kisskiss--fallinlove - Tumblr blog

[kisskiss--fallinlove]

⋆ Apartment ⋆

STANLEY

“The longer he spends here, the more invested he gets, the more he forgets which life is the real one.”

WARNING: HOPELESSNESS CAUSED BY DEPRESSION. I’m not quite sure how else to word that, but yeah stay safe lol.

WORD COUNT: 1036 [191 EXCLUDING THE QUOTES FROM CANON DIALOGUE]

I'll try once more to convey all this to him. I'm compelled to; I must. Perhaps, well ... maybe this time he'll see.

And I tried again, and Stanley pushed a button.

And I tried again, and Stanley pushed a button.

And I tri-

Stanley only realised he was crying when the instructions blurred and danced on the computer screen, preventing him from reading anything. Tears dripped onto the keyboard, causing a soft tapping noise upon impact. Stanley was sick to death of that sound.

How can I tell him in a way that he'll understand that every second he remains here, he's electing to kill himself?

What was he doing here? What was stopping him from just getting up from this desk and walking away? He wasn't being mind-controlled, not really. His silly fantasies were nothing but distractions, humorous takes on his drab and uneventful life to stop him from having to face the truth. Still, the 'Narrator's' words echoed in his head, giving a voice to Stanley's fears.

The longer he spends here, the more invested he gets, the more he forgets which life is the real one.

Was it his job that was to blame? Even without it, what fulfilment did he truly get from his life even when he wasn't at work? This ridiculous daydream he added to each day was the most exciting thing in his life.

Surely there's an answer down some new path, mustn't there be?

The computer caught his attention once more as new words flashed upon the screen. A new introduction. But this time there was no voice narrating what he would do. He couldn't be bothered with that thought anymore. What happened inside his mind was the only thing he could control, and it was the only thing that seemed to have the capacity give him a hint of happiness. So why should that happiness revolve around a place that made him so miserable?

He pushed the keys again, but this time he wasn't mindlessly following the order upon the screen. His palms slammed on the keyboard before he could fully realise what he was doing, and the frantic clattering sound of every key being smashed at once almost startled him. His own behaviour was starting to startle him. But at the same time, he felt free. He was in control now. Even if he wasn't making a difference, typing gibberish alone in his office with nobody to see his outburst, it still felt like a rebellion of some sort.

He has a job that demands nothing of him, and every button that he pushes is a reminder of the inconsequential nature of his existence.

Those words wouldn't stop ringing in his head. His words. He did this to himself. Put himself through all those various horrible endings, even though he knew it wasn't real. Anything to not be stuck here, at this desk, doing nothing.

He stood up.

And it was easy.

He had free will.

Nothing was stopping him from leaving this office — no, this building.

So he did.

As he walked past his coworkers — who were all very much alive and present in the office — his legs shook. They were so numb he didn't even realise.

His coworkers didn't even look up. Nobody questioned him, or even seemed to recognise his existence.

And before he knew it, he was free. His lips pulled upwards into a subtle grin as he realised how akin this was to one of his "endings." Except there were no doors, no secret codes, no mind control rooms. There was only him.

He entered his small apartment, being greeted by the voice he was always met with after a day of work. The one thing that made him happy.

"You're home early, sweetie! Is everything okay?"

Stanley was about to reply when he realised. He was doing it again. Reverting to this stupid daydream world whenever he was questioning his decisions. He couldn't keep doing this, not if he really wanted to quit his job. He had to find something real to live for.

And he would, he decided to himself. Someday he'd get what he spent his days dreaming of at that desk, and while wasting away in his empty apartment. Someday he would meet someone, and have a real wife and kids. Someday he'd go on wild expeditions into the unknown. Someday he'd quit his job.

Right now, he was tired. He headed straight to the bedroom and threw himself onto the bed. This wasn't the first time he'd come home from work tired — not necessarily because of work, it wasn't as if it consisted of any mental or physical strain — but because of all this questioning. He didn't know why he only lived to push buttons, and thinking about it too much simply exhausted him. He usually slipped back into those daydreams at this point; his wife would comfort him, or one of his boys would tell him about their day and suddenly he'd be forgetting his own worries, caught up in silly preschool drama. They'd watch TV together, eat together as a family. It was all so vivid — not that that made it real, but it was at least the next best thing, he supposed.

His drooping eyelids began to close, but he couldn't just go to sleep now; the realisation of what he'd done was beginning to truly set in. He'd just walked out. And for what? So he could lie in a cold empty room and think about what could have been? Was this the life he was destined for if he quit his job, just existing in this tiny apartment and wishing things were different? Thinking about people who didn't, and would never, exist?

He'd do it someday. It was an empty promise to himself and he knew it, but he had to think it anyway. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, fingers tapping against the keypad. Some nonsense excuse to his boss as to why he'd left work so abruptly — a sudden illness or a family issue, he couldn't remember which he'd chosen. It didn't matter. He was merely protecting his place at that desk.

He'd feel better tomorrow.

[kisskiss--fallinlove]

⋆ Taken Care Of ⋆

KYOYA X TAMAKI

Sickfic, you know the drill. Kyoya wakes up feeling on the verge of death (he has a minor illness), Tamaki insists on taking care of him. Set in the future when they’re both adults with jobs, no specific age, marital status or job clarification so go crazy with your headcanons I guess.

WARNINGS: The illness is unspecified but similar to the flu I guess, if you require specifics. I don’t think an emeto warning is necessary, there’s no vomit but possible slight reference to it?? Pretty easy to miss if that kind of thing doesn’t bother you, but I thought I should still mention it just in case. Pretty vague about sickness overall to be honest.

WORD COUNT: 1340

WILL BE POSTED ON Ao3 AND WATTPAD AT A LATER DATE AND EDITED AT THAT TIME WITH LINKS. THANKS FOR YOUR SUPPORT!!

Kyoya felt awful.

From the second he awoke he was hit with a searing pain in his forehead, which, as he discovered when bringing up a hand to grasp it in a futile attempt to calm the aching, was drenched with sweat. He nestled down into his blankets for a second, allowing himself a moment's relief before he got up to face the day. As terrible as he felt, and as much as he detested waking up this early, he simply couldn't be late for work. The very thought of leaving his bed was daunting — he was already far from being an early riser, but the condition he was in wasn't helping with that in the slightest. Still, he mused with a soft groan, if he didn't get up now he wasn't sure he ever would.

Reluctantly, Kyoya swung his legs out of bed and stood up — only to immediately stumble back onto the bed, vision blurred and stomach lurching. This movement seemed to wake up Tamaki, who stirred beside him with a confused "mrph?"

"Go back to sleep, Tamaki, you don't have to be up yet," Kyoya attempted to assure him, surprised at the raspy voice in which his words were spoken. He didn’t understand. He'd been fine last night, if a little more drowsy than usual, but now the very act of speaking felt akin to swallowing sandpaper.

Tamaki, ever-compassionate and caring for his partner's wellbeing, very annoyingly ignored him. "Kyo, are you okay?" He sat up, rubbing his eyes before looking worriedly at his partner. "You don't sound too well."

"I'll be fine," Kyoya insisted weakly. He tried once more to stand up, but every fibre of his body seemed intent on pulling him back down. "Just ... give me a second."

"You look terrible," Tamaki continued, lifting a hand to press against Kyoya's face. Kyoya couldn’t resist leaning in to the touch. "You feel terrible. You're boiling!"

"It's fine. I don't even feel too warm," Kyoya said, thinking it best to leave out the perhaps more concerning detail that he was, in fact, shivering.

Tamaki removed his hand to instead wrap his arms around Kyoya’s waist, gently yet firmly tugging him further into the bed. "Please come back to bed, mon amour. You can't go to work in this state!"

Kyoya considered it. It wouldn't be right to infect anyone else, he supposed — and he really did just want to crawl back into bed for all eternity (or, until he felt a little bit better at the very least).

"Maybe I should," he finally admitted with a sigh. He climbed back under the covers, practically melting into the comfort of his still-warm pillow as the mattress — Kyoya still had no idea as to how Tamaki had acquired one quite so soft — caressed his aching limbs.

"Good, because I'm not letting you leave this house — no, this bed — until you're better."

"Is that so?" Kyoya responded dryly. He rolled his tired eyes at Tamaki's dramatic declaration, before allowing them to flutter shut once more.

He'd surprised himself, giving in so easily like that. He ought to go back on his decision and find a way to get his work done regardless. He'd worked through illnesses before; it was just what he'd been raised to do, he supposed. But things had been different since Tamaki entered his life — Tamaki would practically force Kyoya to take breaks ever since they were younger, even when he wasn't ill. He didn't quite understand that, and wrote it off as some overprotective nature Tamaki had developed from his own upbringing while caring for his sick mother — but it did help him. Kyoya would feel better after spending time with Tamaki even when he hadn't realised he’d previously been feeling badly at all. On a similar note, Tamaki had filled a gap in Kyoya's life he hadn't known had been there to begin with, so he supposed that was just the effect Tamaki had. Now, he vaguely felt the man in question press a soft kiss to his forehead, the rest of his surroundings an incomprehensible haze as he drifted (quite without meaning to) into slumber.

Kyoya hadn't the slightest idea of how long he'd been asleep, but when he awoke he felt the most well-rested he'd been for perhaps as long as he could remember.

The door creaked open, startling Kyoya. Shouldn't Tamaki be at work by now? What time was it, even?

"I’m sorry, I didn't mean to wake you!" Tamaki whisper-yelled, as though the act of lowering his voice would magically send Kyoya right back to sleep.

"It's fine, I was already —" Kyoya began, then, remembering why he's been so startled in the first place, deflected with, "forget that. What are you doing here?"

"Hm? I live here, silly." Tamaki walked further into the room, revealing to Kyoya a tray he was balancing in his hands. Kyoya was now propped up onto his elbows, looking inquisitively at his partner.

"You're meant to be at work." Shit. Work. He'd completely forgotten in his exhaustion to inform them of his absence.

"I already told them I'm not coming in today," said Tamaki. He must have noticed Kyoya's panicked expression, because he added, "I did the same for you too."

Kyoya frowned. Tamaki seemed fine, particularly given the lack of the dramatics that usually accompanied any illness Tamaki subtracted. "You're not sick as well, are you?"

"No! I just want to take care of you."

That was what Kyoya had feared. "I can take care of myself," he told him with an exasperated sigh. "There's no reason for us both to miss work. I didn't even want to in the first place."

Tamaki let out a fond laugh. "You don't have to be so independent, mon cheri. I'm sure you can take care of yourself, but I want to be here to help. It won't hurt to let yourself be taken care of for once!" He sat beside Kyoya; gingerly, so as not to send the contents of the tray flying. "Now, are you hungry? I thought it best not to bring anything else unless you wanted it, I know how funny you get with food when you're unwell, but I'll make you anything you want. Drinks included — but have some water first, okay?"

As Tamaki continued his ramblings, Kyoya looked properly at the tray for the first time. It was one of the nicer ones they owned; lilac and white china, emblazoned with a beautiful rose pattern. It may well have been Kyoya's favourite, if he were to choose one. Set upon it was a jug of water beside a tall, ice-filled glass, as well as a miniature vase which proudly displayed a singular violet rose. Kyoya smiled despite himself. Trust Tamaki to go all out, even for something so simple as preparing a glass of water.

"You'll have to go back to work tomorrow," Kyoya said, pouring himself some water as instructed. It wasn't as though either of them desperately needed to be in work — they quite obviously had more than enough money to get by — it was the principle of missing work that unnerved Kyoya so.

"It's almost like you don't want me here," Tamaki chuckled.

Kyoya raised an eyebrow, not indulging Tamaki's joke, though he couldn’t help but to inwardly remark on just how untrue it was. "I just don't want you skipping work for no good reason.”

"You're a good reason," Tamaki said, his voice earnest as he handed Kyoya the now-full glass. "I want to be here for you whenever you need me."

Kyoya didn't know how to respond to that (Tamaki could find a way to make anything a grand declaration of love, and though Kyoya loved the fool right back all the more for it, those moments never failed to catch him off guard), so he took the glass in one hand, and Tamaki's free hand in the other.

Tamaki was most certainly going to be in work tomorrow, even if Kyoya had to drag him there himself. But for now he was too tired to argue, so he decided, for once, to let himself be taken care of.

[kisskiss--fallinlove]

⋆𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆!!⋆

UNDER CUT: about me + the blog, my other blogs and socials, my Ao3 + Wattpad, fandoms I write for, boundaries. You can find the divider I used here!!

-⋆-꩜-⋆-꩜-⋆-꩜-⋆-꩜-⋆-꩜⋆-

ABOUT ME + THE BLOG

Hi!! I’m Caspian (Cas), but I also go by Mag online. You can call me whichever — I don’t mind!! I’m an aroace trans male (he/him) from the UK. You can find me on TikTok or Instagram, where I post my cosplays, under the username [dr2un2hine] (for both accounts) if you’re interested!!

This blog is where I post my fanfiction, but my regular, far less organised blog is [@avataroftheglowcloud]!! My blog for posting about non-fanfic literature is [@vampirtism].

I also upload these fics to Ao3 [freaksofnurture] and Wattpad [thermodynamiclawyer].

My current favourite interest is Ouran High School Host Club, and I especially like Kyoya x Tamaki (if I hadn’t already made that glaringly obvious from my blog theme), so expect a lot of OHSHC fics!! I also write for other fandoms, especially if requested. Those fandoms will be listed below!!

FANDOMS I WRITE FOR

☼ Dr Stone

☼ Bungo Stray Dogs

☼ The Stanley Parable

☼ Welcome to Night Vale

☼ The Disastrous Life of Saiki K

☼ Ouran High School Host Club

BOUNDARIES

DMs/interactions - I love talking to people!! Just please keep it SFW, and keep in mind that I won’t DM with anyone way outside of my age range (my age is in my bio). If that applies to you but you’d like to say something to me for whatever reason, such as making a request, I recommend using the ask box!! Tagging me in posts is also fine. :)

REQUESTS - I’m happy to take requests or suggestions for fics to write!! Just keep in mind that I won’t write smut or proship (nor do I support the latter).

-⋆-꩜-⋆-꩜-⋆-꩜-⋆-꩜-⋆-꩜⋆-