It's mostly going to be Touchstarved stuff, alright?

The Touchstarved X Cyberpunk X Spirited Away AU that no one asked for. Initially a gift for @HollytheArtist, but also a submission for the da discord's Valentine event.

Contains: made up/gamified smoking mechanics, Cyberpunk AU with overlapping Spirited Away vibes, Kuras in that double slit dress from BG3, I wrote so much lore and setup just for Kuras to be in that dress. and Reader!MC goofs up so hard and calls him, well you gotta read to know how badly they fumble it lol

Crime, corruption, over-consumption, and capitalism flowed through Night City’s synthetic veins day in and day out, but in the cracks and crevices live creatures of all sorts. 

Lines already blurred between human and cybernetics and hiding the city’s folds and seams were the unfathomable. 

Horns, tails, feathers, halos, inky eyes, sewn on limbs, and deceitful smiles.  Some that whispered to shadows and others that spoke without mouths.

A touch of Fog that persisted around every monster.

Every other.

And then there was you.

------------------

Roaming the crisscrossing, overlapping catwalks that bridged together some of Japantown’s most expensive and populated commercial megabuildings was one of your favorite past times. 

Especially after dark.

The accumulated glow from squat-high shacks to superstructure, fairy lights on vendor stands, headlamps from grounded cars, and hovering vehicles really emphasized Night City’s namesake.

Something tourism adverts, for once, didn’t have to stretch the truth about.

Though some would even say the evenings were ‘otherworldly’.

And the typical tourist would probably agree.

Oh, most would never know how close they were to it and how true it really is. 

If only they could tune to it the way you could....

Featuring: Modern AU, convenience store employee hell, yearning, one-sided attraction, doctor-philanthropist Kuras, Auto-Ship mechanic Ais, exploding coffee machines, mentions of bowling

Sometimes, girl-dinner is the hastily stamped out cigarette hidden under your foot.

Most would say Mondays are the worst. 

But you’d disagree.

Tuesdays took that horrid cake. 

It’s a shame.

Tuesdays used to be your favorite. 

Your favorite snacks to stock at used to come in.

Customer flow was low so it was nice and relatively calm.

And last and foremost, your favorite Doctor-Philanthropist came round. 

You hated small talk, but with him even meaningless pleasantries about the weather took on a different hue. 

You could easily list the things that made him standout.

His pleasant voice. 

Probably the best out there. 

His dry humor. 

His comedic is impeccable and you’ve caught yourself choking back unattractive snorts multiple times.

His natural charisma.  

He stumbles over his words occasionally, which adds to his charm.  But he could talk himself out of a pit if he wanted. (Sometimes it felt like he’d fall into one, just to jump out and surprise you with one-liner or comment for double the effect.)

And he is extremely easy on the eyes.

Like.

Damn.

That combination made it so easy for 2-second polite greetings to slide into minute-long discussions.

In the span of several weekly visits, you realized that you had something in common: an intricate knowledge base for pulpy murder mysteries.

For him, he was simply intrigued by suspenseful crime dramas with predictable plots.

For you, they were a better read compared to the tabloids in the magazine rack next to your counter.

The repetition of formulaic character archetypes, generic world-building, and obvious plot-twists wore thin on your attention span after many hours of paging through B-tier stories.  You knew you’d eventually burn out on the genre, but it was time well spent if it bought you several more minutes with a disarmingly attractive stranger. 

Quadruple the value if your ‘studies’ gained you a pleased smile for your efforts. 

But your sacred Tuesdays had soured.

Instead of your favorite snacks being delivered it had been swapped with toiletries.  The most annoying to inventory.

Instead of having an easy quiet day, an auto-shop opened next door.  Now you were receiving many of their meandering patrons popping in to linger about. The annoying entrance chime goes off a good 70% more.

And lastly-

You’re cutoff by said chime as someone enters the front. 

You feel your shoulders slump as she approaches, but you give her a ghost of a smile in acknowledgement.  She waves to you exuberantly before heading into the back.

Lastly, was the person who had utterly stolen your favorite customer’s attention.  Your new-coworker and protégée.

As you settle your mood into something more neutral, your facade drops the instant you spot a familiar tussled head of dark hair and red eyes in grease-stained coveralls lazily marching his way over through the glass window. 

He smirks when he notices you watching him.

Did you say lastly?

No, he’s yet to walk through the front door......

the one where Kuras is bent over and I avoid using the word 'burrito' because I'm not sure if it's lore accurate

The door jingles as you open it.  You vaguely recall mentioning the charming way your hometown used bells, chimes, or beads at entrances to announce someone’s arrival.

Not that Kuras needed it with his uncanny perceptiveness, but it was an addition you approved of.

“Hey Kuras. I’m here.” Glancing about for the tallest person you know, you bask in the warmth of the tidy operation room.  It takes a moment to get used to the medicinal sulfur smell, but it was nice how well-ventilated and free from dust Kuras kept his place.

“Come to the back room.” Calls a slightly muffled voice from a separate room.

You curiously make your way towards his voice. 

After your last entering-and-exploring-without-invitation fiasco, you’d wait for Kuras to greet you before roaming his building, lest you be at the opposite end his disappointed stare.

So, whatever’s got him occupied must be important. 

You metaphorically puff out your chest. 

You did apprentice under him once. 

For like a day.

Half because he clocked you as somewhat capable.

The other half because he teased/bullied you into doing it.

That counts.

And since he’s seen a bit of your capabilities, then whatever he’s about to request it likely doable.

And if not, it’s Kuras. 

He won’t let you die.

Easily at least.

With that in mind, you have the utmost confidence walking into that room.

What you don’t expect is to see your 6’ 5” crush on all fours, face pressed to the ground cooing to something below his dresser.  His backend raised and facing you. It takes you a hearty few seconds to process this before you decide to look everywhere else.  Oh my, what an interesting ceiling lamp Kuras has.  You should inquire where he got it.......

Continue Reading on AO3:

[On Valentines day in Eridia, a simple gift exchange turns intimate with Kuras~ Oracle!Reader just wants to gift the jewlery they make to their friends (the IL cast) ok?

Oracle!Reader x Kuras

Written as a TS Valentine Discord Gift Event for @artbycourage (sorry homie I'm posting it here hecka late haha)]

There’s an exuberant skip to your step as you bound down towards the clinic. You hum a quiet satisfied tune that reverberates through your chest.

Your satchel bounces against your side, inside a cloth bag filled with assorted trinkets, individually and delicately wrapped in paper, jostle about. Every crinkle was a pleasant reminder of the remaining visits you still had to make.

Twenty minutes earlier you had delivered a rose-gold-tinted hair cuff to Sen. It was embedded it with several small rose-quartz stones that you had in-laid yourself a week ago.

You would have offered to braid another section of her to attach it, but she had rewrapped and pocketed it so quickly and thanked you so abruptly that you held your tongue. 

You were a little disappointed, but the tinted color to her grayed cheeks was rewarding enough.

And you still had 6 gifts to deliver! That was plenty to look forward to.

Temple life made it difficult to appreciate the giving and receiving gifts.

Anything from you was considered a blessing.  Anything for you was an offering. 

There was no in between.

Heck, you could barely go about doing anything without it being interpreted as a gesture of sorts. Brushing a speck of dust off a shoulder or picking a stray leaf from lose hair? That was considered an honor that would bring one of your staff or follower to tears for you benevolence.

Only in your mind could only imagine the joy of adoring someone with something you had painstakingly crafted without any misinterpreted pretense.

But this year, things were different.  You didn’t have to suffer Valentine’s Day with offerings.  You could just give things you liked to the people you liked!

And you quite liked the nifty metal wires and stone bits you had collected over the years and reassembled into personal ornaments......