#i am still nursing some bad wrist mojo + have had a bit of a dip in mental health so ill be mia (again.) for a bit

[citrinesparkles]

hi again! austen anon dropping by to say that i've been really busy so i haven't gotten through all of your tim works just yet, but...

"late night" stuck with me because of how much the dialogue made me laugh, especially the sarcasm that comes as a side effect of sleep deprivation! i could totally picture two people going back and forth—and yes timothy, i could also fall into a minor coma. and the reader here was a little TOO relatable with the grumpiness that come with just wanting to fall asleep and being on the precipice of it but having it slip away right at the last second

i love that your writing always feels like peering into snippets of people's lives!

AUSTEN ANON <3 oh my dear you are so delightfully sweet- amazing timing too, bc i've been busy myself and havent been logging in HJDKFHKJSH

omg 🥺🥺 im so glad you enjoyed!! i really love writing little slice of life time moments (as you've probably guessed hfjkdshf) so im so so glad someone enjoys them :)

thank you for this, sweetheart- you have no idea how much it means to me that anybody enjoys any of my shenanigans jdkfjskdf

[ticktockmyclockworkhart]

Tending to Wounds

Here’s some random Kiibouma I wrote and that I’m honestly doubtful is even good... kinda finished it late and lately I felt like I’ve really lost my mojo for writing so I fear this will be really bad but fuck it I’ll get nothing done if I don’t share my stuff

Content Warning: Blood and wounds 

“Ouma! What is that?!”

“What’s what, Kee-boy?” 

Kokichi Ouma grinned knowingly at the robot before him. He crossed his legs and batted his eyelashes innocently up at Kiibo, snickering at the exasperated sigh the gesture earned him.

“You know well what I’m talking about,” the robot insisted firmly as he planted his hands on his hips. 

“No I doooon’t!” The shorter boy insisted, uncrossing his legs to kick them out like a fussing child. “I swear I don’t, Kee-boy! You’re making me feel so duuuuumb!”

Had it been just a few months ago, the kicking along with the crocodile tears that were beginning to well up in Ouma’s eyes would have deterred Kiibo from continuing. Time had passed, however, and even the usually gullible robot could see right through this lie. He wasted no time in humoring Ouma’s act and simply grabbed his left arm, extending the limb so both of them could see it clearly. 

“This!” Kiibo pointed a metallic finger at a very obvious slash through Ouma’s snow-white uniform, exposing skin that was worryingly close in tone to the uniform’s fabric. 

Slowly, Kiibo’s finger went from gesturing at the tear to gently peeling the shredded fabric away from the supreme leader’s skin. Such an action would have been quite the simple task, if not for how deeply saturated the cloth was with blood. The crimson liquid that had dampened his clothes kept the torn fabric strip clinging to Ouma’s skin, requiring a bit more effort on Kiibo’s part to gingerly remove it. 

Ouma’s face quickly contorted from one of bemusement to pain as the air stung the now exposed cut on his upper arm. He couldn’t contain a small hiss of pain as he jerked away from the robot’s touch, shielding the bloodied scrape with a hand. 

“See?” Kiibo stated matter-of-factly, keeping an iron grip on Ouma’s wrist while he tried to yank his arm away. “You shouldn’t leave a wound like that untended!”

“Ugh, I was gonna take care of that myself...!” Ouma growled once he finally wrenched his arm from the metal hand’s grasp. “Dumb robot... let me handle it...”

“If you were so intent on handling it, you would have done so by now,” Kiibo argued, grasping the arm once more, much to Ouma’s chagrin. “Let me see it.”

This earned a pout from the raven-haired boy, but he seemed to have concluded fighting with Kiibo about this was a worthless endeavor. Begrudgingly, he let his arm go limp to allow Kiibo to survey the damage.

“How did this happen?” Kiibo inquired in a voice laced with concern, briefly forgetting the pathological liar he was speaking to. 

“I killed three men and walked away with that as a battle scar!” Ouma chirped instantly with a bright, innocent smile on his face. 

If blood ran through Kiibo’s body, surely all of it would have drained from his face. Ouma tried to suppress a fit of laughter as the robot’s eyes widened in horror. 

“But that’s a lie! Nishishi!”

Kiibo’s shocked expression instantly contorted into an unamused scowl. Ouma met the glare with a mega-watt grin, as if challenging the frustrated robot to scold him for lying. 

Though still clearly disgruntled, Kiibo continued treating the wound without complaint, grabbing a wad of dampened paper towel he had brought along with a first aid kit. 

“Where did you really get it?” The robot repeated himself with a firmer take on the question. 

“Would you believe me if I said there was this huge raccoon tha-“ Ouma was cut off mid-sentence as the damp paper towel made contact with the few scratches, causing him to involuntary hiss in agony.

“Ow!” The supreme leader grew defensive, swatting the hand that held the towel away from his wound. “That hurts, Kee-boy!”

Dramatic as always, tears were beginning to bead in the corners of his eyes. Still, while grossly exaggerated, these were not crocodile tears, and the sight of them briefly stopped the robot in his actions.

“I know, it must hurt,” Kiibo’s voice was suddenly soft and caring, no longer displaying his previous frustration with his classmate. “According to my research, disinfecting a wound will likely sting, at least initially. But cleaning the wound will lower your risks of potential infection and likely decrease the amount of time needed to heal it! So please, may you endure it for just a few moments? I don’t aim to hurt you.”

Ouma only huffed. “Thanks, everything you said was so boring, I totally wasn’t listening,” he cupped a hand over the exposed cuts with a roll of his eyes. “I just know that this hurts and I don’t like it!”

“Please,” the robot persisted, dabbing the towel at the bleeding scrape again, despite Ouma’s protests. “It’ll just be a minute, I swear. I don’t want to cause you any pain, this is just necessary...!”

True to Kiibo’s word, after thirty seconds of the robot trying desperately to clean the cuts while Ouma squirmed and kicked away, he halted. He set the now red-stained paper towels off to the side, then raised his metal hands defensively as a surrendering criminal would.

“Ouma, I’m finished, that’s all I needed to do. I’m sorry to have caused you pain, I really am, but it was necessary. I just need to bandage it, alright?”

The now tearful supreme leader bit his lip and glared daggers at the robot. The flaring pain on his upper arm was slowly dissipating, however, and with it, his anger also went. 

“...Okay, fine,” he grumbled, giving his impromptu nurse the okay to approach again. “But no more painful stuff, Kee-boy! If this hurts, I’m gonna hate you forever and ever!”

Kiibo bit his metallic lip, hoping Ouma didn’t see the flicker of fear in his eyes at the threat of being hated by the leader forever. Picking up the first aid kit and removing a roll of gauze, his straight face returned as he glanced back up at the wounded boy in front of him.

“This won’t hurt, I promise,” a faint glimmer shone in Kiibo’s eye lenses as he tried to display a reassuring smile to the raven-haired boy. “Hold out your arm, please?”

Thankfully, this attempt was met with minimal resistance, and the supreme leader obediently gave the robot his arm once more. Hovering with the bandage roll above the wound, however, a new thought crossed Kiibo’s mind. Something the professor had done when he was small, whenever he had damaged himself and needed repairs. Kiibo remembered the professor’s routine actions during repair sessions as quite the comforting factor that always soothed his younger self, it seemed...

Hence, why Kokichi Ouma yelped when he felt the cold touch of metal against his bare skin, just around his scrape. His head snapped in Kiibo’s direction, shooting him a glare with more surprise than legitimate anger. 

“Hey, Kee-boy, what’re you poking at my arm for? That metal’s coooold!” He whined, kicking his legs. 

Teal eyes met purple as Kiibo glanced up from Ouma’s arm, a soft blush dusting his cheeks as he stared at the leader.

“O-Oh, sorry!” The apology came quickly as Kiibo pulled his face away from the arm. “I was just... um, kissing it better, you know...?”

Surprise turned into confusion, and Ouma’s brow furrowed. Did Kiibo really just say... what he thought he did?

“Wait, you did...” Ouma couldn’t help but snicker. “Am I hearing things, Kee-boy? Or did you just say you tried to ‘kiss it better’?”

“I-I, uh...” the blush on Kiibo’s pale features was most definitely noticeable as he stammered for a response. “Y-Yes?”

“Nishishi!” Ouma clutched his stomach as he giggled. “What am I, four?”

“It always comforted me as a child...” Kiibo muttered shamefully. “I just figured it was... you know, something universally comforting...?”

Ouma tilted his head, observing the robot carefully. A smirk briefly danced across his lips as he opened his mouth... 

And bit down, right onto his own lips.

Keebo screamed as he saw a flash of red from where Ouma’s teeth made contact. 

“OUMA!” He shrieked, voice box crackling as it reached its volume limit. “WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!”

Despite biting his own mouth with all his might, Ouma only laughed wildly, visibly delighting in the poor robot’s extreme reaction.

“Nishishi...! Whoops!” Ouma casually wiped his mouth, scrubbing what little blood was produced away. “Looks like I went and hurt myself again!”

“Why did... I’m...” poor Kiibo was absolutely incredulous, stammering in disbelief as his AI brain desperately tried to formulate a solution. 

“Heyyyy, Kee-boy...?” Ouma simply smiled innocently, gesturing to the new injury on his mouth. “Can you kiss this one better, too...?”

The panic totally halted in Kiibo’s mind. Everything ground to a screeching halt at that question, and the robot could feel his face heating up uncontrollably.

“I... wha...?”