finnures
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Summary
Alastor raises a brow at him.
“What? Afraid of a little dancing pal?” Alastor’s words are teasing, challenging. They do their job splendidly at picking at Vox’s ego.
“Of course not!” Vox sputters. He was a lot of things, a coward he was not. Especially not at something like dancing.
Series
- Part 2 of Radiostatic fics
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“WE NEVER GO OUT OF STYLE !!” : A Study in Love Confessions, Childhood Friendships, and the Emotional Aftermath of Saying Too Much (or Not Enough) by azullumi
Fandoms: 崩坏：星穹铁道 | Honkai: Star Rail (Video Game)
19 Jul 2025
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For as long as you can remember, it’s always been just the two of you — best friends, partners-in-crime, in your own little world. Oh, and your feelings for him... those inconvenient, stupid, all-consuming feelings you’ve sworn to keep buried forever. What you don’t know is that he’s been doing the exact opposite — dropping hints, making moves, trying (and failing) to confess before you catch on. So when the annual sports festival rolls around and you've found that you’re both on the same team, the universe finally decides to stir the pot.
ALTERNATIVELY, put two emotionally constipated high school idiots in love in the same room and let them fail, flail, pine, and maybe... win.
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There is a scrap of parchment he'd created and abandoned all the way back when the two had been attending the Akademiya together. Sometime between then and the first month he has to move in with Al-Haitham, the list gets crossed out, scribbled over, crumpled up, carefully unfolded again, and revised. The working title for his tireless troubles: Ten Reasons You Cannot, Under Any Circumstances, Fall In Love With Al-Haitham.
...And how Kaveh falls anyway.
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It’s too much to take in. She is a quick study, but her eyes burn. Her throat. Her chest. She absorbs the details without listening. Racoon, Rockfort, Europe. A dozen places in between.
‘They wanted you,’ she says, eventually.
Days have passed, weeks. No news of him, but she’s assured he’s well. She stares out of the windows. Is he on the field again? Back out there, facing the next one? Saving the next damsel?
She cannot afford to be a damsel. She turns back to the papers. Names, dates, names, dates, chemical formulas, dates, names, formulas. There are reams of it.
‘How do we stop this?’ she asks, but there is no answer. She is alone in the room. Bass thrums in her ears. It drowns out the whispers. Whispers, whispers, whispers, constantly behind her ears.[Ashley, post-game.]
Bookmarked by finnures
05 Apr 2023
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Summary
Gavin didn’t want to be here. Correction: he wanted to be anywhere but here. The DPSF Winter Ball was a yearly event that Fowler had been forcing him to go to ever since he made detective. And Gavin hated every fucking second of it.
Tonight was gonna go exactly the way it always went. Gavin would drink the free booze. He’d drink the free booze. And yeah? He’d drink the free booze. It was the only way he’d make it through this fucking hellscape disaster of a night each year. It was absolutely, unequivocally the complete opposite of a ‘fun’ night for him.
And fuck, what could make this night worse?
Being seated with Connor the Robot Tincan Android sent by fucking CyberLife.
Fuck his life. Fuck everything.
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Artwork is by the incredible DeviantManiac!