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throwaway-yandere · 1 year

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I Got Reincarnated As A Server NPC In An Otome Game But A Capture Target Won’t Leave Me Alone (Yandere!Diluc Ragnvindr/Reader)

a/n: fasghadsa this is my thank-you fic for @poptartsthings for supporting my fics for the past year!!! thank you for the tips huhuhuhu ;;;—;;; hence, I wrote this diluc fic for *clears throat* "mommy milkers". Enjoy this self-aware yandere otome game!duke diluc ragnvindr!!!

unreliable synopsis: what if you got isekai-d in your favorite otome game and one of the Love Interests found out they aren’t a real person? (or, ya know, whatever the title said lmao)

"Bottoms up, Duke Ragnvindr!"

"No matter how enthusiastic you are, I remain inclined to think that this is a horrible idea, (Y/n)..."

Reluctantly swirling a small amount of fire-water while wearing gloves, the duke saw how the alcohol hardly made a wave. Unsatisfied, he diverted his attention and observed the NPC pour their drink.

"In all honesty, your grape juice is worth more than this, (Y/n)–"

"Shush!" With a flamboyant and dismissive wave, the generic common mob silenced one of the Main Characters. "Don't ruin the mood, now. I had to pull a few strings to get this bad boy right here. It’s such a shame that Mister “Best Boy” Albedo can't come, so we have to make sure I get my money’s worth off of these bottles. It’d be such a waste of francs."

"Wasted like the thousand francs wine you clumsily spilled last year?"

"Don't bring that up again, please."

"Why not?" He chuckled. "If you hadn't, I wouldn't have met you."

"If I hadn't, I would've been drinking with Villager B..." They muttered as they grabbed another glass from the cupboard.

He pretended not to have heard it.

They are both aware that their destinies follow different paths. No matter how hard one of them tries to walk next to the other, this cruel fate will separate them with a penalty that is even more agonizing than the last. All because (Y/n) was a real person, and Diluc was not.

Duke Diluc Ragnvindr is this game’s easiest route: the typical childhood friend who falls for the heroine– Princess Lumine– first. In this genre, he falls into the category of those love interests who are incredibly austere with themselves that they were unable to enjoy the small things in life outside work. Ultimately, he follows the cliche of protecting the heroine from harm until she remembers that they used to play together as children in the palace gardens. Which, in itself, is quite a feat since the duke was not a man many could befriend. Unless you count Chief Justice Ajax as his greatest comrade, then perhaps he could finally add item number 11 to his list of trusted people.

The “Duke of the South” only favored audiences for those he was willing to invest in— after all, he’s famously known for having a “good signature.” It may seem like a compliment for uneducated nouveau rich men, but those with an eye for Gaciean politics knew how much power he has as the head of the Department of Military Affairs. Tales about his on-and-off disputes with the Chief Ajax circled as frequently as Teyvat Time’s popular Paimon-The-Friendly-Fae’s comic strips. Some loved his obsession with national security whilst some were quick to call him a pampered weapon hoarder, but if there’s one thing everyone can agree it’s that they fear the southern duke.

Now, after introducing a political figure with crimson locks of hair and domineering combat prowess, it’s certainly a tough sell to introduce the last person left inside: (Y/n) (L/n).

Unremarkably, they’re merely an NPC from Xiangling’s Seaside Restaurant. They’ve “reincarnated” into this world fumbling about like a newborn until the chef offered a job. Fortunately, they were not completely helpless in the kitchen. They had shown off their managerial skills from their old job since day one. Since then, Xiangling had hoped to train them as the new manager, but (Y/n) preferred to take on some responsibilities gradually. After a few days had passed, they abruptly realized that they were "Server C," an NPC with only a character sprite and a scarcely distinguishable name. The red ribbon-theme outfit from their restaurant was the only thing that distinguished them from the other faceless workers. According to what they can recall, one of their tasks is to give the princess's order of candies while she flees from her overprotective retainer, Dainsleif. It was a tense moment in that common route since all three of the princess’ potential suitors were customers from different ends of the restaurant, which were Dainsleif, Kamisato Ayato, and, of course, Duke Ragnvindr.

… Unable to snap out of their initial shock after recognizing that this was one of the game’s CGs and seeing three attractive men inside the restaurant they work at, (Y/n) accidentally broke the script by spilling the wine on Duke Ragnvindr’s coat.

Since then, (Y/n) had trailed and followed the characters whenever they could for their amusement– often helping their favorite love interest, Albedo, set up the scene so they can view his "CGs" in real life. Due to their apparent lack of stalking skills, they had another off-script encounter with the duke whilst doing so. Instead of heading straight to North Gaciea as he had done in the game, he was delayed seven hours after he weeded (Y/n)’s hair out of the bushes they were hiding in. Their first meeting was horrid, and their second almost went in a similar direction. Almost.

Since (Y/n)’s lies were as visible as their head peeking out of their hiding spot, Diluc had them drink a truth potion to uncover why they were stalking the chief alchemist, however…

… Does the phrase “the truth is stranger than fiction” apply in this case when both the earth and the sky are nothing but lies?

Diluc put on a convincing poker face when they babbled about the game they live in, demonstrating both their objectives and, more critically, their in-game omniscience. Albedo is the only love interest who changes into a feral (and subjectively "hot") monster toward the end of the novel, thus (Y/n) was adamant that he be Princess Lumine's ultimate endgame—but going any further in their explanations would be deemed a "spoiler." Additionally, Albedo’s route could only be unlocked once you finished another character’s route first… and that character happened to be Diluc Ragnvindr himself.

———

“In layman’s terms… We are living in a complex romance novel-esque system, correct? And I am the ‘book’ people often recommend to start the series with first before moving on to the sequel?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“… and I am just a stepping stone for a happier ending? A pawn? A mere puppet for someone chasing a momentary cure for loneliness?”

“Well, it felt real to me when I played your route—”

“Perhaps, but feelings do not change what is real and what isn’t.” Diluc sighed, unsheathing his dagger to break off the ropes that held the server down.

(Y/n) traced their wrists, appreciating now how gentle he had been when he could’ve gone rougher.

“Diluc…”

He bit his lip. It pained him to hear the server call his name as if they knew him.

They spoke as if they were friends the whole time right after they just revealed that his life is a self-fulfilled prophecy of unrequited romance.

And it was insulting.

———

The two have come a long way since then. He lost his faux feelings for Lumine. After gaining self-awareness, Diluc had begun avoiding what occurs in the game’s plot under the NPC’s guidance. To improve Lumine's chances of acquiring Albedo's route, (Y/n) was more than happy to assist him, so they started exchanging chats that ranged from oblique threats to routine discussions only friends could have.

Even so, (Y/n)’s attempts were futile when Albedo revealed to both of them that he knew he’s also just a character since the day he was “created”, and that “I would greatly appreciate it if you stopped attempting to produce an inorganic chemistry between the protagonist and me.”

…The chief alchemist was a smart one for sure and his confrontation had sobered (Y/n) fully. Although Albedo will never be the princess’ endgame nor will he turn into an apocalyptic dragon, (Y/n) had earned his friendship and started treating the rest of the cast as people and not just characters.

Diluc gazed out the window.

It was late into the night and rain was falling. There was not a single domestic sound emanating from nearby homes, which was a wise choice since annoying harpies would have gathered at the sound of human noises. Birds accosted the drying trees and roofs as fog swept through the streets. With the exception of this seaside restaurant, most stores were noticeably closed. The downpour buried the sound of crashing waves just a few meters outside, so no one would have known that this was close to the beach.

"Huh," (Y/n) stared in the same direction. "Didn’t expect it to rain tonight. Guess you can't escape this cheap alcohol-tasting session, huh?"

In the course of his outdoor nightly training, the head of the Department of Military Affairs grew incredibly resilient against mere storms. "I don’t need an umbrella."

"Fair," they laughed, distinctly human compared to the usual polite chuckles he would hear from leeching nobles. "But oh, dear Duke, if you don't need an umbrella then why are you still here? Is it because you wanted to see me– w-wait hold on—I'm kidding— sit down!"

…

They reached for his arm, but try as they might—

their hand only passed through.

The two stiffened.

Diluc’s breath hitched.

That was proof.

Because of this scripted fate, a commoner like them can't even grasp his hand, let alone touch it. Not when the system outright denies the friendship they have.

An NPC like (Y/n) can’t remain friends with a main character like Diluc once they have fulfilled their role in their story.

Diluc was untouchable.

He closed his eyes. Just acknowledging this pains him.

They both sat back down.

Much like how Diluc had pretended not to hear their comment earlier, (Y/n) also pretended that nothing unreal occurred seconds ago.

"S... So, is there anything else you want with that?" They pointed at his glass. "We have a crap ton of limes and cranberry juice! Oh, but I'm not sure if it would taste that good if we mix it, haha."

He could practically hear them force that laughter right out of their throat. Diluc hurriedly swallowed the fire-water they offered him since neither could stand the awkward tension. Diluc cringed.

"Oh, sorry, was it too strong?" Many nobles who detained the duke with platitudes were met with sarcastic comments, but he never hated (Y/n)’s idea of small talk.

"It's fine." He spoke huskily.

"Does it need lime or any add ons–"

"It's fine."

"... Okay."

The silence was painfully awkward... Perhaps Diluc shouldn't have threatened Albedo to sit this one out. He wanted an opportunity to be alone with (Y/n), and this is far from what he had hoped would turn out. Diluc's forehead creased as he held back what could've been a long somber sigh.

"How's work?" He asked.

"Oh, it's been alright."

That doesn't sound promising. This was a trick up his sleeves to snap them back to a cheery mood. Usually, they’d start rambling about their regulars and watch how endearingly entertaining they are. There should’ve been a quip about Itto’s TCG losing streak or how Kunikuzushi and Kazuha were arguing again over where they should place their tent for their next travels. This time, (Y/n) barely uttered a phrase.

They continued, "I don't suppose I could ask you the same, given that most of your work is confidential–"

"The Holy Kingdom’s crown prince visited North Gaciea today."

"Oh?"

Finally, he could see them smile for just a bit. Of course, they’d be interested to hear about Zhongli since he was the poster boy for the game’s sequel. Fortunately for Diluc, (Y/n) never got to play the game.

"That's wonderful! I was waiting for an English Localization of the sequel for soooo long! Was he hot? I bet he’s gorgeous as fu–"

"No."

"No...?"

"I mean." Diluc cleared his throat. It's barely even a shot of fire-water and he's already getting impulsive. "I meant that I cannot discuss the matter further. I am not like Kaeya. This is confidential, like what you had said."

"Ah..." Their eyebrows furrowed "I see…"

Why did they sound so disappointed?

Is (Y/n)… bored of him?

Diluc digressed, "how's Dainsleif?"

"Dain?" Their nose scrunched. "I haven't seen that poor guy for weeks now. He’s probably escorting Princess Lumine to Justice Ajax’s territory like in the game. Why?"

"Kamisato Ayato?"

"Ah, he ordered a crate of Dango milk yesterday," they laughed softly. "I'm amazed at how that man is barely affected by the script. I mean, I guess that’s to be expected when your route can only be unlocked by choosing three unsuspecting dialogue options. I don't think he talked to the protagonist at all these past two years. You’d think Lumine would’ve raised her wits stat high enough to attract his attention, but alas, Lord Ayato’s still lounging around East Gaciea doing Venti-knows-what."

He wasn’t paying attention to their ramblings. All their names sound bitter in Diluc's mouth. Unlike Albedo and Diluc, the rest of the Love Interests are free to interact with them as an extra. Server C had also performed their last scripted interaction with them, hence, (Y/n) can never touch Albedo and Diluc again.

Retainer Dainsleif of the West, Lord Kamisato Ayato of the East, Chief Justice “Childe” Ajax of the North, Chief Alchemist Albedo of Who-Knows-Where, and Duke Diluc Ragnvindr of the South… Princess Lumine certainly had fine options.

The Duke just wished the otome game scriptwriters would’ve let him have his own choice in the matter as well.

(Y/n) rested their elbows down on the table as they gazed into Diluc's distant eyes.

"Why did you ask?"

Diluc frowned, He admits it— (Y/n)’s eyes are nothing to write home about. When compared to an ephemeral beauty like Princess Lumine, their ordinary (e/c) eyes and visage hardly qualify as "distinctive traits." Their vibrant red ribbon is the only thing separating them from the street's grey residents. Yet he can still tell it's them no matter how big the crowd is. No matter how much they look like an “NPC”, to him at least it was a face worth seeing. Even if they mesh into a blob of slime, he can sense their essence through and through.

Although he can now barely make out the features on their face, nothing on this false earth can convince him that he wasn’t talking to the love of his life.

"I..." Diluc loosened his collar, suddenly growing hot at the intensity of their stare. "I simply wished to learn how the two other Love Interests are doing. I’ve had a chat with Ajax, and he still acts like a quote-on-quote “yandere” as you had explained before."

“Is that all?”

Diluc nodded.

"Ah," They shrugged. "Got my hopes up there– I thought there are other “Wasureta: No More” CGs I haven't seen yet."

Diluc smiled and took a drink.

"Ahh..." He exhaled, his eyelids fluttering shut in the process.

"You okay there pal?" They asked. "I know I said we shouldn't let any of this go to waste but you know I can just store them back home right? Oh, you can have some too but I don't think you'd like so–"

"I'll take a bottle."

(Y/n)’s eyes widened.

"Y-You..." They stuttered, "You sure?"

"Yeah," Diluc mumbled, lying to himself. "It tastes okay."

They grinned. The sight makes his decision all the more worth it.

"Haha, great!" They fist-bumped the air "See? Told ya cheap fire-water tastes good!"

Don’t get him wrong, he's not taking one home because of its taste. He's taking one home because it might be the last memento he'll have of (Y/n).

"Hold on, let me get a ribbon." They opened their palms to stop him from leaving. "Can't give the great Duke of the South something that looks barely presentable now would I?"

They left him with a skip in their steps. Diluc smiled.

Now that he's left alone, he silently wondered:

Just how long can he last before he tells the NPC that he wants to ruin their friendship?

———

Along with the sounds of gutted flesh reverberating through the tunnel's dark passageways, a man's hysterical laughter echoed. It was mostly silence in the caves, and there is a strong sense of loneliness upon entering the vicinity. Humans and animals alike would feel as though there is no life inside those walls, but the joyous yet hollow laughter came from the end of the tunnel.

And on the other side, you'll find a red-haired man at his wit's end.

"Tell me..." His words dragged out in a low growl as he grabbed a fistful of the bloody and tattered blonde's greasy hair. The man whimpered from his touch. "Was it fun? Laughing at my misery this entire time? Were you laughing along with them? Lumine, Dainsleif, and all the rest?! Did I put up quite the show there?!"

Crown Prince Aether trembled.

Duke Ragnvindr had everything figured out.

———

“There’s one regret I have now that I’ve isekai-d in this game.”

“What was it?”

“It’s just that,” (Y/n) sighed. “I never really got this game to a 100% completion.”

Diluc raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by their obsession with Wasureta, “and why is that important?”

“Hey! It’s pretty damn important!” (Y/n) grumbled. "Tsk, if only I finished your bad endings… The guides say once you do that, you’ll be able to unlock a secret route.”

“A secret route?”

“Yeah,” they shrugged.

“I’ve read some spoilers from Otomekitten's blog and get this— the last route reveals where Lumine’s brother had been hiding all this time.”

———

The nerves on the back of Diluc's palms were more noticeable as he pulled the poor man closer. Simply put, their faces did not resemble what mankind should look like; rather, they were an animalistic representation of a predator and prey. Hitherto it had disturbed Prince Aether in his rests, but it was too late when he finally acknowledged that something unhinged lay dormant inside the duke.

"P-please..." He coughed. Blood started drooling down the edge of his lips. He assumes that a few of his teeth are likely knocked in, and he can feel his canines prodding inside his throat. "H-have merc–"

With alarming ease, Diluc threw him in the direction of the shelves. The blonde fell and gasped violently when the splintered wood struck his shoulder. The gaping wound on his hips gushed out once more, bleeding onto his carpet and scattered notes. The duke was a monster. He intentionally missed striking his vital organs to prolong his suffering. More blood gushed from his mouth and the prince noisily wheezed out wet coughs.

His Highness has (Y/n) to blame for the hints they gave the duke.

If they hadn't had that conversation, Diluc wouldn’t have figured out that Aether created this “game” world out of grief for his dead sister.

———

“I’ve been alive here for a year or so but I can’t get used to how the harpies in this world look so tame.”

“Hmm? What else were you expecting?”

“Nothing much, it’s just that they look so different in the game’s beta.”

They shrugged. “Fun fact: did you know that “Wasureta: No More” was a fantasy-horror game before the scriptwriters decided to rewrite everything?”

———

"Tsk." Diluc spat and wiped his mouth with his last dirty palm as if there was a major difference. Both are equally soiled with oil and Aether’s blood; it wouldn’t have mattered.

The duke snarled aloud into a burst of savage laughter, "what's wrong, My Creator? Can't even muster up the courage to face your retribution?"

"F-Friend..." Aether called out, hoping to garner sympathy for the Diluc who once looked after both him and his sister at the royal gardens. Hoping to remind him that he was placed number 1 on the list of people the head of Military Affairs had trusted.

"Don't call me that," Diluc's grip on his claymore grew tighter until his knuckles paled.

"Du-Duke..." The blonde looked up. "I can't just... Rewrite this story again..."

"You can," Diluc spoke in a somewhat broken voice. His sanity may be waning, but he cannot deny that Aether was included in the list of the people the duke trusted. "We’re just characters you’ve written. You've done that before. You've done that to Lumine."

"And I r-regretted it!" He sputtered out, accidentally stronger than intended. The blonde scurried to lean against the wall as he feared Diluc would attack him for his offensive tone. "I regretted it. I thought I could revive my sister... I thought that would bring Lumine back into this new world. I thought it would bring her happiness if– if I gave her m-more options–"

"Forced options," Diluc grumbled, rightfully angry at the blonde's interferences. Based on his inference, three of the five suitors wouldn't have been whisked away by Lumine's whims if it weren't for her brother’s influence. And judging by his pained reaction, Diluc would be right.

"But she’s not my real sister.” Aether sobbed. “She never will be— she’s just an image I had of her. And I-I still ended up making this false Lumine more miserable."

"No shit." Diluc snickered with narrow eyes. "You made her miserable—"

The duke just wished he knew where Aether was from the very beginning. He would've had Prince Aether's head before this whole damn game even started.

"And you made me so fucking miserable, Crown Prince," Diluc muttered.

“I just wanted to be with (Y/n).” He breathed in shakily, “is that so much to ask for?”

"P-Please, listen to me." Aether wept. "Ch-Changing someone's fate brings more harm than good!"

THUD.

Aether shook as a claymore thrust through the concrete just a hair beside his ear. He gulped under the towering gaze of those piercing red eyes. They glowered over him, and they were far from pleased. Aether was too terrified to look away as he saw how Diluc's eyes spiraled into the abyss. The air was thick with heat emanating from Diluc’s pyro-abilities. The sound of the metal rang in the prince’s ears like a warning, thus, the strength in his shoulders weakened and his muscles have gone mushed as he cowered down.

Changing fate brings more harm than good? What a joke. By the looks of it, letting fate run its course only puts the prince in greater turmoil.

Maybe Diluc should offer his head to Her Highness. It doesn't matter whether he lived or died, does it not? If she's so desperate to find the missing prince again, it wouldn't even matter what state his casket is in.

"Di–"

Aether couldn’t breathe.

"Don't struggle."

Diluc effortlessly slid the prince's entire body up the wall after grabbing his throat. Aether's feet curled up as he struggled to steal a breath. He tried to kick and claw Diluc's arms away, but the man stood his ground. Ruby eyes continued to pursue him with an icy rage that Aether was all too familiar with.

The fact that they both placed a lot of faith in one another was a mistake.

Aether's eyes started to tear up involuntarily. Diluc spoke those words as if they weren't threatening remarks, but a merciful command. Yet it doesn't change the fact that he intended to assassinate the prince with his bare hands. Aether began balling up his fists and striking him, but it was ineffective.

"..."

Diluc coldly watched his stomach bleed out like a student dissecting a frog.

Aether's vision clouded. As he flailed his limbs like a wild animal, dark blotches started to appear in his line of sight. His fingers are unwittingly clawing at everything as the adrenaline starts to kick in. Aether never wished to harm a soul, but at that moment he was aiming for Diluc's eyes.

His survival instincts kicked in.

He can't die.

Not like this.

"Si–..."

Lumine. Sister.

Aether needed to apologize to his sister.

He still hoped to say sorry— sorry for leaving her to run a kingdom alone— sorry for not being able to save her in the original timeline—

sorry for resetting and rewriting the game just to see her alive and happy again.

Aether had so much unfinished business piled up. So many discoveries he has yet to pen down. He can't die here. He mustn’t.

He grabbed something. A fleeting crimson near his assailant's collarbone.

Was it Diluc's hair?

He pulled harder. All his strength was wasted on that sliver of red hope. Anything that would get his assailant to stop.

And Diluc did. His grip on Aether's throat loosened as the prince fell back on the floor. Aether wheezed, his vision slowly returning to him. His bated breathing echoed inside the room as his eyesight returned to him. When the prince's eyes finally focused sharply, he saw silk.

This wasn't Diluc's hair, it was–

"(Y/n)’s ribbon."

Diluc used the very same ribbon (Y/n) to decorate a bottle of fire-water with to tie up his hair.

Aether shivered.

"It seems like you wanted to choose your death."

Oh fuck, oh fuck.

Aether looked up. He shouldn't have looked up.

Duke Diluc Ragnvindr's face was red with a grin uncannily reaching his ears to a degree that shouldn't be possible. His expression was akin to a lovesick young adult twisted to its extremities. He appeared to look excited. To think that he burns up by just a mention of this person’s name makes Aether sick to his stomach.

"Allow me to heed your last wish, Your Highness."

The prince felt his whole body tense up as Diluc wrapped the ribbon around his neck.

Diluc did not give him any more room to breathe as if his body was moving automatically.

This wasn’t Diluc Ragnvindr anymore.

His eyes were empty.

This was a man possessed.

"Ch...de..." Aether forced out his last words as the ribbon quickly wrung around him.

"S..ve... my... s....ter"

———

Diluc only pulled out of his trance after he started washing the blood off his hands. Elzer subsequently informed him that the duke had entered the manor bloodied and unkempt with no recollection of how he got there and that he had strolled carelessly to the restroom like a corpse. There was a commotion across the entire Ragnvindr manor and rumors that he had lost an unpleasant duel quickly circulated. Better that than the truth, he supposed. Even his memory of what transpired in Aether's basement is hazy. Diluc only had their red ribbon and the idea of winning in his mind. He refused to let things continue as they are.

It wasn't until he started drying himself with a towel that he realized that the crown prince perished by his hands.

To think that Diluc used to be so terrified of offending royalties– of accidentally slipping a lese-majeste out of his lips– but now he let a royal's soul slip out of his wrists.

It's invigorating.

Diluc not only tied his fate with theirs, but he successfully managed to cut their ties with those disgusting vermin they call their “regulars.” They can't have them anymore, and they won't even intend to reach out. No one remembers who Server C is. They are now alone together with him. He’s the only person they can depend on. Diluc's breathing heaved lower. Just thinking about their inevitable dependence excites him.

He quietly closed the door behind him.

"Good evening, Server C." He smiled. "Or, should I say, my beloved?"

Just the two of them.

They won't look at anyone else. They can't. The whole world will now feel what he felt when he was unable to touch (Y/n). Only HE has the privilege to hold them now.

It's just the two of them in this world left. After all, there is no statute of limitations once you learn how to play Creator.

Diluc Ragnvindr had successfully rewritten this game’s script.

He no longer carries any in-game responsibilities, much like how there is no Lord Kamisato, Justice Ajax, Retainer Dainsleif, and Chief Albedo that exists in this “script.rpy” file.

It’s just him and his beloved server, alone.

Diluc wiped his mouth. He's practically dro– no, his mouth is literally watering at the thought. Diluc's heart is pounding, almost threatening to break free from his ribs.

"I’m all you have now, (Y/n)." Diluc's gaze softens. "Isn't that wonderful?"

His hands reluctantly traveled under their blanket where their hands should be, scared that when he reaches out, he'll feel nothing there.

He felt their warmth.

Diluc grinned tearfully. He can finally touch them again. He felt their fingers crossed miraculously against his own.

"You’re so warm..."

He gently rubbed their calloused hand against his cheek.

No matter how overworked or ragged these hands were from washing the dishes, for him, they were silk to touch. So soft. So vulnerable.

Diluc swallowed his saliva with great difficulty. God. They’re so vulnerable right now. So peaceful. So fragile. His breathing increased in volume. He could just take them right here–

His bottom lip started to bleed. He was doing everything in his power not to cave in but his throat was starting to get parched. He breathed in deeply.

Not now. Please, not right now. Not when they probably don’t remember who he is.

Diluc wanted to see the look on their face as he finally kisses them. What expressions will they make? It's not fair to both of them to steal such a moment when they’re asleep. That's not what he had been waiting for. Not what he's been craving.

"My beloved, you're a beauty from afar, but you're even more flawless in my arms," Diluc muttered over their ear.

"And I'll do everything in my power to let it stay that way. Fate and the entire world be damned."

-----------

A/n: want to read more of this in a visual novel form? It's here :)

Edit: HERE'S THS IMPROVED SPRITES AND OVERALL UPDATED GAME!!!

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4K notes · View notes

jesawyer · 11 months

Note

A big thanks to you and your team for making Pentiment, it's an amazing game and it'll be with me for a long time I think, especially the personal and emotional character writing.

I'm curious about what was the inspiration behind, and creative motivation for including, the motif of the labyrinth. The church's painting of the Virgin Mary with the labyrinth seems striking in particular, especially because I don't remember ever coming across a strong association with labyrinths in Christian imagery.

Thank you. I'm glad it was so impactful.

Labyrinths have a long association with Christianity going back to the 4th century, when one was placed in a cathedral in Chlef (now in Algeria). This is known as the St. Reparata or St. Reparatus Labyrinth.

The Chartres Labyrinth was built around 1200.

Christian labyrinths are meant to be walked while contemplating. The path twists and turns, but there is only one way to go. They also all clearly take inspiration from labyrinths of the classical world even if their purpose and origins are effectively lost to those who see them.

As Beatrice says to Andreas (paraphrased), the foundations of our memories become buried and invisible. And she is paraphrasing and abbreviating Plato speaking to Solon in Timaeus,

whatever happened either in your country or in ours, or in any other region of which we are informed-if there were any actions noble or great or in any other way remarkable, they have all been written down by us of old, and are preserved in our temples. Whereas just when you and other nations are beginning to be provided with letters and the other requisites of civilized life, after the usual interval, the stream from heaven, like a pestilence, comes pouring down, and leaves only those of you who are destitute of letters and education; and so you have to begin all over again like children, and know nothing of what happened in ancient times, either among us or among yourselves. As for those genealogies of yours which you just now recounted to us, Solon, they are no better than the tales of children. In the first place you remember a single deluge only, but there were many previous ones;

I also wanted the association with the labyrinth from The Name of the Rose, which in turn was inspired by the Reims Labyrinth.

The Reims Labyrinth was constructed in the late 13th century but was destroyed in the 18th century by superstitious priests. It was through the discovery of drawings that modern scholars were able to recreate and project the path of the labyrinth onto the cathedral floor.

The cover of the 1st Italian edition (and therefore, first edition overall) of Il Nome della Rosa prominently incorporated the drawing of the Reims Labyrinth.

Note the map of the Aedificium:

The final lines of The Name of the Rose are:

Stat rosa pristina nomine, nomina nuda tenemus.

The original rose remains only in name, we hold those names stripped.

This refers to a specific object in the story, but more broadly symbolizes historical records, art objects, and other artifacts lost to time. The Reims Labyrinth remains only in drawings, stories, and light projected on the ground where it once stood; the labyrinth itself was destroyed.

Nomen est; res non est. - The name exists; the thing does not.

As a side note, France uses the Reims Labyrinth as its symbol for historical monuments - an important reminder of how fragile their existence can be.

#game design #pentiment #labyrinth #the name of the rose #umberto eco

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wosoimagines · 6 months

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Celebrations - Vivianne Miedema/Reader

prompt: Arsenal celebrates Viv finally making her return from her ACL injury.

warnings: none

words: 4587

(Y/N) POV

I grinned as I wrapped my arms around Viv’s waist as I picked her up to spin her around. Viv scoffed in my arms before I put her down. She shook her head at me as I only followed behind her.

“Come on, Viv! Be excited! You’re back!” I cheered. Viv only rolled her eyes. “Come on, darling. It’s been three hundred and eleven days. You’re allowed to get excited and celebrate coming back.”

“We’ll celebrate when I actually get subbed onto the pitch,” Viv said.

I shrugged at that. I knew that Viv had been nervous about coming back, but I had been there every step of the way to assure her that she was going to be okay. I had missed getting to play with Viv for so long now and I knew that Jonas was going to sub her on even if it was just for a few minutes.

I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t keep my excitement in. Katie was right there with me. Not that it surprised any of us since Katie was consider the president of Viv’s fan club.

Honestly, I was just really looking for when Viv would finally get to start again. I couldn’t wait to play with her in the starting eleven again.

“Schatje,” Viv called out. I paused my animated retelling of my most recent trip home to turn to Viv. I grinned when Viv motioned in front of her. “Come sit.”

I abandoned my storytelling as I made my way over to where Viv was before I felt her running her hands through my hair so that she could pull it up for me. It was a small thing we had started after Viv realized how nervous I got before games during my first season with Arsenal.

It wasn’t long before Katie came to sit in front of me so that the two of us could talk about how excited we were for our national team camps that would be coming up. Everyone would be flying out the next morning to get to their respective camps.

While I couldn’t wait to go home and see all my national teammates, I was a bit bummed out that Viv wouldn’t be able to come watch my games this time around as she would finally be back with the Dutch National Team. Viv had assured me that she would still make time to watch my matches though as I promised to watch hers as well.

“What are you most excited for, (Y/N)?”

“Tobin and Christen said they’d come out to catch the second game since it’s in San Diego,” I said with a grin.

It was no secret that Tobin and Christen had taken me under their wing when I joined the national team. My Arsenal teammates had been surprised though when I had finally convinced Tobin to join Arsenal and they had seen just how close the two of us were. But I hadn’t had much of a chance to see the two while preparing for the World Cup and helping Viv rehab, all the while both Tobin and Christen were dealing with their own injuries.

“You must miss them, huh?” Katie asked as she nudged my foot with her own. “All of your national teammates?”

My situation was a bit different from everyone else’s on the team, it seemed. Pretty much everyone else at Arsenal had someone from the same country as them on the team. Or they at least knew someone who was playing the WSL that they knew from their national team.

Lindsey was my closest teammate and even then, she was in France. Well, I guess that I did have Catarina Macario and Mia Fishel both were still so new to the team that I wasn’t that close to either of them. I was closer to Jessie Flemming than I was to either of them.

“Yeah, I really do miss them,” I nodded. I hadn’t been called up for our September friendlies after I had been publicly critical of Vlatko and the USSF for keeping him around for so long, but the federation knew that they would only be able to keep me off the team for a short amount of time before there was clear outcry to have me back. “Besides, Becky’s going to be back in camp, so we’ll finally get Captain America back on the field. Maybe we’ll get her to finally score too.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Katie said.

Viv pressed a kiss to the top of my head before she moved from where she was sitting. I let Katie help me up before the two of us had headed out to get lined up since we were both starting today.

While we were waiting in the tunnel I couldn’t help as I kept bouncing on my heels. This should be a good game for us after all. Plus, we had a celebration dinner planned for after the game for Viv’s return.

The second the whistle blew to start the match I knew that it was going to be a rough one. Not that it completely surprised me, Bristol hadn’t won a match yet this year and no one ever wanted to start the season off with four losses so they would try their hardest to stop that from happening. That meant targeting Alessia and staying on my back as well.

Honestly, it was a pretty smart tactic. Alessia’s temper could almost rival Katie’s and that was saying something. If they could draw Alessia into getting a yellow, or even a red, it would shift the game.

There was just one major detail that Bristol was forgetting.

We’ve got McCabe.

Katie scored a banger in the seventh minute giving us the advantage that we had all expected to have.

But it was just two minutes later that the advantage came crashing down.

I had made a run for the ball but struggled to get my balance as I had taken a small shove from one of the Bristol players that sent me crashing to the ground. I had heard the dreaded pop our recent ACL squad at Arsenal had described as I hit the ground. I was immediately clutching at my knee even as play continued around me.

Katie was the first one to realize that I was actually hurt as I hadn’t gotten up yet. She was quick to fight to get the ball back before kicking it out so that the play would stop. She was also the first one over to me.

“Please, tell me it’s your ankle,” Katie said as she knelt on the ground next to me. I clenched my teeth as I shook my head. “(Y/N), please tell me it’s something other than your knee.”

“I’d love to,” I said, causing Katie to let out a sigh of relief. It was always worrying, no matter what color jersey a player wore, when they went down because it seemed like a majority of injuries these days were ACL injuries. “But it’s definitely my knee.”

“Okay,” Katie nodded. I saw her briefly turn to signal for a sub so I could go off. “It’s gonna be okay. Maybe it isn’t that bad.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

I wasn’t surprised by our other teammates coming to check on me or how Kim also stayed close.

“Just a sprain, yeah?” Katie suggested. I glanced up to see that Kim didn’t look super confident in that possibility. “Or just a hyperextended knee? So long as you didn’t hear a pop there’s a chance it isn’t your ACL. Did you hear a pop?”

My eyes caught where Viv was standing on the sideline. I couldn’t let her stand there and worry about me. Not when we were supposed to celebrate her return.

The trainers were close enough to us that they were able to hear our conversation.

“I didn’t hear a pop or feel one,” I assured Katie. I knew that Irish woman would be angry with me when the news did come out because I was already certain that it was my ACL, but I refused to be the reason that Viv’s night was ruined. “I’m sure these guys will take good care of me and have me back on the field in no time.”

Katie nodded as the trainers moved next to me. Kim grabbed ahold of Katie’s arm to pull her up.

“Come on, Katie,” Kim softly coaxed the Irish woman. “(Y/N) will be all right. Let’s get out of the way and let the trainers do their thing.”

Katie hesitated but I smiled at her and nodded so she went with Kim while I let the trainers help roll me over. I brought my hand to cover up my mouth so that no one would be able to read my lips.

“It definitely popped,” I admitted behind my hand. The trainers froze at that because I had just told Katie that it didn’t. “Don’t tell the team. I don’t want to ruin Viv’s night with my own torn ACL.”

“You sure?”

“I heard it and felt it pop. It’s definitely torn.”

The trainers nodded before they moved to load me on the stretcher. I knew that it was something that had become precautionary with all the severe knee injuries so many players had been through recently.

They carried me off the field, but I let them stop so that Viv could check on me once we reached the tunnel, so it was a bit more private. I sent her a soft smile as she crouched so that she was at my height as she cupped my face.

“Your knee?” Viv asked.

“I doubt it’s that serious. It doesn’t feel that bad, I promise,” I assured her. I couldn’t help how the guilt gnawed at me as I said the words because I knew that she would be upset and worried when she did find out that my ACL was torn. “They’re just taking me out on the stretcher as a precaution. I’ll be back from the hospital for dinner. Right, guys?”

There was a course of yeses from the trainers.

Viv sighed as she nodded her head before pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“I’ll see you later, Schatje.”

“Hey,” I said as I reached out and grabbed a hold of her wrist when she went to walk away. I grinded my teeth together at the aching pain that came from my knee at the slight movement. Viv bit her lip at my reaction. “I’m going to fine, okay? Tonight’s about you. I know that Jonas is going to get you on the field, and I know that it isn’t going to be how we planned it with both of us being on the field, but, Viv, you deserve to be back out there. Enjoy that, yeah?”

Viv slowly nodded her head, and I gave her one last small smile before I kissed the back of her hand and let her go.

“No one tells Jonas until after the team has gone out,” I said once Viv was out of hearing range.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You okay, kid?”

“I’m fine.”

Becky had been the first to call me. I had seen all the texts that my national teammates had sent me, but Becky was the one I had answered first. I was hesitant to text Tobin or Christen back. I knew that they would call me as soon as they knew I was out of the hospital, but I didn’t know how long I would last talking with them on the phone before I broke down.

Tobin and Christen weren’t just my team moms. They were my safety net. They had been the ones I went to when my anxiety about playing started to get to me. They were the ones who had convinced me to finally ask Viv out and they had been there through the hardest times in my life. But this was one of the worst setbacks I had, and it was at the worst time with the Olympics only nine months away.

I didn’t even know how long I would make it before asking Tobin and Christen to fly over to help me out while Viv was away at camp. I knew that they would do it too, but I couldn’t help but feel guilty for even thinking about asking them when they both had so much on their own plates already.

“How bad is it?”

I froze at the question. I, logically, knew that Becky would be the one they’d have call me to get information about my injury since she was our team captain, and we were in between coaches at the moment.

“My ACL is torn,” I admitted. I ran a hand over my face as I stayed in the car that was sitting outside the restaurant. Kim had stuck around to wait for me to get back to London Coloney with a couple of trainers. I had assured her that I was fine and that I just had to call Becky to give her an update so she could tell our national team. “I don’t even know what I’m going to do about surgery. Viv’s supposed to head to her own national camp tomorrow. But the longer I put it off, the longer I’ll have no idea what my timetable to return would look like.”

“Okay, you talk it over with Viv and get a gameplan with the medical staff at Arsenal and keep me updated.”

I knew that would be the next step. I sighed as I looked at the restaurant entrance. I wasn’t going to ruin Viv’s celebration so our talk would have to wait until after dinner. It really was unfortunate that we had to have such a quick turnaround between our game tonight and the national camps that everyone was leaving for tomorrow.

“Hey, Becky?” I called out before she could hang up the phone. “I know the federation wants you to report back to them tonight, but do you think it can wait until tomorrow?”

“Kid, they need to know as soon as possible.”

“I know, but it was Viv’s first game back from her ACL. I didn’t let her know how bad it was when they took me off. I didn’t tell her that I heard the pop,” I explained. Viv deserved to be able to celebrate this without having to worry about me. “I just want her to be able to celebrate finally getting back on the field for a game. I’m going to tell her tonight, but I want to be the one to do it. Not the team breaking the news.”

“Okay, but I call them at eight o’clock tonight,” Becky relented. I nodded in relief even though she couldn’t see me. “That’s like four hours. So, you make sure you tell her before then.”

“I will. I promise.”

We wrapped up our conversation as I made her promise to let the rest of the girls know that I missed all of them and I was upset that I wouldn’t be there to see them but that I trusted that they would win without me.

I took a moment to compose myself before I grabbed the crutches from the back of the car to head into the restaurant. I was slower to get back to the private room where the others already were. I could see the worry in my teammates faces when they saw the crutches. But my eyes met with Viv’s as I ignored our teammates.

Viv’s eyes darted down to the knee that I had hurt as she immediately started to fidget with the rings on her fingers. I started to make my way toward her before I took a seat next to her. Once I had the crutches leaned against the wall that was behind us, I grabbed ahold of her hand.

“It’s fine. Just hyperextended,” I assured her. Viv’s shoulders dropped in relief. “Doc said to get rest and the trainers will reevaluate next week to see how it’s looking. I’ll be back on the field in no time. I promise.”

Viv smiled at that as she gave my hand a tight squeeze. The guilt hit me hard as I watched the worry disappear from Viv’s eyes. I knew it was cruel to give her this false hope, but I didn’t want to ruin this for her.

“Great! That means you’ll be back with us in no time!” Katie cheered. I shook my head as Viv and I both turned to look at her. “Just too bad you won’t be going to national camp now.”

I rolled my eyes. I didn’t need to think about that right now. Especially because it still hadn’t really hit just yet that I was going to be missing out on seeing some of my best friends for the second camp in a row.

“Just wait, McCabe. Once Beth, Viv, and I all get back on the field, it’ll be your spot that I take, and you’ll be the one riding the bench.”

Katie gasped at that before she pretended that I had actually hurt her. I couldn’t help but smile as Viv laughed at Katie.

As our night moved along, I found myself forgetting about the injury I had just sustained and instead lost myself in the celebration. It wasn’t even anything big we did for Viv. We didn’t even focus too much attention on her, but Viv honestly did love being around the rest of the team.

While she hadn’t been completely separated from the team during her injury and rehab, she had missed getting to spend as much time as she was used to with the rest of the team. I had also been careful to limit how much either of us committed to team bonding nights, especially when it was game nights knowing that as much as she pretended to hate the games, Viv was one of the most competitive people I knew, and she would have been upset by the number of games she couldn’t join in.

It was nice to see her enjoying herself with the rest of the team.

Aside from being the newest one on the team to be injured, today was amazing. Even as dinner was winding down and some of our teammates started to make their leave. Katie assuring both Viv and I that she was covering our meals tonight as the president of Viv’s fan club.

Of course, we could only go for so long though before something had to go wrong when our squad was around.

I hadn’t even been paying attention to the Aussies who were messing around next to the table that Viv and I were still sitting at as we both quietly talked to each other. I knew that the two of us would be making our leave soon as Viv was obviously worn out from the day.

I moved to slide out of my seat, but that proved to be the wrong thing to do because as soon as I had turned so that I could maneuver my way to my feet, Kyra had taken off to get away from Caitlin who was trying to chase her. Which meant that both of them collided with my recently injured knee.

I gasped as I tried to hold back the tears while I turned back in my seat to keep it from being ran into again. I was very away of how all of the attention had been turned to me.

The aching pain that I had been able to ignore all night was back and it was ten times worse now. It was so bad that I couldn’t even process the apologies coming from Kyra and Caitlin. Viv was quick to move around the table so that she could be on the side I was trying to get out from as she waited for the pain to subside.

“Did they give you anything for the pain?” Viv asked.

I shook my head before I fished out the prescription from my jacket pocket.

“I have a prescription, but I’ll have to get it from the pharmacy tomorrow.”

Viv took the prescription from me. I was also a bit surprised to find that she had shooed the others away so that we were in the room by ourselves.

“Why would they give you a prescription if you just hyperextended your knee?”

I sighed at the question. I really didn’t want to do this here. I would do it at home, but not here where anyone could hear us.

“(Y/N), they wouldn’t give this to you if you hyperextended your knee. Especially not a prescription for this much,” Viv pointed out. I knew that she had figured it out. Viv looked up at me as I felt my shoulder slump forward. I was already over this injury, and I had only had it for about five hours. “Why would they write you a prescription?”

“Not here, Viv.”

“Yes, here.”

“No. I’m not doing this here,” I said. Viv scoffed as she looked away from me. “We can talk about it as soon as we get home where it’ll be a private talk, but I’m not going to do this in public.”

Viv huffed as she stayed crouched in front of me for a moment before helping me up and situated with my crutches. Our walk outside was a silent one until we actually reached outside. Once we were outside, I found myself saying goodbye to our teammates and assuring both Kyra and Caitlin that I would be fine.

Viv stayed by my side as we made our way to the car. She even helped me get into the car. Something that we had mastered when she tore ACL, but it was a little awkward now. Both of us were used to doing the other’s role.

Viv stayed silent the whole ride back to our apartment. This morning’s playlist to get us both excited about the match we had today was the only thing keeping us from complete silence inside the car.

Even when we got home, Viv stayed quiet. She had gotten both of our bags out without a sound and followed me into the building. Her watching me struggle with the door for a moment before she held it open all the way so that I could get in without having to worry if the door was going to close on me or not. She stayed behind me as we made our way into the building.

I wasn’t sure if she refused to move in front of me just so she wouldn’t have to face me or if it was just because she was afraid that I’d fall and she thought she had a better chance at catching me if she was behind me.

Our trip from the elevator to our apartment took longer than normal as I was getting used to the crutches and couldn’t move as fast as Viv had eventually been able to. But once we were inside of our apartment, I moved to sit on the couch. I was fully prepared to sleep on the couch as well if she was mad enough at me. After all she was the one that would be going to a national camp tomorrow, so she’d need a better rest than me.

“I was going to tell you,” I assured her as she took a seat on the couch once our bags were put up. “I promise I was.”

“And did you plan on telling me before or after I left for camp?”

“I’m not a complete asshole, Viv. I was going to tell you as soon as we got home. But I knew what tonight meant for you. Three hundred and eleven days and you finally got back on the field. You deserved to celebrate with your friends. I wasn’t just going to let you skip that to baby me when I’m fine.”

“You tore your ACL! I don’t think you get what that’s like! Take it from some‒”

“I know! I know,” I cut her off. I couldn’t stop the tears that were threatening to fall as it was all finally catching up to me. “I’ll be out for at least six months, but it will more than likely be closer to nine before I can get on the field again. I’ll probably miss the Olympics because if it takes me nine months to come back then there’s no way I’ll be in form to go to the Olympics. And I’ll probably have more bad days than good ones.”

“When are you having surgery?”

“I don’t know, Viv. It just happened tonight. I’ll probably go talk to the team medics and a doctor tomorrow to figure out a plan.”

“I’ll call Jonker and let him know that I won’t be at camp.”

“No. No!” I moved forward to snatch her phone away from her. Viv tried to reach for it, but I moved back as far as I could. “You’re not doing that! You’re going to camp. I’m not letting you ruin everything you’ve worked for because of me.”

“You were there for me! Why can’t I be there for you?”

“I’m not saying that you can’t be. But you’re not putting your own career on hold because I have to have a surgery.”

“Then what about while I’m gone? It a lot harder to take care of yourself when you’re on crutches than you think.”

I sighed as I pinched the bridge of my nose. We were getting nowhere with this.

“Beth and Leah and Laura are all still going to be here. None of them were called up,” I pointed out. I hadn’t really thought about asking any of them if they’d be okay to help me out. “I can always ask them to help me. I’m sure that Tobin or Christen wouldn’t mind flying over to help me out for a couple of days.”

“I want to be able to take care of you like you took care of me,” Viv admitted as she moved closer to me. I sighed as I threaded a hand in her hair. “It’s scary and I would have never gotten through my own injury without you. I want us to be able to play together again and that means that you’ve got to get through this, but it’s hard and so emotionally draining.”

“And you are the one that’s going to get me through it,” I said. Viv perked up a little at that. “But I’m not going to let you sacrifice your own career because of mine. Especially not when you just got yours back. So, you’re going to camp.”

“But what about your surgery?”

I sighed as I moved my hand to play with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck. It knew that Viv always calmed down when I did that.

“I’ll wait to schedule it until you’re back from camp. And I’ll make sure that it won’t clash with the Manchester City game,” I assured Viv. Viv sighed before nodding in agreement. “Besides, between the girls who weren’t called up and our medical team, I’ll be well taken care of while you’re gone. And I’ll be sure to talk to you every day.”

“And if it ever feels like you’re drowning, you’ll tell me so that I can be there to pull you up like you did for me, right?”

“Right.”

#viviannne miedema x reader #vivianne miedema imagines #vivianne miedema imagine #vivianne miedema #arsenal wfc imagine #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc imagines #arsenal wfc #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines #uswnt imagine #uswnt #arsenal x reader #arsenal imagines #arsenal imagine #arsenal

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gargyshmub · 1 year

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DELTARUNE; Gargy's Fairytale Theory

So, lately I've kind of had an itch in the back of my mind about DELTARUNE, more specifically the secret or hidden bosses in the game and a little correlation they all share. I'll try to keep this under 100 pages but i promise nothing (tee hee hee)

If you've played the game to the extent you're looking at a tumblr blog dedicated to it, you're probably familiar with the character's jevil and spamton. These are the two characters coined by the community as "secret bosses", since you have to stray away from the games intended path to find them (in most cases.)

When you defeat spamton in his 'NEO form', a neat little song will play with his dialogue "a real boy!", this is a nod to the fable/fairytale "pinochio" I'm sure everyone's familiar with. It's a story about a doll that comes to life in search of becoming 'a real boy'. This corrilation made me realize there are A LOT of similarity's between pinochio and spamton. The strings, his regular form being a mockup of a doll, even his goal to become "big", its almost like becoming a 'real boy'. He knows he's not 'real', and just like at the end of pinochio, he too becomes renewed (reneo'd).

This made me wonder if the other secret boss, Jevil, represented something other than the Joker card. Then I realized whenever he was hit in his fat empty head it actually sprung out like a jack-in-the-box. I initially discarded this since it wasn't really a fable or fairy-tale, but if you do some digging you'll find it actually is!!!@! back in the 1400's somewhat, the jack in the box was originally named 'The Devil in the Box', essentially it's a story about a man who trapped a devil in a boot in order to save a village in france at the time, kinda like that one story about the court jester who got locked away by his magician friend in order to save their kingdom (haha. hahahahha. thats from deltarune. hahaha.) just to run home my point, jack-in-the-box; Devil in the box. Jack; Devil. What way could you fuse them together? Dack? Jackil? maybe some other 3rd way that has some importance to Yea thats right you know you've always known its Jevil.

Obviously, in deltarune fashion, its easy to overthink most elements in the story. Granted, toby will make an entire 2nd game about a hypothetical character you've never met but no you've only ever POSSIBLY met through a 1/100 chance door where he'll show you his asshole and then disappear into a million pieces, but yea, it's easy to make certain correlations that aren't even really there. In this case however I'd say that there's one more correlation that seals the deal that makes this theory WORTH theorizing.

Yea gaster. even though he's not even technically a character yet, every piece of information regarding him seems to lead people to believe he's not only the narrator at the beginning of the game, but he's also the 'man' behind the tree (since the way you find 'his sprite' in undertale is almost exactly similar ['theres a room in-between, theres a room, in-between']). I'm assuming you know what there is to know about gaster so im not gonna go into it, so onto the correlation.

I've read before someone talking about how gaster represents easter eggs in video games, not only physically (egghead) but metaphorically (the way you find him, his implied involvment with the secret bosses, the fact he gives you an '''''EGG''''' when you DO find him). Well if he is technically involved with the secret bosses, wouldn't that make him a fable too? I'm here to tell you he is. he is HUMPTY DUMPTY from SECOND GRADE FAIRY TALE PLAY.

I've already gone over his physical and metaphorical symbolism relating to eggs, but the story of humpty dumpty is also very, haha, hahahaha, hahahhahahaha

Humpty dumpty sat on a wall (The Core)

Humpty dumpty took a big fall ("Fell into his own creation")

All the kings horses and all the kings men (Who did gaster work for again?)

Couldn't put Humpty together again ("He was shattered across time and space")

What could this mean? for the future it means that if this theory is right, EVERY secret boss we meet is gonna represent not only a lightworld object, but an actual FAIRTY TALE, a FABLE. I mean, how many fables are out there. I know theres one in particular, one that the game is named after, one that has to do with an ANGEL. an ''''ANGEL'''' with ''''TATTERED WINGS''''''.

but then again idk

EDIT: ALSO LITTLE MISS MUFFET THINK ABOUT THAT UNDER-HEADS LITTLE MISS MUFFET SAT ON HER TUFFET

Last edit: also this has no grounds as an actual theory but uhhh that mf that made the Undertale RED boss fight got hired on the team. Huh. I wonder what Red was a reference to. Huh.

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tshortik · 2 months

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My random comic Recs #1

I've been reading more comics lately, so I wanted to share my love for them in the hopes that someone might give this medium a chance!

Note: I am not a fan of superhero comics, because I simply don't like that genre, so don't expect superheroes below. Gonna make these posts every now and then and they will always include 4 recs. 1.) The Many Deaths of Laila Starr

Death got demoted and sent to earth as a mortal! Some boy is going to figure out how to cheat death in the future, and our girl Death really doesn't appreciate that. The entire graphic novel is only 5 issues long, so it's VERY digestible and easy to get through.There is something so light and playful about the art style, and the vibrant colors really sell it.

For people that are completely new to comics as a medium, I imagine that this is actually an A+ book to start with for the reasons I just mentioned. The way paneling and the flow of time is done in here, is a great example as to why comics are so unique as a medium and why they should be looked at as its own art from, separate from movies or books.

2) Mécanique Céleste (Or "Mechanica Calaestium" in the German translation, or "Aster Of Pan" in the English translation)

An absolutely breathtaking French comic. Aster lives in Pan, a post-apocalyptic France where she scavenges for wreckage with her friend Wallis. After their people come under a threat by the Federation of Fortuna, they are given a choice —submit to Fortuna’s rule or beat them in a weird Hunger Games-esque version of Dodge, called “Celestial Mechanics”.

The detailed art pieces in each panel, the careful line work, the lively way the characters move and the stunning watercolors captivated me from the first page. This graphic novel (now 2 volumes) is one of a kind and truly unique!

3) Something Is Killing the Children

Note: Comic contains a lot of gore and violence!

Children are starting to disappear in Archer's Peak. The ones that come back tell impossible stories that no one seems to believe. Only one stranger trusts these tales - a mysterious girl named Erica Slaughter who seems to be able to see these creatures too. And she's here for business.

I loooove Something is Killing the Children. I haven't finished reading the ongoing volumes yet, but I am super fascinated at how well the pacing goes in this story. The rough art style with Erica's freaky large eyes is SO fun, and you start appreciating it even more the longer you read.

4) Mon Ami Pierrot ("Mein Freund Pierrot" in German, "My friend Pierrot" in English)

Another fabulous French comic! Cléa is to marry soon - a young man name of Berthier. Right before the wedding she meets the fascinating magician Pierrot though, who completely changes the course of her life. Entranced by his whimsical nature that makes her feel "free" for the first time in her life, she follows him and leaves her previous life behind. During her stay with Pierrot, questions arise, though. Who is he really? All the while her betrothed sets out to find her again.

The Ghibli influence both art- and storywise is easy to make out, and I personally really enjoyed that. I particularly love the colors and the facial expressions the characters are drawn with. Everything feels very whimsical and playful and I had a good time going through this chonker of a graphic novel!

No spoilers, but I expected toothrottingly-sweet wholesome stuff, and ended up surprised on several occasions. I think the colours and art style really help give those moments wham, because you don't expect it.

#i talk sometimes #comics #graphic novels #comic recommendations #long post #comics are super duper cool and you should try them!!

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carolmunson · 10 months

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eddie munson x fem!reader | steve harrington x fem!reader

COMING SOON TO THEATERS. A FANFICTION ADAPTION OF ACADEMY AWARD WINNING FILM 'TITANIC' WRITTEN BY:

@loveshotzz @newlips and @carolmunson

ORIGINAL SCREEN PLAY + FILM WRITTEN AND DIRECTED BY JAMES CAMERON. ALL OF THOSE ICONIC SCENES AND LINES ARE, OF COURSE, CREDITED TO WHOM CREDIT IS DUE: JAMES CAMERON

PREVIEW:

Wednesday, April 10th, 1912 Southampton, London

The blare of the fog horn is unmissable, rattling the conversations in a small pub off the White Star Dock. Even through the dusty windows she was clear as day, big as anything anyone had ever seen. Large black body met with a red base, multiple decks, and four large smoke stacks. The ship seemed to go on forever, her beauty unmatched to anyone who had seen it – a behemoth on the seas. A glory – a masterpiece.

The doors of the pub fluttered open and closed all morning as it edged closer and closer to noon. Pints poured by the dozens, the hundreds – half the country coming to the piers to see off the Ship of Dreams and its passengers. The bar was alight with chatter, mixing in with the roar of people from outside — hundreds of people halfway to boarding, waving and kissing goodbye. Beer glasses clinked and people cheered while they watched a long line of high end cars gleam in the spring sun as they rolled down the dock. Precious cargo full of Europe and America’s elite.

Reporters and bellhops alike flock to them like flies, pub patrons ogling through the dusty windows while they exit their buggies.

Among the commotion, the endless chatter and screeching of pub seats, sat four men oblivious to the spectacle. They’re sitting around a small table with sweat on their brows as the April sun pours golden over them. Eyes burning over their cards as cigarette smoke wafts over their heads — the players lost in the fog during an intense round of poker.

The pot was mostly meager — a few pounds and swaths of change, a pocket watch, a penknife. But in the center was the crown jewel, a prize that would change the winner’s life forever. Two pieces of pressed parchment reading:

The men leer over their hands, not a friendly face between them — the tickets were not the dealer’s, but two of the players who had bet the wrong guys. Guys who had been beyond the break and back again, meeting in Morocco, then Paris, and traveling together back to London — guys who had never lost a game of poker.

Eddie places his bet, pulling a small silver ring off of his right ring finger and tossing it in the center.

“Are you kidding?” Jeff asks from his left, “That’s everything we have.”

Eddie grins at him, taking a drag of his cigarette. The sun dances in his big brown eyes like he knows something the rest of them don’t, “When you got nothin’, you got nothin’ to lose.”

The two other players speak to each other heatedly in Swedish after one of them hits for a new card. The outburst makes it clear that things aren’t looking good for the Swedes — it makes Eddie’s heart leap. Maybe this is it, maybe he’s finally gonna get back to the states. “Sven?” he asks the man next to him. “Hit,” he replies, putting down a card and taking another. Eddie follows suit, furrowing his brow while his bangs meet his eyelashes. Sweat collects on the nape of his neck where his dark curls are twisted up in a graphite drawing pencil – a trick he picked up from women he met in France. He puffs the smoke from his mouth, eyes meeting the Swede across from him who looks like he couldn’t be having a worse day.

“Alright,” he says, putting his cigarette down on the ashtray between then, “Moment of truth. Somebody’s life’s about to change.”

He leans back in his chair and looks at his friend, sweat beading at the edge of his hairline and glinting off of his deep skin, “Jefferey?”

Jeff throws his cards down with a roll of his eyes. “Nothing,” Eddie nods.

“Nothing,” Jeff says curtly through a grit in his teeth. His heart pounds in his chest while he looks at the last of their money on the table – they can’t afford to lose.

“Olaf?” Eddie asks, the Swede throws down his cards in a huff, “Nothin’.”

“Sven?”

Sven puts down his cards and Eddie frowns, “Oh…two pair.”

His shoulders droop while he looks at his own cards, eyes lingering on the silver ring in the middle of the table, “I’m sorry, Jeff.”

“What do you mean ‘sorry’?” You idiot! You bet all of our bloody money! You imbecile, you–”

“I’m sorry, you’re not going to be able to visit your cousins in Paris again for a long time,” Eddie says with a serious edge. Jeff quirks his brow, triggering Eddie’s winning smile behind plush pink lips.

“‘Cause we’re goin’ to America!” he exclaims, slamming his cards down on the table, “FULL HOUSE, BOYS!”

Jeff leaps from his chair in the back of the pub, reaching for the tickets on the on the table, “WE’RE GOIN’ TO BACK TO AMERICA!”

“I’m goin’ home!” Ed exclaims while the boys hug tightly. The pub cheers for them, pints still flowing — men and women with red cheeks having no idea what they’re cheering for until a fight breaks out between the Swedes.

Eddie laughs, hoisting his bag up over his shoulder and Jeff does the same — their white shirts dirtied with the stains of the day before.

“I can’t believe it,” Jeff says, teeth shining in a grin across his face, “Goin’ back to America!”

“Titanic’s going back to America, boys,” the barkeep says, pointing at the clock, “In five minutes!”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #titanic au #stranger things au #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie x reader #steve x reader

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greynatomy · 6 months

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it’s you

kyra cooney-cross x reader

request from wattpad

been wanting to write a fic for kcc and it finally happened

———

After winning their first World Cup match, the Matildas do a lap to show their appreciation for all the fans that came out to watch them play. Kyra Cooney-Cross signs a couple posters and jerseys, thanking all she comes across.

Looking out to the crowd, she locks eyes with the most beautiful pair of eyes she’s ever seen. Stuck frozen in her place on the field, she can’t seem to look away. Charli, who decides to jump on her back, makes her look away for just a second to steady her feet again, looks back out to the crowd. Unfortunately for her, those pair of eyes that had her enchanted were no longer there.

On the coach ride back to the hotel, Kyra could not get those eyes out of her head. She wished she could’ve seen who those eyes belonged to. Charli could tell something was bothering her friend, wanting to help Kyra out.

During the quarterfinals against France, Kyra constantly looks to the crowd hoping to spot some familiarity, but having no luck. Not spotting those same eyes during the match didn’t mean Kyra stopped checking, barely paying attention to the game.

The match ended with penalties, Australia winning 7-6, making them move onto the next round.

Lookout out to the crowd, there you were again, Kyra locking eyes with you a second time. She moves her eyes across your face, trying to memorize all of your features, you plump lips to your button nose. You were beautiful. Walking towards where you stood in the stands, Katrina jumps around her excitedly, making Kyra celebrate with Mini.

After the small burst of excitement from both Matildas, she looks back up to the stands, but you were gone. Kyra hoping you would be at the next match.

The semifinals against England ended with the Australians broken-hearted. No one was celebrating, but still made the rounds to thank all of their supporters.

Australia then lost third place to Sweden, putting them down at fourth place with no medal. They were bummed, but they felt accomplished with putting women’s football out there. So, they celebrated with each other, with their fans, with their family.

Even through all the celebrations, Kyra was a bit down, not having seen you anymore the last two of her matches. She didn’t know if she’d ever see you again, kicking herself for not getting to you sooner.

A month later, Kyra moves to the North of London, having been signed by Arsenal. She was excited, especially getting to be on the team with her fellow Aussies.

The first day of training for the new season, she’d been welcomed to the team with open arms. Introducing and being introduced to all the players on the team was all smiles, Caitlin and Steph then walked her to the staff who’d she’d see basically everyday.

Walking Kyra over to where a couple cameras and lenses are splayed out, Steph gestures to a figure sitting on the bench occupied by her laptop.

“And this is our team’s main photographer. The best in the business.

Locking eyes with the photographer, Kyra freezes in her spot. It was you, the girl from the crowd. The girl who she couldn’t stop thinking about the first time she’d seen you. She couldn’t believe it. She finally found you.

“It’s you.” Kyra said in a soft tone, confusing her fellow Aussies.

“Hi.” You give her a shy smile.

Caitlin and Steph noticing the tension between the two of you, leaves you both be.

“I haven’t been able to get you out of my head ever since I saw you back home. Well, my home. Unless you’re also Australian, then it’s your home too.”

Your laugh breaks Kyra out of her rambling.

“I am Australian. Moved here a couple of years ago.”

“Uh, well, I’m Kyra.”

“Y/N. Pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is definitely all mine.”

She shakes your hand noticing you to be shorter than her.

The next few days, you and Kyra often speak, her always finding a way by your side, her reasoning being that she finally found you and wanted to make sure you wouldn’t disappear again. You were fine with it because of all the pictures you get to take of her, also not minding all the time you had spent with her.

About two weeks after officially meeting, Kyra decided to ask you out on a date. You, of course, said yes. So, here you are, putting your finishing touches on, when you hear the sound of your doorbell go off.

“Be there in a second.” Putting your heels on, you open the door to be met by Kyra.

“Wow. You look beautiful.” She said in a breathy tone.

“Thank you.” You give her a shy smile, cheeks heating up. “You look beautiful as well.”

“Um, these are for you.” She holds out a bouquet of flowers. You take them, quickly putting them in a vase. “Ready to go?”

Kyra was the perfect gentlewoman. She opened the passenger door open for you getting in and out of the car. Pulling your seat out for you at the table.

Conversation flowed easily between the two of you at dinner. She told you about her family, her football career and she found out about how you became a sports photographer. You both also found out you were born just a couple of weeks after her, making her older than you.

Dinner was lovely. You insisted to pay half of the bill, which she declined saying that you could get next time. You teased her a bit about there being a next time making her flustered. Not wanting the night to end just yet, you two are taking a stroll around the city.

Seeing you shiver from the cold, she took her blazer off and draped it over your shoulders. Gaining a bit more confidence, she wrapped an arm around your waist, you leaning onto her.

On the drive home, she kept her hand on the gear stick, which you grabbed and intertwined seething your hands on your lap. Parking the car at your apartment building, she walks you to your front door, hands still linked together.

“Thank you for taking me out on a date.” You started.

“Thank you for agreeing to let me take you out. I’d also like do go on more in the future.”

“I’d also like that.”

“Okay. Well, goodnight Kyra.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

She waits for you to close your front door to start walking back to her car, kicking herself for not getting a kiss. So she walks back to your door, giving it a knock, the door opening instantly.

“I forgot to give you your jacket ba—”

You’re cut off when you feel a pair of lips on yours, hands cupped on both your cheeks. After your initial shock, you deepen the kiss, wrapping your arms over her shoulders, her hands moving down your waist. Kyra pulls away first.

“I couldn’t leave without a kiss.”

“I’m glad you came back.”

You pull her back for a second kiss.

“Would you like to come in?” You ask, resting your forehead on hers.

“I’d love to.”

#woso x reader #greynatomy #woso #woso imagines #woso imagine #kyra cooney cross #kcc #kcc x reader #kyra cooney cross x reader

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secretagentspydetectiveninja · 2 months

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The new trilogy means we finally got official French translations of the fifth and sixth games (the fourth already had one) so I did my thing and played through them, since they're always a lot of fun. Here are some things about French Dual Destinies I thought you might like to know:

Yes, it's set in France as per usual. They are all French people who live in Paris. And yes, that means that in this universe there is a Japanese village themed around yokai within throwing distance of Paris.

Athena lived in America in this version, and therefore peppers her speech with English and Spanish. My favourite unhinged franglais line was "let's get au travail" which I will be using from now on because it's hilarious

Many characters got French pun names again. Simon's name is "Jack Lamenoire" -- Jack, because the French version of Simon Says uses the name Jack/Jacques, and "lame noire" means "black blade". (Also he's not British or anything in this version, he just speaks in somewhat old-timey French.)

He has multiple nicknames for the judge that are all slight variations of "Your Baldness". He doesn't do that "-dono" suffix thing but he does refer to Phoenix in particular as "Maître Wright".

...I don't like pointing out things I didn't like buuuuuut his voice is a huge downgrade. Actually, to be honest, I don't like the new French voices that much in general... idk man they just don't sound very enthusiastic...

Filch's name is "Arsène Loupet", reference to the famous fictional thief Arsène Lupin, which I thought was pretty cool! (Herlock Sholmes was also a reference to that series too btw!)

Athena and Apollo use informal pronouns for each other pretty much from the get-go, but there have been some changes from the previous games: Phoenix now uses the informal "tu" for Apollo (and Athena) whereas in the prev game he didn't, Pearl now uses "tu" for Phoenix as well, and Klavier uses "tu" for Apollo now (but Apollo still calls him the formal "vous" lmao)

SPEAKING OF... SPEAKING OF. The French localisation continues to utterly baffle me when it comes to Klavier (or Konrad as he's called in French). No listen, liSTEN. In the previous game he was specifically stated to be English and did his law exams in England and dropped English words into his speech (and this is still the case in the trilogy version, I checked). But now?? They seem to have gone back on it and in this game he says he's German again, like the in English translation??? But he's still dropping English words into his speech randomly????? Look I already went through the five stages of grief when I found out they'd english-ified him, I made my peace with it, and NOW they change it???????

God and his new French voice sucks too (his old one was actually good)... what have they done to you my poor boy, was making you English not bad enough T_T Oh and he and Athena didn't even get their little language club moment where they both start speaking in the same foreign language?? Like, that just straight-up didn't happen here and I had been waiting for it aauuugh it's cool it's fine it's cool i'm okay i'm--

True to Dual Destinies fashion, there are still typos. In an emotional moment, Apollo took a leave of asbence from the office. Not absence. Asbence.

I can't put my finger on it but Robin's coming out scene felt more... respectful in French? The English translation was done over a decade ago so it feels somewhat dated, maybe that's why... I obviously don't know if she was purposely written to be a trans girl but she very much comes across that way, and it feels like the French translators were aware of that interpretation and took it into account, idk maybe it's just me

THEY GOT RID OF MY FAVOURITE LINE. THE FORESHADOWEY ONE WHERE SIMON TELLS ATHENA THAT THE PERSON SHE WANTS TO SAVE MORE THAN ANYONE ELSE IN THE WORLD DOESN'T DESIRE HER DEFENCE, AND HE'S CLEARLY TALKING ABOUT HIMSELF. THE FRENCH MADE HIM SAY SOMETHING ELSE WAY LESS COOL. I don't wanna be like "FRENCH TURNABOUT ACADEMY IS DEAD TO ME" because most of it was awesome, but man these occasional things made me wanna flip tables

Cosmic Turnabout and Turnabout for Tomorrow were great in French though, so there's that. Clay's French name is "Pierre" which worked surprisingly well because it means stone or rock, and the moon rock was also called that, so like, the phantom had to kill Pierre in order to get the pierre... idk it worked and it was cool

Simon and Athena switch to using informal pronouns for each other very near the end of the game, in the scene where they work together to psychologically mess with the phantom. It's around the time when they start openly calling each other by first name since everyone knows now that they're old friends.

Phoenix and Edgeworth also occasionally refer to each other by first name in this game, which threw me off completely. (Reminder that Edgeworth's French name is "Benjamin Hunter". Just picture Phoenix standing in front of Edgeworth and calling him BENJAMIN. Now you understand how absolutely bizarre it felt.)

Here's the entirety of The Dissin' of Phoenix Wright in French

#ace attorney #dual destinies #aa5 spoilers #random stuff #there's actually a fan translation of this game too but last i checked it wasn't publicly available yet #i think i'd still like to play it though. i know they worked super hard on it #i'll make a post about the next game as well when i can be bothered bc i have stuff to say about that too

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kiryoutann · 1 year

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𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐎 𝐖𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄? ｡ﾟ: ∘◦☾ [KYLIAN MBAPPÉ X FEM! READER]

Warning(s): -

Genre: romance, angst, lawyer! reader.

Word count: 6,1k. Please read it in dark mode.

Blurb:

Just as you intend to move on with life and accept that you have been left behind along with his 'old life', your boss surprises the entire office with tickets to a PSG game, which then brings you back to face your one-sided love, Kylian Mbappé.

Being one of the people from his 'old life' and witnessing opportunities one by one present themselves to bring better things to him, you should be feeling proud.

To watch your best friend go from playing on a small pitch to a bigger one somewhere in a big city, to follow his career development from his previous club until he signed for Paris Saint-Germain, hearing the news that he will be playing for France in the world cup. You remember how wide Kylian's smile was when he told you after suddenly barging into your apartment drenched from the rain. You're happy for him, though you grumble about him dirtying your floor after giving him a hug.

You're proud of him, really. In fact, you could argue that you are among the happiest people because of everything he has achieved throughout his career. However, you should know better that 'opportunity' both opens and closes doors for someone.

While his life is changing into a newer one, the old one is fading behind him. You were unfortunate to be the one whose door was shut, though of course Kylian didn't do it on purpose. It is expected; he will have new prospects, careers, accomplishments, and friends—which means like it or not, some old people have to accept being left behind to make room for new faces.

It started with a more hectic training schedule to the point where he was no longer able to sneak in time to meet you for a game console. Then, it continues with short messages that he replies late or not at all until you send a new one.

It hurts. Of course it hurts, especially when you realize that you don't just miss him as a friend—that you are already in love with him and for sure, he doesn't see you as much more than that. Hell, he hasn't even seen you lately. Every effort you put into getting rid of him is like what he did to you (again, not on purpose, or maybe that's just what you're telling yourself).

However, no matter how much you try to immerse yourself in your studies, he can't seem to leave you alone; always on television or a friend talking to you about how Mbappé once again scored for Paris Saint-Germain in last night's game.

The perks of loving someone who is now famous.

Even so, you still try.

Three months after your graduation, you land a pretty good job. Not only that, the salary is good enough for you to move to a better apartment, with no more traffic jams or heating problems in winter.

One that is too new for you to jog through your memories with Kylian in every corner.

But, of course the heavens always have a way of ruining that.

Passing through the revolving door of your workplace building, you should have simply said "hello" and continued on your way when you find your boss and almost all of your coworkers in your department filling the hallways. They were talking with big smiles on their faces, neither of them looking glum or grumbling about Monday as usual.

That's weird.

One of your coworkers finds you and immediately says, “Oh! Oh! Tell her! (Y/N)! Come here!” She gestured for you to join in.

"What's going on?" You ask curiously.

Your co-workers hush in unison, turning to your boss as if giving him the chance to be the one to break the news for you. From the enthusiasm that fills the atmosphere, you expect that anything is a good thing. A raise, perhaps?

The second he opened his mouth and said it, you regret that you concluded too early.

"We're going to watch today's match!" He said, followed by another cheer.

"Match?" You furrow your brows, glancing at one of your closest co-workers to ask for at least a hint. "What match?"

Your boss rolls his eyes. “Have you been living under a rock all this time? Football match of course!”

Your throat tightens at once. Anxiety hits you like a tsunami, sending a sinking sensation in your stomach. You don't have to ask another question to know which football club match he's referring to, your boss has been pretty vocal about how much he is a PSG fan, particularly Mbappé.

Kylian Mbappé.

Fuck, heaven must really hate you.

You jump when he clasps his hands together in pride. "I've spent my money on the tickets, so everyone's going." Your boss presses on as if he's already guessed your plan to make excuses to stay out.

You have to keep trying.

“It appears that I'll have to pass, with a heavy heart of course,” You started, already earning a glare from him. "I have to prepare materials for tomorrow's trial." Way to go, (Y/N), using your client as an alibi.

"Do you mean Mr. Allaire's trial?" Lea, your closest coworker, asks. You quickly nodded to avoid suspicion. "Didn't you prepare the material last Friday?"

"Yes, but, I think—"

“Mr. Allaire also said that that the trial had been postponed until the day after tomorrow."

Great.

Slowly, you glance at your boss, finding him squinting as he points at you in warning. He was about to turn around and order the others to get back to work, not before he repeated his words about no one not going for tonight's game.

On your way to your desk, you take a few deep breaths to calm yourself. Relax, (Y/N), you think. He couldn't possibly spot you in a crowd of people. Besides, considering how your friendship ended, if somehow Kylian recognizes you, the nicest thing he might do is just give you a smile.

You are a leftover from his old life, after all.

The erratic air of Paris made you tighten your coat around your body while walking towards Lea's car. You pull on the car door handle, greeted by your co-workers who look even more enthusiastic than they did this morning, contrasting the nervousness you try to cover up all the way to the Parc des Princes.

Arriving at the place, your friends got out of the car in a hurry. Lea has already been jumping around saying she hopes to meet Neymar for a photo. One of your Spanish friends boasted Sergio Ramos on his way to the building. You try to smile at their comments, acting like you haven't just noticed the photo of a certain someone displayed above the words “bienvenue” at the entryway.

A smile engraved without you knowing it. He’s a natural.

You go into the stands area and sit down with your colleagues. Ahead is the green pitch, where the players are still warming up by jogging around and kicking the ball into the air.

Then, your eyes found him.

It wasn't difficult because Kylian stood out from the others. Was it because of the way his legs moved? The way he walks and picks up the ball? He spoke to one of his friends; and when he laughs at whatever's being said, you swear your heart missed a beat. After all these years and him still having that effect on you.

Look the other way, you think to yourself.

Even if it's hard, your head is turned the other way out of fear that he'll notice your gaze. You choose to feign awe at the colors of the stadium you used to frequent. The words “ici ç'est Paris” are put to your lips to mutter.

You turned your head towards the field when you heard the small screams of your friends, thinking something was going on there. But before you could figure out what was going on, you felt pain. The dirty white color of the ball that is now at your feet after hitting your face is still visible through your teary eyes.

“Mon dieu!”

Lea rushed to your side in worry. You tried to ignore how much your nose was hurting and cast a quick glance over the field in search of the idiot who had the audacity to kick it into the spectators. However, when you spotted that running figure, you never realized how badly you wanted disappearing power

“Êtes-vous—are you okay?!”

Kylian's voice switches from French to English, probably thinking you're another foreign fan coming to see his game. There's something in what he says that makes your eyes automatically turn toward him even though your brain is screaming no.

At that moment, he saw you too. And you don't know which one you want, for him to recognize you or forget you. After all, you could also say the situation wasn't good.

Your mind is overflowing with big questions. You hold your still-throbbing nose while looking at his face, mainly his eyes, for clues that he knows who you are. The best scenario is for him to treat you no different from the others, apologize, and go right back to doing his preparations. But, you also can't deny that you’re desperate for him to say your name in an intonation that you're familiar with the most.

Kylian's jaw dropped. Unblinking eyes.

Your heart again missed a beat. The noise of your friends enthusiastically pulling out their phones to take a picture of him is blurred into the background noise.

He shouldn't recognize you. You are a leftover from his old life, after all.

Something is tickling from inside your nose. You withdraw your hand when you feel a warm trickle hit your skin, only to find it coming back red. Lea—the only one who wasn't mesmerized by the presence of the famous football star—gasp loud enough to gather everyone's attention, including Kylian.

Not only did you get hit by the ball, you also got a nosebleed in front of him. Just perfect. You should have taken the incident in which you accidently broke your breakfast plate this morning as a bad omen and missed work.

“S-sorry.” You scrambled to reach your bag to take a tissue.

Kylian opened his mouth, "Shit, I'll call the medics." He rushed to the other side of the field.

Before you could say it wasn't needed, the medics had already arrived after being told by Kylian. You said you were okay, that it was just a normal nosebleed, but one of the guys said a check wouldn't hurt. Next, you descend from the stands, leading to access to the medical room which you reach after walking through the player tunnel.

You want to say: “See? I'm fine." to the man who forces you into the medical room when the examining doctor concludes that there is nothing to worry about and the bleeding will stop soon; but, you endured it because you wanted to get out of there quickly. To be in a place that should only be accessible to important people like organizers and players makes you nervous. To know that Kylian was still waiting outside the room even though the minutes ticked back before the match started made you want to bury yourself.

With tissue stuffed in your bleeding nostrils, you hope you don't look stupid in front of him. People reunite with their teenage sweethearts through reunions, you with a ball going straight to your face.

"Does it hurt?"

That question brought you back to reality, realizing that it had just left Kylian's pink lips. Shit, did you just check him out again to notice that?

You give a shake of the head before responding, "Not really."

Kylian broke out a smile, not realizing how you were trying to hold back the warmth from crawling towards your chest. He still has that twinkle in his eye that you love. Dimples appeared in his cheeks as he chuckled. The last thing you want is for anything to make your unrequited love for him worse, but how is that possible when he shows up like this and makes you unable to avoid him?

“Sorry.”

When he said it, you furrowed your brows. What is he sorry for? For stop contacting you? For forgetting you just like that? For everything left unsaid between you?

"For what?" you ask.

Kylian laughed again, now the warmth that you've been holding back radiates like fire in a bonfire. He poked his own nose, "Your nose."

"Oh, it's nothing." You're not lying, this nosebleed is nothing compared to his presence.

After your answer, Kylian made no attempt to continue the conversation. As a result, you both fall into silence that you can't determine whether this is a comfortable one or one that makes your stomach turn in anxiety. His brown eyes scan you. You grow self-conscious under his gaze. Does he find his longing for you like you do for him or are you just another eyesore?

His lips formed a thin smile. "It's good to—"

“Kylian!”

The loud voice of the man walking quickly towards the two of you echoed down the hall. You stand stiff like a thief caught red-handed. The older man didn't pay you the slightest bit of attention, though; completely giving his sharp gaze to the footballer.

"The match is about to start! Let's move!"

Kylian turned to you. "Sorry." He apologized with an awkward smile. This time, as he being pulled away, you don't question it.

Now that he's gone, you're alone in the hallway. Kylian's absence gives you the opportunity to notice the posters plastered on the wall, most of them are sponsors and photos of PSG players, Kylian is of course included. Yet, they are no longer comparable now that you have seen the real him.

You step back to your friends. The rest of the evening was filled with your friends cheering every time PSG scored. Meanwhile, you are trying to continuously withstand various 'what if' scenarios by making yourself aware of how much it is a difference where you and Kylian stand.

Forty minutes after leaving the stadium, your co-workers decide to go to a fast food restaurant before heading home. Just as you were about to dig into the burger between your fingers, your phone vibrated with a notification.

k.mbappe: You think we can catch up?

“You think we can catch up?”

That simple sentence leads you to fill in the details that Kylian has missed in your life, he did the same with his even though you already know most of it from the tabloids and news. Kylian Mbappé, never escaped the eyes of journalists. Nonetheless, it's enough to at least rebuild from the remains of your old relationship, and you can't help but say that you're happy about that.

Now that it's lunchtime, you're still on your phone replying to Kylian. Two of your co-workers are sitting across from you, watching how your lips curve into a smile and it's not because your favorite food is in front of you.

"Someone got a boyfriend." One of them teases.

You shook your head, switching off the phone, and slipping it into your jeans pocket. “Not a boyfriend.” You picked up the fork to start digging into your food, yet that smile seemed to stay on your face permanently.

Short messages sent between work, lunch, and practice turned into short meetings—which then became a routine whenever you and Kylian found free time. Most of it falls on weekends. He'll come to your place or you to his, with game consoles and food on the table.

It's an old routine that you're thankful you can get back into. And for a second, you think the two of you could be the same as before—before the changes, the distance, the lost friendships; before everything that filled the void between you and Kylian. Unknowingly, you have hoped for a semblance of the past. Too naïve to think that this time, you guys would work things out and never be separated again.

That's the thing about the universe, it punishes anyone who complacent by disappointing them in the most bitter way.

It happened at a big party for one of Kylian's football star friends, one you never thought you'd be invited to if it weren't for your football star friend. The second you step into the club they've rented for the night, you can tell this is going to be the most extravagant party you've ever attended in your life. Celebrities and athletes in almost every corner of the room. Not to mention the beautiful long-legged models walking around with a glass (or bottle) of alcohol in hand.

Why are you here, again?

“(Y/N)!” Amidst the loud club music, you can still catch Kylian's voice as he walks towards you.

Like magic, your smile is engraved fast. "Hey."

You held your breath as you felt his eyes scan you from top to bottom. An expression to be sought—anything to imply that the ridiculously overpriced designer dress you purchased wasn't entirely horrible.

(You think it's just because you need someone's second opinion that you haven't just wasted big money for nothing.)

But, Kylian standing still silently made you uneasy. His lips loosened as his eyes widened. You're not even sure he's breathing. Is it amazement? Or was it shock because for some reason, that dress didn't fit on you the way it would on the models filling this room?

Shut it, (Y/N), you're trying to remember one Tiktok video that says that a lack of confidence will make anyone lose their shine.

"You.." Kylian swallowed hard. "You look beautiful."

You look beautiful.

You hope that your heated cheeks won't add more red to the blush you applied earlier.

You smiled at him, "Thank you."

Kylian stretched out his hand like a good gentleman he is. "Come on, I want to introduce you to my friends." He says.

The second you put your hands on his and he held you while separating the hordes of high class people, you could feel burning gazes from all sides of the room. You're trying to be blind to it. But, that doesn't shut your mind from the realization that maybe a lot of people feel you shouldn't be here.

In the back of your mind, a voice says: you're just a leftover of his old life, you should stay that way.

Though it was quickly muffled when the cheers of Kylian's friends were heard the second you entered the VIP room. You sweep your eyes across the familiar faces, finding more models sitting at the table. The smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke is more pungent than before, but you try not to mind that while Kylian introduces you to everyone.

“Everyone, this is (Y/N). She’s a friend.”

Kylian said, followed by the stares his friends turned towards you. Some mutter "a friend?" under their breath.

A friend.

Kylian continued by introducing his friends to you one by one. You flash them a smile, trying to remember their names as they shift to give you a seat with the ladies (who don't seem to want anything to do with you). Neymar is the one that seems genuinely interested in talking to you though, bringing up topics that you find interesting enough for you to relax a bit in the room with invisible pressure.

After your second glass, you excuse yourself to go to the toilet. Your high heels make noise as you walk down the quieter hallway. After entering one of the stalls and doing your thing, you come out to wash your hands and check if your makeup is still good.

“Kylian’s new girl?”

Your eyes drift from the reflection in the mirror to the blonde woman who just entered. She wore a gold dress with a low cut that showed her cleavage. The red lipstick doesn't go unnoticed by you. She walks toward you like it's a runway—full hip twist and confidence.

The beauty reached out for a handshake. “Gisele.” She said ter name.

Although hesitant, you give her a smile and take her hand. “(Y/N).” You tell her.

Gisele scans you up and down, and when she comes back to meet your eyes you swear you heard her click her tongue. "I've been eyeing you since earlier. You're so beautiful. Where did you get this dress?” she asked.

You're not sure if she's being genuinely nice or if she's just another Regina George. But, nice girls don't click their tongues as if the thing they want most is for you to disappear. You replied, "It's from Dior," and she thanked you, prompting you to resume applying your lipstick. Gisele is standing right next to you and does the same thing by pulling her red lipstick from her makeup bag.

"I can't believe he moved on so fast."

Gisele opened her mouth again. At first you weren't sure she was talking to you until you turned around and didn't find her on the phone. You let out an awkward chuckle, furrowing your brows then.

“Pardon?”

Her red lips curved into a smile. "Kylian, I mean." She drags the tip of her lipstick, red dominates. "We dated. Broke up two weeks ago."

Two weeks ago. You've been talking to Kylian for over three months now. Although you believe it all counts as platonic on his side, having her tell you this makes you grow less comfortable.

"Oh." Is all you can say.

"Yeah, and now he's taking you to the party, that's a bold move, don't you think?"

Clearly, she was taking it the wrong way. "Oh, we're just friends—" You were about to say but, Gisele interrupted again.

“But, whatever,” She rolled her eyes. "Sometimes he doesn't know what's best for him, always settling for some cheap slut for a rebound."

It's miraculous how you don't gasp from her sudden aggressiveness.

Cheap? Slut? Rebound?

Sure, you have days where it's hard to deal with your self-esteem. But it's clear that you're aware that those three words in no way describe you. Gisele shoved her lipstick back into her makeup pouch again, puckered up her lips to make sure they were perfect before turning to you with her triumphant expression.

Oh, she's definitely a Regina George but worse. What kind of person comes to the toilet just to apply lipstick while she insults others unprovoked?

Gisele approached you. “So, I suggest you leave him, sweetie. You deserve better.” She spoke in a quiet voice, but she made sure you could easily hear her.

The three things she said didn't get to you, but they gave you a fresh insight. You're not even a rebound, you don't even know if Kylian sees you as something more than a friend. For you to deal with his ex like this, isn't that unfair to you? It's pretty funny for people to think you guys are 'something' when the facts say otherwise. Just where are you two standing?

That's the problem with not drawing boundaries. You never know what you can and can't do. You never know what you can and can't ask from him. You never know what you can and can't tell him.

Even so, you can't let Gisele see past you. Your feet take a step back as you reach into your small bag. You lifted the mint candy in your hand high in front of the blonde's face before you put it in her palm.

"Please, eat one. Your breath stinks."

It left your lips casually, showing shock and embarrassment on her face. You don't spend more time there and walk out.

You think you'll feel better if you see Kylian. You think you can still hold your feelings for him and remain friends without parting ways again. You thought like that until you walked back into the VIP room and found him sitting with one of the models on his lap. Is that something they usually do at every party? Because his friends didn't react to it and continued with their karaoke, and Kylian has the audacity to greet you with a smile on his face.

If what Gisele just said didn't hurt you, this one will for sure.

Kylian was a star, and the black-haired girl was beautiful enough to make her one too. They are a perfect match. And if one day they find a moment where they realize how perfect they are for each other, you will lose him again.

But then again, he wasn't yours to lose to begin with.

Jealousy isn't usually your friend, but this time it's been keeping you company as you flash everyone a smile and say you're going home. Your tongue tastes bitter to utter two or three sentences of pleasantries. Kylian gently pushed the woman off his thigh to follow you who had reached the door.

“(Y/N)!”

So, this is your problem. You are standing on unsteady surface—the ruins of your previous friendship with him, hoping for the same lovely memories. Yet now that everything has changed, even the most resilient rubble will never compare to a brand-new structure.

To hope to continue a relationship with blurry boundaries with someone you love, that's just a big lie. The only one you are deceiving is yourself.

You built all of that on shaky ground. Now, watch it get destroyed.

Kylian watched you turn around. He furrowed his brows sensing something was wrong with you, but the only thing he found was your faint smile.

"Sorry," you apologize. “There is a problem with one of my clients.”

The frown on his forehead deepened upon hearing that. "But it's already outside business hours. And it's weekend." He replied to you, making you realize how stupid your alibi is.

"I know, I guess my work is unpredictable." You slip in a joke at the end hoping it will melt the pressure off the conversation.

“At least let me take you home.”

You were silent for a moment. "You're drunk, and you can't even drive." Your answer made him sigh loudly.

"We can always take a taxi home together."

In contrast to the jumble of emotions in your chest, your lips let out a laugh. "That's ridiculous, Kylian." You looked behind him where the room was. "You better go back to your friends." You debated being petty and mentioning the name of the girl sitting on his lap, but you didn't.

Despite everything you've said, he's still standing there with those brown eyes that you love. It was always hard to walk away from him, but with strength out of nowhere, you promised him a quick text when you got home and said goodbye turning your heels on for the exit.

It's surprising you didn't cry when you got to your room. Did you perhaps deep down have expected this?

Oh, that short message you promised Kylian, you sent.

But, that's the last one before you stop replying to anything from him.

The last three weeks have been terrible.

In your attempt to cut ties with Kylian, you keep ignoring your phone every time it rings and showing his contact name. You spend a lot of time taking overtime at the office because you know he will try to visit your house after getting absolutely no reply from all his missed calls and unanswered texts. Lea is the only person who knows about this situation, making her house your 'safe place' whenever you’re avoiding being at home.

Today will be the day that all of that ends, because as you heard from your boss, Kylian will be flying to Qatar—this time with his French national team for the world cup.

And here you are, with the TV on showing a dramatic reality show that you're forced to watch because nothing else is better than this. You made a mental note to write a bad review on your private Twitter account. You threw another Cheetos into your mouth, your teeth making sounds as you munched it.

The sound of the doorbell stops you from eating another one. You glance at your door skeptically, you don't remember ordering food or inviting anyone here. The bell rings again and you don't have much choice to wash your hands and peek through the peephole.

Your heart almost dropped to your stomach (or maybe it did) when you found a familiar man waiting at the door. Even though you know you wouldn't be ready for whatever he has to say to you, you also don't have it in you to let him stand there. So, your door swings open, leaving nothing to separate you and Kylian.

"Kylian." Is the first thing you say. "Why are you—aren't you supposed to be—"

"At the airport?" Kylian finished for you before pulling out a small scoff. "I know."

Your brow furrowed from his answer. "You know?"

Kylian nodded, confirming you heard right. "I know." He said, taking a new breath. “I just.. want to see you. And I know this is going to sound weird but, I know I'll regret it if I don't see you before I go."

Now you look at him as if he has grown a new head. His words are wrapped in a sweet voice, making your stomach fill with butterflies even though unsure the reaction is appropriate. It could be that he said it out of confusion, out of curiosity because you had abruptly avoided him as if he were contagious.

Whereas in reality the problem is in you and your heart. You always know you have.. poor coping mechanisms.

"You’ve been avoiding me." Kylian started and you want the ground to swallow you right then and there. “Why? Was it something I did? Tell me. Cause I remember you and I being fine that night."

Guilt finds a way to creep up on you. This is the result of how you 'handle' each of your problems—more misunderstandings. But, what are you supposed to say? That you can't deal with the heartache every time a girl comes up to you saying they once had a relationship with him and labels you as his "rebound" when the most you can ever go for is being his friend? Or that seeing a woman touch him in a way you can't burn you because you know you don't have the right to even talk to him about that?

Kylian wasn’t yours to lose. It was naïve enough how you used to believe you could still be friends with him despite your strong feelings for him—and now, that naivety has to go. You have to open your eyes wide.

If you tell the truth, will he give you time to clean up your mess?

“It's not like that,” You finally answered. "The problem is me, okay?"

Kylian raised one eyebrow, silently demanding an explanation. You took a deep breath before opening your mouth again.

"I don't want to get in between you and your ex, or anyone else." You saw him stare at you as if you were speaking in another language he didn't understand. "Well I know you never thought of me that way but girls like you okay? And I don't want them to think we're a thing and end up blocking you from finding someone—”

"My ex?"

You pause. “Gisele.” You gave him the name.

The wrinkles on his forehead deepened as he furrowed his brows in deep thought. How many Gisele has he dated for him to take that long to remember her? You waited for Kylian to say something.

“Wait, Gisele? She’s not my ex."

Now you are confused. "She’s not?"

“No,” Kylian sighed. “She’s my friend’s ex. We talked for a while and she thought I was making move on her. I told her no but, I guess she still goes around saying that we were together."

"Oh." You answered dumbfoundedly.

A laugh escaped his lips. "You avoided me just because of that? You know—"

"Not just because of that."

What was in the soda you drank earlier? It was probably some kind of liquid courage that made you dare to say this. Now that he had heard it, there was no turning back. You bite your lip. In your heart you hope that you can bring the complexity of this heart to an end, you hope that he can leave you alone for you to forget him. Because for you to hope for him and him not feeling the same way is unfair, right?

"It's never just because of that." Your voice starts to shake.

Kylian was never at a loss for words, he always had something to say at any time—especially at the wrong moment. But, why was he silent now even better than a statue? He stares at you, doing nothing to lessen the nervousness that's already at the tip of your throat.

It's now or never.

“I’m in love with you, Kylian.”

Your courage wavered, pulled away as your eyes broke eye contact with his. The last thing you want to be is in front of him, with all the shame and longing for not being able to have him. He is not yours, will never be yours.

Is this a result of your escalating emotions, or are you just a crybaby? Your voice trembled as your eyes welled up with tears. "I'm so fucking in love with you, and I know we can never be together. So that's why I'm avoiding you—because I'm trying to forget the stupid feelings I have for you.” You continue. Will he think you're weak if you tremble when you speak?

Out of desperation, you ask: "Where do we draw the line?"

You expect him to answer by telling you that he will give you time. You expect him to understand why you did it or even intend to start avoiding you.

Kylian opened his mouth and said, “I don't know. I don't want to draw any lines."

What?

“What?”

Kylian took a step forward towards you. "Why do you think I brought you to meet my friends?" He asked, you shook your head slowly. "Because they're sick of hearing me talk about you all the time." He said. “They're curious about you because I smile too much every time I open my phone. Fuck, I'm not good at this but, I'm terribly in love with you, (Y/N)."

You are in shock. After all this trouble, you and him are actually in love with each other? It's no wonder people say that communication is key. This is too good to be true, and because it feels more like a hallucination than reality, you muster up the courage to ask,

"Are you lying?"

Kylian rolled his eyes, but his lips smiled. “You have to ruin the moment, huh? This is supposed to be where I kiss you, you know."

"You want to kiss me?"

“Not after you say—“

The sound of a cell phone ringing interrupted Kylian, making him pull it out of his trouser pocket. He read the contact's name before picking it up. The next thing you hear is a loud yell from the other side—you're sure from his voice that this is the old man you saw in the player tunnel.

Kylian hung up the phone shortly. "It's my manager. I gotta get to the airport now.” He says.

A disappointment pulls the strings of your heart but, you try to give a smile. "You better go." You tell him.

"Yeah, car’s outside. You should start packing your things now.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion and curiosity. "You don’t mean..."

Your favorite smile plastered across his face, adorned with dimples showing in his features. “What? You don't want to go to Qatar?” he asked.

It's so mindblowing a lot of crazy things happen at one time. A few hours ago you were sitting on the couch watching a crappy reality show with your Cheetos, and now Kylian says he intends to take you to Qatar.

A smile finds a way to tug at your lips. "Only if I can get that kiss now." You said, and he was more than honored to give it to you.

“(Y/N) (L/N)! Where are you?!”

Your boss's voice over the phone is barely audible given how hard the wind is blowing. You swept your eyes across the architecture around you, smiling thinking it was beautiful with the clear sky stretching above.

“I’m in Qatar!”

“Are you shitting me?!”

"No, sir!" You answer quickly. "I'm taking my unpaid leave now!"

"I disagree. Get your ass back here or I'll fire you!"

You pursed your lips while thinking. “Would you still do it if I gave you a Mbappé signed shirt?” A second after saying that, there was a long silence on the other side.

“.. Give me a Mbappé signed shoe too and I'll think about it.”

A victorious smile reaches your face. "Deal."

Please do not associate this work with the real lives of the people in this story.

#kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe imagine #kylian mbappe imagines #mbappe imagine #mbappe imagines #mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe fluff #kylian mbappe angst #mbappe fluff #mbappe angst #footballer x reader #footballer angst #footballer fluff #football imagine #football fanfic #football imagines

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futbol16 · 8 months

Text

Never Say Die¹ • Steph Catley

Resquests: part 2 to the steph fic? Please a part 2?

Part 1/2 of part 2 for I Miss You

Part 2/2

Word count: 4,6k ( i had to cut it into two parts because tumblr wouldn't let me post it but im posting both rn)

The match of the knockout stage was an important one, just like the ones before and the ones to come. It was a do or die, you either win or you can wave goodbye to your world cup dreams.

However, you were confident in the team and with Australia backing up the Matilda’s you gave the fans a performance to celebrate.

The crowd was loud as Caitlin scored the first goal of the match in her home city, the amazing through ball from Mary that cut through six Danish defenders being endlessly praised. To all of your pleasures Sam had finally made her come back and joined in the 80th minute. And to top it all off the team ended the game with another goal this time coming from Hayley and an assist from you.

You gripped Steph’s hand tightly as the team celebrated in the locker room after the game but you still made sure to be subtle about it, aware of the cameras and phones recording. It was one thing that your sister and friends knew about the two of you, but you didn’t want the world to know just yet.

Steph hid the beaming smile on her face in her shoulder as she glanced at you and you pretended not to notice as you made brief eye contact with the camera lens of Charli’s phone.

The joyous screams and shouts of the team told you one thing, this world cup was going to be Australia’s.

Screams filled your ears as you lined up in the tunnel behind your girlfriend and in front of Caitlin. The small hand in yours is enough to ground you and you made sure to keep your focus ahead and not let yourself look over to the French. You knew if you did the calm in your head would turn into chaos seeing your former Lyon teammates again. Even Wendie’s big head of hair at the front of France’s line up was just a blur to you and to keep yourself busy while you waited for the referee's sign, you turned to the small girl next to you.

Upon doing so you notice her shivering a little, her other hand pulled tightly to her chest in an unsuccessful attempt to keep herself warm. Your mascot barely looked the age of 7 and in spite of her lips slowly turning purple, she was visibly buzzing with excitement.

Taking one last glance towards the referee you kneel in front of the small girl who turns to you in surprise but you give her a big smile and she reciprocates it with a toothy grin.

“Are you cold, love?” your voice is warm, and as it reaches Steph’s ears in front of you she thinks that alone would be enough to warm up the little girl.

“Mhmm a little” she mumbles, suddenly becoming shy but you continue smiling at her comfortingly. She clasps her hands together behind her back as you let go of them for a moment and she stares at you with big eyes as you pull off your gloves.

Caitlin grins down at the two of you, her own hand swinging her mascot's hand back and forth lightly. The forward’s eyes lift as her friend turns slightly and Caitlin doesn’t miss the way Steph’s eyes soften at the sight of you conversing with the little girl.

“My name is Grace” she tells you, this time a bit more confident.

“You have a beautiful name Grace” her smile only seems to widen and she fiddles with her fingers behind her back as she stares at you with big eyes.

“Could you give me your hand pumpkin’?” Grace untangles her hands from behind her back and you put your gloves on each hand. Just as you finish, the referee signals that it’s time to walk out and you stand back up to grab Grace’s hand again, exchanging another grin with her.

When the national anthems come to an end and the mascots make their ways off the field, the girls beside you aren’t surprised to see your team coat hanging off the little girl’s shoulders instead of yours. Your focus is elsewhere as you clap hands with the French team, greeting past teammates with a smile as they move on and you hug Wendie and Selma before you take your place up front with Emily and Mary.

The crowd is loud, the sold out stadium is standing tall for the Matildas and you take a moment to look around and breathe in deeply before you zero out the noise of the audience and compose yourself as the whistle is blown.

The game is immediately off to an intense start and Tony can tell within the first 20 minutes that this would be a long game. You only hope you would be able to progress farther than you have the last two times you played in a world cup quarter final with the Matildas.

Alanna and Katrina are playing their hearts out in the back, clearing balls after balls and you wonder just how surprised the French must feel.

Going into the game you were well aware of the fact that France are ranked the better team, you knew it, the girls knew it, Tony and the fans knew it and the French were more than proud of their title. However, the Matildas show just how much numbers and lists are worth by keeping almost equal possession of the ball. Surely, judging by Hervé Renard’s reaction he expected his team to score early on.

That wasn’t going to happen any time soon though.

Australia is playing the game of their lives with Caitlin making run after run and Kyra’s master dribbling, not to mention Mackenzie’s saves.

The team head off the field with their heads held high and the score stuck at a 0-0. The cheering and shouts in the stadium are loud as ever and it only boosts the team’s confidence. You wondered if the atmosphere was similar in the other stadiums they were broadcasting the match in.

“Come on girls! We’re doing great and I’m proud of all of you” Tony doesn’t waste time as he starts his half time speech and you eagerly listen to what he’s saying, twisting your bottle’s cap in thought.

“But we need to be quicker. Our defense is good but so is theirs and we saw how quick they were with their counter attacks.” the coach turns to the board in front of him as he points out different plays he thinks Caitlin and yourself could make, also handing out instructions to the midfielders and clapping the rest on the back. Tony ends his speech and your focus is shifted to your favorite defender as she stands.

“When we go out there again, I want you to believe you’re winners. I want you to hear the crowd, to see the massive amount of fans out here. I want you to connect with each other and I want you to play like this is the last game you would ever play. And I want you to enjoy it, enjoy it and show them why we’re here!” Steph’s captain's speech makes goosebumps rise over everyones skin and a bigger fire is ignited in the girls’ eyes, a deeper desire to win.

You nod to your girlfriend as your eyes connect in the team huddle and Steph nods back at you as her lips curl a little.

With a final ‘Up the Tillies!’ and claps to the back, Australia steps foot on the pitch for the second half.

As much as you try to bring Tony’s speech to life,you fall short to Caitlin. Half of the opposing team knows you from your four years spent in Lyon, they know you and they know the way you play. If that wasn’t enough, the other half of them were your rivals while playing in the French division and so the PSG players are aware of your skills and tricks too. It makes it practically impossible for you to even get close to the goal because you’ve got at least three defenders on your back at all times. Which in return makes it difficult for Mary and Emily beside you, and Caitlin who’s probably ran half a marathon by now.

“Fuck off Élisa!” tension is rising between you and the defender who only smirks at you in return. De Almeida had just made a goal line clearance from Mary’s shot and less than a minute after play resumed, she was tackling you to the ground.

It angered you so much. You wanted to play well and to help your teammates but you simply couldn’t. Your heart is beating out of your chest and you huff out another frustrated breath.

“Hey, come on. Don’t be so hard on yourself” Caitlin’s arm finds its way around your shoulders as Karchaoui is treated by the medics and you throw your head back at her words.

“Cait, I want to play and I can’t do anything with them on my ass! Élisa has a boot shoved up there at all times and I basically have no influence on the game.” you explain to her in a rush. It was currently nearing the end of added injury time and the score was still an underwhelming nothing.

You couldn’t keep track of the amount of saves your sister has made and the number of shots Hayley and Sam had on goal, you didn’t need to though because the French keeper was there to save them every time and so it didn’t matter much.

“We’re playing as a team, bug. Your struggle is my struggle, my struggle is your struggle. You just wait Y/N/N, we’ll show them what ‘Never say die’ means.” Caitlin with her wise words again. The older girl rubs your arm and shoots you an encouraging smile as you join your teammates in a drink break before extra time would start. She was right though, there was no blaming one person for the scoreless game.

A hand settles on your lower back as you listen to Tony and the assistant coach, slowly sipping on your drink. You turn your head just a little to see and big brown eyes shine in the lights of the stadium, a look in them reserved just for you.

“Look at them…” Steph trails off as she nods towards the stands and you follow her instructions, lifting your head.

A sea of gold and green flooded the stands, excited yells echoing in the sold out stadium, smiles on faces and a glint in the young girls’ and boys’ eyes. Signs are held high and you notice just how many of them have your name on them, Y/n Arnold. The Matildas fans are decked out in yours and your teammates jersey and you swear your heart calms its rapid beating. They believed in you, they were here for you and they have your backs and they had faith in you, in every single one of you.

“It’s so beautiful” you whisper to the brunette, somehow still being heard over the noise of the fans. Steph’s eyes remain on you however, a small smile playing on her lips as she squeezes your waist.

“So beautiful” she concludes as well and you turn to face her, nodding to yourself.

“We are winning it for them, yeah” you’re rewarded with a proud smile and a determined nod from your captain. Eventually you retake your position on the field but you exchange a few words of encouragement with Mackenzie before you do so. And then you’re back in the game.

Fouls and corners are handed out one by one but none result in goals for either team, even Alanna’s own goal had thankfully been disallowed because of Renard’s foul on Caitlin inside the box. The look on the blonde’s face was priceless and if you weren’t fighting for your life in this match you would’ve laughed at her.

Courtnee’s fresh legs instantly make an impact as she is subbed in for Hayley but it goes just wide and before you know it the second half of extra time has started.

“Nugget, come on” Mackenzie has an arm reaching for you as you slowly walk towards the side lines, absolutely exhausted but you wouldn’t back down until your team would win.

You lean into her side as she wraps and arm around you and your sister momentarily rests her head on yours. The goalkeeper's presence brings you a sense of homely comfort and she smiles down at you while leading you towards one of the physios. You join Caitlin on the grass and the two of you get a quick massage to your hamstrings just to relieve some tension and for the pair of you to be able to continue on for the possibility of a penalty shootout.

The French are attacking again but Mackenzie manages to tip the ball over the crossbar with a magnificent save and the crowd roars. Then not long after Steph takes a corner that Caitlin connects with but it’s deflected by the other team’s defense.

This looks and feels like a game that is destined for penalties.

Your eyebrows almost raise to your hairline as you see the French goalkeeper be subbed off and Durand replacing her. You look towards the rest in surprise and your eyes connect with Mary’s who’s sporting a similar expression to yours.

When a second later another substitution is announced you whip your head around to see the number 5 glowing in red. A near victorious smirk graces your lips as you watch De Almeida walk off angrily and Caitlin cannot help but laugh at your antics. Élisa being taken off makes your job a lot easier, if not for anything else at least she wouldn’t be there to annoy you and try to rile you up for the last few minutes of the match.

Your smirk is washed off your face when the whistle is blown and the referee instructs the two teams to line up for the penalty shootout.

A shallow breath leaves your mouth knowing just how much pressure would be on each of your teammates who would have to step up and take the penalty. You trusted Mackenzie enough to know she’d do her best but you were still nervous for the next shot.

You stand between Alanna and Mini, anxiously shifting from foot to foot as Selma Bacha stands behind the ball. She pulls her leg back, fires and- a shout leaves you as you clap for your sister, Mackenzie has dived after the ball and made an immaculate save. Caitlin next and you squeeze Alanna’s waist.

“She’s got it” you breathe out watching as the forward doesn’t even look in the keeper’s eye.

“OF COURSE SHE DOES!” the blonde screams next to you when Caitlin celebrates and you feel yourself gain even more confidence in the team as the crowd erupts in cheers. 1-0.

Diani steps up, she takes it and Mackenzie barely has time to react. Your heart breaks a little for your sister who gets up from her knees with a deep breath. 1-1.

Steph, she’s been absolute class with penalties this whole world cup and all of you are certain she will fool Durand, easy peasy. She takes it, it goes to the right, almost an exact copy of Selma’s shot and the French saves it. Steph steps back with slight disappointment and your heart squeezes painfully at her misfortune. 1-1.

Wendie Renard slots it past Mackenzie easily and you clench your jaw in frustration but manage to give your sister an encouraging nod. She’s got this. You’ve all got this. 1-2.

Your heart speeds up as your captain places the ball down, but just like with any other teammate, you all believe in her endlessly. And she doesn’t disappoint, how could the Sam Kerr ever disappoint? It goes past Durand’s outstretched hands and the net ripples. Sam celebrates, finally having a good touch on the ball after the past 126 minutes. 2-2.

Le Sommer, your former teammate reenacts Wendie’s goal but inverted it and the brunette in goal stays on her knees for a second to collect herself. The girls next to you are just as anxious, the whole line of Matildas is practically swaying left and right. 2-3.

“Come on Mare!” you shout after the girl as she walks by and you watch proudly as she gets her payback on Durand, shooting left as the French dives right. The fans are loud and you don’t blame them, knowing at this rate you’ll lose your voice before you get to finish the penalties. 3-3.

Perisset steps up, shoots- oh it hits the goalpost! You can’t contain the squeak that comes out of your mouth but you try to downplay your celebrations. It seemed like the goalpost was on Australia’s side tonight. 3-3.

And you take back that last statement immediately as Mackenzie’s shot hits the other goalpost.

“Fucking hell” Alanna curses next to you and you can only agree with her when you see your sister deflate like an overused ball. 3-3.

Geyoro’s ball is almost saved and your mouth is hung open ready to cheer for Mackenzie but it goes just past her fingertips. The crowd boos as the French celebrate. 3-4.

Katrina detaches herself from you and she takes her place behind the ball. It’s a rocket of a shot and the french keeper can’t stop it from going in. Australia screams along to your team’s celebrations and you grin as Mini mimics a rocking motion as she celebrates. That goal was dedicated to Harper. 4-4.

Just one more to go.

Karchaoui and it bounces off the crossbar and into the goal, Mackenzie’s fingertips just grazing the ball. The French team is going crazy next to you and you have to take a second to compose yourself and cling onto that strand of hope. 4-5.

If Tameka misses the next one, Australia’s world cup dreams are over. They would be over and you wouldn’t even have silverware to give to the country. You shake your head to get rid of those thoughts, reminding yourself that you were professional athletes and were meant to be able to deal with these situations.

And deal with it is what Tameka does, sliding in that ball in the bottom left corner. The stadium goes wild and so does your team, all clapping her on the back and shouting praises at her.

She had just saved your asses and with what an amazing goal she saved it with. 5-5.

This had been the seventh penalty. At this point there’s no ‘just one more to go’ in your mind, with how it has been so far these penalties were going to be never-ending.

Lakrar doesn’t waste a second after the whistle is blown and Mackenzie goes the wrong way as the ball goes down the middle. The players in blue are celebrating like they know they’ve just won it all and you swear you can feel De Almeida’s devilish smirk directed towards you, even though you’re faced away. 5-6.

Your sister is disappointed in herself, that much is clear but she stops you just as you move away from your teammates.

“Take a deep breath Y/n, you know you can do it, we all know you can. I believe in you sis” she tells you sincerely as you look up at her and you bite the inside of your cheek at her words. Your time to give a reaction is cut short as the referee urges you to take your place behind the ball.

The fans are up on their feet, hands gripping the cold metal railing in distress and you feel all the nerves settle in even more. If you make it, you’re still in the game. If you don’t…you don’t even want to think about it. And to be the cause of your country’s loss, you’d never forgive yourself for that.

You get a few more seconds to get your shit together as the referee assesses Durand who has stepped off her line and you take in a deep breath, just like Macca told you to.

A wave of adrenaline washes over you and as the referee blows her whistle again you pull back and strike the ball with all your power. You don’t move an inch from your position at the penalty spot and your eyes follow the movement of the ball, the fans leaning forward in their seats. It goes straight towards the keeper and you feel your knees buckle underneath you, you’re ready to give up but then it curls harshly, the ball not even spinning as it hits the top right corner.

It’s silent for a second, at least for you as blood rushes to your ears but then you’re back and you’re screaming and you are jumping into your sister’s arms and the fans are jumping up and down with you.

6-6.

You saved your country from a loss. And a smile resides on your face as Kenza Dali takes her own shot, if she misses- well you know you’re going through, you’re confident in the girls.

Mackenzie dives and she pushes the ball wide, screaming towards the stands as she celebrates, the rest of you copying her. But your celebrations are short lived as the referee blows her whistle, instructing Kenza to redo the penalty.

“What the fuck for?!” you yell in fury, upset that she might’ve just ruined this moment for your sister. When she announces that Mackenzie has stepped off her line your shoulders drop. As opposed to you, your sister stays calm and collected, she’s in complete control of the situation and you straighten up at that. She believed in you and you believed in her.

“Just wait for it” Alanna turns to you, the defender is just as confident in your sister as you are and she shoots you a smirk. If anyone could save this crucial penalty, it was Mackenzie Arnold.

Dali strikes the ball thinking she might outplay your goalkeeper as she sends it in the same path as the previous one but Mackenzie hunts it down like a prey and Kenza holds her head as your sister stares down the referee. The cheeky bugger! Once the save is awarded to her she turns to the crowd yelling before she joins the rest of you. 6-6.

Courtnee glances back at the team once before focusing her attention on the ball. You know she’s going to score, she never missed a penalty before.

The crowd in the stadium are loud, already clapping her on before she even takes the shot. She runs up, leans forward and pulls her leg back, when it comes back down it hits the ball with power and it sails through the air.

Durand dives and the ball is there, the ball is there but Durand doesn’t get a hand on it- IT GOES IN! 7-6.

The Matildas are through to the semi-finals! If Australia was loud before, well they’re deafening now as they go wild in their screams of cheering.

Courtnee takes off in a sprint and the rest of you follow her as you scream her name and dog pile each other, a massive sense of relief and joy overflowing in your systems. The subs run in too and Courtnee finds herself in the middle of the group hug, eyes welling up.

“YES VINEY!” “FUCKING YES MATE!”

The atmosphere, you’ve never felt this before and your team celebrates wildly, jumping up and down, screaming and happy tears running down some of your cheeks.

“Oh my god, we’re through!” your disbelieving tone makes Hayley chuckle and she takes your face into her hands, the smile on her face larger than you have ever seen it be.

“We fucking are, we are fucking winning this shit!” she brings you into a bone crushing hug and you let out a teary laugh at her choice of words.

You back away for just a moment, eyes searching for a tall brunette and when you spot her you see her also looking for you. You’re in your sister’s arms in an instant, tightly clinging on to her as she spins the two of you around, laughs escaping both of your mouths as you hug her head close to your chest.

“Macca, you’re my fucking hero!” you pull back just enough to see her face and she breaks out in a toothy grin, her eyes shining with pride and ecstasy and just about every emotion possible as she lets you back down to your feet.

“No, you are my hero!” she counters as she cups the back of your neck, leaning down slightly to be at your height. Her words mean the absolute most to you, and the proud look on her face means even more, just like the proud look on yours- it makes both of your hearts swell.

A confused glint flashes in Mackenzie’s eyes as you take her gloved hands into yours but you only continue grinning as you get down on one knee, bowing your head in front of her gloved hands. Those hands have been the ones to save Australia’s ass so many times and you give your sister the praises she deserves even if it’s in the form of a silly bow. Mackenzie throws her head back with a loud watery laugh but the picture taken of the two of you makes headlines the following morning, newspapers filled with Vine’s diVine game winning goal and Mackenzie’s amazing saves.

Celebrations are taken to the changing room and then to the bus until half the team passes out in exhaustion and the last 20 minutes of the bus ride back to camp is silent, hushed whispers the only thing heard from the few that are still awake, yourself included.

You finally had the chance to talk to your one and only, and that’s exactly what you were doing.

Your arm is lazily hanging over Steph’s right shoulder as she whispers to you, her body turned towards you. You’re playing with the ends of her hair behind her back but you give her all your attention as you listen to her, the smile on your lips never leaving your face.

“You did so good today, pretty girl” it makes her face flush and she looks away for a second, a massive smile taking over her features and you have to stop yourself from giggling at the lovesick look in her eyes.

“But I missed that penalty-”

“It doesn’t matter, you played amazing all throughout, Stephy. And that half time speech, my god!” you cut right in and tell her just how it was. The defender drops her head to your shoulder and then tucks it into the crook of your neck as your arms wrap around her to bring her closer.

“You were amazing too” she murmurs into your skin and you bury your nose into her hair.

Mackenzie watches the interaction from just a few rows in front of you, the ghost of a smile on her lips as she turns to Caitlin next to her.

“Why didn’t you tell me they’d be so cute?” she’s met with an incredulous look and a beat of silence passes before the forward next to her deadpans.

“Because of your initial reaction!?”

“Oh..right. Forgot about that.”

The following days your training sessions are focused on defensive work and quick counter attacks. You were getting ready for the semi final against England, ranked second in the world.

That meant close to nothing to your team. After all, the Matildas came into the tournament as the underdogs and now they were one of the last ones still standing. Anything was possible.

#futbol16 #woso imagine #woso x reader #steph catley x reader #mackenzie arnold x reader #caitlin foord x reader #matildas x reader #australia matildas imagine

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delicatesoundofthunderr · 3 months

Text

Lock up ~ Chapter 6

{Charles Leclerc x Reader}

French GP - race 8

Y/N POV

I didn't really know how to feel towards Leclerc's words. It shouldn't affect me since I'm not even dating Max, but the fact he seemed so mad made me feel a thousand things. Mostly satisfied, since there was nothing more fun than to annoy Leclerc deeply. I don't know where his anger comes from though. Maybe the thought of me happy? The same could be said for me when I saw him and that girl laugh.

With all these confusing sentiments, I decided to open my phone.

Not this account again...

@F1.drama

MAX HAS BEEN CAUGHT CHEATING...

Yall... We don't even know who this girl is, but that is not Y/N. They've also been caught kissing :((. I feel so bad for Y/N, she's never gonna win a grand prix ever again without Max's help...

@chloe.gal: nah that's wrong... also wdym by Y/N never winning again?

-> @F1.drama: Max let her win obvi.

-> ->@faia.gg: girl shut up...

@hrts414: omg Charles predicted it in the interview... it did end badly :((

Fuck. I was gonna kill Max. First, he makes it look like he gave me the win, and now, he's cheating? He's doing the contrary of what the deal's purpose was supposed to be. He's making me look so bad right now.

I furiously get up from my chair and almost knock it over, and make my way to the other side of the RedBull garage.

I spot him near his car, and when his eyes meet mine he already knows why I'm here. He motions me to follow him. We're now in his quarters, and I explode.

" Are you fucking kidding me Max? You're ruining everything for me!" I start, with emotion.

" Listen,"

" No, I won't listen, I'm not done! Did you hear what they say about my win? About me? Fake dating or not, you should say something,"

I fume.

" It's not my place to say anything..." Max stammers.

" It is! It fucking is, because you know what? You're a man. You're a fucking man and the media likes to make your voice louder than mine." I say, pointing my finger accusingly.

" That's not even true, you're overreacting. Everyone loves you, they have to, you're the only girl on the grid." He says almost rolling his eyes.

Who the fuck was he rolling his eyes to?

" Excuse me? Oh, be honest Max, did you, or did you not let me win." I say heavily.

" I... I did." he says, looking at the very interest wall.

The silence following suffocates me and my heart feels like it dropped a thousand feet. I guess that wasn't really the answer I was expecting.

" I hate you. I will always and forever fucking hate you for this, Max." I say with a shaky and cold voice.

Max's face is already contorted with guilt. I turn away without looking back.

•••

French GP - race #9

The free practices went great, and so did qualifying. P3. I could very much make something out of this position. I was going to prove to Max and everybody else that I didn't need any help to win.

With my head clearest as possible and a shaky breath, I start the engine. The first corner in France comes rather quickly, and I see Carlos in my mirrors getting closer and closer. I brake the latest possible, and make it out.

After a few push laps, I keep Carlos behind and slowly close the gap between me and Lando in front. I lose no time and overtake him from the outside, which lifts my mood up.

Next is Max.

He is more angled towards offence, which should give me an advantage.

Apparently Max had worked on his defense.

All througout the race, he braked a split second after me, tugged the steering wheel to close a path that was forming, and overall delivered a spotless, perfect race.

My thoughts were racing faster than me. He was doing this so... effortlessly. I can't believe I thought it was my efforts paying off when i overtook him back in Italy. Turns out it was just part of his game and I hadn't actually accomplished anything.

My thoughts seemed to cross the finish line faster than me as I parked the car and got up.

Acting for the camera, I jump in Max's arms and tap his helmet. I could very well manage a P2, it's a podium and good points. Something I was managing less at the moment was the growing pit in my stomach and a distant headache forming.

•••

On my way back to the garage, I see my dad appear around the corner. The pit in my stomach seems to deepen endlessly as he spots me and walks faster.

" I heard the news. You realize that win is completely worthless, stolen?" his stare is cold, and any trace of pride he had at the last Grand Prix was completely wiped off his hard face.

I want to say something. Scream, maybe? Nothing would come out. My throat has tighten to a point where I doubt I'm breathing anymore.

" I... I'm sorry." I manage to croak out, my eyes are burning with stubborn tears and I can't find one ounce of courage to look up at my dad.

He walks away without adding anything.

My nails dug in my palm and left a stinging sensation. My dad, who I had managed to impress for the first time in my life, was now turning his back on me again. He had every right, I was yet again making a fool of myself in a world I knew I didn't belong in.

I almost missed the pair of eyes watching my every move from a safe distance. How long had he been there? This was a secluded area of the paddock, and few people were around.

Leclerc's eyes burn holes through mine, and he seems to be looking at the parts of my mind I myself can't reach. With a final blink, he shakes his head and turns around.

My legs carry me stubbornly over to him, and my hand flies to his shoulder.

Taken aback, he turns around with a perplexed look.

" I don't know why you keep staring at me like I'm some fucking gum underneath your shoe, but can you please stop?" I furiously said, emotion painting my voice. Charles’ face morphs from confusion to anger.

" I can't believe you still let your dad walk all over you like that. And Max cheating! Do you not have an ounce of self respect left in you? I don't know what happened, but something changed ever since you joined that team"

" Changed!? You're the one talking to me about changing? I cannot believe you Leclerc." I spit. "Some of us actually have to make sacrifices to survive in this sport, you know?"

" Oh, I would know alright." his tone made me stepback. No, not his tone. His gaze.

His gaze was not angry anymore, it was full of regret and something more. Years ago this expression would've made me soften my voice, but like he said, things had changed.

" You're everyone's favourite. Ferrari's golden boy. You've got a supportive team ready to do everything to see you on top of the podium, and you don't have to get shit from the media when you make the slightest mistake." I accuse, but I'm not done.

" And you know what Charles? I think all of this would bother me way less if you actually treated me like a human being. Yes, maybe the media and pressure changed me, but you have nothing to excuse your shitty behaviour towards me." I fume.

He stayed quiet. He seemed to search for something to say that would make him innocent, but nothing could save him now.

“ You wouldn’t get it.” he mumbled, which I almost didn’t catch.

He takes my hand off his shoulder, which I didn’t notice was still clutching his shirt.

A thousand things seem to spill out of his head, but none of them make it to his mouth. He simply turns around and heads back to his garage.

I do the same, and opened my phone when I get to my own room.

@chloe.gal

stop because the pic of max cheating with the flowers literally makes me think of Charles when he gave Y/N some flowers after her first podium… what the hell happened between these two??

The flowers… I remember like it was yesterday. Charles had ran after me at the airport because I had to catch a quick flight, flowers and gifts in his hands. The bouquet combined my favourite colours and flowers, which was such a thoughtful gesture.

I re read the caption.

what the hell happened between these two?

Tears start to blur my vision and a wave of sorrow suffocates me, because what the hell happened between me and him? I miss our friendship so much but he seems to be doing just fine without me.

I get a text from Carlos asking me if I wanted to do something tonight and gladly accept. I had to get my mind off things for a bit.

•••

#x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #fanfic #max verstappen #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #fanfiction

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foundmywei · 11 months

Text

Soukoku Fanfic Recs

Here are my favorite skk fics, I will be updating this as I read. Feel free to rec more in the replies. Enjoy!

(last updated: 27/12/2023)

Masterpost

Do I Get My Worthless Reward Yet? by World_Ender22

canon-divergence

(40,986 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 10/10)

Chuuya has always been certain of two things: he is going to die young, and it will be Corruption that kills him. So when the Boss orders him to use his Corrupted form without an out, he is neither surprised nor distressed. He simply does what he's told. When Dazai learns that the whole thing is a ploy to make him rejoin the Mafia, he plans to beat Mori at his own game... starting with convincing Chuuya to join the Armed Detective Agency. / Soukoku

hide the truth by writingfromtheshadows

canon-divergence

(24,611 words | Not Rated | Chapters: 1/1)

When Chuuya wakes up in the middle of an ongoing fight without any memory of how he got there or what happened to him, he ends up turning to someone saved as 'bandage-waster' in his phone. Somehow, it just feels like the right decision.

Willful Neglect by timeisdancing

canon-divergence

(27,915 words | Mature | Chapters: 10/10)

"Dazai..." Chuuya's voice comes out too tight and small, unlikely to ever reach Dazai. His hand lifts shakily, in some dazed attempt to stop him. There is panic wild and fast in his chest, the beginnings of hyperventilation, his breaths shallow and quick.

Something's wrong, something's wrong—

This hurts too much, it's not supposed to be like this—

His vision is blurring, and his head is taut and aching with the stress and anxiety and so much anguish that he can barely comprehend it.

The last of Dazai's hazy form disappears, far in the distance. _______

Forced into a difficult situation, Dazai has to leave Chuuya behind post-Corruption without his usual thorough check-up. Only, he has no idea just what state Chuuya was in as he was walking away from him that night.

Grief is a good teacher on how to value those you love. When he gets Chuuya back, Dazai uses his lessons well.

I'll Always Come for Chuuya by timeisdancing

PM skk era

(11,550 words | Not Rated | Chapters: 4/4)

A memory comes to him; in the dark as they lay in bed, a small whisper between their faces, a secret moment, Promise Chuuya won't ever use Corruption when I'm not there?

What if you're not there and I have no choice? Chuuya asked.

Chuuya has to wait for me. I don't care what's happening. Chuuya has to wait.

Chuuya stares down at his screen, hidden again behind some debri. There is still no response. His hand tightens around it, tremulous. He had to have seen it by now. Dazai's phone is always in his pocket.

Shit. Does he really not give a damn anymore?

He remembers a small smile, eyes gentle and deep and dark. I'll always come for Chuuya.

Liar.

______

Dazai has been distant with Chuuya these days, seeming to have grown bored of him and has been spending more and more time with Oda Sakunosuke. This sudden rift has consequences, and Chuuya will be the one to bear it.

picking a flower that blooms on the heart for you by burgundytshirt

hanahaki AU

(44,643 words | Mature | Chapters: 9/9)

The question is obvious at this point.

To die, or to ask Dazai for help?

Chuuya is so choked by this question that his breakfast is lodged in his throat, unable to be swallowed.

(Or, Chuuya would much rather die than let Dazai find out he has hanahaki disease.)

it's easy, if it's you by lunarumbra

fake dating AU

(16,500 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

“And then you promised that you’d do anything I asked no matter what it is? We made a contract and everything!” Chuuya produces a laminated scrap of paper decorated with clumsy script and a couple of misspelled words and - yeah, there's no mistaking it. It’s definitely 10 year-old Dazai’s handwriting.

Or: Chuuya needs a date for a wedding in France.

teenage nightmares commit atrocities by forever_wandering

PM skk era

(107,063 words | Mature | Chapters: 22/22)

“Tsushima Shuuji,” Chuuya reads out loud. “A bright, optimistic young man with a pep in his step and a zest for life. Hang on–is this referring to you?” “Unfortunately,” Dazai laments, sighing dramatically. “You just got away with ‘science nerd’ and ‘soccer player,’ but I’m supposed to be an artist! I hate art! It’s useless!” “Shut the fuck up. That’s not the problem here. You? A ‘zest for life?’ Looking forward to each new morning? Hah! Rimbaud would sooner come back to life.” Dazai turns to Chuuya with the barest facsimile of a smile painted over his lips. “I,” he says sweetly, “am going to gut you open like a fish.”

Dazai and Chuuya are seasoned mafiosos at the ripe old age of almost-seventeen. They’ve fought gang wars, interrogated prisoners, and done all manner of unspeakable things. Now, they face their greatest challenge yet: going (undercover) to a real high school. With regular teens (who may or may not be desperately trying to get them to kiss). One thing’s for sure: this school is unprepared for the absolute calamity that is Double Black.

This is how it feels to take a fall by forest_raccoon

canon divergence, temporary MCD

(20,602 words | Mature | Chapters: 9/9)

Gazing down into those blank, empty blue eyes, Dazai felt something shatter inside him. And in the wake of the destruction, the emptiness, he was flooded by sudden, ice-cold clarity. It wasn't okay. But it would be. He would make it okay.

[Or, something unthinkable happens, and Dazai goes more than a little feral in his attempt to reverse it.]

Narrow Staircases by rutu14

time travel

(31,045 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

The last thing Chuuya expects while overseeing a routine shipment is for his sixteen year old self to appear out of thin air.

all my own by halfbloom (diphylleias)

PM skk era

(17,473 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

“A day off?” Chuuya echoes, blinking slowly. “Yes,” Mori repeats with a chuckle, but it sounds like an order this time. “A day off. Do with it as you please.” And right as Chuuya is opening his mouth to ask why, Mori perks up and says, “Ah, I instructed Dazai-kun to take the day off as well.” He smiles serenely. “So you two may spend it together, if you’d like.” Chuuya’s eye twitches.

In between carnival games and ice cream stands, Chuuya learns a thing or two at seventeen about normalcy, cotton candy, and hand-holding.

Around We Go (And Back Again) by zombiemarker

canon-divergence

(24,247 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 7/7)

Corruption takes a toll, the mafia doesn't care for weakness, and the ADA has a bad habit of picking up traumatized gay orphans.

In which the author beats the shit out of the characters in order to make them happier and healthier later. Also ADA Chuuya.

bite your tongue by soupthatistoohot

canon-divergence

(20,709 words | Teen and Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

The Armed Detective Agency receives a mission to investigate and take down an assassin group that has been targeting high-profile individuals through a very specific method: first, the target is sent into an unwakeable sleep for a week, and second, when they wake up, they are unable to speak. Third and last, they die of a heart attack two weeks later. Ranpo suggests negotiating with the Port Mafia for the aid of executive Chuuya Nakahara, wanting to have Double Black at their disposal. But when Chuuya arrives… he cannot speak. Chuuya Nakahara has been targeted, and supposedly, he has two weeks left until he is killed.

all the holes we had to breathe by airiena

canon universe

(18,220 words | Teen and Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

“...Are you in a hurry or something?” Chuuya inquires, hand instinctively reaching out to wipe at the corner of Dazai’s mouth, successfully getting rid of the crumbs, before he realizes what he’s doing and freezes. “Yeah.” Dazai all but breathes. He is golden, when Chuuya takes in his appearance. He is a golden thing, dimmed, beaten, snuffed out, full of scratches but is still so human and so real despite what he always seems to believe that it makes the redhead want nothing but to take him into his arms and hide him from the heavy, heavy world and soothe all his aches and kiss all his scars— “I’m in a hurry, because I’ve already lost too much time.”

death offers no absolution by Zairielon

canon-divergence

(62,063 words | Mature | Chapters: 10/10)

After so many years in the Port Mafia, Chuuya thought he couldn't be phased by anything - that he had carried out the worst orders that would ever be given to him. Then he sees things he never saw before. He sees horror, cruelty, needless suffering. He sees death in every step he takes. Chuuya is only human, too. Eventually, he breaks. OR, Chuuya leaves the Port Mafia and attempts to escape his bloodstained past.

like a piece of glass by kagshina

PM & present era

(10,554 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 2/2)

The first time it happened, naturally, was after a fight. Chuuya couldn’t even remember what it was exactly that started the fight, only that Dazai said something to piss him off and it had escalated from there. Somehow, they ended up here—with Dazai saying, “I can kiss better than you.”

Over every extinguished past by tucuxi

canon-divergence

(16,590 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

It’s been a little more than a month since everything almost went to shit, since the Armed Detective Agency and Port Mafia faced off against Dostoyevsky, since Yokohama almost lost its fragile, balanced peace.

And it’s also been just about a month since Ranpo emerged from Poe’s book, all pride and glowing accomplishment for solving 500 murders in a week, and just a passing comment about the other guy losing patience and starting punching people.

Chuuya emerges from Poe's book, exhausted, to discover that Dazai has been severely injured. Standing guard in the Agency's infirmary, Yosano, Kunikida, and Chuuya find unexpected common cause in their desire to keep Dazai in one piece despite his best efforts to hide his vulnerabilities from everyone around him.

Snow White and the Huntsman by paranoid_fridge

dead apple aftermath

(1,453 words | General Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

They're alive against all odds, but the fight continues without them. Huddled against a crumbling wall, Chuuya and Dazai find themselves discussing fairytales and their own roles, and (they will later blame adrenaline/near-death experiences/ general after-battle delirium) accidentally confess. Or something like that. The words 'true love' are used, however.

One more time with feelings by Root (Fyki)

PM & present era

(12,584 words | Explicit | Chapters: 6/6)

He didn't say anything, just waiting for Chuuya to keep going. The lack of an angry response at being ignored picked at Dazai's interest, but it was Chuuya's next words that finally made him lift his eyes and properly look at him. "Have you- have you ever kissed someone?" That, Dazai hadn't expected. (Five times Dazai kissed Chuuya and pretended it meant nothing, and one time he kissed him and couldn't deny it meant everything.)

A mission gone wrong - BSD / BNHA Crossover by Unicornfairycat

BSD / BNHA crossover, time travel

(57,458 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 20/20)

The Armed Detective Agency and Port Mafia are asked to investigate "amplified abilities" around Yokohama. After initial complaints, Dazai and Chuuya agree to work together. Their group manages to find the culprit and devises a plan to apprehend them. It's supposed to be foolproof but something goes horribly wrong. Dazai and Chuuya are sucked into an amplified portal which teleports them into the future. Two hundred years.

They land in the middle of a highschool and learn that abilities have become much more common and are now called quirks. As they figure out a way back to their time, they have to act as teachers for the hero course students in class 1-A, in return for U.A. to help them out with housing, I.D. and information gathering.

Silent sorrows / Loud feelings by foundmywei

canon-divergence

(8,406 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

But there was no God of destruction trying to take over him. Chuuya, quietly standing in the agency’s infirmary with his partner’s cold hand in his, came to the crushing realization that he had lost the one person he had always wished to keep close.

Or, a mission requires Dazai to fake his death. He doesn’t think informing Chuuya about it is necessary.

STORM by foundmywei

future fic, aged up characters

(37,258 words | Mature | Chapters: 7/7)

Osamu had thought of countless things he wanted to tell Chuuya once he saw him again, but what ended up leaving his mouth was, "Did you get shorter?"

Chuuya stared at him in silence for a few moments before he let out a sigh, rubbing his temple. "So you're still acting like a child."

Or, after six more years of separation, Osamu and Chuuya find their way back to each other again. Some things have changed, and some have not. One thing is certain, though; Soukoku are going to make their love drama everybody’s problem.

Stay by the_most_happy

canon-divergence

(23,699 words | Mature | Chapters: 1/1)

“Oi, Dazai, what are they saying, anyway? Too many people. It gets confusing.”

The detective smirks.

“They are just discussing the budget for the next mission. Kunikida insists he wants an ice cream, a drone, and a goat.”

From the Port Mafia dungeon to the depths of Meursault, Dazai and Chuuya keep finding each other.

They fall in love all over again — or, maybe, they never stopped.

That’s all.

clear skies by burgundytshirt

canon compliant

(2,860 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

When Chuuya, wounded in combat, bumps into his ex-partner in the streets, he pretends that he’s fine as they banter like usual. Except halfway through tugging at Dazai’s collar, Chuuya suddenly passes out into Dazai’s arms.

I'll Make A Home In Your Gut Because its Somewhere Warm to Sleep by arahabakii

canon universe

(8,959 words | Mature | Chapters: 1/1)

After what felt like a lifetime, Dazai softly said “thank you.” The softness of his voice sent shivers down his spine. “For what?” Chuuya whispers, too afraid that if he spoke too loudly in this moment, it would disappear before his eyes. “For today,” Dazai confesses, brown eyes staring into blue ones, in the hopes that he might drown in them forever. “For just seeing me.” “Do you always thank people by kissing them?” “No,” Dazai whispered with a trembling breath. “Just you.” OR In a moment of weakness and vulnerability, the underworlds deadliest duo after 7 years, find a new sense of solace and comfort in one another.

Replaceable by timeisdancing

canon-divergence

(17,012 words | Not Rated | Chapters: 6/6)

Chuuya is scrabbling frantically at Mori's hands around his throat, his eyes wide. His body glows a faint red, fizzles out like a cough. "You can't even use your powers when you're like this, can you, Chuuya-kun?" "Mori, he is hurt." Dazai's voice rasps with controlled anger. Mori ignores him. "I can't tell where Dazai's plan begins and your stupidity ends, but regardless, such information should have never come out of that mouth of yours. What did you think? That such treachery will be forgiven and you will be made an exception? By the rules of the mafia, you are a traitor." ____ When one of Dazai's plans go too far, it inadvertently leads to Chuuya's death sentence. While in the dungeon cellars together facing the consequences, Dazai takes care of Chuuya and tries to save him.

Run Away With Me by timeisdancing

dark era

(5,306 words | Not Rated | Chapters: 1/1)

He must have knocked. Some time after, the door hauls open. "That's just great," the short redhead in the doorway sighs with disgust, all silken lavender yukata and flat eyes, "Just what I needed after a long flight back home. Shitty Dazai, the last thing I want right now is to see your ugly-ass face, so fuck off out of here." Dazai is staring at Chuuya blankly, and can't remember what made him think he could come here. "Right." His whisper is thin, raspy. Right. Of course. Like a ghost that doesn't know it's dead, he turns around, and he begins to leave just the way he came. "Dazai?" _______ After Odasaku's death, Dazai ends up at Chuuya's door, rain-soaked, dissociated and grieving.

I Was Never Meant to Last by timeisdancing

16 skk

(17,391 words | Mature | Chapters: 1/1)

Dazai ends up in a coma after his most serious suicide attempt yet. He has left three letters, one of them being for Chuuya. Sitting at the bedside of his comatose body, Chuuya tries to understand. ______ Dazai is falling. In the orange glow of sunrise, the waves of his hair are fanning around him, and his dark eye is wide with fear and shock, his hand outstretched towards Chuuya. Chuuya is not even thinking anymore. All he can see is that hand reaching for him as he launches off against the balustrade and falls after him. He uses his ability to make himself heavier, his own drop faster, his hand reaching for Dazai right back. It's only when he catches Dazai in his arms, holding his head tight against his own shoulder and trying to fly back up that he remembers; this won't work. He must have been really out of his mind to have forgotten it at all.

Lessons in Kissing by timeisdancing

18 skk

(8,101 words | Not Rated | Chapters: 1/1)

At eighteen, Chuuya doesn't know how to kiss. Dazai teaches him how. _ "I think you broke my nose," Dazai says faintly, finally letting Chuuya remove his hands. He frowns as Chuuya angles his head a bit to look at it. Dazai presses the back of a quick finger to the underside of his nose, blinking. "I'm bleeding, aren't I? I think I'm bleeding?" Chuuya rolls his eyes, letting him go. "Your nose is fine. It's not bleeding either, so stop bein' so dramatic about it." "Chuuya should kiss it better." "Hah!" Chuuya exclaims, "Shut the hell up, you! This doesn't give ya a free pass to say such bullshit just 'cuz I'm doing this with you!" Dazai is staring ahead, his eyes hazy. "Ugh, yeah. I'm pretty grossed out too now at what I just said. Where were we? Oh, right." He looks back at Chuuya, focused again. "So… this time… go slow, okay? I know you're excited to kiss my pretty face and all but - " "DAZAI!" Chuuya's voice is high and wild, bordering on a screech. He's starting to regret this already. "But you have to make sure you can actually see where my pretty face is instead of just banging into me."

Doll Parts by the_most_happy

post meursault

(8,367 words | Mature | Chapters: 1/1)

“Chuuya, what—?”

Chuuya grasps at Dazai’s bolo tie, fingers shaking and cheeks turning paler by the minute.

“I had nowhere else to go.”

Or: Shot during a mission, Chuuya crawls to the only person he trusts — his traitor ex-partner.

If you refuse to listen I’ll say it twice, love of my life by olympiansally

canon universe

(15,207 words | Mature | Chapters: 1/1)

There’s Atsushi, Dazai’s star pupil. There’s Fyodor, arguably Dazai’s soulmate, a single mind in two bodies. There’s Kunikida, Dazai’s partner. There’s Oda, the reason Dazai wants to live. And then there’s Chuuya. If he asked Dazai to define him, to name his purpose, Chuuya already knows what he would hear. Chuuya is his dog, Chuuya is a slug, Chuuya is a chibi. And sure, maybe he is. But none of that is enough. Or, Chuuya can’t figure out what he means to Dazai exactly, but if he would only listen, he would realize that Dazai has been telling him all along.

the void is loud and wants tuna by mistflowerxuan

canon universe, arahabakitty

(5,028 words | General Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

Port Mafia Executive Nakahara Chuuya is a formidable man, the strongest ability user and is terrifying on the battlefield. He has been through indescribable horrors and has come out of those battles stronger for it. And so, there is not much in this world that can truly startle him. An eldritch abomination curled up on his chest, vaguely shaped like a cat and purring might do the trick.

The last string to sever by foundmywei

canon universe, time-travel, temporary mcd

(18,430 words | Mature | Chapters: 1/1)

“Chuuya!” he shouted, hopping, begging for a reply, even if it was a mindless howl. But no reply ever came. Chuuya’s movements suddenly halted, his body remaining unmoving in the air for a second before it started moving again, limbs turning and twisting in a way a human body shouldn’t allow. The only sound filling the unbearable silence of the night was that of Chuuya’s bones breaking.

Dazai had never thought about what life would be like without Chuuya; a mission gone wrong forces him to find out. Thankfully, he gets a second chance to fix things.

#soukoku #skk #bungo stray dogs #bsd #soukoku fic #skk fanfic

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