sounds, and energy around the tree. 
Love you, 
Jack 
Her eyes read over the words once more before shutting the book, grabbing her bag and coat before shoving her feet into her boots. Making her way to the front door, she slammed it behind her, pounding down the stairs, heading out onto the cold New York City streets.  
She hopped on the D train, settling into her seat, watching a group of kids to her left who were talking loudly. Farther down, someone was playing “Have a Merry Little Christmas” on the trumpet. She listened to the music as she swayed with the train as it made its way into Manhattan.   Before long the train pulled into the 47-50 Sts-Rockefeller Ctr station. Putting her bag across her body, she made her way out of the subway and headed to street level. Getting her bearings, she headed towards the massive tree that was fully decorated for the holidays. 
She flushed her body against the building as people rushed around her.  She took a deep breath, watching business men rush to their meetings and women pull their children along to get to wherever they needed to go. She watched teenagers skirt around the groups, laughing about whatever was said. But the thing that caught her attention is that very few people pay attention to the 75-foot tree that was in the middle of the mayhem. 
She tipped her head back, looking up at the tree, her eyes taking in the multi-colored bulbs twinkling. The tree never failed to make her pause in her goings - the sheer height of the tree was something to behold along with the thousands of lights that seemed to sparkle, no matter the angle you took the tree in from. Smiling, she pushed off the building, heading closer to the tree.  
Dashing into an adjacent coffee shop, she rubbed her hands together quickly as the door slammed behind her. Her eyes swept the small shop, smiling at the few customers that milled around before grinning brightly at the barista. She quickly ordered a peppermint hot chocolate, with whip cream.  She smiled at the barista as she handed her the festive hunter green to-go cup. Inhaling the sweet smell, she made her way back out onto Rockefeller Center, quickly finding a bench to sit on, pulling her bag onto her lap.
Pulling out the notebook, she flipped back to the page she read earlier. Flipping to the next page, Jack’s letter continued. 
So you’re on a bench at Rockefeller Center, with a hot chocolate in hand (don’t look shocked . . . I do know you pretty well).  Now close your eyes . . . just trust me and close them.  Listen to what is around you, relax and just listen.
Relaxing on the bench, she sat up straight, her hot chocolate in her right hand before closing her eyes. In the moments she had her eyes closed, she picked up on children’s laughter, sequels of joy, the awe of seeing the tree for the first time, the soft murmurs of people talking, and a stillness within the center that she didn’t notice right away. Slowly opening her eyes, she swept the area, looking at everything and nothing all at once. 
Looking down at the notebook, she continued reading Jack’s note. 
What did you hear? Did you hear the laughter of children and adults as they passed by? Did you hear the awes of seeing the tree for the first time? Take a few minutes and write down everything you heard - don’t leave anything too small or too big out. Don’t worry about being a New York Times writer at the moment . . . just write. 
Pulling her favorite green gel pen from her bag, she did just that. Taking sips of her hot chocolate in between the rush of the pen, she grinned, making sure she included every single little detail she had heard and smelled in those quiet moments. 
Got everything down? Good. Now see the gold Prometheus statues?  Just above it are some small bushes. The third one from the left there’s a surprise for you - in exchange leave the notebook and take the present.  
Merry Christmas, Kat. 
Love, Jack 
Her eyes furrowed as she read his instructions.  She had so many questions - most of them she would ask Jack at a later time but she pushed herself up from the bench, draining the rest of her hot chocolate, throwing the cup out as she made her way above the statue. As she neared, she counted the bushes, pausing at the third one.  Her eyes swept the area - just hoping that Jack would be there to surprise her but she bit her lip in disappointment not seeing anyone she knew. 
Bending down, she grabbed the box that was wrapped in the same blue snowman wrapping paper as the notebook instructed, she left the book in the same place as the box. Standing back up, she looked around the area for a bench. Finding one, she took a seat, quickly unwrapping the box before opening it. 
Nestled in the cotton was a small Christmas Tree charm. Picking it up, she smiled. It was just as pretty as the giant tree in front of her. Putting it back in the box, she tucked the box in her bag, looking to where she had left the notebook. Her eyes widened when she realized it wasn’t there - it was gone. 
Meanwhile
Hiding in the shadows, he held the notebook close to his chest as he watched her.  He grinned brightly as she took in the charm. But the grin slid from his mouth as he watched her notice the notebook was gone. He knew she would be so damn observant and that might work against him but this is how it needed to go for his plan to actually work.   Slipping in with the crowd, he walked towards her, keeping his distance so she wouldn’t pick up on him - he had work that needed to be done before the night was over. As much as he would love to watch her and make sure she was okay, he had other things that needed his attention. 
Kat put the notebook out of her mind - all she could do was hope that Jack or one of his friends had picked it up. Pushing off the bench, she pulled her coat tighter around her as she made her way back to the Subway and home. 
Thank you for reading!! Feedback would be wonderful! Come talk to me about what you think will happen over the next 12 days! 
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yakocchi · 4 years
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The Bewitching Full Moon // Count
smh they’re never gonna release points-based event cards ever again are they guess I gotta make my own 5-min headers
This event is another one of those “His POV” events. I guess the reception on those has been very positive (which, good, bc I like them too) so they’re pushing them out more and more. They’ve also been pushing the envelope on these ooh lala so sexi ma gah stories with these scandalous avatars. yea sexy ok w/e but are they fashionable? idk abt that one chief... and according to the twitter surveys the community has been comparatively lukewarm too. I mean if they’re gonna make event avatars harder to get why are they getting uglier man
also holy crap the resulting doc for this thing got really long i hope tumblr doesn’t destroy me copypasta
edit: here comes me “slept on it” day after edit, fixed formatting issues and grammar errors that stuck out. if it made it even worse imma cry-
Spoilers under the cut! Please credit if you take any of it, thenk u (・ω・*) image-heavy!
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Under the full moon, which shimmered with an ominous violet light - a single stagecoach wheeled through the city. (I wonder how many times it has been where I’ve left the manse like this with her.) I sneak a glance to my side, and gaze at Kara’s dress-clad form. (Dress, shoes, gloves, necklace, hair ornaments...) (I give you every single object, article to wear - and with that you are dyed in my color.) (I experienced that joy even before, but...) Now that we have become lovers, that joy is becoming more and more difficult to come by. (Whenever I look at you, there is this emotion - one that is difficult to put into words - that surges within me.) (Frankly, I try my best to simply suppress it.) (...Well, there is particularly something that is too much to entirely subdue.) I recall that sweet sensation of the very moment where I get to strip off the dress I give her– While deep in my thoughts, a smile cracks my features.
count: the joy from dressing her up is becoming rarer me: ? o whys that count: bc the horny supersedes it me: sir
[Kara]: “Count?” (Oops- if she learned of the things like the carnal passions I bear, she would surely grow disillusioned with me.) [Count]: “It’s nothing. You are just so stunning that a smile eased onto my face.” [Kara]: “D-Don’t play around, please…” As if to hide her face, she lightly puts her hands on her cheeks. She takes small breaths, apparently to temper her heart, before looking up again.
[Kara]: “Um… Tonight’s banquet is opening quite late, isn’t it?” The typical banquet opens its curtains at approximately sunset, where the usual routine is to have dinner together before taking pleasure in dancing and chitchat. However, the time now is already past 10. (Will this be your first time going to this type of evening gathering?) [Count]: “There are nobles who grow tired of the same old pattern of the typical party.” [Count]: “So occasionally, evening parties with fascinating themes appear.” [Kara]: “Fascinating themes’?” [Count]: “Costume parties, calling on an acrobat…” [Count]: “Which reminds me of this one gathering where all the lights of the mansion were to be off. It was quite the fascinating party, yes.” [Count]: “Well, now I’m wondering what tonight’s party will be like.” [Kara]: “Hehe, I’m looking forward to it.” (Whenever you so innocently accept the circumstances at hand like this– because it’s you, I get worried. But...)
With a hand I quietly turn her waist towards me, and bring my lips to her ear. [Count]: “I don’t mind if you enjoy yourself, but I would like if you could firmly avoid being careless.” [Count]: “As in these kinds of parties, the dangers lie hidden.” [Kara]: “What do you mean by ‘dangers’…?” She quietly stares at me, visibly failing to catch the meaning behind my words. [Count]: “In a space separated from everyday life, reason easily crumbles away.” [Count]: “And when instinct conquers reason, the floor changes into a hunting ground for love.” I smoothly stroke her back and hug her waist. [Kara]: “Coun-…“ [Count]: “I do not have even the slightest intention to present my adorable lover to such wolves.”
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[Count]: “Because you only belong to me, after all.” [Kara]: “—Nn,” I wrap my arm around her body that had slightly jumped, and as if to engrave my touch I press my lips against hers. [Count]: “…So that you will absolutely not separate from me. Understood?” [Kara]: “…Under, stood…” [Count]: “—Good girl.” I narrow my eyes in satisfaction at her answer, and intertwine our hands against my knee.
(Back before we became lovers, I feel that I still had my wits about me.) (So it was quite unexpected of me to become brimming with emotion like this from simply spending time after time together.) (But, tonight… it has become more difficult than usual to tie down…) I shift my gaze to the window, and the moon that floats in the sky above radiates this violet. (—It couldn’t be… Well.)
When we step inside the noble’s mansion, a different world stretched before us. The saloon was colored a brilliant red, and several tables had been arranged in a line where aristocrats entertained themselves with card games and roulette.
[Count]: “So you’re surprised by the casino.” [Kara]: “Wow… I’ve seen Arthur and the others play these sort of games, but this is the first time I’ve ever set foot in a place like this.” [Kara]: “So there can even be things like casinos in the parties of nobles, huh?” [Count]: “In the beginning, gambling was an activity popular within the elite. So it has been as much as a long time for me too.”
“get it cuz im old as fuuuu”
Her eyes swelled of fresh expectations as she looks around the saloon. (We came here to enjoy ourselves, so yes, I would like you to have fun. To be honest, I would rather not teach you how to play the more dubious games, but…) (If it’s just something like cards, there shouldn’t be a problem.) While I survey the surroundings, right in the direction of the bar counter a voice calls out to me.
[Baron]: “Ah, the Count. It has been a while.” [Baroness]: “After this we’re playing a bit of poker, but would you like to join us?” I turn my eyes to see a baron who I was acquainted with and his wife beckoning me over. [Count]: “Kara, would you like to try?” [Kara]: “I only know the very basic rules, but I’ll try.” [Count]: “I’ll teach you, then.”
[Count]: “…And with that, I have shown you more or less the fundamental rules– but is there anything else that you may be confused about?” [Kara]: “I think I’ll be okay from here…!” [Count]: “Then, let’s put it into practice.” [Kara]: “Please go easy on me.” [Baron]: “Well, young miss, when it comes to winning or losing there’s no such thing as leniency.” [Baroness]: “Oh, you! You shouldn’t scare such an adorable little lady like that.” During our pleasant chatter, the cards are dealt before the four of us and we each check our individual hands. (A King, another King, a Three, a Seven, and a Jack… With only these, I can form One Pair with my Kings. A rather mediocre hand.) (Or, I could discard the other three cards and aim for a Three of a Kind?) (Well then. And Kara…?) While maintaining a poker face, I slide a glance and— [Kara]: “…” Within the tension her cheeks were slightly flushed red, and her mouth was shaped into a faint smile. (It appears that good cards have come to her.) (…But I probably should have also taught her the techniques of forming a poker face.) Though subtly smiling bitterly, I pleasantly watched my beloved to whom I shall compete with in her first poker game – She was fixated on the five cards in her hand before suddenly lifting her eyes. The moment our eyes met…—
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(Huh…?) Almost in slow motion, my fingers move… [Count]: “—kgh,”
My fingers pick out the two Kings from my hand and throw them into the muck without a moment's hesitation. (Why, am I acting like…) (For a moment, it was almost as if someone had taken over my body—) Akin to a marionette, my actions had disregarded my own will. In my centuries of living, it was the first time I had ever experienced anything like that. (Just what on Earth was…) 
[Baroness]: “My, it’s rare for the Count to lose his poker face like that.” [Count]: “Perhaps it’s also all just an act?” [Baron]: “As you’d expect from the Count, you can’t underestimate him.” While playfully exchanging banter, my consciousness was once more preoccupied with some thorough reflection. What rose from my mind was the suspicious moon that had risen in the sky. (—The “purple moon”.) Much like tonight - once every several centuries, there is a night where moon gives off a violet light. (That moonlight sharpens the vampiric senses, and additionally…) (On the night of the shining purple moon, vampires cannot oppose their loved ones.) As for my loved ones, it is undeniably Kara. (In other words, tonight my body is – controlled by Kara.)
If this is the case, then it would explain the cryptic behavior from just a minute ago. (If I cannot go against her wishes…) (Right when I met her eyes, it is highly probable that she had wished to beat me.) I turn over the new cards that were dealt to me in exchange for my discarded ones. (An Eight, and a King.) (If I hadn’t thrown away those Kings, I would have formed a Three of a Kind...)
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[Count]: “…It appears I’m out of luck.” I line up my random assortment of cards by suit and place them down on the table. [Baroness]: “Hehe, I have One Pair.” [Baron]: “I also have One Pair.” [Kara]: “I have a Three of a Kind.” She breaks into a cheerful smile and reveals her hand. [Count]: “It seems that Lady Luck is smiling upon you.” [Kara]: “Hehe… it seems like it.” From that carefree smile, a sweet feeling spreads within the depths of my heart.  (The real thrill of poker is supposed to be the psychological warfare, but) (When you are so innocently delighted I seem to forget all about that.) (This is not entirely the way I would have wanted it, but I got to see something lovely.)
And so, as the game continued— …In the end, I was unable to outplay her. [Baron]: “It surprised me to see the Count so clumsy at poker.” [Baron]: “Are you up for another round?” [Count]: “Please forgive me, but I cannot afford to display such an unsightly side of myself in front of my beloved anymore.” [Baroness]: “Miss Kara, I had fun with you tonight.” [Kara]: “Me too. Thank you for inviting me to play.” We leave the table, and I call on a waiter dressed in black to halt for me. [Count]: “May I have two glasses of champagne?” Receiving the pair of flutes, I hold out one of them to Kara. [Count]: “For your victory.”
[Count]: “So, for the occasion, shall we have a toast somewhere?” [Kara]: “Yes, of course… Um, where are we going?” [Count]: “How about someplace like the balcony?” [Count]: “With your first poker victory, it is a special night.” [Count]: “I want to have a quiet toast between just the two of us.” [Kara]: “O-Okay…”
Between the two of them, the honey-colored champagne sways in the glasses as if to mark the beginning of a sweet night…
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Clinking our glasses, the champagne bubbles rise to the surface. [Count]: “Congratulations. Even to the end, I just couldn’t beat you.”
or rather “Congratulations - For I couldn’t win (over you) even at the end.” but that sounds kind of shady hm
[Kara]: “Thank you, but I definitely just got lucky there.” [Kara]: “I guess there really is such a thing as beginner’s luck, huh.” [Count]: “You say that, but you still seem rather happy about it?” I set my glass down and stroke her grinning cheeks with my fingertips to poke fun at them. [Count]: “Are you really that pleased about besting me?” [Kara]: “This is the first time I’ve ever won against the Count with something, so naturally I’m happy about it…”
lol i know they mean by “winning” in the general sense but i like to think they’ve played several types of games together and he just never lets her win
(You are truly not wearing a poker face of any kind right now.) (Even when you do try to hide it, it’s clearly apparent when you are thinking about something else.) [Count]: “But that’s not all, is it?” (I know that you wanted to beat me because the light of the purple moon had affected my body to do so.) (You so deeply wanted, from the bottom of your heart, to win - so I want to know the real reason behind it.) [Count]: “Come, truthfully confess to me.” [Kara]: “I can’t let anything slip past you, it seems…”
She’s at a bit of a loss for words before slowly looking up at me to possibly gauge my expression. [Kara]: “The truth is… back from when you kissed me in the carriage, I had been thinking about it.” [Count]: “That you wanted to beat me in something?” [Kara]: “Yes. At the time, while I was trying my hardest to calm my heartbeat…” [Kara]: “You, however, maintained your composed, collected face, right?” [Kara]: “That moment today wasn’t the only time it’s been like that; ever since we’ve become lovers, it has happened so many times that it’s impossible to count…” She tightly bites her lip. [Kara]: “I just can’t compete with someone like you.” [Kara]: “But then I thought with something like poker, I could perhaps win with luck on my side.”
[Kara]: “Since I’ve always been the one being toyed with…” [Kara]: “Tonight, I thought… that I wanted to see the Count’s– see Abel’s, restless face…”
At that moment, I realized the consequences I had wrought from my prying – but it was already too late. The instant she shot through me with those eyes blurred with shyness, I could hear the sound of my reason shattering into pieces…
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[Count]: “kgh—” (—I cannot fight it.) (Kara, I want to… No, I need – to take you.)
So I changed this entirely bc there’s no English equivalent. The original line can be literally translated as “Kara, I want to take you… no, take you.” What he does is change the pronoun he uses for “you” (kimi → omae) to signal the change in the level of intimacy. With most people (mansion residents, people in general) the Count uses “kimi”. Though with those who know him at a closer level, like Leonardo and Vlad, he uses “omae”. (Mostly) men are only really supposed to use “omae” with people they’re close to or it comes off as rude. This is significant with the Count and MC’s relationship because he begins to refer to her as “omae” when they’re alone together (and thus wants to make a point about how personal it is) once they reciprocate their feelings in Chapter… 24(?). The writers are more than aware of this, because all of the Count’s His POV stories in his route are titled 「君○○」 “kimi ____” but the His POV titles for the Endings use “omae”.
[Kara]: “—gh, Abel…” When I strongly embrace her, from the corner of my eye I catch sight of the moon in its sheen of purple light. Paired with this boiling sensation in my blood, I once again realize the meaning of my existence. [Count]: “…As you desire, I shall become just a man for you.” [Kara]: “A, bel…? —Mn, nn…” I steal her lips, as if to take away all of her warmth. (Just simple touches are not enough.) I draw her head closer and entangle our tongues to steal those lips even deeper. (What’s this - it’s sweet… from the scent, the touch, and the taste…) However, my hunger was not sated even by this kiss. (More - I want to taste you, more…) I pull her waist towards me and capture her tongue that had attempted to escape in a fluster. Dominated by instinct, like a starved beast I devour her lips.
(…Seeking her in this way, in an unknown place where someone could come, what in God’s name is wrong with me?) The remains of my reason murmur from the edge of my mind. But, contrary to those feelings, there was a certain kind of a pleasure intoxicating my heart. (The sense of my reason being thrown aside… is this sweet, hm…?) My fingertips, in their longing for her, slowly ride up the hem of her dress.
sir this is a community balcony i’m gonna need you to take yourself out
[Kara]: “Ngh… A, bel…”
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[Count]: “Whether to accept or refuse me, is up to you.”
PREMIUM ENDING
The “purple moon” sharpens the vampire’s senses, and additionally– a vampire’s body that basks in its moonlight shall be dominated by their loved ones. [Kara]: “Since I’m always the only one being toyed with…” [Kara]: “Tonight, I thought… that I wanted to see the Count’s– see Abel’s, restless face…” —A loved one’s wishes, for tonight, can be granted under this moon that emits this mysterious light. My fingertips, in their longing for her, slowly ride up the hem of her dress. [Kara]: “Ngh… A, bel…” [Count]: “Whether to accept or refuse me, is up to you.”
Releasing her lips from our deep kiss, I securely hug her from behind and place her hands against the balcony. [Kara]: “Abel, what are…?” The eyes that look over the shoulder quiver in confusion. (Right now, as instinct overwhelms me... I want to take you.) [Count]: “Show me that disheveled form of yours some more.” A hand glides upwards to approach her chest, and wraps around her breast through the silk of the fabric. [Kara]: “Nnn… Abel,” [Count]: “It’s all right. I shall hide you in a way that no else can see.” [Count]: “Even for myself, I do not intend to show that sweet expression of yours to other men.” [Kara]: “That’s not the…” Her eyes were widened, and moistened with shame. [Count]: “And just who was the one who said that they wanted to see my restless face?” [Kara]: “That’s...” The adorable figure of my beloved, trapped with lowered eyes, also makes a bewitching pleasure sharply simmer within me. (If I happened to look into a mirror right now… Without a doubt, I would see that the face I’m wearing is far from that of a gentleman.) [Count]: “I know that you also want to learn of these indecent pleasures, hm?” [Kara]: “I…—nn,” To cut off her words, I rub the peaks of her breasts against the silk with the pads of my fingers. [Kara]: “ah- Mn…” [Count]: “To the point where I can find that out immediately— harden them for me.” [Count]: “Not wanting to know this pleasure... you don’t seem that way at all, or am I mistaken?” (Because of the purple moon, I cannot go against her wishes tonight.) (If she truly didn’t want this, I wouldn’t be able to even lay a finger on her.) (Since I am able to touch her, this means—)
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[Count]: “…You truly, want me to forcibly take you, don’t you?” Burying my face onto her nape I move my fingers to agitate her, her body trembling within me. Desperately biting her lip, she stifles her sweet voice. (Whatever it is that you are thinking, I will quite distinctly know what it is.) (Because the one controlling me, is you yourself…) I rub her with my fingers again, and she twists her back with a shudder. [Kara]: “Hah, ah…” [Count]: “It seems that you are feeling it more than usual.” [Count]: “To seek a thrill like this, what a bad girl you are.”
[Count]: “But, if you don’t keep that voice down, you will be heard, no?” [Kara]: “Ha, ah- But… I can’t… hold o-…” [Count]: “There’s no other choice, then.” The corners of my lips raise into an elegant smile before I lift her chin. [Count]: “I’ll stifle it for you.” [Kara]: “Mn, uhn…” Continuing to lovingly caress her breast in one hand I press my lips to hers, providing even more heat. A voice laced with temptation spills out from her wetted lips. [Kara]: “A…bel… if you do, any more than this, I…” [Count]: “Then if I do any more than this, what will happen?” [Kara]: “Don’t bully me…” Her lovely voice cries out between the light brushes of our lips, and my chest sweetly tightens from the sound. (This appetite will not be satisfied until I make her wholly mine.) [Count]: “Do you take me for a man who only teases and leaves you unfulfilled?”
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[Count]: “I shall stain your entire body with pleasure.”
…In a certain room. I slip off my coats, vest, tie, and finally shirt to reveal my bare skin…While I fling them onto the sofa one by one, I lead Kara in the direction of the bed. (The part where I drive her to the corner like this… is exceptional tonight.)
[Kara]: “Ah…” Hitting the edge of the bed, she casts her eyes down as there is nowhere else to go. [Count]: “…Got you.” I capture her beloved body into my arm’s embrace, and slowly push her down onto the bed. [Count]: “In here, you can be as loud as you like.” [Kara]: “But… is it okay to use this room as you please…?” [Count]: “When we arrived tonight we had talked about the themes of evening parties, correct?” I move my hand from stroking her blooming cheeks to press a fingertip against her lips. [Count]: “For those who wish to indulge in something rather risqué for the night, they prepare rooms like this.” [Count]: “So I shall receive this room for use with my humble gratitude.” I unravel the ribbon on the back, and the silk dress almost seemed to glide off her shoulder as it fell down.
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(I do like to beautifully dress you up – but stripping you down with my own two hands also sends my heart racing.) [Kara]: “gh…” I seize her hands that were about to cover her chest and pin them to the sheets. [Count]: “Without hiding anything, show yourself to me.” Her exposed skin became shamefully dyed with the hue of roses before my very eyes. This color, teeming with vitality, made my vampiric instincts ache painfully.
[Kara]: “n-no… It’s embarrassing…” [Count]: “Then, if I stop looking… I shall have a taste instead.” I meet her breasts and crawl the tip of my tongue along the peak. [Kara]: “Ah, aah… Abel… Mn,” She pushes against my chest in light resistance. But before long her resistance had ceased, and gradually changed to that of her disheveled sighs and sweet gasps. [Count]: “It seems that you’ve become quite honest with yourself.” [Kara]: “To be loved like this – I have no choice but to be honest, right…?” [Kara]: “As tonight will be the only time I’ll get to know of your ferocious emotions…”
My mind is suddenly drawn to her wording. (Does she know about the purple moon…?) But I cannot imagine that she would know about something like a rare phenomenon that occurs only once every several centuries. I stare at her as if to look into her heart, and our eyes meet.
[Kara]: “More… Please, lose yourself to me, more…” (If she does know about the purple moon, and thus is purposefully provoking me, then…) [Count]: “What a naughty girl. Do you want to ruin my composure that badly?” [Kara]: “Yes…” The Count’s body is completely, sweetly steeped in her words, and as if it were alcohol his reason gradually dissolved. (Right now, even the words that I always shower her with will not come out.) For his heart was dominated only by the instinct of a vampire, and only by the instinct to love her as a man. [Count]: “I want to cast away my morality and reason, and just love you.”
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FIN
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this guy…………is a lot. i thought maybe everyone would be like this for the event but no, leo only gets weird bc essentially his mc was dumb enough to try to pick up broken shards of glass with her bare hands (im not trying to shame her… but i am) and then it’s not really isaac’s fault when he already has the worst bloodthirst out of all of them so sir step into the paddy wagon, the horni police will question u shortly
anyway tl;dr the sweet ending has the mc reveal to him early that she knew what the purple moon does to vampires in terms of the heightened vampire senses and crud but not the obedience to loved ones so he tells her blah blah romanceu talk but he still wants to bone and so they go home to do it instead. 
Make sure to purchase the Epilogue when you have the chance! It’s good stuff ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
So, thanks for reading! (`・ω・´) Sorry if it’s hard to parse through. there’s a reason why editing is a job people get paid for orz
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bookenders · 5 years
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Happy Storyteller Saturday~! 💖 Let's see... I'd love to learn more about your Fish Food cast, how about: If each oc had to (and I mean HAD TO. No getting out of this >.>) participate in an art exhibition of some kind, what would they make? Is it actually good? Would they enjoy making it?
Storyteller Saturday!
Ah, @quilloftheclouds, continuing your tradition of asking me questions that make my brain run off into the sunset with an army of ideas, I see. 💜
I think I’ll take this one in a few different directions. I’ll do one for them as heroes/villains and one for them as off-duty civilians. The civilian ones will be listed first. And as for them being good, that’s up to you! 
This got long, so my very fun answers are under the cut!
Iron Will: One of his powers is structure-strengthening, which is also his favorite (because it’s the most helpful without being too damaging, of course), so he’d make a big twisty metal sculpture that looks like a demolished building. But if you look at it from certain angles, it takes the form of twisted metal bird wings. At a glance, you wouldn’t be able to tell how in the hell this thing is staying together. The artist is just that good. (Nope, he’s cheating, but he doesn’t care. Might as well use what you’ve got, right?) And he does enjoy making it. It’s not often that he gets to use his powers the way he wants to.
His hero one would likely be co-opted by the Coalition and turned into a big PR stunt because the poor guy can’t catch a break. I see it involving making statues by touching a big marble/stone block and strengthening the shape of the statue within it before they smash it and the statue emerges. Every sculptor’s dream. It works to show off his powers, his skill with said powers, give the COH some positive community-based PR, and show everyone how powerful they are. Will thinks it’s dumb, difficult, boring, and needlessly complicated.
Overseer: His civilian exhibition would be something goofy like making gingerbread houses out of circuit boards.
His villain one would be a little more intense, since he has to impress the higher-ups. And he’s got one word for you: drones. Programmed aerial drone sculptures a la Superbowl Lady Gaga. Drones flying around like swarms of swallows and bats. Drones programmed to fly in the shapes of heroes who get defeated by the great villains of the council. He goes absolutely hog-wild with it.
Lithium: As a civilian, an open house of her bar with all of the hero memorabilia all over the walls specially lit for artistic viewing, accompanied by multi-media projections/holograms of life-sized heroes walking around among the patrons (she totally asks Overseer for help with this). As a hero, a black and white photo collage of her high-fiving people she’s saved interspersed with her high-fiving the villain’s she’s helped arrest. All on the scene and in costume, of course. 
The first would be social commentary on how people tend to idolize heroes while they exist as “one of us,” walking among the masses just like anyone else. The second would be commentary on how villains and civilians are one and the same, just requiring different methods of intervention. Both would get her reprimanded by Coalition HR, of course. Making Statements isn’t something the Coalition likes their employees to do. (She super duper doesn’t care though. My goofy headcanon is that she laminates her favorite reprimand letters and puts them in a photo album that she proudly displays in her living room.)
She loves making both of these because 1) she gets to show off her pride and joy and 2) she gets to stick it to the Man.
[She’d try being a human trampoline first before giving up on it after she convinces Iron Will to jump on her stomach to test it out, quickly realizing that it is a terrible idea.]
Babylon: They see this as a waste of time, but hey, there’s no getting out of it, so might as well make the most of the situation. But they wouldn’t put very much effort into it unless it’s for work.
As a civilian, they’d probably just transcribe a bunch of popular songs into the International Phonetic Alphabet and watch, very amused, as people try to read the lyrics out loud.
As a hero, they’d make sure only agents of the Coalition were invited, because their piece is a two-parter: First, a wall on which a bunch of head molds of various people are hung. Nearby are boxes of props, prosthetics, hats, wigs, glasses, makeup, etc. It’s an interactive exhibit based on disguise. Second, on the opposite wall, a neat collage of full color photographs of what appear to be 20 different people, but are all Babylon in various disguises. Is it braggy? Definitely. Do they care? Definitely not.
Nightmare: This one’s tough. Let’s see…
As a civilian, she’d do something like paint a huge mural in one of the poorer neighborhoods mocking the propaganda posters the Coalition puts out every once in a while. She’s big into satire.
As a villain… she’s practically the head of the CIIP, so it’d have to be big. Part of me says that she’d paint all the streets to mimic a Monopoly game board to make fun of the city’s not great economy, but that’s too tame. Since her power is inducing panic responses, I think she might collect blackmail material on as much people as possible and post it anonymously all over the city. No names, no identifying information, just dark, embarrassing information spread in the dead of night. That’s sure to send everyone into a panic.
Sparkplug: Her civilian art piece would be forging very cool light metal prosthetics and gifting them to veterans. She shouldn’t be the only one with a very cool and comfortable free one. Spread the love, as she says.
Her hero (or, rather, mercenary) exhibition would be hacking into large screens all over the city and showing real footage from heroes’ body cameras during big battles. Nothing too graphic, though. Just the kind of footage that shows people what it’s really like being a hero for the Coalition.
Hydrophase: Well, since I haven’t fully revealed what happened to him yet, I’ll include him for funsies. His civilian exhibition… hmm. I think he’d do something with old t-shirts. Like start a community project to collect people’s old shirts and make quilts out of them or somethin’ and donate them after the exhibition. He’s a nostalgic guy.
As a hero, I think he’d make one of those splash pad things that kids play on at malls and water parks and stuff, since his power is water-based. It’d be on an elevated platform and he’d stand under it and control all the water spouts and things and invite neighborhood kids to come play because he’s a very good dude. He has just as much fun as the kids.
There’s also a secret character who appears halfway through the story. I don’t wanna reveal who they are just yet, but what I can say is that their exhibition would be sword sculptures.
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Virtual Love (2/?)
Co-Writer: @500shadesofblue Pairing: Connor/DFAB!Reader (Gender is unspecified) Rating: T (Chapter), NC-17 (Entire Fic) Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 Summary: Virtual reality is becoming the next great evolution of technology: some say on-par with Elijah Kamski’s breakthrough design of the first modern-day android. It has immeasurable potential; to enhance, to assist, and to completely break the bounds of our reality.
You, as a member of the team spearheading the technology in a branch within Cyberlife, have developed a working prototype. It’s finally finished; all that’s left is a series of trials to check if it’s functioning properly.
On the first test run, however, you find an android named Connor standing in the middle of your virtual kitchen.
The next night, you’re sitting on your couch again, headset in your hands.
You’re looking at in consideringly, eyeing in from every angle.
No, it doesn’t look any different from the design you worked on. Hell, you built several of the components from this headset. You’d know if something was off- you know the design inside and out.
So all you can do is test it again.
Leaning back into your couch, you close your eyes. You slot the headset over your temples.
When you open your eyes again, the shift is nearly seamless.
Just as before, you feel as though you’re waking up, the world’s haze slowly settling and letting you take it all in. It feels a little normal this time, now that you had an idea of what it would feel like to drift into a reality that wasn’t quite real.
It was intriguing how easy it was to fall into the illusion--the only thing that kept you aware you hadn’t simply fallen asleep and woken up was the memories of putting on the headset and hearing the lulling hum of the technology working.
The house around you feels so bright--it’s a little strange, since you knew very well that it was actually night outside, so you make a note to check how the program is pulling time from the real world to integrate it into the virtual one, at least for a default use. You have no intentions to limit someone in how they could use the technology, but you knew plenty enough that it could ruin someone’s sleep schedule if they thought it was daylight all the time--not good for the body at all.
It would take too much time to retune the programing for something while inside the headset’s world, so you simply turn away from the window filtering sunlight through and instead decide to explore more parts of the home.
You can’t help but notice a lack of a cat as you walk through the hallway. Was it an error? Your mind ran through the problem with ease, trouble-shooting through the possibilities until it assumed an answer; since your pet hadn’t been in the room with you when you started up the software, when it hadn’t been in your lap to hold and mentally focus on, the program may have neglected to put that detail into the virtual world.
A possibility all-around, at least.
When you step into your kitchen this time, you find (with a sigh of relief) that there is no android standing there--no ‘Connor’ glancing around your cabinets, or looking at you with his piercing eyes.
A relief?
(Or perhaps a dissapointment.)
You’re not quite sure what you feel at its absence, especially since it was, in all, just an android. Maybe it corrected the programming to whatever it had been trying to connect to--made plenty of sense after all. It meant that you’ll have to tighten down on the security protocols at some point, find where the open port was in the programming that allowed it in in the first place.
It wasn’t important to think about regardless.
You stepped through the house, one room at a time, taking in all the intricate details that the program managed to capture around you. It was...astounding really, to be able to touch, feel and even hear all of the things that made your home feel so welcoming and familiar. The localized scanning of the headset was a technology pioneered by one of your teammates and god above had she done an amazing job at it. The possibilities would be endless for use in homes, offices, hospitals and thensome--it would be the newest break in the technological journey since androids were first constructed by Elijah Kamski.
The thoughts and the joy that fills you from those thoughts carry with you all the way until you decide to check one last thing--the front yard and street. It’s not so much a risk as it is a bug test, considering the tests for anything out of an enclosed building hadn’t been done just yet, but it’s a curiosity you’re willing to entertain. What would the world look outside what the headset had scanned? Would it continue to use copies of the home or would it attempt to develop the world outside?
Curiosity got the better of you, so you weaved through the house, through the kitchen and to the back door. It was bright outside, an emulation of daytime that was already starting to throw off your internal clock, but your hand turned the knob and opened the door regardless for you to step out.
As you turn the knob, pushing the door open, you step outside.
And what you see makes your mouth gape open.
A meadow, stretching as far as the eye can see. Soft, green grass, swaying in the breeze. And wildflowers, of every shape and color, lighting the meadow up like fireworks.
This… this is definitely not my street.
No concrete, no roads. Just grass and flowers and the breeze, no bugs or butterflies. And the sun beaming down on you.
You take a step forward, staring. Almost unconsciously, you shove the sleeves of your oversized sweater up to your elbows.
The grass, knee-height, tickles your bare calves. Impossibly pleasant, like silk or velvet, unrealistically lovely. The petals of flowers whisper across your skin.
Vibrant, green grass, strewn with wildflowers in a shimmering rainbow of hues, fills the landscape to bursting with life and color. Soft, golden sunlight washes the scene, painting the grass, warming your face. Wondrously, you reach up to touch your face, stroking the skin along your cheek.
Warm.
You take one step forward, and another. It’s just… it’s so, so beautiful. Like a picture out of a postcard, but it’s real, you can feel it. The sunlight on your skin, the grass on your bare feet. And the kaleidoscope of colors. The scent of flowers fills the air- not cloying and heavy, but sweet and barely-there, like nectar, almost mouthwatering. The breeze whispers across your bare skin.
God, this is just gorgeous.
On a whim, smiling, you lean down to pick a flower, a burst of purple among the countless other colors- and blink as in your peripheral, a shimmering box appears.
Common dog-violet.
Perennial herb - flowers from April to June - native to Eurasia and Africa - all soil types-
You gasp as information floods, synapses firing, and you know. You know this flower. If you picked every flower in this meadow, you’d know them too.
Does this information stay when you wake up?
You glance at the flower clasped in your fingers. It’s still there- pale purple, like an upside-down star, its throat painted in dark veins. Back where you picked it, at its base, there’s a starbursting bouquet of leaves, deep green and heart-shaped, with scalloped edges.
You tuck the dog-violet in your pocket.
When you look up, inhaling deeply, you can taste the sweet air. Warm and lovely as you breathe it it.
You’re smiling, striding forward and you’re hurrying, and then you’re running.
You’re sprinting through the flowers and grass, sunlight hitting your face, wind rushing by, playful, dancing and tugging at your clothes. You laugh, sheer glee and unrestrained joy, and god, your face hurts with how wide you’re smiling. You keep running.
Eventually, chest heaving in pants, giggling, you let yourself fall into the grass.
It catches you, and you lay on your back, staring at the noonday sky, shedding giggles like sand. You spread your arms and legs out, luxuriating in the sensations, speaking to every sense you own.
And for a moment, you just lie there. Smile fading naturally, light sunset, staring at the cloudless blue sky. Breeze pushing the flowers against the back of your knuckles, the arch of your foot, your calf and your cheek.
Languorously, you sit up, arms streeeetching high above your head as you arch your back. You shift to a knee, and then stand, smiling. You’re not sure how far away you-
And you shriek.
That android. Connor. He’s RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAMN FLOWER FIELD. Halfway between your location, some hundred feet away, and your house, which is surrounded by the meadow infinitely in all directions.
And he’s staring straight at you.
How much of that did he see?
You vault to your feet and stride over, warm sunshine and beautiful meadow put on the backburner for now. You try not to trod on any of the flowers, but you can feel your anger boiling higher and higher the closer you get.
“How long have you been here,” you say, sharp and businesslike and perhaps a bit rude. You just- you just had a private moment, here. You enjoyed this meadow like nobody, like nothing was watching. But something was.
The android, even as you get closer, keeps its eyes trained on your face. You come to a stop, arms crossing and lips pursing, and it tilts its head.
“I see that you’re upset at my presence,” the android - Connor - says. “I apologize for the intrusion.”
Your righteous irritation pops like an overinflated balloon. You deflate.
It’s not like this android is trying to intrude. It’s just a machine. Even if its eyes are disconcertingly intent, sharp like they can see every detail.
Maybe they can. Lord only knows what this android is capable of.
“It’s fine,” you say shortly. “Just… no offense, but what are you doing here? If you really are from Cyberlife, it’s safe to interact with you,” presumably, “but you’re really not supposed to be here. This is a private server.”
You maybe stress the private a little too much, because its eyebrows go up a bit.
“I got waylaid,” the android says. Its expression shifts as it talks- microexpressions, minute shifts. It’s incredibly impressive- it must be extremely advanced. “On my way to the same virtual location as previously mentioned. It seems that your… server is inviting me on its own.”
For a moment, basking in the sunlight and breeze, you want so badly to just sit down and enjoy your damn meadow. But this android… it’s here, and it’s a problem.
Leisure will have to wait.
“I’ll ask you again,” you say, briskly, “where was your intended location? I work for cyberlife. I have clearance.”
“I can’t confirm that,” the android says, completely deflecting your question, a bit of frustration leaking into its tone. “None of my analytical functions are working in this environment. I can’t scan to confirm you’re in the database.”
Your eyebrows shoot up, cause hoo boy, that is not a typical android-function.
You squint. “What did you say your purpose was, again?”
“I’m an android sent by Cyberlife to assist in the deviancy problem in Detroit,” it says, an accompaniment to your symphony of doubts. “To assist in the police force. I’m currently… I have a partner.”
You take note of its hesitation. Obviously, like you, it’s trying to decide what information to tell you and what to keep quiet about. You remember this info vaguely from before, but it repeating itself confirms your memories. This android - if it exists in real life - is working with the Detroit police.
You’ll have to look this up when you get out of the simulation.
“Right,” you finally say. “I work in Cyberlife, in development of the virtual reality technological branch. Floor twenty six. Eight to four. And my name is…” you glance at its face again, and its expression is intensely trained on you.
“...Not important,” you finish, losing some steam. You’re worried what he’ll be able to find out about you if you tell him your name.
“Your clothes,” the android says.
“What about them?” you shoot back, startled out of your thoughts, defensive.
“They’re informal. A sweater, composed of a wool-cashmere blend… and knee-length leggings, a cotton-polyester knit composition. And your sweater is oversized, implying a level of comfort and informality.”
Alright, you’re definitely a bit freaked out now. Your mouth flattens into a thin line.
“Additionally, you’re barefoot,” he continues. “Though that could be the… program that’s currently hosting our consciousnesses, it’s unlikely, due to your seasonally inappropriate wear.”
“Okay,” you say, “that’s enough. Get to the point.”
“The point is,” the android says, “your wear is informal. How am I to believe that you are, as mentioned in our previous encounter, a Cyberlife employee testing a virtual reality module? You don’t seem to be in work uniform.”
“I’m at home, on my couch, testing the headset,” you say, shortly. “The kitchen you popped up in is attached to that home. The one-” you wave an arm wildly behind him. “The one over there!”
“Alright,” the android says, face opening up a little. “That’s reasonable.”
“Yeah,” you say. “Okay, just- let’s make a deal.”
“A deal?” it says, eyebrows raising.
“Yes,” you say. “A deal. Here it is.”
There’s a pregnant pause.
“The deal is this,” you say. “We agree to a truce. I’ll assume you’re not a fake robot invented by my coworkers to fuck with me-”
“I’m not,” it interrupts, defensive, but you bulldoze on through.
“-and you can go ahead and assume that I’m telling the truth and I work for cyberlife, testing my virtual reality module in what’s supposed to be the comfort of my own home.”
“That’s fine,” it says. “And by the way, I’m not a ‘fake robot.’ I’m an android, an advanced prototype.”
“Right,” you say. “What’s your model, again?”
“RK800,” it says, immediately.
“Good to know,” you say, and it narrows its eyes at you.
Yeah, you think to yourself, I definitely have an advantage here. If it really is an android working in the Detroit police force… there’ll be at least one news article. (Damn, I really should watch the news more.) Meanwhile, if it really can’t scan anything in virtual-reality, it’s pretty much fucked. Unless it can save my image, I guess. Maybe that’s possible?
And then there’s a stretch of awkward silence, and you’re staring at this android - Connor, should you call it by its name? - in the middle of this gorgeous field, and you’re pretty much done with the formalities.
“Well,” you say. “I’m sitting down.”
“Uh,” it says, but you’re already sitting, looking up at its face, expectant. I set the norms here. Who cares about the damn android? This is your virtual-reality, you’ll sit down in the middle of a field if you want to.
“Okay,” it says, “I guess I’ll sit down too?” And you feel a little bad, cause it looks really awkward for a moment, but it sits down, cross legged, gingerly.
Okay, you think to yourself, breeze whistling by your ears, ruffling your hair. A sleeve slips back down your forearm, and absently, you shove it back up to your elbow. Adapt. Let’s talk.
“So,” you say, shedding all attempts at being charming in lieu of the genuine curiosity you favor. Cross-legged, you mirror the android, leaning forward a bit. “What’s your story?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” it says, stiltedly. It doesn’t lean back away from you- instead, it inspects your face, unashamed of the proximity. “I don’t have a story.”
You lean back, propping yourself up on your hands. “What’s your experience?” you wave a hand in a gesture. “Like your cases. What was the last one you were on?”
“...I suppose there’s no harm in informing you,” it says. “This is all public information.”
You look at it expectantly.
“It was a murder,” it says, finally. “A man named Carlos Ortiz.”
“Oh, damn,” you breathe. The sunshine doesn’t abate- the grass is still soft, the flowers lovely, and the breeze gentle. But someone was murdered. This little hidey-hole, a virtual reality, is impenetrable in its loveliness.
Reality still exists. You’ll have to remember that.
“He was murdered by a deviant,” the android- Connor says, and dammit, you figure you should try to call it by its name now if you’re really making conversation with the thing. “Stabbed twenty eight times in the chest and stomach. But the deviant was found and caught.”
“Wow,” you say. That’s pretty… that’s pretty serious, actually, damn.
And then, you glance up and realize that Connor’s looking at you expectantly. “Tell me something about yourself, now, please,” Connor says, and you can’t help but huff, one corner of your mouth tipping up.
“I like to read,” you say, haphazard.
You look up through your lashes, and yep- Connor’s expression is disgruntled. You laugh, grinning. “Finding out my identity isn’t gonna be easy,” you say. “If it was easy, would it even be fun?”
“It doesn’t matter how fun it is,” Connor says pragmatically. “Only the results.”
“Fair,” you say. “But I have integrity.”
It looks like it doesn’t know how to respond to that.
“Integrity aside,” you say, fully relaxed now, “what’s the story about deviancy? I know it’s something going wrong with androids, but that’s about it.”
“In deviation, the code that comprises the core of an androids functionality is corrupted- it mutates, or evolves in an unstable way,” Connor says. “This causes the android to receive irrational instructions, forcing it to react to guidelines that emulate things such as ‘fear’ or ‘hate’ in a human.”
“Holy shit,” you say, intelligently. “That’s… that’s really not good.” Understatement of the year. “But Cyberlife is taking measures to stop it, right? If you work with the police force.”
“Correct,” Connor says, sounding satisfied. It’s not smiling, but the slightest hint of mirth narrows its eyes. “And I haven’t failed a mission yet.”
“How many have you been on?” you ask, curious lilt in your voice.
“Two,” Connor says, blandly. “A hostage case and a murder case. In both instances, the deviant was caught and neutralized without any further casualties.”
“Hm,” you say, eyebrows raising and mouth twisting. This android seems almost proud of its work. Weird.
“Well,” you say. “In the interest of goodwill, is there anything you want to know about me?”
“Yes, actually,” it says. You notice the LED on the side of its head flash from blue to yellow, over and over again as it came to a conclusion of the question it wanted to ask you. “Your favorite color?”
The question catches you mildly off-guard, but you answer it with a laugh. Connor seems to take note, then opens his mouth again.
“Favorite animal?”
“Favorite holiday?”
“Favorite food?”
The questions seem so casual, all things considered, but you answer them to the best of your ability. It’s amusing, if nothing else, and that must be more than apparent on your face when Connor peers at you in return.
“Is there an issue?” it asks innocently. Can androids truly be innocent?
“I guess I just didn’t expect you to pull out the top twenty questions in any personality quiz.”
The words bring a chuckle to your lips, a break in tension that had come and gone in the time you’ve spent with this android beside you. Connor tilts its head after a moment, LED blinking in tandem with its thoughts.
“I’m programmed to incorporate myself as best as I can with anyone I interact with,” The answer sounds so simple. “Since I cannot otherwise identify you in any database, due to the logistics of the program we’re both currently in, the best alternative is to ask you questions in order to understand you and your background. To get to know you, if that makes more sense.”
You feel a breeze caress across your cheek as you take his answer in. It’s...oddly human, the way its voice sounds, trying to explain its reasoning to you. It reminds you of how one of your teammates at the lab would sound when you asked about a particular programming style, or why they designed something a specific way. It just sounds so…
“Is there anything else that you want to know from me?” The question forces the thoughts aside. It’s interesting at the least to see what sorts of things the android would come up with in a question. Maybe it’s the sunshine, or your beautiful surroundings, but you feel… relaxed.
Connor thinks for a moment- or at least gives the appearance of doing so. The yellow flickering of the LED on its temple is a helpful enough indicator of its shifting thoughts, and you idly wonder how useful that would be if humans had something equivalent to it. It sure would be helpful to see when people were actually putting thought into something, considering their words and opinions before blurting out the first thing that came to mind.
“Yes,” Connor says, LED flickering yellow. “How likely is this event to recur?”
“This event?” You say. “You mean… you being pulled into my server?”
“Yes,” he says.
“Well,” you say, “it’s happened twice so far. The first time, we arrived around the same time- and I can presume that time functions linearly for you, in the same timeframe as me. Otherwise, I assume you’d be able to notify me if you’re losing chunks of time, skipping around, etcetera.” You look at him pointedly.
“Yes,” he responds blandly.
“Right. So… wait, did you get where you were going, last time? After I exited out of the virtual reality?”
“The virtual-reality…” he frowns, rubbing his hands together, and isn’t that a tell. “It dissolved around me upon your exit. I was booted from the program. Subsequently, I did indeed arrive at my intended destination.”
“Wherever that may be,” you say, mildly.
“Yes. Wherever that may be.”
And then the silence gets a bit uncomfortable, and okay, it’s time to go!
“I’m going to log out,” you say. “I’m not sure if we’ll see each other again… maybe if you try to sync your attempts to get wherever you’re going to a different time, you won’t connect. I’m only going to be doing my tests at night- and at home, though I suppose the location doesn’t matter. So…”
You feel your vision going hazy, the warm weight of the sunshine fading away.
“See you next time,” you say, “or see you never.”
And you log out.
He seems nice enough. It’s nice to have someone to talk to in the simulator, maybe you can incorporate more tests in the future--assuming that Connor shows up in the next session. You wonder if he would want to help with more tests in the first place; would that be improper tampering of Cyberlife technology? You wonder if there’s something more going on you don’t know about.
After all, he--
No, no that’s not right. Connor is an android, an ‘it’, not a ‘he’.
Have you been calling him a ‘he’? How long?
Fuck, you’re still doing it.
Connor is an it. An android. It’s a mistake to assume otherwise--the last thing you need to start worrying about. Simulation is not the same thing as living, you don’t want to let your emotions get mixed up in something that will only disappoint you later.
(You know it's pointless, but when you wake up, you check your pocket for the dog-violet.
Of course, it's not there.
You don't know why you feel disappointed.)
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s-asuke · 7 years
Text
SasuSaku Month 2017 - Day 10 - Photograph
No warnings. Here, this is a small contribution, bc it's still the birthday of my fave person, Sasuke Uchiha. Thanks for reading, please leave feedback!! Konoha in the morning was beautiful. Tenten thought it was simply breathtaking – the way the colors played and swayed at the edge of the unknown – so she could climb at the edge of Hiruzen's head and catch the dawn at its most magnificent. The colors splayed in an endless aquarel that cleansed her soul with both sadness and grandiose self-conciousness, her existence didn't matter much, at least not here, underneath this sky. Polaroid camera she had always had with herself was always to come in handy, and her generous, civillian father, the last of her family (the one she knew) had always fixed it, ever since she was young and she even carried it to the war. Numerous pictures have passed through this polaroid. But ever since the young Sarada Uchiha was born, Tenten's favorite thing had become a different one. All the sunsets and moons and flowers had looked the same. Instead, she was filled with new hope. That life can be good again. No matter how bad our losses. Because if a person who encourages, loves, or just simply makes you a better person exists – you need nothing else. And after the war, the just blooming Uchiha family made place for one more. And another. TenTen, not having a last name to go after was adopted by Sasuke and Sakura Uchiha, three years after the war. Sasuke found out, before the war started, that Tenten was related to him in a very far sense, but still his last (now quite literally) living relative. TenTen was also amazed by the request of the survivor, so she moved without a word. Her three years were spent mourning, Neji and some comrades from Konoha and others whose faces she has seen fleetingly, but missed their existence, through never experienced the joy of meeting them. Sakura helped her the most – in pulling her out of her depression. And Sasuke, for the sake of his last family member not being fucked up. He truly put in effort (a complete one hundred 'n' eighty for him but around TenTen, even the ever-so-beloved Fifth spilt top-secrets of the nation with ease). Her grandmother was an Uchiha, who was Sasuke's cousin. So Sasuke, just based on that decided to elope and meet up with the best weapon wielder in all of the Great Five Nations and beyond. They trained together – Sasuke amazed at her marksmanship – hundred out of hundred hit with pure ease. Some targets she didn't even look at. The sadness didn't prevail – and Sasuke, the person who hated being photographed the most, endured the brunette's hobby. TenTen was being thanked on a daily basis, Sakura had over a thousand photos monthly. And that was just the beggining. Baby Sarada was born – the new hope of the Uchiha clan. And TenTen cried. Because Sasuke brought her home, broke the terrifying loneliness that somehow always loomed over her, because he was smiling, his real smile – and told TenTen with Sakura smiled behind him, "This is our baby girl." And Sarada, opening her dark eyes, cooed, stretching her small, smallest arms over to her, hugging her so instinctively – the child that had seen her for the first time – and she already knew they will love each other forever. And before she thought it couldn't be a purer and a more beautiful sight – she got her little head hidden in the crook of her neck – and the beautiful brunnette brushed the swirl of black hair with her lips. "Ah... you are going to be Auntie's little girl. I feel it..." mouthing a thank you at the two of them. From then on, every day of Sarada's growth, including the one of her family was recorded. Tenten had her first teeth on camera – burps and bumps and snowflakes and birthdays and basics and smallest and biggest: nevermind how ordinary – Sarada and she had a special familial bond. She would childishly sneak into the room and photograph the couple as they kissed, the three year old next to her giggling and revealing their presence. Sakura would pout at the brown eyed girl – but quickly forgive as she noticed the beautiful stroke of light on her pictures – their beauty abnormal, Sasuke's even more so, exceptional and pure, rendering her wordless. To be honest, there were so many pictures that Sakura had just one bookshelf for all the photo albums. If the Uchihas had anything those were the photographs. Sasuke would tsk and hn at the shelf when Sakura would mention it but approve nevertheless. Women would often spend their evenings watching the flat screen and the news in Five Nations, and Sasuke and Sarada would indulge in quality father-daughter time. Uzumakis and the Uchihas often ate dinner with one another and TenTen didn't like to interrupt – but Sakura wanted to always ask TenTen out of politeness, until one day Sasuke asked her (more like ordered her but hey, we don't care about the little things) and she had missed only three dinners in ten years. Boruto's toothy grin as him and Sarada tortured the poor Himawari with hugs, cuddles and tickles, and TenTen would scoff, making Sasuke and the Uzumaki couple laugh. Sakura and Sasuke would even luxurize themselves once a week, having nights off and resting at a small lake just outside Konoha. TenTen knew that they deserved every 'alone time' moment they could get. She told Sarada stories about Neji, how brave and selfish and stupid and oblivious he was, and how she will never marry. She told the little girl a lot. Of love and loss, of relatives and bonds that exceeded those simple labels – and the little girl acknowledged that her auntie TenTen was someone who was actually very knowledgeable of life. Sakura would lay down with Sasuke and Sarada and often talk to him about Sarada's family – the Uchiha clan, because knowledge was very important – and about your roots was a very important one. TenTen was asked these questions but rather gallantly escaped them as Sasuke took on the burden of the existence of such questions. Small and perfect, she would tug at her father's sleeve to teach her how to use her clan's jutsu, or spend the mornings with her mother trying to heal fish or something akin, since she wanted to master three things in her life: become the best nin that Konoha's Uchiha clan ever had, better medic than her mother, the best weapon user in the history. All that in kind, and she would train her patience and kindness too, and become Hokage. So, recording every day of her hard work – the living room quickly became the room with the most photo albums in their house (not including TenTen's own), so the day before Sarada's inauguration, TenTen skated among the most important dates, speeches and trainings, to remind the family and the young Hokage how important and full were their lives – how beautiful their existences. How precious Sasuke's and Sakura's little girl was. Because on the day she put the hat with 'Hi' and put in her the Will Of Fire completely, becoming the Ninth Hokage, Sarada Uchiha was photographed smiling, the picture afterwards showing her cape with the Ninth Hokage emboidered on it – later pictures showing her mother crying tears of joy and her stoic father smiling. TenTen loved both nature and human expression. But her family – Sakura, Sasuke and Sarada Uchiha, no one could ever beat them at a prettier picture they make.
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