#reverse 1999 fanfic
Note
okay I read your analysis on Forget Me Not and I'm in tears now thank you. (No but really thank you, it's such a touching piece.) Can you PLEASE for salvation of our fans souls write anything to like,,, give him hope? Forget Me Not x reader but it doesn't have to be actually all-out with hugs and kisses. We may,,,,,,,, just show him a new hobby? Any hobby of your choosing or idk play an instrument together. Just to give him something else to focus on, to channel at least part of his energy from self-destructive activities to something less hurtful. I'd personally like to bandage his (not actually wounded but still) hands as if they were bleeding. Something of the kind. Sorry for mistakes writing is incredibly inconvenient cuz tears aaa.
;R1999 FORGET ME NOT - "hands, fingers, scales"
Forget Me Not x Reader.
2.3k words.
self-harm implied
You've befriended Forget Me Not the same one befriends a rabid, beaten, old dog. And while he's much too busy fighting his inner demons, you're more worried about stopping these "pernicious habits" of his. A casual afternoon trying to make sure he's taking care of himself turns into something deeper.
thank you so much for the ask, nonnie!!
I got a little carried away with this request because thinking about how fucking insufferable and confusing FMN has to be just to indulge in HAND HOLDING and GETTING A FUCKING HOBBY made me so deranged and feral as if hes not fucking TOUCHSTARVED lmfao. this guy's love language is straight up worshipping, mf is not subtle about it
either way, hope you like it! here's the lil preview!
Sometimes, Forget Me Not understands the reason men and women kneel at the pew to worship and pray.
Devotion is something arcanists and humans share, whether honest or not. He's witnessed the rich and the poor, the pure and the depraved, and every binary that rules this world - all of them begging, pleading and praying at the end of their lives, casting away the pride they've held on for so long for the chance of salvation. Once stripped down to their core, there is nothing to do but hope God has enough love in His heart to look their way.
And sometimes, Forget Me Not prays that you’ll find someone else - anyone but him - to fill the role of devotee.
The gentleness in your eyes whenever you look at him is enough to bring him to his knees, and Forget Me Not doesn't know what to do with himself but to worship and pray. Praying that you'll continue to look at him for a little longer, silently begging for your attention until you finally tire of him. Do you think yourself holy enough to replace the vitriol in his veins?
He does.
On good days, he even hopes that you can save him.
You never asked him to become your one and only believer, of course. You're not even aware of the space you take in his mind, nor the conflicting images he keeps conjuring of you at night, he's certain of this. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here, holding his hands and inspecting them for any injuries. This role is one of the many self-imposed tragedies in his life.
Your thumbs knead and massage his palm, as if you could soothe the pain away, and yet you refrain from pressing down hard. He's at your mercy, why hesitate? What do you see that he cannot?
Something is bothering you. It's obvious in the way you touch him, like you're afraid of hurting him, as if you were the one with a body count between the two. Every so often, your movements come to a halt and you both sit in silence, until you return to your ministrations, filling the nothingness with your sighing and humming.
All he needs is to look up, right at your face, to know everything he wants to know - but he's too much of a coward for that. Instead, light grey eyes follow your index finger as it slides under the cuffs of his shirt. You trace over the bone of his wrist and continue upwards.
He can't tear his eyes away.
Normally, Forget Me Not wouldn't mind. There is an addictive thrill to witnessing the shock of anyone who dares get so close and personal, but he feels himself shrink when you brush against his scales and recoil away on instinct. That's when he raises his head and finds your eyes in the dimly lit staff room.
That expression on your face - surely, you were regretting every choice that led you to him. By now, you might've surely realized that there is nothing for you to salvage in this shipwreck he calls a life. All attempts to check on him were surely a façade for whatever ulterior motives you continued to withhold from him. He's stubborn, believing that he can read you like an open book, but now he's just as lost as you are. When he opens his mouth to speak, you beat him to it and he grows a little restless at your words.
"Sorry, sorry! Did I, uh, hurt you? Dumb question, you would've definitely told me if that were the case. Anyway, it looks like you're okay! I don't know why I was so worried, actually."
His silence prompts you to continue, and all Forget Me Not can focus on is the absence of your warmth.
You raise a hand to gesture dismissively at your behaviour, brush it off to ease your embarrassment, that much he understands - though it's painful to watch you fumble like that, to deny what he hides under his clothes. Forget Me Not thinks of filling the space between your fingers with his own, just to drag you back to that quiet, albeit suffocating, moment of peace. Instead of doing that, he retreats and places both hands neatly on his lap.
"Thanks for indulging me and, yeah uh, again - sorry about that? It just caught me off guard. I should've been more careful."
But you were never careful with his space or his rules, plunging in and out of his life and leaving him to figure out where he stood in his game of push and pull. Why were you being careful now?
"It's nothing, I understand," he lies. Everything you do means the world to him and he doesn't even understand why. "It cannot hurt to know what sort of things the person pouring your drinks might be hiding under their sleeves."
The word "hypocrite" lingers at the tip of his tongue, threatening to spill out with as much venom as he can muster, but it stays lodged behind his teeth because he knows he's even worse: Forget Me Not prays that you'll stay with him, while also opening the door right out his life for you. As much as he wants to, he has no right of calling you out.
He's not used to receiving apologies and so he chooses not to think too hard on yours - though he's dreamed countless of times for the perfect situation in which he finally rips out one apology after another from the throats of those who wronged him, this one feels different. Undeserved, even.
His heart, that wretched lump in his chest, finally settles down and he prepares to end this interaction to save you the awkwardness of addressing his "deformities". But then you go and surprise him once more.
"Come on, I already told you..." You sigh and he inhales in tandem, but you're much too busy rolling your eyes to notice. "That whole thing you do, when you start scratching or, like, picking at your hand? You've been doing it more lately. It had me worried you might've been doing, I don't know - something."
Forget Me Not's eyes widen in surprise. The audacity to notice such things about him? And to put them on display without a warning? What else did you find out?
Part of him wants him to embrace his nature and scare you away, but that's the side of him that's been slowly losing this battle of attrition in his heart - you're a bad influence for him, after all. The other part... Well, it's still trying to sort itself out.
He settles for slowly undoing the buttons on his sleeve. It only takes a moment to roll up the fine fabric to his elbow, knowing you're staring right at him, through him maybe. The expression on his face is one of indifference, one he fights to maintain - this is the most vulnerable he's felt in decades.
That unsightly pattern begins exactly where his sleeves usually end, coiling around his forearm not unlike a snake and traveling upwards. The scales are dark, an iridescent black that reminds him of an oil spill in the middle of the ocean, and the ones at the edges fade away into lighter hues until they mix with the pale, sickly tone of his skin. He knows the sort of beauty he holds, one that can only be admired at a distance, turning into a grotesque imitation of a man when up close.
Forget Me Not presents himself to you and, with his free hand, gets ready to pluck one of the scales off.
"Wait, don't do that-!"
Seizing his arm and holding it close to your chest, you deprive him of the catharsis that comes with this level of self-mutilation. He knows you're connecting the dots, feeling the scattered, empty spaces from all the times you saw him pick himself apart and more. Your fingers brush against his bare skin looking for said spaces, counting them in your head, mourning their loss.
Some scales are in the process of regrowing like unwanted parasites, and he wishes he could feel anything at all just to be closer to you.
"God, what is wrong with you?! What was the point of that?"
Something compels him to laugh (perhaps it's your heartbeat reaching out to him loud and clear through your clothes, he feels it faintly) it comes across as sinister and condescending, the only way he knows how to express joy. Like he's making fun of your concern.
"Apologies," Forget Me Not begins to say, readjusting his glasses. The way you try to keep his own arm out of his reach doesn't go unnoticed. It's such a petty, childish gesture that makes his grin widen and your frown deepen. "I was under the impression you found this little oddity distasteful. There's no need to worry - they will return in a few days, they always do."
"Still, don't do that. It's not funny. It must...hurt a lot."
"Ah, but it doesn't. If else, I'd compare it to being pricked by a very small needle."
"You're just going to find something to nitpick and contradict everything I say, aren't you?" It's the least he can do to repay all the headaches you've given him, and for forgiving his transgressions too easily.
An intrusive thought makes itself known from the depths of his mind - would you forgive him just as readily if he were to kill someone in front of you? If he showed you just how destructive his arcane skills could be when given free reign? Where would you draw the line? And how much could he continue to push his luck before he lost you?
Before Forget Me Not realizes it, you've loosened your grip on his arm and returned to that previous moment of suffocating peace - the only difference is that you've gone from being deep in thought to troubled and miserable, one hair away from darting out the room and refusing to speak to him. At this, his pinky finger wraps around yours and neither of you mention it.
"Can't you... I don't know, do something else?"
"I could be doing my job, but alas, you're keeping me prisoner here." He says, like he's not delighted to be given your undivided attention. There are no complaints when you step on his foot with a huff, he deserved that one.
"I'm talking about the scales thing! You could wear gloves. If it happens when you get distracted then, I could hang around to make sure you stop in time." A pause, and then the sound of your voice becomes unsure and so very small. "Maybe if we covered them with bandages...? But that could be annoying. Band aids? No, no - too unprofessional. It would ruin the whole aesthetic you're going for."
You continue to trail off, coming up with many different ideas and solutions to a problem he caused. He doesn't understand why you'd even bother in the first place. For you to reciprocate the attention he gives you, to care about him? That's the hardest pill Forget Me Not has ever swallowed - it's something he twirls around with his tongue, as if deciding whether to poison himself with bliss or spit it out and continue latching on to his doubts and insecurities.
Outside, in front of everyone at The Walden, he's the one leading the crowd and talking for hours on end, commanding their attention and manipulating the flow of every conversation.
Behind closed doors, all he does is listen to every nonsensical thought, unnecessary opinion and strange anecdote you throw at him.
"...No, that won't work either." Absentmindedly, you fix and button his sleeve back into place.
You've grown used to his silence the same way you've adapted and grown used to his flaws.
"I mean, it worked on me - getting a little slap on the wrist whenever I started biting my nails, but..." Without even thinking, you rub circles with your thumb across his knuckles.
You might as well be the stupidest angel in heaven.
"Why don't you just get a hobby? That's good enough, right? It's been so long since I've heard you play piano, the one by the stage." And just like that, you're on your feet attempting to drag him outside for a demonstration. "You could teach me! That way, we get to do something fun and I get to keep an eye on you."
Forget Me Not knows he has nothing to offer to this world, but when his saint looks at him with such hope, he cannot refuse. The path to recovery seems almost doable when you bump your shoulder into his, challenging him to play the hardest song he knows.
The stars in your eyes whenever you recognize all the songs he plays becomes intoxicating, more so than the sweet, sweet revenge he's yearned for since he spiraled into decadence.
Some days, his patrons join with their own singing or humming, and he forgets that he hates each and every one of them for as long as his fingers dance across the keys - a momentary reprieve from the constant stream of negativity. It doesn't take long for his body to remember his training and soon, he's improvising.
A melody for gloomy, rainy days. A whimsical tune here and there for celebrations.
A song for you and himself - the first one he teaches you and the only one he plays in private, when he's all alone with nothing but his thoughts. Solitude has gone from a noose wrapped around his neck to the perfect time to compose and hone this long forgotten passion. For the first time in forever, he doesn't dread the silence of an empty room, the endless wait between his shifts at The Walden - not when he can simply fill them with more and more music.
And so, Forget Me Not plays, hoping that you'll continue to cheer him on. Hoping that this tiny spark you've ignited in him can truly become his salvation.
#reverse 1999#reverse: 1999#r1999#reverse 1999 x reader#reverse 1999 fanfic#reverse 1999 forget me not#forget me not#outing myself as a huge fuckin religion/devotion as a metaphor for relationships freak#and as a hand freak as well. love it when the smallest acts of intimacy are the BIGGEST FUCKING DEALS for characters who are touchstarved#i love writing reader inserts from the pov of the character instead of the reader like#what goes in their head and shit??? THE INNER MONOLOGUES AND DRAMA ?????#FORGET ME NOT'S WHOLE ACT IS A COVER FOR THE FUCKING MESS HE IS WHEN YOU LOOK AT HIMMMMM!!!!!!!#soggiest wettest most pathetic man at manus vindictae#i hope i got his whole fuckin two faced and contradicting mentality across. mf is not having a good time healing but my GOD hes. trying#he hates you but he loves you but god he hates you so much but yeah he'll still worship the ground you walk on#the title is a pun btw. scales. musical scales. his snake scales#IM VERY SMART
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Bonne Nuit • Voyager x Medicine Pocket
“Bon voyage, they told her before she left… When I met her, I wished her sweet dreams with this piece.”
Synopsis — Voyager comforts the weary and insomniac Medicine Pocket with a secret lullaby she composed for her first earth friends.
Words — 2.3K including the bonus scene.
CWs — References to animal space programs.
A/N — Pure fluff!!! + In this fic, it is suggested that they already have an established relationship. It could be interpreted as romantic or not. Up to the reader, really. Also it contains my headcanon that Medpoc is a dog caretaker.
Last night wasn't a good night for the young researcher.
Enduring a tedious three-hour youth meeting at Laplace was bad enough, but it was followed by a private lecture filled with the same complaints they heard for years, endlessly repeated for a whole hour. Frustrated thoughts swirled in their mind — Decrepit old rats who fail to understand their work should just shut the fuck up, they think. The only thing preventing them from barking back was sheer exhaustion. The fatigue had caught up with them, otherwise they may have bitten someone, really.
The complaints themselves weren't the issue; The real problem lies in how they just wasted their damn time. They could have returned to the suitcase and done their own thing much earlier if only they hadn't been forced to endure the droning of old-timers. By the time they attempted to rest, they were too weary to sleep, resigning themselves to working on obligatory papers through the night... Yet achieving almost nothing by morning. The sense of frustration lingered - more precious time wasted.
…Perhaps it's a call to sleep. Or at least, they should try.
Medicine Pocket stifled a yawn as they wandered through the corridors of the suitcase. The early hour ensured that the halls were deserted, providing a rare moment of solitude. Despite the lack of activity, they still sought out a secluded corner where they could be undisturbed for a while.
As they made mindless beelines around the suitcase's main building, they couldn't help but catch a faint sound. To be precise, music. A very familiar tune played with a very familiar instrument. The violin. Accompanied by the sound of… pups? Wait, they recognize those barks! Those are their pups!!!
Medicine Pocket followed the sounds. Their exhaustion was momentarily forgotten as curiosity piqued their interest. As they rounded a corner, they were met with… Quite the sight.
Dappled sunlight poured through the windows, casting a soft glow upon the scene unfolding before the young researcher's eyes. There on the floor, in an isolated corner of the suitcase, sat Voyager, her slender frame illuminated by the morning light as she delicately wielded her violin. Beside her, their puppies frolicked and danced to the sweet strains of her music, their tails wagging with unabashed joy.
Her eyes were closed, a serene smile gracing her lips as she lost herself in the piece. Her glimmering hair would catch the sunlight in a subtle gleam of colors and bloom, akin to a celestial halo. The alien visitor was playing Bach’s “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring”, a quite popular classical piece but fitting for this moment. With the beagles frolicking playfully around her. They would catch her giggling when one of the puppies tried to climb onto her lap. Cute…
As they stood there, silently observing, one of the pups perked up when it caught eye of them. It immediately rushed to their feet, its tail wagging furiously as it bounded toward Medicine Pocket with unrestrained excitement. The others followed suit, their playful barks filling the air as they said hi to their beloved caretaker.
Caught off guard by the sudden attention, Medicine Pocket crouched down to greet their furry companions, a tired smile tugging at the corners of their lips. Despite the exhaustion weighing heavily upon them, the attention of their beloved pups filled them with a sense of warmth and comfort.
Voyager stopped playing, a gasp escaping her lips as she opened her eyes, her gentle gaze locking onto the newcomer with a mixture of surprise and delight. The music faded into silence as she watched them interact with their puppies, a smile of awe tugging at her lips. Voyager’s violin and bow vanished into thin air before she greeted Medicine Pocket with her usual cheerful wave, accompanied by a giggle. A truly pleasant sound.
They’re showered by the puppies’ licks and pawing but they manage to return her greeting with a weary but genuine grin.
Noticing their tiredness, she gestured at her own lap, patting them. They know what it meant, they’ve been here before. She’s offering them comfort as she did many times before. Despite her silence, Voyager is incredibly caring and observant. Not to mention a great listener, and an even better secret keeper. She’s the only one they could trust to stay by their side through the most risky and taboo self-experiments. The only one allowed to see that side of theirs. And the only one to hold their hand through it all. Especially since she revealed glimpses of her nature several times too. They know what lies under the mask of this ‘girl’. And they adore her for that.
That said, they are close enough to her to lay their head on her lap.
With one pup held closely to their chest, another also on Voyager’s lap right next to their head, and the others scattered around them, they sighed contentedly. She smiled at them as she gazed down, a smile they’d seen many times, a smile that never fails to ease them. The soothing floral fragrance of her uniform and hair, added by the scent of the sun and freshly washed dogs, was a great change in comparison to Laplace’s clinical, chemical, and antiseptic-riddled atmosphere.
Delicate fingers traced their scalp as Voyager carefully untucked the scissors from their hair, causing their locks to fall loose. She set it aside before returning to pat them. Her other hand lingers on the pup snuggling on their torso, also patting the little guy. Their gloved hand would join her, caressing the pup’s back. It barked with soft glee at the attention.
“Mmh… You took care of the puppies while I was away, didn’t you?… I didn’t ask you to. But thank you. Daisy smells great for once,” they finally spoke out, their voice thick with gratitude and fatigue.
She nodded, giggling again. Her other hand, the one that had been patting them, suddenly moved towards their face, gently caressing their cheek. A gesture that is a bit surprising. Medicine Pocket blinked at the sudden change of pace. Her hand was so smooth and warm. It was a good kind of surprise.
Their eyes closed, leaning to the touch. They sighed once again, their lips tugging into a soft smile. “I hate everyone at Laplace. I missed my friends. I missed you, too. I kind of wished we could go on an outing this morning but I… Urgh… I’m so fucking tired. I can’t sleep either… It’s just… Damn it.”
Voyager listened attentively as always. She gave their cheek another pat before moving to the top of their head, gently stroking their messy locks. A gentle signal to ‘go on’. One they understood since they confided in her countless times before.
They chuckled and obliged. “I had to endure those damn old people yapping about the same shit again. It was a waste of time. I could have been doing other things. I could have finished my projects, you know? It was so damn annoying. I wanted to leave but… They kept me there because they told me it’s good for me. They’re probably jealous of me, right? I can bet that it is. Hah! They wished they have my guts to do the things I do. They would still say things like age doesn’t matter, but continue to think they know better than me. It pisses me off… They also made me do some papers. What’s the point of research papers really? The results are right there! I…” they continued to ramble on.
The alien visitor simply sat there and listened. Her hands still moved in soothing, repetitive motions. The puppies have also joined in the soothing, providing comfort in their own ways, like snuggling and nuzzling. They can feel their own breathing calming, the tension in their body loosening. They didn't realize it earlier. Their rambling was a way for them to let go of their pent-up frustrations, allowing their mind to settle down and their body to relax.
A long pause fell over them. A sigh escaped their lips. They then looked up at her and said, “...I'm sorry. I was rambling. I think… I really need to sleep.”
“Ah!” Voyager’s eyes widened as if a lightbulb flashed in her head.
“Hm?” Medicine Pocket looked at her curiously.
She smiled at them, materializing her violin and bow in her hands. Before they could say anything, she spoke. Her voice was barely above a whisper. Yet it was loud and clear enough for them to hear.
“I think… I want to share a new secret with you,” she began.
Her words surprised them. She never initiated any topic of conversation before. It's always them who start talking about themselves and the things they did. It's a bit jarring, but not unwelcome.
Their eyes remained fixed on her.
She moved the bow in one slow stroke, eliciting a gentle long note from her violin.
She continued, "I made it… For one of my first earth friends while I was in orbit. And I… I think she slept very well… So I kept playing it for the next 49 friends who came after her before I touched ground with earth…” Her voice was soft, and her eyes were cast somewhere far far away as if she was reminiscing a fond memory.
She motioned the bow in the opposite direction, playing a lighter note. “I haven’t played it for a long… Long time. But I want you to hear it… Perhaps… It can help you sleep, too.”
They have a hunch on who these 50 friends are; The pups sent to space in the 50s and 60s by the humans. They expected Voyager to know about them, but to actually make contact with them? And play a song for them? They were surprised and a little touched. It is a beautiful thought. And somewhat… Comforting. Is that why she adores puppies very much?
“Do I deserve to hear it?” they asked her. She merely responded with a soft chuckle, continuing to play.
Her playing is delicate and slow. They could see her eyes close, the smile on her lips growing. A peaceful look on her face. The melody is gentle and relaxing, reminding them of moonlight and stars. The puppies seemed to have noticed, as their tails began wagging more slowly, their soft barks quieting.
Medicine Pocket let out a long, contented sigh, their eyes fluttering shut as they settled against her lap. They didn’t mind the puppies snuggling and settling around their body.
They listened quietly.
The lullaby sounded like a gentle goodbye. Goodbye to the tiredness. Goodbye to the weariness. Goodbye to the frustration. Goodbye to the pain. Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye. It was a gentle lullaby of farewell, and a gentle hello of tomorrow. A lullaby that said: "It's okay now. A sweet dream is waiting for you. Rest, dear friend." Behind the sense of departure, there’s also a hint of yearning for home. Or perhaps, a welcome.
The soothing melody wrapped around them like a blanket. It was as if they were drifting away in the middle of a starry sky. Slowly, ever so slowly, they could finally sleep.
Their breathing steadied, and the last thing they heard before drifting to slumber was a faint, reassuring whisper.
“…Bonne nuit.”
Bonus Scene
“Erm… Ugh…”
Medicine Pocket wobbled their way out of the room they slept in. It was already afternoon, so the morning sun they departed with had turned into the warm saturated hues of a sunset by the time they woke up. Voyager and the pups were nowhere to be seen when they awoke, and she must have moved them to the couch with a blanket draped over them (woah she’s pretty strong… But alas, they’re a lanky person).
They reached the lobby. It was quite lively. There’s the girl scout and the girl with a red hood helping that one bunny girl in the kitchen, the TV girl presenting some sort of slideshow about cooking grilled cheese with Lilya’s plane to the pilot herself who looked intrigued, the infamously spooky twins playing cards with the photographer spirit and Necrologist (she’s losing), and so on… Some greeted them, some didn’t.
With the blanket held close to their chest, they kept looking out for the alien with blue hair. They couldn’t find her inside, so they went to the wilderness.
Unsurprisingly, they almost immediately found sitting at the picnic spot, taking a rest from walking their dogs. When she noticed them, she immediately smiled warmly and waved at them. The dogs responded in kind to their presence too, trying to run to them while barking happily, but held fast by the leashes held firm by Voyager’s hand.
Their face lit up, and they briskly made their way to her. “Hey!!! Hi!!! I slept well!!!” they declared with newfound energy. The puppies started to climb up their leg the moment they were in range.
She giggled. She seemed to have noticed the change in their energy level. They could see her shoulders move as she silently laughed.
They sat next to her and let the puppies pile onto them.
After they petted the puppies, they snuggled up to her. She leaned onto their shoulder. A gesture they reciprocated, resting their cheek on her head. They felt her body warmth, along with the faint smell of the sun and her flowery perfume as the usual. They smiled, sighing in relief.
She picked up a box near her lap, and opened it to reveal their favorite — Plain white bread with a little butter on it as a treat. She offered one to them, which they bit and ripped with their shark-like teeth like, well, a dog of course. It was soft, buttery, and still warm. Their favorite. What bliss. She fed some to the pups, too. The puppies certainly wolfed it down, making an endearing mess all over the mat, blanket, and their laps. The two could only laugh it off.
After that, they will be the one to walk the dogs. And then perhaps go back to whatever work they have going on. But now, that doesn’t matter. They’re in good company. This mysterious, lovely, alien darling, and the many many lively pups.
It was a good morning… Afternoon, I mean. Godspeed to their sleeping schedule.
#reverse 1999#Medicine Pocket#Voyager#reverse 1999 fic#reverse 1999 fanfic#nblw#nblnb#demigirl voyager headcanon i will die on this hill#fluff#Medivoya#VoyaPocket#mochawrites#medpoc girlkissing collection
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reality is the freckles on your face and the feathers on my dress (Vertin/Schneider)
Schneider understands the gesture perfectly. A heavy anchor buried in the soil that prevents them from flying away. She looks back up and counts her lord’s freckles again.
Schneider has a way to keep herself grounded in reality.
***
One, two, three, four, five-
“Does chicken sound okay for dinner to you?”
Six, seven, eight, nine, ten-
“Schneider? Are you counting them again?”
Oh. Schneider stops her counting. Whoops, looks like she's been caught again. Her lord is pouting now. How adorable. The girl in the red feather dress shrugs but her lips curl into a mischievous smile as she places her elbows on top of the counter. “My apologies.”
Vertin sighs. “Does it count as one if you're going to do it again?”
Schneider lets out a soft laugh. “Not quite my fault, they're much too cute to resist.”
The Timekeeper blushes red and shifts her gaze to look at the surface of the kitchen counter. Adorable. An expression from the usually stoic Timekeeper that's purely reserved for Schneider’s eyes.
This time, Schneider can't help herself as she slides off her spot and settles close to Vertin, the top of her head nuzzling the white-haired girl’s neck. A moment later, she feels Vertin’s hand finding hers just under the counter. It feels warm.
“I don't understand what's so fun about it though,” Vertin says, her free hand coming up to gently brush against her freckled skin.
Schneider hums in contemplation. She's had an answer ready for months now. A perfect, simple answer that does what it needs to satiate one’s curiosity without revealing too much. As much as Schneider trusted Vertin with her body and soul, this one secret is one she doesn't dare reveal.
The more you keep your wish a secret, the more likely it is to come true.
Her wish is silly, ridiculous, and maybe even stupid but she keeps it close to her heart. Besides, no wish is truly stupid when it comes to her beloved Vertin.
***
She doesn’t quite remember when it began. Perhaps that moment when the storm ravaged the air surrounding them, as she felt the otherworldly rain droplets flying up from the ground beneath her feet, as she felt herself fading away with Vertin’s distraught expression above her. Schneider had smiled then, her heart had felt joy. Joy over Vertin’s eyes being the last thing she saw and her promise being the last thing she heard. But, another part of her felt lonely, guilty, angered. She did her best to keep them hidden as she wanted her smile to be what Vertin saw, not her pain. Then by some miracle from the universe, they were reunited. It had been a rare blessing as the universe is so rarely kind to someone like her and her bloodied hands.
The first few months were hard. It was hard to find balance, it was hard to get used to everything, it was hard to find proper boundaries and limits. When you’ve spent your entire life seeing black and red flags, green feels unnatural, wrong, odd. Vertin had been afraid to let Schneider out of her sight, terrified of her disappearing again and Schneider had been paranoid that this was all just some sick dream meant to torment her, that the Vertin in front of her was nothing but an alluring illusion in her afterlife. The universe isn’t kind to someone like me so this isn’t real, she thought. There were days in between where she felt like she shouldn’t get close to anything, especially the one she loved so dearly. One touch and it’ll all disperse like dust.
One night, Schneider woke up alone, light rain creating an odd lullaby just outside the walls. The sheets next to her were cold and Vertin had been nowhere in sight. She felt her chest tightening and her breath coming out in pants. It’s all a lie. A dream. Everything around her felt uncomfortable and suffocating, the rain outside sounded like droplets of blood falling onto the cold, hard ground after the fire of her gun. When Vertin entered the room again, glass of water in hand, Schneider thought she was seeing a ghost. Even as her Timekeeper held her close, it still felt so unreal and dream-like. Schneider’s eyes lingered on Vertin’s worried expression.
She always thought that her lord’s little freckles were so cute. They were often hidden under the shadows of her hat, but they were so cute nonetheless. It always made her look just a bit more childish and younger. Oh, have a few disappeared? Or maybe new ones have appeared?
One, two three -
Vertin’s arms were warm.
Four, five, six -
Her words of comfort were lovely.
Seven, eight, nine -
It wasn’t a dream.
***
“Schneider? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
Oh. Has she been daydreaming for too long? Vertin must’ve caught the slightly dazed expression on her face. Schneider smiles and squeezes her hand, an assurance. Vertin’s shoulders relax slightly and that is when Schneider catches her lord’s fingers touching the tip of one of the feathers of her dress. She barely feels it and Vertin pulls her touch away quickly soon after.
Schneider understands the gesture perfectly. A heavy anchor buried in the soil that prevents them from flying away. She looks back up and counts her lord’s freckles again. One, two three -
It seems like she’s still here, in her beautiful and very real reality. The warmth around her hand is real, the ghost of the touch lingering on the feathers of her dress is real, Vertin is real.
I’m real too.
“Schneider?”
She couldn’t resist at that point. Her lord is pouting again so how can she not lean forward to press a light kiss against her lips? When she pulls away, her lips curl into a satisfied smile while Vertin’s cheeks grow bright red. Her beautiful reality. One that she will live and be happy in. When time decides to erode her existence like it already did once, she hopes it’s one where she's lived a long life with her beloved at her side.
“It’s fun, my lord.” Schneider grins. “I wouldn’t want them to suddenly get stolen now, would I?”
#vertin/schneider#reverse 1999#verneider#vertin#schneider reverse 1999#uploading this here because ao3 is shit and should burn#fanfic#reverse 1999 fanfic
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Chapters: 1/?
Fandom: 重返未来：1999 | Reverse: 1999 (Video Game)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Sonetto/Vertin (Reverse: 1999)
Characters: Vertin (Reverse: 1999), Sonetto (Reverse: 1999)
Summary:
Vertin struggles with the internal conflict between her Timekeeper persona and her desires. Then the source of her conflicts visits her in the middle of the night.
Aka Vertin isn't sure if Sonetto likes "her" or the "Timekeeper" she struggles to be.
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Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: 重返未来：1999 | Reverse: 1999 (Video Game)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Schneider/Vertin (Reverse: 1999), Sonetto/Vertin (Reverse: 1999), Schneider/Sonetto (Reverse: 1999), Schneider/Sonetto/Vertin (Reverse: 1999)
Characters: Schneider (Reverse: 1999), Lilya (Reverse: 1999)
Additional Tags: Alcohol (Lilya), Implied Relationship (Schneider/Sonetto/Vertin)
Summary:
Schneider wants to see an old friend again, so she asks Lilya for help.
#reverse 1999#r1999#fanfic#r1999 fanfic#reverse: 1999#bluepoch#reverse: 1999 fanfic#reverse 1999 fanfic#ao3#archive of our own#my fic
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HALLO!! I THE ONE WHO REQ THE MEDI AND DIKKE FIC AND OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR WONDERFUL WRITING!!! I ABSOLUTELY LOVE HOW YOUR WROTE THEM ALL. I legit have lot of fun reading it and laughing at poor digger but got bully by two serious person. I really adore how you write their interactions that just seem in character of them and then the end had me screaming in giddyness.
If is okay could i req again for medi and dikke with a reader that often sleep randomly at the most uncoventional of place, which is how vertin found out your relationship with them. Feel free to decline if you cant but still thank you so much again for writing my req i really love it and i hope you have a nice day!! 😭💖💖
Also i so sorry for ranting
A Quiet Moment
Recipe: Established romantic relationships, GN! Reader, Reader x Medicine Pocket, Reader x Dikke, Dumbass and idiot used as petnames, You and Medi try to out fluster each other, Dikke is a super simp for you, Vertin is supportive
WC: 2,001
Chef's Note: WAAAHHH I'm glad you enjoyed the last one!!! I had a lot of fun writing it!!! I'm super happy to write for you again, anon! Don't be afraid to be a repeat customer! If you want, you can assign yourself an emoji even :0! Anyways, I had fun writing this! I have a bunch of requests I gotta bang out though....hehe
Medicine Pocket wasn’t the type for “love”. Or any other foolish emotions. They’ve always found romance to be such a stupid waste of time, taking away from more important things, like their research. More than once a scientist on their team would do something absent mindedly while thinking of their wife at home. Then they’d mess up, ruining Medi’s most important results. Those times were met with no sympathy, Medi ruthlessly tearing into her team members for their foolishness.
…However, you were kinda cute.
And interesting. That’s what Medi liked about you most. You were strange, not like the other people they’ve met. They liked everything about you that was different. Your laugh, your personality, your interests. They found it fascinating the way you thought, the way you acted. Medi wanted to study you, and if that wasn’t love? They didn’t know what was.
However, the two of you had been keeping things on the low. Medi didn’t want their reputation as a mad scientist to be tarnished, nor did they want to show any weakness in front of their fellow arcanists. Not to mention that you had a reputation of your own to uphold, and a lack of close friends on your team to blab to.
The two of you kept quiet about your little arrangement, but that was fine. Neither of you felt the need to brag, and given how fast gossip spread around the suitcase, the two of you were happy to stay far from it.
But oh, the foolishness of a person in love never fails.
Naps had always been one of your favorite ways to pass the time, and with how much training you were getting, a heavy layer of exhaustion hung over you like a blanket. No matter how hard you tried to fight it, you were always a few seconds from falling asleep. Lost within your own dreamy haze.
Today just happened to be especially tiring. You were helping out with some chores around the suitcase, preparing for the next mission, when you felt the strong siren call of another nap wash through you. You dragged yourself through the halls, your body too tired to stay upright for long. You needed a place to sleep, and quickly.
You found your respite in the dining room, underneath the table. It was nowhere near meal time, so you were certain you’d be undisturbed for a while. Dropping to a crawl, you made your way underneath and placed your head on the wooden floor. It wasn’t comfortable, far from it, but it was enough for you to begin to drift off.
Medi hadn’t been looking for you. At least, they didn’t think they were. They’d been wandering all day, avoiding chores like the plague and ignoring the urge to continue their studies. They’d been suffering through a major creative block with their experiments, which frustrated them to no end. They were a genius! Why couldn’t they get it together?
Medi found you underneath the table. At first they laughed at the sight, then a fond smile came to their face. And then, realization.
“[Y/N]!” They called, kneeling down to your side. “You’re going to hurt your back if you sleep on the hard floor!” They warned, shaking you awake.
Groggily, you turned to them, annoyed that your nap had been cut short. “Nuh-uh.”
“The fuck do you mean ‘Nuh-uh’?!” They exclaimed, “Dumbass! You’re going to hurt yourself! What are you thinking?!”
“Tired.” You answer. “So, so tired.”
Medi bites their fingertip through the glove, narrowing their eyes at you. “I’ll have to take a blood test to make sure you’re healthy. Even for an idiot like you, this isn’t healthy.”
“You’re worried.” You state, a warm smile growing on your sleepy face.
“Nuh-uh!” Medicine Pocket shoots back, turning their face away from you. You can see a blush on their cheeks.
“You know…” You begin, reaching for their hand, “I might sleep better if I have something to rest my head on.”
Medicine Pocket’s face grows redder, a pout twisting their expression. “What are you getting at, dumbass? Spit it out!”
“Can I rest my head on your lap?” You ask, bluntly.
Medi covers their face with their hand, still not daring to look at you. A smug smile grows on your lips, enjoying how much you’ve flustered your partner. You don’t expect them to agree, PDA isn’t something the both of you necessarily enjoy. It’s more a game of chicken, seeing who bends first.
Medicine Pocket swallows, then nods. “Of course you can.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. “Oh, I wasn’t serious!” You argue, the thought of PDA making your face heat up.
“Too late to back out now!” They giggle, scooching next to you. They take a seat right next to your head, patting their lap. “Come on, sweetheart, take a nap with me.”
The pet name, despite how mockingly it’s used, sends an arrow straight through your heart. Though you’re hesitant, the offer is appealing. Cuddling with Medi isn’t something you often get to do, and here they are, presenting you with the opportunity.
And so you lift your head, and place it on their lap. They squeak instantly, the flush returning to their face all at once. “Hey! What if someone sees us?”
“They won’t.” You mutter, already losing the battle to sleep. You yawn. Medicine Pocket is so warm, and feels so soft beneath your head. You could stay like this forever, you think. “Nobody will.”
“Are you sure?” Medicine Pocket asks, yet they get no answer. You’ve already fallen asleep, lost in your own dreams. Medicine Pocket sighs, putting a hand on your head and stroking your hair softly. You remind them of one of their dogs like this. All gentle and cute. They find themselves smiling uncontrollably, lost in the bliss of being close to you.
About a half hour later, Vertin enters the dining room.
“Medicine Pocket? [Y/N]?” She calls, glancing around the room. “Where did the two of you go?” She asks herself, a scowl deepening on her face. The two of you were skipping your responsibilities, and as leader, she had to get you both on track.
Medi froze, eyes wide with fear. They couldn’t be caught in a situation like this! Especially by the Timekeeper! But they also couldn’t escape! Your sleeping face was just too cute, they didn’t want to disturb it!
And then you snored. It was a slight, quick breath, but Vertin is a very perceptive girl, and she heard it right away.
“[Y/N]?” Vertin asked, “Are you napping again? You’ve ought to get your tiredness checked out by a-” She leaned over to peer under the table, locking eyes with Medicine pocket.
“Oh!” Vertin exclaimed, before her eyes fell upon you, slumbering away. “Oooh.”
“It’s not what it looks like!” Medi objected, keeping their voice to a hush. “It’s just- I’m just! It’s an experiment! They’re a test subject to me!”
A light danced in Vertin's eyes as she saw you two, though her face bore no changed expression. “It’s alright. Your secret is safe with me.” She gave a curt nod, and stood.
“Vertin- Wait!” Medicine called behind her, panic in their voice. “You’ve got it all wrong! No!”
“You have nothing to worry about.” Vertin reassured them. “I wish you two love and prosperity.”
“Vertin?!”
Though Vertin did not breathe a word to a single soul, the suitcase was alight a week later with rumors of the new couple among their numbers. And though your days of being a quiet couple were over, at least Medi didn’t feel so embarrassed to be seen sleeping next to you anymore.
Her Peace
Dikke had never been a fan of romance in plays.
The way bards would speak on and on about the sweetness of love, of the bliss of another’s touch, of the pangs in one’s heart, it didn’t seem possible to her. How could love be so powerful? She’d felt romance before, towards some fellow knights, though her feelings never clouded her judgment. She always managed to keep a clear mind, and was able to keep her thoughts rational. The stuff the bards spoke of was hyperbole.
…You muddied that belief.
Dikke was unbelievably weak for you.
It scared her, in all honesty. She’d never been so vulnerable around someone before. Your smile made her sway, your laugh made her weak in the knees. She found herself thinking of you late into the night, unable to close her eyes without seeing your face. The walls she’d spent so many years building, crashed around her. Destroyed by a single person.
Nobody knew of this relationship of yours. It wasn’t as though it was secret, it just wasn’t something you discussed with other people. Dikke didn’t often speak on matters of the heart, and you never found a good excuse to bring it up. And thus, the suitcase was unaware of the budding relationship in their midsts.
Dikke had been training for hours. It was what she did to clear her mind, to calm her anxieties. There was something comforting about doing repeated exercises. It kept both her and her blade sharp.
However, it was also extraordinarily tiring. The hard labor strained her muscles, making each movement painful. Though she was careful to never overexert herself, she still remained sore after each intensive workout. This time was no different.
Dikke dragged herself through the forest, focusing on her deep breaths. Birds sang in the trees around her, the same songs they’d sung in her homeland. Bees buzzed by her, brushing gently against her as she walked, clumsily making their way through. The same way they did a hundred years ago. And before then as well. Dikke lost herself in thought as she walked, allowing the nostalgia to ease her weary bones.
And then she saw you.
Like something out of a fairytale. You were sprawled beneath a grand oak tree, your chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. Dikke was stunned by your beauty, completely beside herself at the sight of you. Was it OK for her to see you like this? So vulnerable and pretty?
Her heartbeat quickened, it was so loud she was worried it would wake you. You looked so peaceful, it made her dizzy. The fact that you could sleep so soundly here, without a care in the world… She wanted that tranquility. That trust in the world.
Dikke sat next to you in the plush grass, keeping her guard up. She couldn’t just leave you here! What if something happened? She’d never forgive herself! As quietly as she could, she removed her cape, draping it over you in a single movement.
Dikke loved the view of you in her cape. Seeing it made it hard for her to think, her brain only filled with thoughts of you. Surely it was alright to indulge. Just this once? You wouldn’t mind the company, would you?
Holding her breath, Dikke laid beside you, leaving a few inches of space between the two of you. She didn’t want to intrude, but she wanted some of that peace. Some of that tranquility you held.
It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep. The mix of the workout and your presence was too much on her weary mind.
By the time Vertin found the two of you, you were entangled in each other’s arms. Your head on Dikke’s chest, and her face pressed into your hair. The sight surprised the timekeeper, though she knew better than to react. She didn’t want to risk waking you up.
Later, Vertin would seek you out.
“I see you’ve found your knight in shining armor.” She tells you. Though it doesn’t reach her face, you can hear the smirk in her voice.
“What do you mean by that?” You ask, confused.
“I wish you and Dikke well. That’s all you need to know.” She responds.
You grow too flustered to continue the conversation any further.
#x reader#reverse 1999#reverse 1999 x reader#Dikke#Dikke x reader#Dikke x you#Dikke reverse 1999#Medicine Pocket#Medicine Pocket x reader#Medicine Pocket x you#Medicine Pocket reverse 1999#fanfic#reader insert#Let's Make Friend Soup!#Order Up!
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so let me get this straight
matilda has a crush on sonetto who has a crush on vertin who has a crush on schneider
this has so much potential
#i am waiting for the fanfics#get to work writers#please!!#reverse 1999#vertin#matilda#sonetto#schneider
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My Descent Into Madness About Unilogs
This is more of a full blown conspiracy theory than a theoretical analysis of information, keep that in mind.
So, as always, this will be VERY long and ramble-y so take your time reading!
I left off in my discussion about The Wheel's connection to the Storm and it being the possible key to how it all works without really explaining it. This is why.
The Wheel doesn't just have the ability to create fog that repels the Storm within the suitcase, but also has the ability to summon arcanists.
Through a two dimensional golden thread weaved onto the spindle, it can't be felt tangibly and it doesn't seem to truly "exist" in that realm. But with enough of these "nonexistent lines" can Vertin call out to an arcanist and bring them there.
Specifically any arcanist of any timeline. Regardless of if they've ever been reverse into that era yet.
As well as the implication of summoning an arcanist not just from their timeline, but from another universe's timeline.
Now, I'm about to pitch you the conspiracy theory part of the essay, so entertain my insane ramblings for a bit because this is gonna be one of my hottest takes known to man.
Sonetto didn't survive the Storm in the prologue.
Here's my reason why I consider this a possibility:
We barely knew Sonetto's personality in the prologue, so it'd be easy to do this switch compared to doing it at a later date. But what we can glean from pre-1966 Storm and post-1966 Storm Sonetto is her immediate tonal shift.
Sonetto before the Storm is far more subdued with her way of speaking with Vertin. Professional and could even be considered more polite.
We can chalk this up as her being on Work Mode and with the Storm's arrival approaching, it's far more important to get the task done than her relaxing her mood.
So, let's think about why I think it's not possible for her to make it back to the Foundation on time. In the prologue, we see them discuss a new form of teleportation device still being improved by LaPlace.
It's a means to have a better way to teleport a large group of people from a much farther distance.
With this in mind, it's important that they have the disks to immediately evacuate because it'll take longer to get back to the safety of the Foundation. But they used all three of it. One to summon Vertin.
One to intercept the enemies.
And one-
Was used by Regulus to escape.
And with that time, they only hade 45 minutes left before the Storm hits. Sonetto instructed her squad to go back ahead, leaving her to go with Vertin to investigate.
Even if we're absolutely generous in stating she can get far with using consistent fast travel arcane spells to move her to safety, how much time did she have?
Not enough. Not even the best teleportation spell can get her back in time assuming the nearest London branch is just a subdivision away.
Speaking of teleportation spell, we can even use one of the teleportation spells as a reference. Aferoj Around.
It's one Sonetto suggested Vertin used to summon her, but immediately dismisses it as a possibility. It could be because of the fact that the range wouldn't make sense assuming that Sonetto's been summoned from the main headquarters all the way to where Vertin is. So even an advanced arcane skill like that can't just summon someone in that great amount of distance.
While it's also should be taken into account that with the reverse having send them from 1966 England all the way to 1929 America, it's still an impossibility if they were to still be within London. Because if that kind of spell is so easily executed consistently, then they wouldn't be developing the Teleport disk. It's an advanced skill for a reason and even that has limitations. So other less taxing teleport skill wouldn't have the distance needed to get Sonetto back in time.
Which brings us to post-1966 Storm Sonetto and the wild implication of her summoning. For one, her reaction is far more brighter and excited, familiar even. Much more like the puppy we consider her to be now. It can also interpreted as shock, but the demeanor compared to post-1966 Storm Sonetto at least has a slightly noticeable difference.
One of the biggest difference though, is this:
Madam Z somehow knew about what Vertin's doing and has instructed Sonetto specifically to seek her out.
If we can believe in Vertin's words here, she's never told anyone about this. Not even Madam Z. So to boldly be told that they knew all along is a strange difference that even took Vertin off guard.
Why this is important is to ask you this. Just how much can you tell if someone is replaced with another version of themself? We're all lead to believe that those differences are drastic, but alternate universes doesn't have to be full blown change. It can be as simple as putting on your right sock first rather than the left that day.
Which is why it'd be so cruel and so sneaky to actually have done this switch in the first place. Because we don't know Sonetto enough to have noticed the change. And Vertin doesn't know her enough either after 4 years of not really being that close to her.
And how can I say this could be possible without a little bit more evidence to entertain it? Well, Chapter 5 is the reason I'm making this theory in the first place. And that's because of one person.
Diggers.
This man. THIS MAN.
Canonically fukin joins the Manus. This manfailure is the sole reason, aside from one more reason but i'll get into later, why I thought about this possibility.
Because you can say that maybe after this event in the island he'll just defect to Vertin's team later after suffering the injustice of the arts or whatever, but I like to point back to one of the listed descriptions of Unilog's capabilities.
It can sometimes change the fates of people. So what I'm suggesting is that the Diggers we end up recruiting isn't the same Diggers, but an alternate universe one who didn't join the Manus as he was literally ripped from his timeline to join Vertin's instead.
This could explain many more of the characters in the roster being from timelines far into the past or even far into the future like John Titor. Heck, it explains dead people like Click and Poltergeist being there when they're supposed to be dead. Because summoning them through The Wheel has the potential to change their fate.
So yes, you can also argue that means Vertin did end up saving Sonetto from reversing and they actually do have their timeline's Sonetto still, but there's still the possibility that she's just another universe's Sonetto. She's both this timeline's Sonetto and not at the same time.
Schrodinger's Sonetto. (Note that this isn't the accurate use of Schrodinger's cat logic, it's mainly a joke)
Which now leads up to 100% the ultimate reason why I wanna pitch this idea as possible and y'all already know where I'm leading up to, this is just a huge build up to one thing and one thing only.
S C H N E I D E R.
THAT'S RIGHT. IT WAS SCHNEIDER ALL ALONG. You think I wouldn't go a single damn analysis without talking about my bbygirl? You're dead wrong. If this summoning system has the damn ability to yoink people from another universe and change their fate, then the possibility of getting Schneider back is far more real. Heck, you can even pull a version of her that actually IS an arcanist like y'all I fukin swear I'm not delulu, PLEASE--
ahem.
So that's my thoughts about what could unilogs do. I know it's extremely far fetched, but I like to entertain these ideas in hopes that it might give people a lot of other theories to craft!
#reverse 1999#reverse 1999 theory#this is more of a conspiracy theory than JUST a theory#I'm so sorry for this i've completely gone the deep end#it's months worth of brainrot exploding now that I'm free to catch up on things#I have a mouth so therefore I must scream#i wanna make a fanfic using this concept ngl#i have too many WIPs tho quq
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Obsessed with these two. Like, insanely.
And then this lady. If she asked me to bark I would.
#reverse 1999#I usually don't level 4* in games like these#though its mostly because the people I like are 5*/6* usually#so having most of my blorbos be 4* is such a nice change of pace LOL#; galaxxi's ruminations.#open beta rights got me so insane#like what is the point of adding their scent#this was purely for rhe fanfic writers I'm telling you
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An idea I have for a what-if Schneider survived, but with a slight twist. Might expand on this more with the right incentive.
It starts with Vertin in her own personal office in her suitcase, writing a new report for the Foundation. It has been months since the events of chapter 4 and Vertin is starting to get used to the new responsibilities and workload she has been given with her new position.
Today however, she was left all alone in the suitcase, a rarity these days after she had found a new family for herself. On this rare occasion, everyone seemed to be busy with something, leaving her all to her own devices. Even her trusted assistant who clings to her tightly like a puppy is nowhere to be seen either, for once having a matter she has to attend by herself.
So now, Vertin sits by herself, her report long since finished and finding herself immersing into the silence and quietness of her office.
It felt strange to her.
Just not too long ago, Vertin never paid attention to how silent her suitcase was. But now that she has a family, she realized just how empty things felt, and yet, it didn't necessarily bring her discomfort.
Instead, Vertin slightly smiles, partly out of appreciation of having some peace and quiet for herself after intense months of constantly working herself to the bone to accommodate for her new position, but also because she knows this silence is not permanent. That sooner than later, this place will be filled with noises and music again, and Vertin can talk to those she has grown far closer than anyone else in a very long time. That thought comforted Vertin.
And yet, she can't help but think to herself how it could be just a little nicer if a certain citrus scented girl was still around.
Her smile wanes, a tinge of sadness flash over her eyes.
It's silly isn't it? Vertin barely knew the girl, and yet she can't help but ponder about her every so often. Pondering about how things could have been, how things should have been.
Vertin knew nothing about Schneider, and at the same time she knew everything that mattered. That she was far too kind, too selfless, too loving to those around her to ever think about her own life.
Schneider was like her, and Vertin had really believed that she could save that girl. That she could give her a chance to live on and preserve her memories, and to find a way to move forward again after the Storm.
And yet, she failed, now left with nothing but memories she promises to preserve for as long as she lives. The memories of a girl so different to her, yet so similar all the same. The memories of a girl whose visage was that of a fluttering dove, one who imprints their impression onto you, only to vanish soon afterwards without another word. Stayed just enough to be remembered, gone far too quickly to truly be understood.
Vertin finds herself gazing at the distinctly folded clothes next to her desk, its crimson feathers still fluttering as if the one who once wore it still existed. The girl stood up and went towards the desk, her soft fingers gliding across the leather fabric of a coat far too big for the small woman.
She held it up to her chest, pressing the soft feathers gently onto herself as she closed her eyes briefly.
This wasn't anything strange to Vertin anymore, she had long made a habit to keep the belongings of her companions that were no longer present; a way to remember them.
But Scheneider had wished precisely for her to never forget her, and so she kept it close by instead of storing it carefully away with the others. Even if she knew she won't ever forget, Vertin wanted to make sure to herself, to be sure of herself that the girl whose memories still shine so brightly in her mind can continue to remain clear for however long possible. For a wish to stay fulfilled until Vertin can't remember no more.
Footsteps began to echo from far away, alerting Vertin as she opened her eyes once more. Her eyes misty, making it just a bit harder to see than usual. She wipes them away with her finger, before folding the clothes neatly again as she places them on the same position.
She hears a door creaked open, their footsteps now clearly audible inside her office. Vertin breathes out a short sigh, before turning to whoever was there, like someone from her crew or perhaps Sonetto, with the same stoic expression she always carries with her.
Except, the person that stood by the door was none of them, Vertin's neutral expression drops completely as her silver irises widen.
Standing beside the door frame was a small woman, her frame barely half the size of the wooden frame. Her frail yet still elegant body swayed ever so subtly, enough to communicate the fact that the girl was in fact there. That she was in fact present.
Schneider, the person Vertin has not forgotten, stood in front of her, their soft crimson eyes gazing back at Vertin.
This was an illusion right?
That's what Vertin immediately thought. It wouldn't be the first or last strange phenomenon to occur to her in this suitcase. She has seen many things before, albeit not something quite like this.
Yet, the figure moved forward, casting doubts onto Vertin's assumption as she stepped forward towards the gray-haired girl; her fingers grasping onto her chair ever so tightly.
"My lord?" The illusion spoke, their voice so awfully familiar. Can illusions really talk?
Vertin's hands began to tremble slightly, her eyes never once breaking away from nor blinked at her. She was frozen in the spot, staring at a perfect replica of the girl that shouldn't exist anymore. And yet, her voice felt so close, so palpable, she felt like she could reach for it right now and actually touch it.
Vertin wants to touch it, but this was still just an illusion. It has to be.
"My lord..." The illusion of Schneider broke her eyes away from Vertin for a moment, seemingly spotting something at the corner of her eyes. Was it the clothes? Can an illusion really pick up their surroundings like that, or is it just a trick? But a trick on what? What does it have to gain by tricking her?
Every question piles more and more confusion onto Vertin's mind, with no answer in sight. All she could do was watch the illusionary girl sway back and forth, before turning to look at her once more.
"Did...something happened?" Schneider spoke once more, the distance between them now shrunk exponentially, to the point that Vertin can make out the details on her face. The smoothness of her skin, the light paleness of her cheeks, her confused eyes, gazing at Vertin, an edge ever present to them that only helps to amplify how softly she looked at her; one so gentle and so fragile, like a single touch could shatter it in a single moment.
This was too real.
This "illusion" felt too real.
It reminded her of a spell once casted onto her a long yet still not long enough time ago, one that had also allowed her to see the same expression she was seeing now on this girl's face. That same fragility, that same softness, that same glint in her eyes.
Vertin couldn't help but purse her lips, trembling as they were.
"....Are you...real?"
Her voice was barely audible, her throat so utterly dried that it felt physically painful to even speak. And yet, she had to, for Vertin's hands was trembling from gripping onto the chair far too tight and far too long now.
Schneider's expression swayed slightly, as she seemingly took her time to process the question. Then, an agonizingly long second passes by as the girl's look at her once more with those same crimson eyes.
"Do you want to find out?"
And without another word spoken, Vertin dashes towards her, arms wrapped around the girl as she slumps onto the floor.
Vertin's hands gripped onto the girl tightly, feeling the fabric of the familiar jacket she had held in her arms time and time again now filled with genuine life once more. The crease of the fabric stretches and pulls with each subtle movement from its wearer, so lively with each one.
But most of all, Vertin could sense her heartbeat, a rhythmic, slightly faster than how it usually should be, pounding ever so gently on the same side of where Vertin's heart laid. A right heartbeat.
Vertin gasps, yet no air left her lungs. Her arms closed around the girl's soft body ever so more, as her shoulders began to tremble.
Schneider stayed still, her face flashing through many different emotions as she struggles to find one to stay on, but as she feels Vertin's trembling shoulders, her tight fingers clasping onto her coat so firmly as if for just a moment of careless could cause her to slip away from the girl's hands once more; Schneider stayed quiet, as she wrap her arms gently around Vertin.
The Timekeeper doesn't express emotions. It's what the girl had come to learn for herself. She had learned to process them, understand them and then bury them under her mind, to keep all her emotions firmly set in place. It's what was expected of her, what was needed of her. She had not abandoned her emotions regardless, no matter what anyone tells her she should do, but she had learned to keep them in check, to not let others worry about her.
Yet now, her arms wrapped tightly around the citrus scented girl once more, feeling her soft breath against her neck once again, and that very same girl could only let streams of tears run down her cheeks as her eyes remained still like glass.
After all, even a Timekeeper would cry when witnessed a miracle.
#reverse 1999#vertin x schneider#schneider reverse 1999#schneider#potential idea that may blossom into something more#my way of coping#I like them too much man#writing#vertin#spoilers#r1999#a potential fanfic I may or may not be working on?#re1999#verneider
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Overworked
I'm late but happy bday Horropedia 🥺🫶🏻
Tw: SFW, written with a fem reader in mind, a smol amount of angst followed by much fluff.
Pairing: Horropedia (Joshua) x reader.
May this year witness the freedom of Palestine 🇵🇸🇵🇸
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Work in the Foundation was usually fine, the fact you were a Supervising Field Agent usually meant you got assigned, well, interesting field work. But sometimes the higher ups would demand evidence to backup your mission report "Claims", be it for a trial, or an open investigation, and you would need to spend all nighters sifting through both your and your subordinates' files, as well as archived news articles, archived books, archived tapes, or really anything that could be of use.
To say all that left you mentally exhausted would be an understatement.
More than anything, it makes you yearn to finish up work quickly and go home for a hot bath and indulge in your guilty pleasure: Romance Stories.
You're pretty sure anyone of your colleagues hearing about that hobby would be more likely to think they're being pranked than actually believe it.
You, who worked hard and rose quickly within the ranks of the foundation, despite your young age.
You, who thanks to your constant networking and relentless hard work, was the youngest to be awarded with the title of Field Supervisor, bar Vertin of course as she's the Timekeeper.
Exactly why, when asked, you would usually give the far more acceptable "Tennis" as an answer. Really at this point only very few people have any clue about your obsession, and only because they were your classmates back in your more innocent and naive school days. People like this fool who came unannounced, sitting uninvited on your office couch, thoroughly distracting you from your urgent task.
"And then, we're thinking the main character would be revealed to have actually been the real villain all along! Like the serial killer will still remain a separate person, but the way Blonney's thinking of doing it is making Jessica turn out to be even more terrifying!! We'll drop hints throughout the film and-"
And so he goes, on and on. He even stands up and starts pacing as he bothers you further.
You want to groan. This annoying, silly, helpless, cute, sweet, adorkable fool.
"Aren't you supposed to be grounded?" You say deadpan, "What are you even doing here?"
Horropedia stops and turns, facing you properly, "So you can talk!" He practically cries out with mock shock, his face a mask of "disbelief". "Here I thought you'd gone mute, turns out you were just ignoring me." He says as he walks over and plops down on a chair facing your desk.
You roll your eyes refusing to play along. "Some of us have work to get done, Joshua. We're not children anymore, it's high time you start acting like an adult and quit those silly, childish stories."
"Oh?" He says smugly, but you can tell you've definitely hit a nerve by calling him Joshua instead of his preferred nickname. He then proceeds to take a long look around your office, craning his neck this way and that.
You're not sure what he's planning but it can't be anything good.
"Bingo." He says just under his breath as he stands back up and heads for the cupboard you use as a make shift file cabinet. You tense slightly but remind yourself to keep a cool and aloof facade.
He places one hand against a compartment's door and asks: "So then, there isn't a hidden stash of silly, childish romance novels right in here?" He asks, tapping a finger against it.
Go big or go home. "Please, I outgrew that nonsensical hobby ages ago, do you honestly think I have the time to-"
Horropedia then grabs the door handle without permission and proceeds to yank it open-
Or he would have if the door wasn't locked shut. It doesn't even budge.
You smile smugly. "Did no one teach you going through people's belongings is bad manners?"
"Coming from the person who used to steal from my candy stash? I don't wanna hear it." He says dismissively, now focused on intently staring down your cupboard's lock.
You blush, because he's bringing back embarrassing childhood memories of your's, definitely not because he looks really hot when he stops being a lovable goof, or because of the way the light hits his side profile just right and he looks so serious in a rare picturesque way-
You snap yourself out of your reverie just as he brings something out of his utility belt, you blanch when you realize what it is.
"Seriously? Lockpicks? Who goes around carrying those?! Wait- is that how you got out of confinement?!"
Horropedia ignores you and gets immediately to work.
You spring up and rush towards him, only to arrive a second too late as he opens the cupboard with a dramatic flourish, revealing far too many books with cutesy artworks for covers, some with even more tantalizing titles. In fact, their were so many that they proceeded to slide down and out of the compartment, forming a sizeable pile on the floor.
Your stash now exposed, you do the next best thing and head straight for the open office door instead to shut it. This however is far from ideal.
You turn around slowly and as expected, the dork is giving you and adora- Infuriating smirk.
"How. How did you know they were in there-"
"Relax Short-Stuff, I just know you too well." He says, almost preening with pride at his "accomplishment".
You frown, "Don't call me that."
"Don't call me Joshua." He fires back.
You don't reply, and instead take a silent step towards him, then another.
Alarm starts bleeding into his expression, as he himself takes a step back while throwing a glance at the closed door behind you, no doubt gauging the distance in case you decide to attack.
Instead you ignore him and bend down to start gathering your precious but embarrassing treasures.
"What was that about knowing me so well?" You say offhandedly.
"Well- you used to tackle people who pissed you off so- I mean- Forget it."
Now with you both feeling defeated, he bends down to help you gather the books and says: "When do you even find time to read all of these? Everytime I see you you're either writing a report, heading to a mission or coming back from one."
"The car rides are usually pretty quiet, I can read them in peace as long as I hide the covers." You say without looking up.
After a moment of Horropedia not saying anything back or moving to help you, you look up.
"What?" You snap. You know that look, he's judging you. "If you have something to say say it."
"No, no, it's not like that I just... Do you ever get any rest? I'm pretty sure you even work weekends, and I heard you do volunteer work too. This isn't healthy is all I'm thinking."
You blink. Well yes, he does have a compassionate and sweet side too, it's usually hidden by his general tomfoolery though so you tend to forget about it. You also didn't expect him to be keeping an ear out for news about you, it's not like the two of you chat all that often either. You're caught sufficiently off guard that you now have your mouth hanging slightly open with no sounds coming out.
"Earth to (Y/N), you there?" He snaps his fingers a couple of times, and when you're still silent he sighs and continues gathering your babies- your books, and springs back up to stuff them in your cupboard, then dusts his hands off.
You're looking up at his standing form and damn, he actually looks really good from this angle, really accentuates his already impressive height-
This time he forgoes trying to talk to you and just grabs your from the waist and lifts you back to your feet, giving you a quick pat on the shoulder for good measure before letting you go.
Then he seems to think something over and places a hand on your forehead.
"You're not running a fever, but your zoning out is really out of character for ya. Good thing it's 6 already, you can clock out now." He says with a gentle smile.
The smile isn't exactly rare for him, but it also isn't something he usually gives you.
Ever since you set your sights on climbing the corporate ladder... You have been pushing everyone away, even those most precious to you. You've been taking on more and more, piling the tasks and duties up to the point where, sometimes, you just want to do something crazy and impulsive, to get the load off your shoulders even for a short while.
He's still gazing at you, but his smile is wavering. He's still waiting for an answer though.
You consider what would happen if you say yes to clocking out now, if you even gather some additional courage and ask him to hang out? As friends of course! For old times sake! But then again, if you're already that far, what if you ask him out for real? Maybe just for today, you can ignore the far too many responsibilities piled high on top of you and just-
You shake your head. "No sorry, I'm actually spending the night here, I have a lot of work to get done. I know you want to leave though, so you go on ahead, don't worry I won't rat you out so no one should come to drag you back to the school." You say with a chuckle, and wait for him to get going.
But he doesn't move. You can't read his expression, and the way the light hits his glasses isn't helping. Finally what he says is: "I guess you haven't changed that much after all."
Saying you're bewildered would be an understatement. "Huh?"
He loudly sighs, throwing his head back for added effect as he massages the bridge of his nose.
When he's looking back at you his glasses are now sitting crookedly on the space and you have to hold back the urge to reach up and fix them.
Two hands are now on your shoulders, as if to stop you from escaping the truth. "Listen." He says very seriously, all traces of his usually cheery voice gone. "I'm going to say this as plainly as possible. You're working yourself to the bone. I get it, you have some bigger picture in mind, some larger goal that I probably can't see and you're throwing everything trying to reach it but consider this. Maybe it's just not worth it. Not if you'll die long before you get to it within whatever crazy time limit you've set for yourself. Come on (Y/N), you're a field agent for God's sake, how lame would it be if you bite the dust from overworking on reports?!"
He's panting slightly, that speech was clearly coming from the heart and you really appreciate it, you really do, but ever since he first came in today you've had a nagging suspicion you've been trying to stamp down, but it was time to address the elephant in the room.
"Joshua. Why do you care so much? Because honestly the way you're talking right now..." You take a deep breath, "The way you sought me out today, the way you say all of this... I don't want to sound arrogant, but am I correct to assume that- that-"
You can't do this, if you're wrong what's left of your already dwindling friendship with him might be the price.
You back away from him. "I'm sorry never mind, forget I said anything, I'll keep your advice in mind so please just-" just go! I don't want you here when I cry!
But he must see something on your face because he's pulling you in for a hug. It feels so familiar so right that you can't help but melt into it. The exhaustion finally seems to catch up to you and you can't imagine having to trek the walk back to the dorms, much less get any more work done tonight.
You almost miss it, but you just barely make out the words "Yes, you are correct."
And that wakes you right back up.
You push back and straighten up, and he's immediately startling with you. "W-what?" He asks, looking absolutely adorable. This time, you do reach over and right his glasses.
"What did you just say? You whispered something just now, did I hear it right?" You stare at him intently, your gaze unwavering and determined.
He looks to the side, "Don't look at me like thaaaat." He quite literally whines.
"Like what?" You ask, finding yourself genuinely curious as to what he sees in your expression.
He looks back, "Like I'm one of your high priority missions. Don't give me hope if you don't mean it (Y/N)."
You're tired from a long, mentally exhausting day. Your brain to mouth filter is gone, but then again it usually is around Horropedia. You are not thinking straight but you kinda never are around this man.
You grab his necktie and snatch it down, dragging him with it. Your lips are on his in a second, he's reciprocating (thank goodness) the kiss in the next.
When the two of you break it off for air he has the widest grin he has ever given you. No not ever, but in a long time. The intense nostalgia is the last addition to the melange of feelings churning inside of you and the tears finally fall freely.
Predictably, Horropedia panics.
"I'M SO SORRY?! I DON'T KNOW WHAT I DID BUT I'M SORRY?!?! WAS IT THE KISS? IT WAS THE KISS WASN'T IT-"
You quickly cover his mouth before he broadcasts any more private information to the whole office floor.
"Shhhh! Calm down! I just... I just needed a good cry I guess..." You end meekly, wiping your tears away.
Horropedia stares at you wide eyed. In another situation this would be the perfect teasing material, (Y/N) actually knows how to cry?! Or something along those lines, but evidently even he has better sense than to do that, so he instead silently hugs you again, and doesn't tighten his hold until you hug him back.
You could stay in his arms forever, which sounds cliche but isn't that amazing? That you could get to think of something so silly and cliche instead of the probability of success of your next mission strategy? You take a small step back without letting go, just to look at the wall clock and debate what to do next. You can tell Horropedia is eagerly waiting for your decision with bated breath. Finally you pull yourself out of the hug.
Only to grab your purse and keys, then quickly come back to his side.
"Alright. You win, what's the plan now?" You ask, twisting a scarf high around your neck to hide your excitement.
He frowns slightly, and hesitantly asks. "Do you still suffer from insomnia?"
Of course he remembers. "It's better now but yes." Is your answer.
"Then we go on the most anti-insomnia date to help you sleep!" He announces, opening the door for you.
You chuckle and head out, waiting for him to follow so you can lock your office.
"And where are we going?" You fiddle with your keys, slipping one in the lock.
"To your dorm room?" He asks more then answers.
You freeze. "Moving a little fast there don't you think?" You turn to face him.
He flushes bright red. "Noooo!! I knew you would misunderstand!!! I meant because your bed is there and you could go straight to sleep once you feel like it!!!"
You giggle. "Oh I know, just teasing." You say wiggling your eyebrows.
He gasps "You! I! Why you! Hmph!" He turns and walks on ahead, but there's a spring in his step and he's headed towards your dorm, so you know he's not actually mad. You jog to catch up to him.
"Geez Joshua, not all of us have long legs wait up!"
And he does slow down, but he also throws you a question. "Why do you keep calling me Joshua? At first I thought it was to annoy me, but that can't be right. So what's your reason?"
You consider this carefully. After everything that just happened, admitting this truth hardly feels like such a hard challenge. You talk as you walk.
"More than one reason I guess... For starters it's what I've always known you as... Despite what I said before, you actually have changed in a lot of ways, heck you used to be shorter than me." You laugh a bit, "The name feels like all I have left from back then." You say with a sigh.
He keeps silent, probably guessing there's more, so you continue, "Also... Well, this is a bit embarrassing but everyone calls you Horropedia... I guess I kinda felt special by being the only one calling you Joshua. It's silly I know."
Horropedia stops walking and grabs your hand, halting you too. He's silent for a moment before he croaks out, voice clearly emotional "You can call me whatever you want." Then he goes back to walking while still holding onto your hand, pulling you along. And that's that.
He walks you all the way to your dorm room then stops.
"You're not coming in? You didn't change your mind already did you?" You ask half jokingly but also kinda worried.
"Nope! I'll go bring my tv and some supplies, I'll be back in an hour or so, that way you'll have time to freshen up and maybe relax for a bit?" He says with a small smile, and ruffles your hair lightly.
You blink, then processing the first part of his sentence you ask: "Why are you bringing your TV? I have a TV."
"You do?" He sounds surprised.
"Of course, how else would I be able to play my romance film tapes?"
His mouth forms an "o" shape. "That actually makes sense, I don't know why I didn't think of that. Well there's still other stuff to be brought but this definitely helps save time, alright see you soon." He gives you a quick hug before parting ways.
Now home, you proceed to tidy up the dorm room and hop in the shower, then get dressed in a comfortable but cute outfit and style your hair into something more relaxed and comfy.
You head to your wardrobe and start opening the large bottom drawers you use to store blankets and pillows, and start constructing a pillow fort on the rug, facing the television.
It's not long until you hear a knock at your door, and with less restraint then you would usually allow, you rush towards it and swing it wide open to reveal a-
A pile of shopping bags and a plushie?
"A lil help here? Actually can you let me in?" You hear Horropedia's voice as he tries to right one of the bags sliding down with his knee.
"Ohhhh!" You intone, mesmerized, "A talking pile of bags and a plushie!"
"Haha, very funny." Horropedia's head pops up and despite his words he's definitely amused.
You quickly begin grabbing the bags closest to you and realize they're pretty much all filled with snacks and fizzy drinks... All of which you know for sure are nothing like those issued by the foundation.
"Where did you even get these?" You ask, as the both of you drag the bags inside. From the corner of your eyes you notice him taking extra care not to drop the relatively large plushie.
"Oh you know, I have my ways~" He replies, going for a mysterious tone.
Do his "ways" include Vertin's suitcase? Probably. But you don't say anything, let him have his moment.
When everything is set up nicely around your pillow fort, you turn to ask him what you're watching when you find him on one knee, dramatically presenting you with the stuffed toy.
"Will you do me the great honor, of accepting my humble offering?" He asks solemnly.
You burst out laughing "Wha- what are you doing..?" You wheeze.
You bend down to grab the plushie and admire it, it's a nice medium size, aka the perfect hugging size.
"I thought you might need a little friend to keep you company as we watch-" He takes out a film tape with a flourish "This movie!"
You blanch. "Is this one of your horror films? Are you serious? I thought we were trying to put me to sleep not keep me up all night." You say with an exasperated shake of your head.
"No no listen, you're used to romance movies, they're no good to help you sleep anymore or they would've worked by now right? Maybe what you need is something to wring out all the nervous energy from you so you can relax!"
Somehow that both makes some sense and no sense at once. But then you have a realization.
You pretend to think it over. "I don't know, even if what you say could hypothetically work, and while your gift is cute, I just don't feel like it's huggable enough, you know?"
His face falls slightly. "Oh? You don't like it do you? I knew I should've brought a bigger one-"
"No, what I'm saying is, it's not the same as cuddling with a warm human being."
You wait for the mostly genius yet sometimes dumb dumb young man in front of you to connect the dots. You can tell he did when his face is the shade of a ripe strawberry.
"OH! Ohhhh!! Oh. Yeah, yeah we can definitely uh- cuddle. As much as you want. Of course."
You laugh "Dude we were just hugging and kissing in my office! Why are you getting all shy on me now?" You tug him along by the arm to set up the film.
"I knoooow," he whines, "it's just this is a step further ok? And that was an I'm-really-worried-about-her hug, and the kiss was a very emotional moment my brain just wasn't braining!"
"Whatever you say." You reply as you poke his right cheek. "You're cute though so it's fine." You giggle.
You wait for him to berate you about calling him, the horror genre enthusiast and connoisseur "cute", but all he does is stare at you with a dopey smile, just making you melt.
"Are you sure we can't just watch a romance movie?" You ask softly.
"Nah, we're being our own romance movie right now." He says as he grabs your hand and hoists you up with him, leading you back to the pillow fort. "You'll pick the movie next time."
The screen turns on, displaying the title of the horror movie you settled on. “It’s a classic!” Horropedia says, clearly excited to share the movie with you.
As you both sink into the pillows, the opening title sequence of the film begins playing.
As the horror style music plays, you notice Horropedia lean in his body closer to yours, careful to not make it seem like he was trying to get nearer.
"You can come closer I don't bite," you say jokingly, "and if I was uncomfortable with having you here I wouldn't have mentioned cuddling in the first place."
Horropedia's face turns fully red as he realizes he was not being subtle.
"Yeah... sorry."
His body shifts, and he slides one arm around your shoulders. He then speaks, barely above a whisper, "Can I get a hug now...?"
"I didn't know you were the clingy type Joshua," you start to tease, "and before even the first jumpscare hap-" but you immediately get interrupted by a joke jumpscare, a character that is not the antagonist innocently scaring their friends as a prank, yet embarrassingly managing to startle you "Eeep-" your hands instinctively grab onto the nearest object, which of course has to be his torso.
Oh dear lord. You sigh internally.
You look up at his face, finding he at least has the decency to try and stifle his laughter, though he wasn't succeeding much. But his droopy eyes were crinkling at the sides, and his smile was just too beautiful so you couldn't get mad.
Horropedia chuckles at your expression, probably finding the irony amusing, and the fact it was a fake jumpscare that did you in.
He then quickly pulls you closer to give you that hug you were just teasing him about not a moment ago.
You feel your head lean against his shoulder as he pulls you in, wrapping his arms around you as you both settle further into your cozy pillow fort setup.
"This doesn't count you hear? I wasn't scared or anything, I'm just a bit jumpy." You say, trying to preserve your dignity. The last thing you need is the no.1 horror enthusiast to misunderstand and think you're a scaredy cat, you would never hear the end of the teasing.
You could feel his chest vibrating with laughter underneath you, and he reaches up with the opposite hand and ruffles your hair.
"Uh-huh." Is all he says.
~~~~~~
By the time the movie ends, you're already sound asleep. Horropedia carefully untangles your limbs and carries you off to bed. The day did not go as he'd expected, he'd go as far to say it went more like his fantasies then actual reality.
He tucks you in carefully, being mindful to jostle you as little as possible. He's fairly certain if you go on a second date (you probably will right? This date went great right?!?!) you won't settle for anything other than one of your romance movies.
Not that he minds, really. After today he doesn't think he'll be looking at the characters on the screen with jealousy or disgruntlement. He also thinks he'll enjoy whatever you pick.
He glances at your alarm clock. Oh it was late. He'd better get moving, while he has more freedom under Vertin's supervision now he still shouldn't push his luck. He decides he'll tell you tomorrow about his new, more flexible work arrangement.
He heads for the dorm room entrance, opening and closing the door softly behind him. His last thought before leaving is he'll have to ask what you thought of his movie pick tomorrow.
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From the river to the sea PALESTINE WILL BE FREE ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸.
If you pray, please pray for Gaza and the Westbank 🙏🏻🙏🏻
#r1999#reverse 1999#gacha games#fanfic#horropedia#joshua#horropedia x reader#Horropedia x y/n#Horropedia x You
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"Impossible Girls" - a Reverse 1999 Ficlet
Pairing: Schneider/Vertin
Tags: Character study, implied sexual content, basically canon compliant, angst, wordcount: 1k, chapter 2 ending spoilers
Summary:
Vertin would survive. And Schneider would engrave her name into Vertin with her tongue, carve a place for herself in the Timekeeper's memory.
At some points Vertin reached out to try to touch her back, but each time Schneider pushed the woman's hands aside. Schneider was not someone Vertin could have…or at least, not someone she could keep.
6 Hours
After the battle Vertin laid on the muddy, churned up ground and talked to herself as the beginnings of the storm fell around them. An umbrella wouldn't stop the cold from soaking into her jacket and staining it dark with dirt and blood, but that didn't stop Schneider from walking over and holding one above both their heads.
"My lord, you're actually lying here defenseless…"
Giggling lightly, she knelt down in the wet grass and ignored the shiver that went through her bare knees. Vertin seemed numb to it, and somehow Schneider thought it wasn't because of the extra layers she was wearing. Instead it seemed the looming annihilation of this history was bearing down on her, as oppressive and heavy as the rain.
It wouldn't do to have their fearless leader looking so thoroughly defeated. Putting on a playful smile, Schneider looked down at Vertin and forced some levity into her voice. "I have been fighting for your cause for some time now…my lord was not planning to never repay me, right? No, surely I deserve a reward…"
She leaned down then, tilting the umbrella slightly to hide the two of them from sight, and watched as Vertin finally seemed to break from her lethargy. "Schneider?"
Smile growing minutely, Schneider continued to slowly lower her head. She moved until the heat from their lips echoed off each other, tantalizingly close to a kiss, when—
"Schneider, what are you doing? Don't suddenly get so close to her!"
She felt more than heard Vertin's sudden intake of breath, the moment shattering around them. The Timekeeper murmured Sonetto's name with both alarm and disappointment, not quite able to fix her tone in time, and as she sat up to address her second in command Schneider obediently pulled away, the air between them abruptly becoming cold with absence.
Still, as Schneider got up and turned to walk away, she carried a residual warmth inside her. When they had been suspended in that moment together, Vertin had looked…willing. Tense, but anticipating. Eager.
A plan began to form in the back of her mind, yearning and desperate.
4 Hours
"You're the last one to tell me your wish. Although you won't go…I still want to hear it."
Schneider looked past the Timekeeper for a moment, mind faraway. The beat of silence she took before replying was heavy, as if waterlogged from the coming storm. "You want to hear my wish, my lord? Then my wish is…"
She stopped mid-sentence, suddenly changing her mind. The plan from before nagged at her, more selfish and yet easier to say than the words she'd almost uttered. These, she could speak with a smile.
It didn't quite reach her eyes, but it lifted the corners of her lips all the same. "My wish…is that you would let me give you an unforgettable night."
She took that moment to come closer, the distance between them shrinking with every step, and watched Vertin's throat work around a swallow. It made Schneider's expression finally soften, her smile turning fruit-sweet.
Stopping a whisper's breath apart, she gingerly reached up to touch the top of Vertin's clothed shoulder. "Tell me…would you like to see what else my trigger finger can do?"
2 Hours
When they finally kissed it was with Schneider's hand pawing between Vertin's legs, both of them flush with excitement and heat.
Her free hand was tucked away in the long curtain of Vertin's hair, its usual side bun let down to instead flow over her shoulders. It was still the color of Schneider's favorite feather, one kept in a collection she had back home—she was suddenly reminded of an angel's wings, in that moment.
She had not believed in God in a long time, but a few hours ago she had prayed. Now she was on her knees again, and this somehow felt more sacred—Vertin more holy, loving her more virtuous than begging for life.
Schneider felt her heart beat on the wrong side of her chest. She had never been a beloved daughter of God, made with care and intention, and besides she had dirtied her hands with so much sin. She would not be forgiven. There would be no miracle to save her from the storm.
But Vertin would survive. And Schneider would engrave her name into Vertin with her tongue, carve a place for herself in the Timekeeper's memory.
So she bowed her head as though in prayer, kissed up her lord's thighs with devotion, worship. At some points Vertin reached out to try to touch her back, but each time Schneider pushed the woman's hands aside; there was no use trying to forge a mutual connection. It was too late for that.
Schneider was not someone Vertin could have…or at least, not someone she could keep. Their parting was inevitable. She would not hurt her lord more than this; she would not tease her with the promise of a girl she could not get.
5 Minutes
Before the banquet inside the suitcase, Schneider had swept her gaze over the wall of pictures Vertin had collected from forgotten eras.
There were all kinds of people there: boys and girls, young and old, and all sorts that refused to fit in any kind of binary. Artificial and organic matter, human and arcanist…Vertin told her the stories of them all as they'd waited for Sotheby to finish setting the table, and it had felt a bit like a preview of what was to come. Like Schneider was being allowed to see what Vertin might look after this was all over, when she eventually told the story of a girl in a red feather dress.
Selfishly, though, she hoped it might look different. That Schneider would not just be remembered, but stand out as a special existence in Vertin's heart.
"Hold me."
Vertin did as she asked, and Schneider gave her last confession. Gazing up into the Timekeeper's eyes, the rain of the storm outside the suitcase was replaced by the unbelieving tears forming there. They rolled down Vertin's cheeks and fell down onto Schneider's face, and—and that was baptism enough.
She was ready to die in the arms of her lord. Not lucky enough, but lucky all the same.
#what if I took the ''get impossible girls'' quote and made it sad?#reverse 1999#reverse: 1999#reverse1999#Schneider#Vertin#someone make a ship name so I can tag it#fanfiction#fanfic#my writing#now with ao3 link#I am down bad for that doomed yuri fr#verneider
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Celestial Body • Voyager x Kaalaa Baunaa
“The cosmos is within us. We are made of star stuff. We are a way for the universe to know itself.” —Carl Sagan
Synopsis — Voyager figured that it’s about time she revealed the true form she hid beneath her uniform to Kaalaa Baunaa, someone very close to her. Understandably, the reveal was quite a shock for the astronomer.
Words — 1.2K words.
CWs — Cosmic horror? I mean if a girl holds the essence of the fabrics of the cosmos in her very form and made me touch it, I would be horrified too.
A/N — This is like an elaborate coffee-induced BRAINSPILL, my bad. Voyager brainrot. May write another fic with this pairing that’s less “fuck it we ball” than this one.
The uniform she held onto for years upon years vanished into thin air, revealing the starry void that is her bare skin, illuminated by the moonlight.
“I told you… It’s nothing like yours,” Voyager chuckled, her voice soft.
And indeed, she spoke true. The only semblance of familiarity in her form was the faint outline of a slender humanoid figure she possessed. Otherwise, she’s a canvas painted with the colors of the cosmos. Kaalaa Baunaa's breath caught in her throat as her gaze trailed the patterns of stardust that danced across Voyager's skin. Cluster of stars, planets, nebulas, galaxies, supernovas, quasars, pulsars, and black holes, all woven together in a mesmerizing, swirling tapestry. Some parts of her body, like her face, arms, and legs, were still veiled by a layer of white. The very thing concealing her true nature from the others.
“Hmm?…” Voyager tilted her head as she approached the astronomer on the couch, giving her a closer look at her form. It’s almost intimidating, truly. Having who may be the essence of the universe itself towering over her in such proximity. Yet, there was no trace of arrogance in Voyager's demeanor, only a gentle curiosity that radiated from her being. It seemed that Kaalaa Baunaa’s reactions were quite a delight to this enigmatic creature. After all, who could blame an astronomer for being completely and utterly awestruck by a beautiful being, beyond her feeble comprehension, baring herself in front of her naked eyes?
To be in the presence of such magnificence was both humbling and exhilarating.
As Voyager drew closer, Kaalaa Baunaa felt a rush of emotions swirling within her like a black hole. She could sense the gravitational pull of Voyager's presence, a force that threatened to pull her into the depths of an unknown abyss.
And that description wouldn’t be too far off.
And in that moment, Voyager took Kaalaa Baunaa's trembling wrist, guiding it to her abdomen. Expecting to feel the warmth of skin, instead, Kaalaa Baunaa was met with a… Truly startling revelation.
“Ah!—” she gasped sharply when the flesh of her hand did not meet the resistance of Voyager’s skin. Instead, she felt her hand sink deeper into the alien’s abdomen. She’s… This… Her hand… It… It felt chillingly, hauntingly cold, and empty. The astronomer retaliated, pulling her hand out of Voyager’s abdomen in a cold sweat. What is this feeling? Horror? Fascination? Dread? Wonder?
“I’m sorry… I… Hah… It was too fast. I wasn’t ready,” the woman panted. Was that actually space, or was it something else? Another realm? A portal? A mirage? No. She couldn’t sense any illusions, or was her intuition failing her? Oh, it’s terrifying. She’s terrifying. She wouldn’t expect her work partner to contain the very universe within her all this time. The implications of what she had just experienced sent shivers down Kaalaa Baunaa's spine. Like an ant meeting a god, yet have no words to describe or comprehend what god is.
Voyager's eyes softened with understanding as she watched the turmoil unfolding within Kaalaa Baunaa's soul. She reached out a hand, her touch gentle, and cupped the astronomer's trembling cheek. It proved to be effective, the woman slowly calmed under Voyager's touch, her racing thoughts gradually subsiding as she focused on the warmth emanating from the alien's hand.
“I'm sorry for startling you…” the usually silent Voyager murmured, her eyes shimmering with a mixture of emotions that the astronomer couldn’t lay her finger on. “But I wanted you to see... to understand.”
“No… It’s alright, truly… I just… I… I’m sorry, again… I hope my reaction didn’t offend you… But what was that?” she leaned into Voyager’s touch, clinging to her hand like a vulnerable tiger cub.
Voyager could only respond by looking up in thought, before closing her eyes and shaking her head with a smile. “It’s okay…” Voyager mumbled, her voice barely a whisper against the backdrop of the silent room. “I understand that it's overwhelming… I don’t think I can describe it myself… But… That was me. As I am.”
Kaalaa Baunaa sighed, taking deep breaths. That wasn’t a satisfying answer at all. But in a way, she understood her place as a mortal, and how hard it would be for Voyager to explain herself to her.
“I don’t think I can ever wrap my head around it. I don’t think I can truly ever understand you, just like how I could never understand the universe itself. But I can do one thing I do best… I can try.” Kaalaa Baunaa looked up at the alien with determination in her eyes, a newfound resolve settling within her. She may never fully grasp the intricacies of Voyager's existence, but she was determined to cherish every secret they shared. This is a chance like no other, she thought. A chance to truly witness, even touch, someone beyond her with her own hands.
As Kaalaa Baunaa gazed into Voyager's eyes, she saw a reflection of her own curiosity and wonder mirrored back at her. That’s everything she needed to see.
With a newfound sense of awe and reverence, Kaalaa Baunaa reached out once more, this time with a steadier hand, and gently touched Voyager's abdomen again. This time, she felt the chill of emptiness and the vastness of space with a sense of reverence rather than fear. Each inch of her skin that passed through the other’s created soft ripples throughout the canvas, as if she were delving into a veil of mist. The stars would gleam against her skin and silver jewelries, casting brilliant colors unto her hand. Truly nothing like anything she has ever since before. Not even in the meditator’s realm.
The initial seconds of coldness were just as piercing as before. But the longer her hand lingered in there, the warmer it was. She couldn’t sense the celestial energies she commonly associated with the stellar. But she could feel something truly other. One that she could only describe as… Voyager herself. A cosmos unique to her. Such a revelation is… Endearing, to say the least.
This is the essence of the Voyager she held dear, a beloved friend and partner who is both beyond her yet incredibly connected to her, the same being who enjoyed playing the violin, the girl who admired animals and their sounds, and the mysterious entity who had captured her heart in ways she couldn't fully comprehend.
She felt… So small compared to this being. And yet, this being is embracing her with her essence, her love, her all.
What an honor. A privilege.
As Kaalaa Baunaa withdrew her hand, a sense of peace washed over her, replacing the initial shock and uncertainty with a newfound sense of acceptance and understanding. She looked at Voyager, her eyes alight with a newfound appreciation towards her.
The uncertainty, questions, bewilderment, and countless indescribable emotions stirred in her heart, but the astronomer smiled tenderly, her cheeks tinted with warmth. Is an answer what she wants? Not really… She doesn’t feel the hunger for explanations or justifications. It’s not something Kaalaa Baunaa wants to put her through. But instead… She wants Voyager to know one thing.
“You’re beautiful, dear, please remember that…” she rose from the couch, lacing their fingers together as she pulled Voyager into a gentle embrace, planting a kiss on the alien’s cheek. Voyager returned the embrace with a softness that belied her cosmic nature, her arms wrapping around the astronomer.
“You truly are… Out of this world. I love you. I truly, truly do love you.”
Despite everything, what matters the most to her, is to let Voyager know that she is loved and adored, no matter the mysteries that belies her.
The alien could only smile, as she always does.
#reverse 1999#Voyager#Kaalaa Baunaa#KaalaaVoya#VoyaBaunaa#reverse 1999 fic#reverse 1999 fanfic#wlw#nblw#demigirl Voyager headcanon still here i will die on this hill (2)#mochawrites
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Thinking about to make some reverse1999 fanfic....Likeee the characters are sooo 😍😍
LIKE LOOK AT HERRR
HIM TOO😭😭💕💕 Ughthh literally in love with Pavia
Idk maybe I should have a separate account if I want to make a reverse 1999 fanfic
Also I promise I'm currently working on a fanfic ahahahhah
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Vertin Headcannons
1) Sotheby asks Vertin for help when she's gathering ingredients and materials for her potions. Vertin is really experienced at finding things and catching them. From agile grasshoppers to the most elusive spider, Vertin is a pro.
Bonus: If there's something particularly special in their haul, Vertin will show it to her crew members, like a proud cat bringing back it's most recent hunt. Smoltin energy.
2) Vertin does a lot of sneaking around in the game. This makes me think she defaults to quieting her foot steps and moving like the tiniest sound will rock the Suitcase. The stealth is built in and she can't turn it off.
Bonus: She doesn't usually knock since she spent so much time alone in the Suitcase, but after nearly giving Sonetto a heart attack when she "snuck up on her like a ghost" (it wasn't on purpose. She's too nimble for her own good) she does try to remember. Except when Matilda is around. Sneaking up on her is fun. From the voicelines it sounds like she catches her off guard often but Matilda will scold her if she's prepared for the Timekeeper's antics.
3) If Druvis is sitting on a tree branch, Vertin will climb up to talk to her instead of asking her to come down. Druvis told her she doesn't mind coming down, but Vertin insists. Besides, she's great at climbing! Sometimes they don't say anything to one another and just watch the Wilderness together. From time to time, Mr. Apple will also accompany them.
4) Vertin pays attention to Sonetto's interests. Whenever her assistant lingers on an ad or article in the paper, she'll offer to take treat Sonetto to whatever it is or take her where she wants to go. This is based on her dreams and a few voicelines.
5) She likes Dr. Papper. While she prefers tea, whenever she's with Regulus they end up drinking it so now she associates it with happy, peaceful times. However, she can't drink it when she's alone because it reminds her she could be enjoying it with her favorite, obnoxious Pirate.
6) She knows she should put the leather coat and feather dress back in the closet but she's afraid she'll forget, which is absurd. She never forgets. She had them dry-cleaned before folding them up and putting them back on her desk. When asked why she responds "In case she comes back for them someday."
7) One time she was bitten(?) by one of Sotheby's Catus Cats. However, she didn't freak out and flail around because she was scared to hurt it. Instead, she endured while they carefully removed it. She assured a teary-eyed Sotheby she wasn't mad and it barely hurt but that made the crying worse.
8) She agreed to Sonetto's proposal of greeting each other il bacetto style, but then some of her crew started teasing her and jokingly said they should practice "Italian cheek kissing" too. Sonetto was not a fan of this idea. Vertin goes along with most of her crew's antics so why not?
9) Druvis is secretly working on a special wand that can compensate for Vertin's weak arcanum.
10) Vertin tries to make the Suitcase a Sanctuary for her crew in any way she can no matter how small. There are Forget-Me-Nots in the garden, visible from Druvis's favorite tree. She convinces X to give Regulus a toolbox so she can tinker with her projects. She assists Sotheby in her experiments and tries to procure the exotic ingredients she needs. Whenever she runs errands, she always returns with a snack for Sonetto, even if it's a single chocolate. Their funding isn't much, but she finds ways to make up for it.
11) Vertin takes on odd jobs. She meets new people, learns things, and makes extra cash on the side. However, now that her crew and her expenses are growing, she struggles to find a balance. She's used to doing most things on her own. The crew holds an intervention when they realize what's going on. Regulus "You're our boss not our dad!"
Vertin doesn’t quite understand what she means since she never had a dad but she gets the gist. Now everyone brings something to the Suitcase.
Bonus: Druvis rakes in the most money, Regulus brings in the least. Vertin manages to come back with things that aren't money but still useful like box of fresh fruit or spare parts they could use to improve the Suitcase.
12) Vertin didn't know what homesickness was until one day she woke up to silence. The same silence she thought she was used to by now.
And then she smelled something absolutely delicious. Rushing outside into the Wilderness she found the source.
Everyone was outside barbecuing. They let her sleep in since they figured she needed it. They ask her to join them, smiles all around.
She realizes this is what it meant to be "home."
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Hello. I saw you wrote about the 1999 reverses, can I request something Druvis III romantic with the readers? The way she reacts to lovingly treat her lover at night.
Hope you see my request. Have a good night
;R1999 DRUVIS III - "your favorite flower"
Druvis III x Reader.
800~ words.
fluff
During the day, she stands as the embodiment of elegance: tall and poised, unwavering under the sun. At night, she takes root by your side, seeking your warmth.
ty for your request! not sure if this is what you were looking for, but I hope you like it either way <3
Long, tangled curls tickle your face, your neck, your arms.
The copper ends of her hair brush against your skin like soft petals, until you're engulfed by her. In here, it smells like cedar, tuberose and amber. It smells like home. A wild strand falls over your eyes, another over your nose.
Your attempt to free yourself only make things worse, but then you hear her laugh. Druvis pulls back just enough to save you from suffocating and you're free to admire the sunset hues of her hair─red tips turning orange, until they finally fade into a light blonde. Her deep, emerald gaze meets you halfway at the same time her hands find yours, fingers interlocked.
And she smiles. The Sun itself looms above you, and then leans down from the stars to kiss the space between your eyebrows.
Over the years, Druvis has shown you her favorite flowers, her favorite trees. She's taken you to the most wonderful sights amidst a sea of green, from the high view atop a hill to the small, budding flowers and the patches of moss on rough bark. You remember the feeling of your bare feet against the moist dirt, the dim light of dawn and her hand in yours, guiding you to cross shallow, clear rivers. To run with her through lush flower fields and to climb or rest under the shade of massive trees on hot days.
But none of this can ever compare to her.
It almost feels sacrilegious to think about that time in the distant past when all you saw in her was a cold, aloof sort of beauty, a look of indifference cast upon the world, as opposed to the lively fire that burns within her. But that was back when you only knew of her family name. Now, you understand her better than most. Druvis isn't the sort of person who hides behind ambiguity or misleading words, she prefers to let her actions speak for her.
When it's time to show you the depth of her affections, she almost never outright says it─she shows you instead.
Sometimes, she looks at you with that adoring expression, one that makes you melt on the spot. Sometimes, she asks that you braid her hair or that you read something with her late at night before it's time to sleep. Sometimes, she takes you to see the blooming flowers within the suitcase. She lets you into her world, allowing you to read her like an open book.
Those eyes are all you need to see to know what goes within her mind, and right now you can tell she's happy. So very happy.
"Did something good happen today?" You murmur into her hair as she buries her head in the crook of your neck, taking in a deep breath. It tickles, and she must have realized because she plants a gentle apology kiss on your shoulder right after.
"Not particularly," the reply is short, like an afterthought or a preamble to the content sight that escapes Druvis.
"Just wondering. You're awfully cuddly tonight."
There's a pause.
"... Does it bother you?"
There is no visible change to her tone nor behaviour, but you notice the way she stops and freezes in place, breathlessly waiting for your reply. Oh no, absolutely not. Before her thoughts can even linger on that possibility, you shift positions─instead of laying on top of you, now she lays by your side─and you move the hair away from her lovely face. There is uncertainty in her eyes, it breaks your heart to see it.
You love her, and the quiet strength she holds. You love her, and the way she cares so deeply about the world. You love her, and you love seeing her happy. You love her, and you lack the words to let her know, and so you decide to show her.
You lean in to kiss her as sweetly as the morning drew kisses the earth in the early morning. Her arms wrap around your waist, caressing your back. This moment could've lasted for all eternity, with your mouth on hers, parting only to whisper sweet nothings and words of reassurance, but the moment Druvis reciprocates the kiss with as much fervor as she can muster, her hair follows.
And oh, God. It tickles so bad.
"Hm? W-wait, wait-!" You're interrupted over and over by her lips, and it's only when you start chuckling and laughing that she opens her eyes and stops.
"Sorry! It's just─pfft! It got to my neck, sorry! Ahh, that really ruined the moment, right? Just when I thought I could look cool in front of you for once ..."
Druvis silently watches as you sit up, shaking off that tingling and ticklish sensation. And just when you're about to apologize one more time, you feel her lips on the nape of your neck. This time, there's no need to turn around and look into her eyes to know just how smitten and endeared she is by you. You just hope she doesn't comment on how red the tips of your ears must be by now.
"It's okay, love. You can try again, and again. As many times as you'd like."
#reverse 1999#reverse: 1999#reverse 1999 x reader#reverse 1999 druvis#druvis iii#romance is stored in being silly together#anyway i have druvis thoughts#i like to think shes a little clingy. in the sense of lingering and hovering around her loved ones#especially after the events in-game#but its mostly a way to reassure herself that theyre there. that shes not alone anymore and all#even if she presents herself as a really well put and strong individual#i had to cut parts of the fanfic that delved into this bc it was going nowhere but hey! for the future ig
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