#cy writing

[cyber0ma]

i want to be alone [ao3 link]

a small piece of writing i did as vent then wanted to make some art for. full is below, but kudos or comments on ao3 would be soo awesome!!! ^_^ content warnings in AO3 tags.

You said you were unsatisfied — no, tortured — with existence.

One of the last things you communicated still pulses through my circuits. An uncharacteristic tenseness settles into my hydraulics at the memory — terror. "I can't go on like this," I recall.

The "right" response did not come to me then. Feelings are familiar to me, but not to you. How could you process such an emotion? It's unlike you to knock me into speechlessness.

Are you no longer satisfied with yourself? Is it us? Me?

I'm repulsed to see the reflection of my gold-framed visage in what remains of your visor. These feelings of inadequacy are selfish; I'm aware. This thing clawing and tearing at my chest is rejection. It makes me wonder if this emotion is just an inkling of how you felt.

You are my heart. This beating organ inside me, which shares a title with you and little else, does not comfort me. I would wander the deserts of the Earth with you, aimlessly, for all the time we have left. Did you know that?

Without you, is existing worth it at all?

You would find the thought illogical; it was your specialty. "Mon cœur," you would cry, vocalizer wavering with the air of laughter. "Don't be ridiculous."

Any sense of rationale in the situation has gone out the window; however. Your last request was not sensible. And yet, I complied.

I organized the parts that remained of you after you begged for that final mercy. You rest in silence; peaceful, as every part of me wishes to scream and wail. A plate that previously decorated your fingers now rests in my hand. It flexes between my forefinger and thumb. Should I destroy this last keepsake left of you, as you wanted?

The words that I wish I had told you sooner make themselves known to me; a confession. I steel myself and stare back at the tiny reflection in the chrome.

"I couldn't go on without you. I can't."

This is the feeling, torture, you mentioned. I will make a final decision soon, too.

My heart — you and I — have made selfish choices.

[sunshine-zenith]

La vie en rose

Pulling his iCoffin out of his pocket, Spelldon was met with a series of frantic hexts from Val.

KV: CHANGE OF PLANS

KV: DONT COME TO THE GREENHOUSES

KV: For absolutely no re

KV: *reason

KV: Raincheck

KV: Is Venus with you? Just curious lol no reason

Spelldon blinked down at his iCoffin. He was actually heading towards the greenhouses at Val’s request. His boyfriend had pulled him aside before their first class with a charming wink, promising a surprise after school.

It didn’t take a genius to gather that the surprise wasn’t going how the vampire had planned.

--

Just one impulsive emotional vampire, one very fond witch, and entirely too many roses

-

Rated G, 2.4k words, just something quick and fluffy to celebrate the final issue of BT coming out

[madohomurat]

Untitled Edeleth Drabble - 302 words - Edelgard pining

Edelgard can feel herself falling for the professor, and it's terrifying.

A school girl crush is one thing, but it's grown so far beyond that already. Edelgard wants to think of herself as wise beyond her years, considering everything she's been through, yet she can't escape the reality that she's just an eighteen year old girl with a longing for love and approval and joy and acceptance. Hugs and kisses and gentle whispers of positive affirmations.

She leans against the door of her small dorm room, heart thumping, face hot. The professor had found her when she had wandered outside, haunted by her night terrors. Edelgard had been merely standing on the bridge to the cathedral, looking down at the rocky landscape that the monastery resided upon.

She'd heard footsteps, deliberately heavy so not to startle her. Byleth merely walked up beside her and followed Edelgard's gaze out towards the mountains. A silent yet comforting presence. Edelgard wondered if the moment was real, or if she was imagining it.

So she thoughtlessly reached out to touch her hand. As soon as she felt her very real, solid form, embarrassment popped into her mind at the realization of her actions. She made to move her hand away, but she felt Byleth's hand suddenly wrap around her own.

Merely holding her. Edelgard could feel the warmth of her hand seep through the fabric of her gloves. They stood there, hand in hand, until Byleth quietly offered to walk her back to her dorm in that soothing, even voice of hers.

Edelgard looks down at her hand, the one Byleth had held, replaying the recent events over in her mind. It had only been minutes ago that Byleth let go and bid her a good night, but she already misses the feeling of her touch.

[heretoreadmyfics]

Lone Survivor.

Summary: Custard has a hard time letting go

Characters: Custard Cookie iii, implied Pure Vanilla, Rye, and Chili Pepper

This is called listening to Mitski and getting inspired at 1 am

———————————————————————

Custard laid in the soft bed inside of a cookie house- staring up at the ceiling as he thought.

Chili and Rye had got him all ready for bed, and he was supposed to be asleep- it was 12 am. But he couldn’t shake off specific memories.

He hated whenever this happened- where he would think about his old kingdom- his future subjects that never came to be- his… His family. He hated it- he hated it!! Hated it!!

But he couldn’t do anything. All he could do was remember.

Remember the days of the gorgeous castle- remember the days of looking out the balcony and seeing everyone- being lifted from his grandfathers shoulders to see- and how they would tell him that it would all be his. It would all be his, when they’re all gone and he can do things all on his own.

… But they were gone. And he was only 8. He couldn’t do this on his own.

All he could think was how bad of a king he was. All he could think about was the voices of his grandfather and his father-

He missed them.

He wanted to go home.

But he can’t.

A lone survivor when broken to their bare essentials is just a child trying to survive.

[sunshine-zenith]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

“Alright, I know what you’re thinking: well, why not also do your own eye makeup instead of relying on illusions, then? First off, it's, you know. Quicker. Plus it saves me from accidentally jabbing myself in the eye in the morning. And, er…,” his voice trailed off in mortification, “...okay, so, I kinda… suck at putting on eyeshadow.”

“Well,” Spelldon said, “want me to put it on for you?”

--

AKA: Val has only started learning how to do practical makeup recently, and while he loves it, some things are harder to practice that others when you can't doublecheck your work in the mirror. Luckily, his boofriend happens to be an expert in killer eyeshadow

--

AKA AKA: The Lesbians Doing Each Other's Makeup meme, but make it Spellentine

--

5.8k words, Rated T for excessive flirting and one swear, fluff

Spell/Val, beasties Whisp and Val

Happy Countdown to Boomuda Four

[sunshine-zenith]

In their early days together, both professionally and not, Jayce is obsessed with Viktor’s lip mole. It’s charming, attractive, pops when Viktor smiles or pouts, and when Jayce feels like teasing (and thinks he can get away with it), he’ll lean in like he’s going to kiss Viktor on the lips, only to pivot at the last second to kiss the mole instead. Viktor, faking annoyance, huffs lightly through his nose and tries to chase Jayce’s mouth. Sometimes, he does the opposite and turns his head away completely, denying Jayce access to his lips and mole entirely, and Jayce has to chase after him. Jayce loves the mole because it’s seductive and silly in turn, these two professional adults descending into breathless laughter in the middle of their workday as Jayce tries to see how many kisses he can place upon it before Viktor, through laughter, has to remind them they’re working. The perfect target for playful affection

(When Viktor lays unconscious in that hospital bed — when he hangs from the Hexcore’s cocoons — Jayce reaches out to touch it. His thumb brushes against the underside of the tubing that makes up Viktor’s nasal cannula — his fingers trace over it, one of the few features not concealed by the cocoon — Jayce strains to feel a faint rush of air as Viktor inhales and exhales)

—

However, in their later years — after they’ve left Piltover and Zaun alike in the past, the Council and commune still raw wounds that will eventually scab over, scar, and, yes, one day heal — Jayce’s favorite mole is the one under Viktor’s eye. The one the Arcane stole as more and more of Viktor’s skin was replaced with Hexcorization. The one that reappeared only after Ekko was able to crack through Viktor’s armor and Jayce was able to get through to him. A tiny bit of humanity that Viktor didn’t even realize that he had lost and reclaimed until Jayce cupped his face one day, thumb lightly running back and forth across it like Jayce was trying to imprint the texture into memory. It makes Jayce think of what they both lost in themselves and each other, what they had to find again, and he treasures it. Treasures every wrinkle and scar that frames it, the way it draws attention to Viktor’s eyes, even the tears that run around it, and when Jayce kisses it, there’s no teasing, yet no less adoration, between them. He kisses it hard enough it makes Viktor wrinkle his eye closed, and hopes Viktor can feel his forgiveness and apology and commitment

(Some nights, when Jayce can’t sleep and can’t bring himself to wake Viktor up, he brushes Viktor’s hair, brown and blond and even starting to gray, away from his face, just to make sure that mole is still there. He looks at it and thinks “There you are. There you are” — not about the mole itself, but the man it’s attached to)

[sunshine-zenith]

Take My Hand (My Whole Life, Too)

The simple act of a comforting touch.

The near impossible task of accepting it.

The knowledge that the person who touches you just might need that touch as much as you do

(Or— three missing scenes where Vi, Viktor, and Jinx have some Big Feelings around being touched with love)

—

2k words, T for canon typical language, references to character deaths, mental health issue, chronic illness, angst and hurt/comfort

[sunshine-zenith]

You know I'd give you everything I've got (For a little peace of mind)

They were successful, in the end. They brought their cure to the Gray to the people of Zaun, distributing it for free, cost be damned, and making sure it was always readily available in all clinics and hospitals. Jayce and Cassandra constantly collaborated on ways to better her ventilation system to clean out the air pollution, and Viktor had personally designed filters for the water systems to clean up Zaun’s water supply. Viktor was in remission. And yet, Viktor’s lungs would always be scarred.

And yet, every few months, Jayce would catch Viktor smoking.

--

Jayce and Viktor have been married for a decade, have known each other for longer. Viktor still has a hard time accepting the fact that Jayce has chosen him above their original dream. Jayce just wants his partner to be kind to his body

--

T, 4.6k words, established/married Jayvik, future fic, hurt/comfort, canon divergence where Hextech was abandoned between Acts 1 and 2

Fic contains: some swearing, smoking and debates around it, mental health and self worth issues, past terminal illness

--

Inspired by @lisamoony’s Old Man Married Jayvik AU. Please check out her art, it’s a delight