#it always takes me a while to get into her books
Note
Missing my zombie!steve husband 🫶🏻
quiet day at the camp… hope something bad isn’t brewing… zombie apocalypse au <3 fem, 2k
Steve loves the sound of the river, but he only allows himself a moment to lay down on the riverbank during laundry hours.
You stand knee deep in the water with your pants and sleeves rolled up, the corrugated metal of an old shed roof that’s been repurposed into a washing board held to your chest. It was pointless to roll your sleeves up, you’re soaked to the bone, even your hair, but the summer sun keeps you warm.
“Don’t get too hot!” you call.
“I’m fine,” he says, unwilling to shout.
“He’s fine!” Robin shouts from beside him. “Numbskull.”
Steve stares at you, locking you in, so to speak, the nice shape of your hip and stomach, the mess of your wet hair. Tonight, he’ll help you fix it, but there’s no rush and no hurry to dry off while the sun is out, and the fences are up. He turns onto his stomach. Grass tickles his cheeks.
“You sure you’re okay?” Robin asks quietly.
“Fine. Can you tell me if she needs help?”
“Sure.” He listens to the sounds of her moving, likely pulling the slim lengths of her legs against her chest to hug herself, the tan leaves of a book spread out just in front of her.
Steve could really go for a cigarette. You swapped the last box you found for toothpaste, isn’t that how it always goes? You and Robin found a cheat code in the apocalypse, nicotine with a capital ‘N’. You swap Arctic chewable for socks without holes and boxes of Marlboro’s for the bathroom essentials. Everybody wants them, and you’re great at finding them. Steve never thought he’d crave a cigarette again considering he wasn’t addicted, having smoked for a couple of months in high school to feel cool with his friends, stopping when his mom asked him to. He doesn’t remember why. She’d asked, and he’d listened, as he used to do. Swim team, cross country, basketball, lifeguard training, mowing the lawn, not upsetting his father, taking out the trash, vacuuming, no drinking and driving; task after task after task. Some of it was easy. He liked doing the dishes, and he loved taking care of his mom even if she didn’t feel the same.
Not that it matters now. Does it matter now? He’s never gonna see her again. She’s a memory. She’s a bad memory, most of the time.
The more he reflects on it, he decides. She was a bit shitty, but she’s his mom, and she’s likely gone, so he’ll try to remember the cookies they made together and the way she’d smile at him after she tied his shoelaces before school. And also the mean fucking bitch she’d turn into when she drank two glasses of wine.
“What are you thinking about?” Robin asks.
“That’s the wrong soap,” you say from the river. Your voice floats over the breeze.
“Fuck off, soap is soap,” Eddie says, your not-so-new friend, Steve’s sworn enemy.
“I’m just saying,” you laugh. “Look, I’ll wash, you rinse.”
“I’m thinking about that time,” Steve begins, holding his hand out toward her, open but not expectant, “when my mom and dad came home early from his business trip in Missouri and found us sleeping together.”
“I’d never heard your dad laugh before,” Robin says.
“My mom really didn’t like you after that.” He smiles as she takes his hand. They were a lot more touchy, pre-apocalypse. He misses that sometimes.
“I don’t even think she thought we were dating.”
“She was disgusted.”
“She said we were being weird teenagers.”
“I guess we were. I never had a friend like you before so maybe I can’t blame her,” he says. He has something special with you, you’re a best friend because you’re half of his heart, but Robin was his first proper best friend, and remains it. “I missed you a lot when we were stuck in Indiana. There were a ton of times where shit would go wrong and I would get mad at you because I knew you’d know how to fix it, but you weren’t there.”
“You’d get mad at me?” Robin asks, squeezing his hand. “You jerk. Be mad at yourself.”
“Can you wait for me next time?” he asks.
Robin’s quiet, then she laughs, “I’m nodding but you can’t see.”
He wonders how she’s feeling. He admits to not doing that much in the past. Not that he didn’t think about how he made others feel, he was always worrying about that after Nancy, but he can’t say he thought of it in the moment. Steve forces himself to sit up and offer his arms for a hug, which Robin gladly accepts, her frazzled laugh on his neck as he pats her back.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“You know Y/N says I’m possessive?”
Robin leans away, fingers curled around his elbow. “You’re fighting?”
“No, just. She says I’m possessive, that I get mad about, you know, my people.”
“Right. Isn’t everybody?”
“I never thought I did. I’m not, like, too proud most of the time.”
“Steve, this is super introspective,” she says, frowning, smiling, a weird expression somewhere melding in the middle of happy and concerned. “Are you sure you’re okay? It’s fine if you’re not.” She laughs shrilly. “I woke up the other day and cried and then ten minutes later I felt fine. I’m far from okay.”
Steve glances past Robin’s head to watch you in the river. You’re sitting down amongst the stones. It really isn’t too deep, water to your ribcage washing suds down to Munson, who’s smiling at you kindly, not smarmy or flirting, just smiling.
“Why did you cry?” he asks quietly.
“I missed my cousin, I think.”
Steve curls his arm behind her head and encourages her in for a fiercer hug.
“Think we should probably go help them,” she mumbles.
He takes it for the brush off that it is; sincerity is too much to take, sometimes. If she wants to be evasive about it that’s okay, she already took the leap and admitted to getting upset.
“I cried thinking about Y/N’s hands the other day,” he says.
“Steve.” Robin rubs her eye with the heel of her hand. “I don’t even know what to tell you.”
“What? I’m trying to show you I’m pathetic so you don’t feel bad.”
“I know you’re pathetic, and I don’t feel bad.” She climbs off of the ground and brushes broken grass off of her legs. Steve climbs up next to her, nudging her with his elbow. “You’re mucho pathetic. It’s kind of crazy.”
“I think I might try and drown him,” he says conversationally.
“Why now?”
“Why do you think?” Steve asks, toeing off his shoes and peeling off his socks, nearly pitching forward on the wet bank closer to the river.
You and Eddie look up as they approach from different spots of the water. Your smile at seeing him winds him for the thousandth time, just so happy to see him, so in love with you he doesn’t even know what to do for a few seconds. “Hey, honey,” he says, “can I help?”
“Now you wanna help?” you ask, gesturing to your soaked front.
You’re messing with him, and he doesn’t care anyways, you can talk to him like crap if you want to. He shuffles down from the mud of the riverbank and into the water, cold and wet like a shock against his ankles, softer as it climbs to his knees. You’re sitting where it’s more shallow, opposed to Eddie on his knees and almost drowning further down. He puts his hand on your wet shoulder and kneels down in the water beside you. “Wanna hug?” you tease.
Steve hugs you. Doesn’t care that you’re soaking or that the water is freezing against his crown jewels, though he shivers by your ear, prompting your laugh like bubbles in his own. “It’s cold,” he says.
“Freezing!”
Not to be a freak, but he can feel your chest pressed to him, and he knows you get achy in the cold. He wraps his arms doubly behind your back and rubs at your sides. “How much laundry’s left?” he asks. “We’re gonna get hypothermia. Again.”
“You didn’t get hypothermia,” you remind him, folding into his space. “Steve… is everything okay?”
“Do I look mopey today? Robin just asked me the same thing.”
“You don’t look mopey, but you’re being touchy. You’re cuddling.”
“How am I not supposed to cuddle you, dummy? I’m keeping you warm enough to function right now. Without me you’d be an ice cube floating down the river.” He leans back to hold your face in one hand, your cheek under his thumb, water racing down his wrists and your neck.
You push against his hand gently with your cheek.
“Sorry,” he says.
“What for?”
For lots of things. “I didn’t realise how cold the water was. I would’ve come to help you.”
“It’s fine. I scrub everything and then Eddie catches it. We’ve only lost one pair of underwear,” you say. “The river’s like a long washing machine.”
“How much do you have left?” he asks.
“Nothing. I was just about to get out.”
“Couldn’t have told me that before I came to get you?”
“No,” you say, lifting your chin. Not challenging, but close. It’s an offer, Steve decides, kiss me or don’t kiss me. You don’t seem to realise he doesn’t decide, he needs you. If you always wanted to kiss him, you’d always be kissing, all the time, everywhere.
Steve gives you a quick peck. “Come on, let’s go set up the line.”
You somehow, together, make your way back to the tents without freezing to death after throwing your clothes on a drying line between trees. It’s warm enough that stripping down to your skivvies is mildly pleasant (away from the eyes of the other campers). You get dressed in the softest clothes you own upon Steve’s insistence, sweatpants and a dark hoodie, three pairs of socks and the tent door left open, before he lays you down on the sleeping bag, and settles between your legs, his full weight bearing down on you, his face nestled in the damp crook of your neck.
“I couldn’t kiss you the right way,” he confesses.
“Why?” You pull mildly at the ends of his hair.
“‘Cos I always want more than one kiss.”
“That’s a strangely romantic way to say you wanted to make out with me,” you whisper.
“It’s not like that,” he insists, even though he does want to, and he did in the river, and he does all the time.
“You’re getting kinda heavy, Steve,” you mumble.
“What?”
“It’s a good thing.”
“How dare you.”
“We got sorta frail for a bit.” You wrap an arm around his head, tip of your nose to his forehead.
“Yeah. Lucky we’re in camp Eddie now,” Steve says.
“I never thought I’d hear you say that,” you murmur, so close to sleeping Steve can tell. You just need a feeling of security to nudge you over the edge.
“Lucky we’re together.” He climbs off of you slowly so as not to rouse you too much, kissing your slack cheek as he settles on your shoulder. “You and me. I don’t care where we are.”
He ends up falling asleep not long after you, lulled by the rhythm of your light snore.
#steve zombie!au#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington scenario#steve harrington drabble#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfiction#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things x reader
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Since you’re taking requests could you please do one where it’s R and Leah’s like 3 year anniversary or something and R plans out a nice surprise but Leah forgets and shows up late which upsets R a lot. Something angsty but with a happy ending 🤭
You forgot?
Angst (Happy ending), some fluff
-
“You forgot? You fucking forgot?! Are you shitting me right now Leah?” You scream at her, hands out.
“Baby I’m sor-“she tries.
“No! You don’t get to call me that right now. Just drive.” Leah sighed and pressed down on the pedal.
-
“Happy anniversary baby girl” You whisper to Leah, her eyes fluttering open at the light kisses being left all over her face.
“Mmmh” she grins and turns to you, pulling you in for a proper one. “Happy anniversary” she whispers, smiling brightly at you and then leaning in to kiss you again. Your kisses turn heated and end in some passionate morning sex, causing you both to run a little late, but you both didn’t care, claiming it had to be done to celebrate your third anniversary. Since you were now running late you had agreed to give each other your presents later tonight.
“Darling, meet me there at 6:30 okay? I’ll text you the address so you can pop it in your phone” You peck her lips, walking to the other side of the garage to get in your car.
“Babe please tell me what it is” she whines.
“No can do my love, it’s a surprise just wait and see” you grin, lowering yourself into your car.
“Ughhh” she groans, getting in her own car. You turn and give her a wink through the window as you reverse out of the garage, and you catch her rolling her eyes. You honk loudly at her, and she winds the window down.
“I better not have just seen you rolling your eyes at me missy”, she smiles guiltily but proudly, “Alright then, no more celebratory sex for you” You give her a smug grin and wind your window up.
“No baby wait!” Her calls fall on deaf ears as you roll out the driveway.
-
You text Leah the address once you arrive at work, along with some teasing words. The address included just the street name, and you had told her to meet you in the car park, still wanting the element of surprise for your final destination.
Your day flies by and before you know it, it’s time to leave for the restaurant. You had booked in Leah’s favourite, it was a 6-month waiting list and a lot of sweet talking, but you knew it was all worth it for your girl. After dinner, you planned to take her to the place you two first met, a local pub in Milton Keynes. You first encountered the blonde when you and your best friend were forced to share the dart board with her family, and it all skyrocketed from there. You thought it’d be a nice idea to take her back there, even though the two of you regularly went with Leah’s mum, you thought it’d be a special idea for today, just the two of you.
You changed into the outfit you had brought to work. A long black dress, with a slit down the side of the right thigh. It was Leah’s favourite dress of yours, and every time you wore it, it always ended up being almost ripped to shreds by her at the end of the night. You jumped in the car and quickly texted Leah, “Leaving now xx” before driving off. When you arrived at the restaurant you checked your phone to find your message unread. You didn’t worry too much, assuming she must have been driving on her way. You waited a while longer however there was still no sight of the blue-eyed girl. It was nearing a couple of minutes past your reservation when you decided you were going to have to go into the restaurant, knowing you’d lose the booking otherwise. Once you were seated at the table, you checked your phone—still nothing. You decided to call her, however, the phone rang out to her adorable voicemail that she hadn’t changed in 6 years.
After another 30 minutes passed and all you received was radio silence from Leah you began to worry. You knew she wouldn’t intentionally stand you up, you had been together for three years for god's sake. So, with that in mind, worrying thoughts began to run through your head. Had she been in an accident? Stabbed? God where the fuck is she! After being told by the hostess that you had already occupied an hour and a half of your two-hour booking you decided to call some of the Arsenal girls as they would’ve been the last to see her.
“Y/n? Is everything okay?”
“Lia! Oh, thank God! I’m sorry to disturb you but I was meant to meet Leah over an hour ago and I haven’t heard from her. Do you have any idea where she is?” You rambled into the phone, receiving a few strange looks from the surrounding tables.
“Oh um, Leah!” she called out,
“Yeah?” you heard your girl on the other end of the phone,
“Y/n is on the phone; you were meant to meet her?” Lia responds,
“Fuck fuck fuck shit fuck!” Is all you hear, and you can instantly tell the Milton Keynes twang in her cuss. “Baby god fuck I am so sorry, the girls were all going out for drinks and I completely lost track of time” She tried to reason through the speaker. Your worries instantly faded but anger fuelled inside of you. The phone bruised your hand as you gripped it.
“Where. The fuck. Are you?” You quipped, tight-lipped.
“Danny’s bar, babe I’m sor-“, you hung up on her not wanting to hear the pathetic reasoning for her absence. You hurriedly exit the restaurant, sincerely apologising, not before they pull you back and force you to pay a hefty fee for the time. You pay and angrily storm to your car, driving straight to the bar where Leah is. Once you arrive you stride in, instantly spotting or rather hearing the loud group of girls. Katie calls you over and you happily waltz towards her, still in your dress. You don’t spot Leah at the table.
“Your girl is at the bar” Katie slings an arm around your shoulder,
“I don’t care” you reply, taking her drink and chugging it down.
“Finally, someone who wants to have a bit of fun!” Katie exclaims, “I’ll get us some shots.” She winks.
“Put it on Leah’s tab” you shout after her as she heads to the bar. At the sound of her name, Leah turns around to find you sat at the table. Her eyes widen and fear washes over her face. She swallows and begins to walk over to you slowly. As she goes to sit down you all but look at her and slide your handbag to reserve the spot next to you, “taken”. You still refuse to face her. Leah knows better than to plead with you now, not wanting to make a scene, so she allows you to ignore her. She nods and walks around to the other side of the table, opposite you.
-
As the minutes ticked by, more alcohol went down your throat. You were slightly tipsy at this point. Leah had still not spoken to you, as you refused to acknowledge her, but you could feel the burn of her eyes on you all night.
Before you knew it, everyone was starting to twinkle their way out, tipsy goodbyes being shared around. Leah, who had still not quipped a word, followed you to your car. Having been driven there by Lia, and also knowing you’d had far too much to drink to drive yourself.
You both walked silently towards the car, you with an extra rage in your step. When you made it to the door you pulled out your keys. The car squeaking noises back and forth as you kept locking and unlocking the car. Leah grabbed your hand to help, and you pulled away, hard. “Baby just let me help you unlock the car”, she pleaded.
“One, don’t call me that. Two, I don’t need help.” You scoffed, continuing to tumble with the buttons. Leah sighed, not bothered to argue with you. Once you finally got the car unlocked you headed to get into the driver’s seat before Leah grabbed your wrist to stop you.
“Oh no no, you’re not driving” She states.
“What? Why?” you reply, outraged.
“Because you’ve had too much to drink, go to the other side”. You huff, sulking to the passenger side of the car.
-
The beginning of the drive was silent, until your mind began to sober up, and begin wondering.
“You can sleep on the couch” You quipped to Leah.
“What! Why?” She squeaked back.
“Why do you think!?” You began to raise your voice. Leah pulled over to the side of the road, knowing this could get a little messy.
“Y/n, I’m sorry, It just completely slipped my mind, I completely forgo-“
“You forgot? You fucking forgot?! Are you shitting me right now Leah?” You scream at her, hands out.
“Baby I’m sor-“she tries.
“No! You don’t get to call me that right now. Just drive.” Leah sighed and pressed down on the pedal.
-
When you returned home, you marched upstairs, slamming the bedroom door. Leah remained downstairs and sighed at your loud actions. She knew she fucked up and she also knew she wouldn’t get out of this one easy. So, she began assembling everything she’d need to make it up to you.
-
“Baby?” Leah knocked softly at your bedroom door. She was met with silence. “Baby? Can I come in?”. Silence again. Leah decided to softly open the door. Attempting to squeeze through, but struggled due to her current clothing, and accidently pushed the entire door wide open.
She stood there, a little embarrassed, head to toe in a pumpkin costume, flowers in hand, and a small trolley that looked like she had stolen from her little cousin behind her. She smiled softly and awkwardly. You had to stifle back a laugh, covering it with a small cough at the sight. You remained silent.
“I’m sorry, I really am” she whispers. “Let me make it up to you?” she smiles softly, lifting the flowers. You couldn’t stay mad at her little face enclosed in her pumpkin hat. So, you softly nodded and smiled. She smiled brightly and practically ran to you.
-
You both lay in bed naked, sat up against the headboard, Leah’s costume tossed on the floor, her arms around you, your back to her front. The trolley of food is empty, and the smidges of melted chocolate are still visible on both your bodies. “You’re a twat you know?” You turn your neck slightly to turn up and look at her. She smiled down at you.
“I know” she frowns.
“But you’re my twat” you smile. She laughs at your absurd and cheesy words.
She leans into your lips softly smiling, “That I am”.
-
A/n: First time writing in a few months! Hopefully this is okay and everyone enjoyed :)
As always, kind feedback, along with any questions, discussions, and convos are always welcome in my inbox!
#leah williamson#awfc#leah williamson x reader#leah williamson imagine#wlw#woso#woso community#woso fanfics#woso one shot#lionesses
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✧ ˚ · . 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐅 —
. . theodore nott x
reader ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
SYNOPSIS : maybe theodore nott isn't the best boyfriend. but he is rather observant, isn't he?
⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔹
warnings! :
none :)
theodore nott and acknowledging the little things <3
.ೃ࿐ 🎞️
〰️
"i'm thinkin' about reading this new book," you spoke, your hands absentmindedly running through theo's ruffled hair in the way that you knew he loved. "mia told me it was good. my friend, remember?"
you really didn't want to bother him much whenever he seemed on the brink of sleep, but theo always insisted that he loved it whenever you talked while he was tired. he said it helped him fall asleep, which you couldn't deprive him of, so, late at night, propped up against your headboard with his head on your torso and his arms wrapped around your middle, you rattled off meaningless details about your day, from how you were a moment late to lunch, to that there was an ache in your left leg. sometimes, he responded, other times, he didn't, and you never pushed him to, either.
"the one who keeps holding you in class?" he muttered, and you huffed a laugh. since you'd developed a friendship with mia, you fell victim to talking a lot in class and getting held behind for extra work. theo loved complaining about it, too.
"yea." a soft smile tugged at your lips. "it's called 'the book thief'. from what i've heard, it sounds pretty good."
much to your surprise, theo seemed to wake himself up, drawing his head from your torso and instead, lightly resting his chin there. you peered down at him, a question in your eyes, but he spoke before you could.
"what's it about?" he asked, his eyes darkened in the dull light of the lamp on your bedside table. you breathed a laugh, skepticism creeping across your face.
"since when have you ever shown interest in what i read?" you inquired in return. often, you told your boyfriend about the books you were reading, and though he avidly listened, he never really asked about it much. below you, theo pursed his lips, face scrunching in what you couldn't guess the meaning of.
"since mia started giving you recommendations," came his reply after a bit of thinking. "why are you asking anyways? are you implying that i'm dumb 'cause i don't read a lot?" he sent you a sarcastically skeptical face, to which your mouth fell open to in mock surprise.
"i would never," you scoffed as if he was crazy for even thinking it. he kept that same look on his face for what felt like eternities until your hands reached out to tug the corners of his mouth into a smile. though he let you, each time you retracted your fingers, his mouth would drop back into that frown. "so difficult," you muttered with a laugh. theo tilted his head to the side.
"so?"
giving up, you dropped your hands at your sides and looked away, thinking back on your earlier interaction with your classmate and what she had said about the book. "i'm pretty sure it's about this german girl... something about her moving to a foster home 'cause her mom's on the run. takes place during the holocaust." your eyes strayed back to his own, which were intently assessing your face. you grinned. "why do you care, seriously?"
theo propped himself on his elbows, leaning up to kiss your lips. "can't care 'bout my girlfriend's life anymore, huh?" you giggled when he peppered your face with tender pecks, his lips soft and warm on your skin.
"answer the question, teddy." you poked his side, turning your head to the left so he could no longer kiss you. he sighed through his nose, leaning back again and shrugging as best as he could in his position.
"i dunno. i wanna talk to you," he uttered, and your laughter died, your smile blooming even further. you couldn't help but love him even more in those moments, your heart so full you felt it might explode inside your chest. "be part of your life more."
"you already are," you reassured, tilting your head to the side and reaching a hand out to run your fingers through his hair once more. he hummed his approval, resting his head on your torso the way he had before you had interrupted his sleepiness.
"okay. continue, please," theo stated against your clothed skin, hands gripping the hem of your shirt. you smiled.
"alright."
two weeks later.
〰️
the first thing you felt when you woke up was a chaste kiss against the skin of your forehead, shifting, and cold air. you struggled to open your eyes, still weak under the weight of sleep. theo's voice pulled you out a bit.
"gotta get to class, mi amore. i'll be back soon," he said. you hummed a small acknowledgment, not bothering to say anything more before you shifted below the sheets and faintly heard the door click open and closed.
an hour later, and you were sitting up against the headboard, yawning and stretching and rubbing the sleep from your eyes. the clock on your bedside table told you it was 8:03 am. still too early, but breakfast was calling to your empty stomach. you looked to the side, upset that theo was gone and expecting the sheets to be completely empty. they weren't.
a few inches from your thigh, was a thin, rectangular box. a present. it was wrapped up in a sort of newspaper design, tied with a red ribbon. calling to be opened. tentatively, you twisted your body, tucked your legs underneath you, and picked up the gift. it was cold and stark in your hands. not wanting to ruin the intricate paper design, you carefully unwrapped it, mind whirling to a bunch of different thoughts. today wasn't anything special. you couldn't think of a reason theo would gift you something, but then again, he did love buying you things without you even asking. was it even from theo?
your breath caught in your throat once it was all opened, a smile blooming on your lips. a copy of the book thief. it was— he even went with the color scheme to simply wrap it up. faded newspaper and red. you huffed a laugh, opening it up, and what was on the inside surprised you even more.
'turns out mia has good book taste.' he had read it? there was 525 pages in the book, and he read all of it. for you. flipping open the pages, what you found baffled you just further. he had left notes, as well, little annotations across the pages, with words like 'this made me think of you', or, 'we should do this together'.
mia had good taste, indeed.
.
doing this instead of studying 💪💪
#harry potter#theodore nott#theo nott#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x slytherin!reader#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott x you#katiasworks#theo nott fic#theo nott fluff#theodore nott fluff#theonottsmut#theo nott rec#theodore nott fic#theodore nott smut#theodore nott fanfiction#theodore nott fanfic#theodore#💼:: katiasworks
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ᡣ𐭩 I, CARRION
FEATURING: beast dazai osamu
SUMMARY: the day of the event has arrived and dazai is second guessing everything, but it's too late for him to back out now.{wordcount: 12k; fem!reader; romance & tragedy}
AUTHOR'S NOTES: PART FOUR wow guys we're really getting into the meat of the fic now. HAHAH this is the chapter i had to split into two parts, initially it was going to be one big one but then it would've been a whopping 23k words and that's a bit much even for me. i didn't want to cross the 20k realm HAHAHH. anyway, this chapter really was a pleasure to write, the second scene was my favorite but the ending was SOOOO close to usurping it
GENERAL WARNINGS: again, i'll just leave this warning on every chapter - dazai struggles a lot with disassociation/derealization & losing himself in the pages of the book. as always please let me know if i forgot any warnings
SEE: UNREAL UNEARTH SERIES MASTERLIST
READ: BADLANDS SIDE A
“Gin-chan, I’m so nervous.”
You pace around Dazai’s penthouse anxiously, twisting your fingers in front of your body. The event is taking place tomorrow night. You still don’t have an outfit for it—Dazai told you not to worry about it, you’re still worrying about it because what does that even mean? You don’t know what to expect from the event, and Gin is evasive when you ask her about what will happen, just keeps telling you that it’ll be fine as long as you stay with Dazai.
“There’s no reason to be nervous,” Gin says, as she always does, still tapping away at her laptop. Glasses hang off the bridge of her nose and there are dark circles beneath her eyes. You feel a bit ashamed about constantly going on about your nerves when you know damn well she, Dazai and all of the other executives of his company have been working nonstop the past few days trying to finish preparations. “Dazai-san will be with you the whole time, and if he has to talk business, someone will sit with you until he can get back so you’re not feeling awkward.”
Somehow, you think that might be even more awkward because you doubt a random person is going to want to babysit you while Dazai is busy, but you don’t voice your thoughts, instead just withering as you circle the large room for the sixth time in the past five minutes.
You’ve hardly seen Dazai all week. You don’t really mind, you know he’s swamped with work and you’ve been keeping yourself busy going out cafe hopping and shopping. Gin comes with you when she can, but it’s usually Nakajima Atsushi or Tachihara Michizo that joins you—Gin had introduced you to the two security guards a week ago when she’d been too busy to come with you to a cafe downtown. You don’t mind the company but you can’t help but wonder why Dazai is so insistent that someone comes with you.
Well. You can’t help but wonder about a lot of things, really. You’re pretty certain that Dazai is still hiding something major from you. You don’t know a lot about business, and you especially don’t know anything about his business, but something isn’t right. You’re not stupid and everyone is not as slick as they think themselves to be, you see how tense and anxious people get when you mention him to them, more so than the average worker would be at the mere mention of their boss, and everyone in the entire damn building is armed, even though they clearly try to hide it whenever you’re in the area.
You and your friends have joked about the uber wealthy before, and how no one above a certain tax bracket obtains their wealth without some sort of blood money; you’re about 99% sure that’s what’s taking place here too, and it would certainly explain all of the secrecy. More so than trade secrets at least, you feel a bit dumb for that to have even been an explanation in your mind. You just don’t know the specifics. You don’t know if you want to know the specifics, you think you’d prefer to remain ignorant because 1) you definitely don’t want to have any sort of culpability, not when you’re on path to graduate school and hopefully a very prestigious job with the government, and 2) … you don’t want to face the reality of what that would mean.
You like Dazai. More than like him. You’ve been slowly coming to terms with the fact that you really, truly care for him, and if you end up learning the… specifics of his job, then you’re going to be forced into making a decision you don’t want to make: preserving your future and morals or risking them for him. And you’re not going to sit around and claim to be some upstanding, virtuous person. You’re not. But you are ambitious, and you’ve had your mind set on your future since you learned how to pick up a pen and write. You’ve worked your entire life to get where you are now, slaved your way through a prestigious undergraduate school in Japan and spent months preparing for the entrance exams for graduate school, only to what? Throw it all away for some man?
God, you almost feel sick. Distantly, you wonder how awful of a person you must be for the threat to your future success to be the main reason why you’re questioning yourself, and not the fact that it’s very likely that Dazai and his conglomerate have some sort of business with Japan’s underground, maybe even direct dealings with the mafia itself.
You pause from where you’re pacing around the room, eyes widening a bit as another realization hits you. You had thought it was odd that Dazai and Gin and all of the executives of the conglomerate have been so stressed and anxious over an event that they’re not even hosting, but what if… Your throat spasms a bit as you swallow, wondering if Dazai is about to bring you not to an event hosted by their rival, but to an event hosted by the mafia. You don’t think he would put you in danger like that, you don’t want to think he would put you in danger like that and you wonder if you’re just sending yourself down a spiral of unnecessary paranoia.
But it doesn’t make sense. Dazai is enamored by you, and you don’t think you’re being conceited by saying that because he has made it abundantly clear. There’s no way he would ever put you in danger like that. Not unless… you feel a bit green remembering his reaction to you saying that you’d go out on your own and stay with your friend the weekend of the event. You could feel the anxiety radiating off of him for a split second before he asked you to come with him. You also remember how he always makes sure someone is with you when you go out, and god, you swear you’re not a conspiracy theorist but nothing is making sense when you look at it through your rose-tinted lenses but looking at it through these lenses. The lenses of a man who is obviously smitten with you, and who might have dealings with the mafia—of course he wouldn’t want you to go out on your own because he’d be scared that you might be targeted as a means to get to him.
Oh, you feel dizzy. What have you gotten yourself into?
“Are you okay?” Gin is looking up at you, brows furrowed in concern. “You look a little sick.”
“I’m fine,” you say, but the words sound pathetic even to your own ears and you know Gin doesn’t believe you from the way she tilts her head to the side to study you.
Luckily, you’re saved by the bell. Literally.
Your head snaps to the side as the elevator dings, and ordinarily, you would be ecstatic because who else would be coming up to the penthouse besides Dazai and while you’ve certainly missed him over the past week with how busy he’s been, you’re not sure if you’re ready to see him right now with the way your thoughts have just spiraled, because you think you might blurt something out that you can’t take back.
But, for better or for worse, it is not Dazai that enters the penthouse.
“Good morning, ladies,” a familiar voice croons as the elevator doors slide open. Your eyes light up as you whip around, eyes falling upon a face you haven’t seen in almost two weeks. “I come bearing gifts.”
“Albatross!” you say, excited, a smile splitting your face, because yes, even knowing about the possible affiliation with the mafia, you’re still excited to see the blonde—he’s never been anything but sweet to you, and he’s really the only one besides Gin and Chuuya who doesn’t treat you weirdly because of your relationship with Dazai.
“D’aw, look at it, Lippmann, told you the doll would still remember me,” Albatross grins, dark glasses hanging on the bridge of his nose as he tosses you a wink and then looks back toward the elevator.
Your gaze follows his, and your eyes fall upon a vaguely familiar person stepping out of the elevator and into the penthouse, carrying a few boxes. Pale hair cut into a bob, a pretty, androgynous face, dressed to the nines in a light purple waistcoat and matching pants—where have you seen him before? Wait-
“You’re-!” you begin, eyes wide and lips parting in shock.
“Walter Lippmann,” the man greets you with a kind smile and soft eyes, you feel a bit flustered, you can hardly meet his gaze. “Everybody just calls me Lippmann though.”
You try to speak, but you’re a bit starstruck—the last thing you’d expected was for a movie star to step into the penthouse. You’re looking between Albatross and Gin and then hesitantly back at Lippmann as you try to figure out what’s going on.
Albatross cackles. “Looks like she’s gotta crush, Lippmann. Better not let the boss find out, he’ll get jealous.”
“Albatross,” you complain, hands flying to cover your hot face. “Not true, I’m just surprised. Am I allowed to be surprised?”
“Yeah, sure, doll, that’s it,” Albatross says, clearly not believing you at all as he throws himself onto the couch next to Gin, looking up at you. “The boss asked us to pick up a dress for you. Go try it on, I’m going to raid his liquor cabinet while you do—if he asks, you better take the blame.”
You see Gin roll her eyes. “You will not raid his liquor cabinet, Albatross,” she says firmly, but the man only winks at her.
You turn your attention back to Lippmann, who’s carrying the dress in a garment bag, a shoe box tucked under his other arm. He gives you a small smile and then motions for you to follow him; you’re still starstruck as you follow him into Dazai’s bedroom, pointedly ignoring the way Albatross snickers.
You watch as Lippmann hangs the garment bag up on the closet, placing the shoebox down on the bed. He turns toward you after and says, “Try it on and make sure it fits properly. And make sure you like it.”
You nod, lips parting to speak but no words leave your lips. You look up at the garment bag, down to the shoes, and back to Lippmann and then you ask, “How do you… how do you know Dazai?”
Lippmann gives you another gentle smile, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. You notice, a bit curiously, that he seems to take a moment before he speaks, as if choosing his words carefully.
“I knew Dazai’s father,” he says after a few seconds. “I work with the Mori Corporation sometimes regarding press and political matters. Like a spokesperson when Dazai is unable to.”
Hm, you think to yourself before nodding, a movie star as a spokesperson for a corporation, that’s a bit odd, isn’t it?
Your brows furrow slightly as you try to fit the new knowledge in with all of the rest you’ve put together over the past few weeks but it’s just another jagged puzzle piece that’s not fitting in anywhere.
“I’m a huge fan of your movies,” you finally tell him, rubbing the back of your neck as you toss him a sheepish smile. “Like, no joke, almost cried when you had your discussion panel for The Good Society three months ago because it was two days before my entrance exam to grad school so I couldn’t go.”
Lippman laughs, pale cheeks flushing as he looks down at the ground before back up at you. “Honestly, you didn’t miss out. The whole panel was a mess, and the AC broke twenty minutes before, so it was ridiculously hot.”
You don’t really know what to say to that, cursing the fact that you are 1) still half dazed on top of 2) already being naturally awkward, but Walter Lippmann is Walter Lippmann, so of course he knows just what to say and do.
He nods to the dress that he hung up on the closet. “Try it on and then give us a show,” he says, winking at you before he makes his way out of Dazai’s bedroom back into the other room with Albatross and Gin.
You sigh when you’re alone again, tilting your head up to look at the ceiling for a moment, wondering what your life has become before you make your way over to the dress. You unzip the garment bag, curious to see what Dazai had picked for you, and your eyes shoot open when you see the red gown within the bag. Smooth and silky, off-the-shoulder, it’s probably the most expensive thing you’ve ever laid your eyes upon; you feel like you shouldn’t even touch it, much less put it on.
But Lippmann and Albatross and Gin are out there waiting, you can hear them talking through the door, so you force yourself to gingerly pull it off of the hanger, careful to not be too rough with the material. It doesn’t take you too long to get your clothes off and the dress on, but when you do, you can hardly bring yourself to move away from the mirror.
You look beautiful. You do. The dress is a perfect fit, it compliments your skin, it compliments your hair. You look beautiful, but you feel like a fraud, like a clown in a ball gown, hoping that the beauty of the dress would draw attention from the fact that it’s not meant for someone like you.
You don’t know how long you stand there, staring at your reflection. Too long, evidently, because you hear a sharp knock at the door and Lippman’s concerned voice asking if you’ve gotten the dress on.
“Yeah,” you say quietly. “I’m dressed.”
You hear the door to Dazai’s bedroom creak open but you don’t turn to look.
“I think this costs more than my student loans,” you breathe out, staring at yourself in the mirror. You smooth your hands over the silky material, eyes catching the way it clings to you perfectly. “God, where the hell did he get something like this? It’s like it was made for me.”
“Probably was,” Lippmann says from where he’s leaning against the doorframe, lips quirked up into a half smile as he tosses you another wink. “Perks of dating one of the richest men in Japan.”
You let out a noise caught between a whimper and a laugh, suddenly feeling very, very out of place.
Lippmann clearly catches your sudden change in attitude and his brows furrow. “Do you not like it?” he asks curiously. “There’s plenty of time for him to send for something else.”
“No, no,” you hurry to say, voice catching. Although you’re unsure how twenty-hour hours constitutes ‘plenty of time’, but you digress. “It’s perfect. It is.”
“What’s the issue then?”
“I just…” you trail off, eyes lingering in the mirror. “I feel silly, I guess. How obvious is it that I’ve never worn anything like this before?”
“Silly?” Lippmann asks, amused, peeling off the doorframe to make his way over to you. You swallow thickly as he straightens your posture and then uses two fingers to make you raise your chin. “You look stunning. Like a woman who belongs on the arm of the most influential man in Japan… Like a woman who doesn’t need to be on the arm of any man.”
Your face feels a bit hot as you let out a puff of laughter. “Now you’re exaggerating.”
“I certainly am not,” Lippmann says firmly, taking a step back. “You’re only getting in your head. From what Chuuya has told me about you, you’re more than suited to outwit and outclass anyone in attendance at that event.”
Your face feels hotter now, smiling as you roll your eyes. “Flatterer,” you say, but you feel a bit better, chest lighter as your gaze turns back to look at the mirror. “... Do you-”
A sharp whistle from the door draws your attention from Lippmann; there’s a lecherous smile on Albatross’s face as he leans against the frame and looks at you, glasses hanging off the bridge of his nose. “Damn, if you weren’t the boss’s girl…”
Gin slaps him hard on the back of his head, glaring at him before turning a small smile to you. “You look beautiful,” she says softly. “He’ll be speechless when he sees you tomorrow.”
Your throat feels tight as your lashes flutter, a smile on your lips as you look down at the ground. Even though the concerns of your realizations from before still weigh heavily in the back of your mind, you can’t help but feel a bit giddy at the thought of seeing Dazai tomorrow.
The giddiness is long gone.
You still haven’t gotten dressed.
You’re sitting at the edge of Dazai’s bed in your bra and panties, staring at the wall with your knees pulled to your chest. Your dress is hanging on the closet on the far side of the room, heels sitting on the floor beneath it. You’ve done your makeup and you put your earrings on already—pretty, dangly diamonds that are the most expensive thing you own, the last thing your brother gifted you before he cut you off entirely. You need to be getting dressed, Dazai will be up here any second to pick you up to leave for the event, but you just can’t bring yourself to put the dress on, anxiety eating away at you.
It’s not even because of the realization you’d come to yesterday, it’s because you think you’re about to make a fool out of yourself. Even if you’re wrong about the theory that you might be heading into an event hosted by the mafia and their associates, you’re still heading into an event that’s going to be attended by people who are much wealthier than you, and you already feel out of place and you’re not even there.
The dress is beautiful, but you think you’ll look like a clown in it, everyone will know that you’re not from the same sector of life as them with a single glance. Lippmann’s words from yesterday are in one ear out the other now that you’re closer to the actual time of the event.
You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t even hear the bing of the elevator arriving at the penthouse, and you don’t notice Dazai until he pushes open the cracked door to step into the bedroom. And you feel like you should be embarrassed sitting half naked on his bed, rather than being dressed and waiting for him, but you can’t muster it, eyes dragging up from the wall to land on his concerned expression.
And he’s a sight, you think. He’s so handsome. Absently, you think he might be more handsome than the last time you saw him but you think that’s a bit ridiculous because he hasn’t changed at all. He’s wearing the same long black coat and burgundy scarf, but the sleek, dark suit he wears beneath it is different, more expensive than all of the others that he’s donned the past few months you’ve known him.
His lips are turned downward as he approaches you, placing a blue box down on his dresser, dark eye soft with concern, and you also can’t help but notice that he still wears the bandages around the upper left side of his face, covering his eye. You want to know what’s beneath them desperately, but you can’t bring yourself to ask, hoping that he’ll show you on his own terms.
He stands in front of you, and you rest your chin on your knees as you stare forward, staring at his abdomen instead of looking up at his face. But he doesn’t let your gaze linger there, bringing his right hand to cup your cheek so he can gently lift your face upward, forcing you to meet his eyes. You can feel the rough edges of his bandages scraping against your skin, and you instinctively lean into his touch. You try to remind yourself of all of the realizations you’d come to yesterday, tell yourself to not be as at ease with him, at least have some semblance of your guard up, but you fail.
“What’s wrong?” he asks you softly, letting you lean into his touch as he brings his other hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Are you okay?”
And you feel selfish, you realize, as you try to figure out what to tell him. You can’t even fathom the amount of money he spent on your dress and the shoes, and here you are being a baby because you’re self conscious. You don’t even want to reply to him, so you try to turn your face away but he doesn’t let you.
“Tell me,” he says quietly. “I’ll fix it, whatever it is.”
“It’s silly,” you finally breathe out, averting your gaze to the ground as you let your eyes flutter shut, turning your face in his hand to kiss his palm before leaning back into it. “I’m being a baby, I’m sorry.”
“It’s not silly if it has you upset,” Dazai tells you, and he kneels down in front of you to catch your gaze again and briefly, you think it’s absurd that you have such a powerful man at your whims like this, kneeling before you, willing to do anything to make sure that you’re content and happy. It makes your throat swell a bit, those inferior feelings rising back to your chest with a vengeance, because what the hell did you do to deserve this? There’s nothing special about you. “Tell me what’s wrong, let me help.”
“I just don’t understand.”
Oh my god, your voice cracks, you can feel your eyes go a bit misty, and instantly, Dazai’s concerned gaze is narrowing, as if trying to calculate what exactly is the source of your distress so he can remove it, and it only makes you want to cry more because what did you do to deserve all of this?
If you’re right about all of the assumptions you made the other day, and Dazai is bringing you to this event even though by all means he should not because there’s likely going to be a lot of shady business occurring that could incriminate him and all of the other people at this event, then why? Why would he risk that just for a girl he met a few months ago? You can’t fathom it.
God, you know better than anyone the effects imposter syndrome can have on a person in school, but the last thing you expected was to be dealing with it in love too.
Love, the word makes your stomach churn because you do love him, you realize, as he stares up at you desperately trying to figure out what’s wrong so he can fix it. And how scary is that, considering only twenty-four hours ago you came to the realization that he’s very likely involved in the underground, in some way or another, and you had to come to terms with the fact that you’d have to choose between your future and a man. But he’s not just a man, he’s a man that you love in spite of everything you’ve put together.
A tear spills over your cheek and Dazai’s gaze becomes alarmed as he instantly wipes it away with his thumb before caressing your cheek gently.
“What don’t you understand?” he presses quietly. “Talk to me.”
Where do you fucking start?
You want to cry even more but you force yourself not to, you can’t afford to let your makeup get anymore messed up than it already is. Instead you sniffle a bit and try to blink away the tears.
“This,” you finally say, and your voice cracks again, you take a wet breath. Dazai’s lips part a bit, as if he wants to speak but he’s not sure what to say, brows furrowing. “There’s nothing special about me, Dazai, and I don’t understand why you’ve gone to the lengths that you have for me. Meeting me at that club every Friday as if you’re not always swamped with work, indulging me whenever I want to do things. You gave me a place to stay after only knowing me for a few weeks, gave up your own room, your own bed, so I could be comfortable while you slept at your desk. You’ve made sure people are always with me so I never get bored or lonely. You’ve given me literally everything I could possibly ask for and I’ve just been freeloading off of you for two and a half weeks now. Now, I’m going to go with you to this event and end up embarrassing you because I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb compared to everyone else there. They’ll know I don’t belong there and I just-”
You cut yourself off, and you want to avert your gaze from Dazai’s but you can’t bring yourself to. Instead, you watch as something akin to amusement flashes through his eye. He takes one of your hands into his and brings it up to his lips, eye sliding shut for a moment as he kisses your knuckles. You let out a shaky puff of air as his lips linger for a moment before he looks up at you again through his lashes.
“Let me help you get dressed,” he murmurs, and you look down at the ground now as you nod, letting him help you to your feet and lead you over to where the dress is hanging up on the closet door.
He pulls it off the hanger and guides you into it, pulling it up and adjusting it so that it covers you properly. He steps behind you, and you realize that he also has you standing in front of the floor length mirror set up on his closet door. You sniffle a bit again as you look at yourself in the mirror.
Your makeup looks a bit smudged beneath your eye from the tears gathering at your lash line, but somehow, you still look beautiful. You think it’s only because of the dress, the way it clings to your body so nicely and brightens all of your features. You take in another shuddered gulp of air when you feel Dazai begin to zip up the back of your dress slowly, each brush of his fingers against your skin lights your nerves on fire, and once he finally has it zipped to the top, he kisses the nape of your neck, hands falling to your hips to caress them gently. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean back against him, his comforting hold settling your turbulent emotions.
“I met you at the club every Friday because you were the only relief I had from reality,” he finally says, resting his forehead on your shoulder as he holds you. “I indulged your requests because I was indulging in you myself. Every moment I spent with you, I allowed myself to be Dazai Osamu, the person, and not the… Not what I’ve had to become to keep this organization running.”
Your breath catches, lips parting at his words but no sound escapes them. He kisses the nape of your neck one last time before he moves to stand in front of you, kneeling down again as he grabs one of your heels and undos the buckle. You watch with bated breath as he lifts your left foot from the ground to kiss your ankle before sliding the heel on, deft fingers fasting the clasp.
“I gave you a place to stay because I was selfish and I wanted you around more,” he sighs, resting his forehead against your knee now as he lingers there for a moment before moving on to repeat the process with your other foot, kissing your ankle and slipping the heel on. He continues, “Likewise, I have kept you surrounded by people because I have been desperately afraid that you’re going to get bored and want to leave because work leaves me little time to be around. Unfortunately, I’m not the generous person you’re making me out to be, I’m horribly self-serving and greedy, especially when it comes to you.”
He looks up at you now from where he’s kneeling in front of you, gaze searching your face. You want to reach out and cup his cheek, so you do, and immediately, he’s turning his face to kiss your palm just as you’d done to him before letting his eye slide shut as he leans into your touch, as if basking in it.
“I would give you anything you want,” he admits softly, keeping his gaze shut as he holds your palm against his face. “Anything. And if it was something outside of my reach, I would make it in my reach. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, no lengths I wouldn’t go to and no lines I wouldn’t cross.”
You think your lungs might be burning, you don’t think you can breathe as you stare down at him, heart thudding in your swelling chest, tears building in your eyes again but this time not out of insecurity. Dazai finally rises to his feet after placing one last kiss upon your knuckles, and he doesn’t say anything as he makes his way over to the dresser where he’d placed the blue box.
You don’t move, watching as he opens it and pulls something out before making his way back over to you, standing behind you. He looks at you through the mirror as he lifts his hands to place a glittering diamond necklace upon your collarbone. You can’t breathe again, you realize, it’s cool against your skin and you think it might be the most expensive thing you’ve ever laid your eyes upon, dozens upon dozens of white diamonds shimmering in the mirror in front of you. Your skin feels like it’s on fire as his fingers brush the nape of your neck as he clasps it onto you.
“You are beautiful,” he says, voice so raw that you almost shiver at the intensity of it. His fingers brush your hips as if he’s afraid to touch you. “You are beautiful, and intelligent, and everything I have ever wanted. You deserve so much more than me, more than you’ll ever be able to understand, and I’m sorry that I’m not a good enough man to do what’s right and let you go. The last thing you should ever be doubting is this.”
His eye slides shut again as he lets out a soft puff of air, the warmth fans across the back of your neck and you think you could spend forever in this moment with him, wishing that you could freeze time.
“You said that you thought it was fate that brought us together,” he finally finishes, voice quiet as he references what you told him the first time you met. “Don’t ever doubt your place with me. Wherever I am, you belong, whether it’s a club, or an apartment, or an event.”
“I thought you hate the idea of fate,” you say, voice a bit choked as you try to force the tears back again.
“I do,” he affirms, “but if fate brought us together, then far be it from me to deny the one thing in this world that has ever made me happy.”
You love him.
You feel sick to your stomach—be it from butterflies or the implications of the realization. The words threaten to burst from your lips but you swallow them, instead, another tear trails down your face and he sees it through the mirror, lifting his hand to wipe it away before leaning a bit over your shoulder to press his lips to your jaw.
“I’m ruining my makeup,” you rasp, letting out another shaky breath.
He smiles against your skin.
“You’ll be beautiful still,” he murmurs before pulling back, admiring you for a moment before he asks: “Are you ready to go?”
You nod. “Yeah,” you say, a bit breathless. “I’m ready.”
“Everyone is staring at us.”
You’re not wrong, exactly. As soon as the two of you had entered the room, all attention was sent your way, and though the music was loud enough to drown out most chatter (intentional, of course, so unsavory ears can’t overhear even more unsavory dealings), Dazai couldn’t help but notice the hush that spread through the room at the sight of you. The boss of the Port Mafia with a date on his arm was certainly a sight to behold to all of the rest of the occupants of the event hall,.
“Can you blame them? You look beautiful,” he says, voice laced with a teasing edge that is certainly not matched in his expression. Dazai knew people would be looking at you if he brought you here. Still, he wants to gouge their eyes out.
His arm tightens around you as he tucks you into his side, cold gaze sweeping across the massive event hall. At least two hundred people are attending Nabokov’s event—an even mixture of pharmaceutical tycoons, technology barons, politicians and mafiosos.
At first glance, he recognizes four different mafias in attendance.
Mishima Yukio of the Sun and Steel stands by one of his associates, the president of Mitsubishi Chemical Group; the man’s dark eyes card over Dazai with lazy interest, before his head tilts to the side as he studies you.
Dazai thinks that the Sun and Steel might be the Port Mafia’s only allies in attendance, and even then, allies might be taking it too far. The extent of Dazai’s dealing with Mishima was a general agreement to not encroach the Sun and Steel’s monopoly over the narcotics industry—which Dazai never intended on doing anyway because the industry is far more trouble than it's worth—and an unspoken promise to protect Japan’s underground from foreign mafias.
Dazai wonders if that unspoken promise still holds or if the Russians have cut a deal with him.
Nabokov’s Pale Flame, obviously, is in attendance, along with the remnants of Leo Tolstoy’s Three Deaths. Tolstoy himself is sitting at the bar, a glass of whiskey in hand as he leans back on the stool, gaze focused on you. Nabokov is off to the left, making his way across the room to greet Dazai, a curious expression on his face. Dazai recognizes Cao Xueqin of the Red Chamber sitting near Kitazawa Michihiro of Fuji Electric, one of the Port Mafia’s closest associates; and Dazai thinks that might be a bit foreboding, both because of the presence of the Chinese and the company he’s keeping.
Dostoevsky’s House of the Dead is nowhere to be seen, but Dazai knows that they’re here. Somewhere. He just has to find him—and he will.
More eyes are on you than him, and although that was to be expected, Dazai can’t fight the doubt that suddenly swirls in his chest, wondering if he’d made the right decision. If you hadn’t been on people’s radar already, you definitely are now, and the thought makes him a bit sick to his stomach. He tries to console himself with the fact that this was the lesser of two evils—the mere chance of you being on the radar of any of the mafias in this room, no matter how slim it might be, was not something he could gamble with. There was no way he could let you go out alone and unprotected. People like them, people like him, would jump on the chance to take advantage of the weakness and he couldn’t let that happen.
But is this really any better?
He’s thrown you into a pit of snakes, and you’re ignorant to all of the threats around you. His gaze drifts back down to you, catching the way your brows are knit together slightly, the way your lips are pressed in a thin line. There’s an indecipherable look in your eyes as your gaze shifts over the room, and Dazai wonders if you know more than you’re letting on. That’s another scary thought, but he can at least find comfort in it for now because it’ll have you keeping your guard up around these people. He’ll just have to deal with the consequences later.
He dips his head down to your ear, speaking quietly before Nabokov finally reaches him: “Just follow my lead, you’ll be fine.”
The look you shoot at him is nothing short of withering, and Dazai can’t help the smile that curves at the corners of his lips as he lifts his head back up to subtly brush his lips against your temple. He catches sight of movement from the corner of his eye and any softness that might’ve been visible in his expression washes away instantly.
“Dazai,” Nabokov greets, beady eyes flickering between you and Dazai, partially curious about you and partially nervous about Dazai. Dazai tilts his head to the side, becoming increasingly more unamused the longer Nabokov’s gaze lingers on you. “I’m glad you came. I wanted to apologize for not being able to attend our planned meeting a few months ago.”
“So I heard.” Dazai’s voice is short and distant, more focused on the feeling of you tucked into his side than the conversation at hand. He has to force himself to keep his gaze steady on Nabokov, wanting to look down at you, but he contents himself with letting his hand slide down to your hip, rubbing absent circles against the silky material of your dress.
Nabokov fumbles over Dazai’s clipped response, a bead of sweat gathering at the corner of his forehead. He wishes he could peer into your head and see what you’re thinking, about him, about this, about everything. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to get through the night without you realizing who he is, what he is, and that thought scares him because he thinks that maybe he should have been the one to explain it to you, so he could at least try to paint himself in a better light. Although, he’s not sure what sort of light would make anything about him look better.
“Who is this?” Nabokov finally asks, turning his attention toward you. Dazai doesn’t like the way he looks at you, eyes raking over you like you’re a piece of meat.
“My partner.” To Dazai’s credit, his voice is much smoother than the turbulent emotions in his chest would suggest. “Where is your wife, Nabokov?”
Nabokov doesn’t even respond to the question, laughing loudly. “Never thought I’d see the day you found yourself a lover, Dazai,” he chuckles and then holds his hand out to you. “Vladimir Nabokov.”
You shift a bit to take his hand, but Dazai is faster, lithe fingers wrapping around Nabokov’s wrist in an agonizingly tight grip. Nabokov winces, Dazai’s face is cold as he stares down at the man.
“Keep your hands to yourself,” he warns, keeping his voice low.
Vladimir Nabokov. Invitation to a Beheading. An ability that grants its user to draw a target into an interdimensional space through physical touch—Dazai isn’t sure what the space entails because no one has ever left it alive.
Nabokov tries to laugh it off, weaker this time as he takes his hand back and shakes out his wrist. “My, Dazai, possessive, aren’t you?”
“Very,” Dazai agrees idly. “Be sure to remember that.”
Nabokov gives him another wavering smile, and Dazai can’t help but wonder how Dostoevsky could have possibly thought anyone would believe the man could head the tripartite alliance of the Pale Flame, Three Deaths, and the House of the Dead. Anyone with half of a brain would know that Dostoevsky is behind their union. Maybe that’s what he wanted, Dazai notes absently as he watches Nabokov’s gaze flicker to the upper left corner of the room. Dazai follows it to where a camera is positioned, encompassing most of the event hall.
The smile on his lips is nearly as chilly as the air-conditioned room around him.
There you are.
Dazai’s gaze cuts back to Kouyou, who’s standing a few feet behind you and Dazai with Chuuya, Ace and Piano Man. The woman inclines her head in recognition of his silent order as she fans her face lightly, taking a step away to make a call to Hirotsu, who should be stationed around the building with the rest of the Black Lizards by now, prepared to move in at the first sign of danger.
Nabokov looks as if he’s going to speak again, which inclines Dazai to believe that he’s seeking something out in particular for Dostoevsky, and from the way he keeps glancing at you, Dazai assumes it has to do with you. So as the man's lips waver, eyes darting as he tries to formulate another conversation opener, Dazai speaks before he can get the words out.
“If you don’t mind,” he says, voice cold and clipped as he all but dismisses Nabokov, who flushes a bit, nodding and apologizing before stepping away.
Dazai realizes that he probably has not prepped you enough for this event, but in his defense, he’s been swamped with his own preparations and how is he supposed to prepare you when he can’t even fully explain all of the dangers? But now, it’s making him anxious, because at some point tonight he’s going to have to step away from you to meet with Nabokov in one of the backrooms, likely with Tolstoy, Cao, and Mishima. Dazai’s executives will have to be there with him, and Tachihara is supposed to slip from the shadows to join you while you wait for his return, but there’s likely going to be at least a good two to three minutes where you’ll be alone until Tachihara can get to you. That’s assuming he doesn’t get caught up on the way over.
He needs to talk to you, at least warn you about the ability users attending the event so you don’t accidentally stumble into a potentially lethal situation without him around.
If he goes to the bar, Tolstoy will take advantage to try to sweep you into a conversation, picking up right where Nabokov left off. If he goes off to the left side of the room, Cao will make his way over to interrupt. If he goes off to the right side of the room, Mishima is there. The only place… Dazai inhales as his gaze focuses on the massive dance floor of the event hall, dozens of couples are spinning around already, and it will be loud enough there for the music to drown out his conversation with you from unwelcome listeners.
He turns his attention to you, holding his palm up and tucking one arm behind his back as he asks lightly, “May I have this dance?”
Your eyes widen a bit in surprise, seemingly hyper aware of all of the hungry, curious glances of the other attendants directed your way, but he’s only focused on you, and the way your eyes glitter beneath the chandelier’s lights, and the way your dress clings to your body, and the way a soft smile tugs at your lips. He thinks that even if you hadn’t entered the event on his arm, all of the room’s attention would be on you still, because you’re beautiful, and captivating, and Dazai doesn’t think he’ll ever understand how he managed to pull you in one lifetime, much less all of them.
You place your hand in his and Dazai guides you across the floor, intent on finding the perfect space. It’s hardly obvious the way that the other people on the dance floor would inch away as the two of you passed by, intent on staying out of Dazai’s way and letting him have whatever space he wants, but you pick up on it, he thinks, seeing the curious look in your eyes as your gaze sweeps around the people around you. He bites back a sigh, because he’s sure that you’re tallying everything up in your head trying to put it all together, and once you get that final puzzle piece, everything will be over.
His chest sinks at the thought of losing you, but he forces it away. He has to focus on the situation at hand because even a single slip up could be fatal—not only for him, but for you too. As soon as he reaches a suitable spot on the dance floor, he tugs you a bit closer to him, hands sliding down to your waist. Your own arms instantly come up to loop around his neck as you look up at him through your lashes and Dazai suddenly feels breathless, vision tunneling and heartbeat stuttering at the way you look at him.
God, how is he supposed to focus with you around? He can hardly concentrate on anything but you. He’s flying too close to the sun. Has been since the moment he met you. Drawing you into his life and keeping you there, now bringing you here, so many gambles, too many gambles… the heat is scorching, and it’s only a matter of time before his wings burn. If he was smart, he’d let you go so that you don’t burn with him, but his fingers only bite deeper into your waist at the thought.
The music is slow, and the two of you sway in tune to it. The other couples give a wide berth, some casting wary looks at Dazai, ones that he’s sure you’re catching. He doesn’t know where to start, or how to start; what does he tell you that doesn’t condemn him? Luckily, he doesn’t have to start the conversation because you do, for better or for worse.
“Was that man the rival that Gin mentioned?” you ask curiously, and Dazai can’t help but notice there’s a strange look in your eyes as you ask it, one that he can’t place.
He hesitates, but then says, “No. He wasn’t. I haven’t seen him yet.”
You hum lightly, fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck in a way that makes him shiver. But his eyes narrow when he realizes that you don’t look the slightest bit surprised by his answer.
“You knew that already,” he accuses lightly, and he forces himself to swallow the lump that suddenly forms in his throat because if you figured that out on your own already, what else have you figured out? God, he knew this was risky, you’ve always been ridiculously perceptive—he just needs to get through tonight without you putting everything together, then he’ll be fine.
“I suspected it,” you finally affirm his accusation, gaze searching his face. “He was nervous talking to you. If he was your rival, I’d expect him to be a bit more… assured. And he kept looking up toward a camera, like he knew someone was watching that he’d have to answer to.”
Oh, you did pick up on a lot more than he expected. He doesn’t think that the smile he gives you quite meets his eyes, if the way your brows furrow have anything to say about it, but he distracts you by bringing his hand up from your waist to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your bottom lip as he murmurs, “That’s my girl, always so smart.”
Your lashes flutter as you avert your gaze, a tell tale sign of you being flustered. His lips quirk up into a more genuine smile, hand dropping back down to your waist. He can do this, he tells himself, he just has to be careful, tell you enough to make sure your guard is up and you know to at least some extent that the people in this room aren’t to be trusted.
“There are a lot of ability users in here,” he finally warns, careful to keep his voice low even with the music covering his words. “Do your best to keep your distance from people. I’ll stay with you as much as I can, but I’m going to get pulled away sooner or later. Chuuya or Piano Man will stay with you when they can, and if they’re pulled away, Tachihara is going to come down to stay with you.”
“... That’s why you didn’t let him shake my hand,” you say, realization flashing through your eyes, another puzzle piece fitting behind your eyes and Dazai has to be careful because it’s only a matter of time before you’re given that final piece and everything comes together. “What’s his ability?”
“... Nothing good,” he answers after a few moments of silence, but you’re not content with that, brows furrowing. He sighs. “No confirmation on it, we only know it’s lethal. Many are in here.”
Your eyes widen and then you look a bit skeptical. “And you think they would use it here? In public?” you ask slowly.
To Dazai’s horror, it is not skepticism tainting your tone, but rather, you’re fishing for information, trying to put more pieces together, and he doesn’t have much choice but to give you answers because he can’t risk you setting your guard down even for a second.
He chooses his words carefully. “... There is little they wouldn’t do to get ahead in our business.”
“Hm,” is all you say in response, something akin to understanding flashing through your eyes and Dazai dreads to know what his answer has just told you. He feels distinctly like he’s playing chess against an opponent he did not anticipate and he’s at a disadvantage because the opponent is you. He can feel your shoulders slump suddenly, an unfamiliar expression crossing over your face; you look tired, as if you’d aged twenty years in a matter of seconds. “What did you get me involved with, Dazai?”
You say it so softly that Dazai barely hears it himself, and he knows. He knows that you’ve figured something out, he doesn’t know what and he doesn’t want to know what. He wants to evade it as long as possible, because the moment he has to have this conversation with you, he knows he’ll lose you. He can’t think about that now, it’ll throw him off and this is the last place he can allow himself to be thrown off.
Instead, his grip on your waist tightens again, gaze averting down toward the ground.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. The words weigh heavy on his tongue, not just an apology for tonight but an apology for accepting your offer for a drink two months ago, knowing he wouldn’t be strong enough to let it be a single night of indulgence; an apology for seeking you out again afterward, knowing that he would be sentencing you to death.
He feels sick.
What is he doing?
Why are you here?
What has he done?
“Dazai.”
You say his name but Dazai hardly hears you. God, he can feel it happening, where his fingers are pressed against your body, the skin suddenly goes cold and stiff, his surroundings are blurring, the people fading into the background. This isn’t the place. Nabokov. Tolstoy. Mishima. Cao. He can’t lose himself, not now, but his grip on reality is starting to waver, the pages pile around him.
“Dazai.”
What has he done?
Everything he’s planned for, seven years of careful calculations and planning gone down the drain. How does he even fix this? Can he fix this? His mind races, but he’s not even sure he’s thinking coherent thoughts, trying to ground himself to the present because he needs to stay here, he can figure out how to fix it later, when you’re not in danger but-
His vision swims. Not now. He can see it—he can see you. Still on the ground. Sometimes there’s blood, so much that he can hardly recognize you (but he can, of course, he can always recognize you, even when your body is littered with more gaping wounds than not). Sometimes it looks like you’re sleeping, so much so that Dazai kneels next to you, begging you to wake up (he knows in his heart that it’s futile. he can’t stop himself from trying). His head spins, he loses track of where he is and then-
“Osamu.”
His breath catches, gaze zeroing in on you. You. Alive. Your brows are furrowed in concern, searching his face to try to draw him back to reality. He thinks his grip on your waist must be painful but he can’t bring himself to loosen it at all. He stares at you, still desperately trying to keep himself grounded because although you’ve brought him back mostly, the corners of the pages still linger in the edge of his vision, threatening to consume him again.
“You can’t leave me,” you tell him quietly. “You brought me here. I need you here with me. Don’t go off somewhere I can’t follow.”
Oh.
He lets out a breath, slow and maybe a bit more shaky than he would’ve liked, but he tries to focus on the situation at hand. He loosens his grip on your waist, rubbing a gentle circle over your hip in an apology.
His gaze drifts around the room, Nabokov is in deep conversation with Cao, hardly paying attention to anything going on, but Cao’s sharp, dark eyes are pointed over Nabokov’s shoulder, scanning the dance floor. He’s looking for someone—not Dazai, which is a bit worrying, and he becomes all the more attentive to everyone in the vicinity, trying to make sure none of the Red Chamber’s assassins made it through the security. If any organization would be able to pull it off, it would be them.
Once he’s decided the coast is clear, he turns his gaze back to the bar. Tolstoy is looking at him—blue eyes sharp, blonde hair hanging in them, a curious expression on his face as he sips at his drink and watches as Dazai dances with you. As soon as Tolstoy notices Dazai has caught him, his lips curl up into a smirk and he raises his drink. Dazai’s expression is cold as he looks away, seeking out Mishima only to find the man nowhere to be found.
Hm.
Chuuya and Kouyou are entertaining idle conversation with two executives of the Sun and Steel, both keeping a sharp eye on where you and Dazai sway on the dance floor. Piano Man is entertaining several politicians, doing a good job at ensuring that none of the other foreign executives get any chance to get their ears. Ace, Dazai notes, is in deep conversation in the shadows with one of the executives of the Three Deaths.
Interesting.
He finally draws his attention back to you, a small smile on his lips as he recalls what you’d said to drag him from his spiral.
Osamu,
“You called me Osamu,” he murmurs, a warm feeling spreading through his chest as he focuses on that instead, trying to ease himself back into reality. Technically, he’s heard you say his given name before. Well. Not technically. It was never you and it was never him, rather it was vague memories of other yous and other hims, but it was nothing in comparison to hearing you actually say it.
You look embarrassed, averting your gaze. “I didn’t know how to get your attention, I’m s-”
“Say it again,” he whispers, lifting his hand back up to your chin to tilt your face back up, forcing you to look at him. His eyes search yours, watching the way you can hardly hold his gaze. You look hesitant, so he continues with, “Please.”
“... Osamu,” you say again, breathless, and god, Dazai wishes the two of you were anywhere but here. He wants to press you back against his bed, run his lips up and down your body, map out all of your curves with his hand. He wants to watch you come undone on his tongue and on his fingers—he wants you, he wants you more than anything else in the world. Every time he’s tried to take the next step with you the past few weeks, he either got interrupted by work or he ended up getting cold feet, nervous about making a mistake.
Before his thoughts can spiral even more, the music picks up to a faster paced waltz. Your eyes widen, watching as all of the other couples shift into the respective dance. You look up at him, a bit panicked, clearly not sure what to do, and his lips curl up in amusement, beckoning you to lace your fingers with his to take the stance the other couples were taking.
“I don’t know this da-” you begin, voice hushed.
“Just follow my lead,” he repeats the same words he spoke to you when they entered the hall. “You’ll be fine. Trust me.”
You exhale, studying his face for a moment before sighing and mimicking the stance the other women took with their partners. He can feel your fingers wavering against his as he interlocks your fingers and he rubs his thumb over the back of your hand soothingly.
“Keep your eyes on me,” he tells you, just as the music finally picks up for the dance to start.
He thinks you’re worried for nothing. You moved smoothly in line with him and in tune with the music, gliding across the dance floor as if you’ve danced with him hundreds of times before, your body so in sync with his that the two of you put all of the other couples to shame. Not that any of them matter, of course, you’re all that Dazai can focus on. Your eyes never leave his, not even for the sparest of moments, and Dazai feels like he’s caught in a trance, lost in your eyes and the feeling of your body so close to his, hyper aware of the way your your hand rests on his shoulder and the way your fingers are wrapped tight around his.
God, there’s something so otherworldly about you. Doesn’t know if it’s heavenly or supernatural, if you’re his angel sent to lead him to salvation or his very own siren singing a sweet melody to lead him to ruin. Doesn’t think he cares either way—salvation, damnation, none of it matters as long as he has you.
“Not so bad, hm?” he murmurs, sweeping you out into a spin before pulling you back to him, closer this time. He can feel your chest brush his and he prays you can’t feel the way he’s lost control of his heart, painfully cognizant of the erratic thumping. His hand slides from your hip to the small of your back, holding you close to him. He could stay in this moment forever, surroundings drowning out; all he can see is you, all that matters is you.
“Yeah,” you say softly. “Not so bad.”
His lips part to respond but he’s interrupted when he sees movement from the corner of his eye, freezing.
“Dazai.”
Dazai stiffens as a familiar voice speaks from behind him, shifting to stand partially in front of you as his gaze cuts to the side to see Mishima’s familiar figure standing a few feet away. Turning to face him, he asks, “Do you need something?”
“I’d like to speak to you before we meet with Tolstoy, Nabokov and Cao.”
Mishima’s voice leaves no room for argument, dark eyes absent of any emotion as he waits for Dazai to follow him. Dazai’s jaw tightens, eyes drifting back to you as he tries to figure out what to do. He can’t leave you here, not with Cao’s hawk-like gaze trained on the dancefloor and Tolstoy waiting for the opportunity to make a move. But he does need to talk to Mishima, have some idea of where he stands with the Sun and Steel before facing all of the foreigners.
“May I have this dance?”
Dazai hadn’t even heard Chuuya approach, turning to the side to watch as he holds a hand out toward you expectantly, quick to step in to take Dazai’s place so that you’re not alone. You shoot Dazai a concerned glance, brows furrowing a bit, before you place your hand in Chuuya’s.
Chuuya leads you back onto the dance floor, Dazai’s gaze lingers for a few moments, a bitter feeling spreads through his chest because that should be him, and it’s wholly unfair that he has to deal with all of this unsavory business when he should be spending time with you.
He should just kill them all here and be done with it.
The words ring through his head, echoing, tempting. He inhales and forces himself to look away as you loop your arms around Chuuya’s shoulders, swaying in tune to the slow song playing. He turns his attention back to Mishima, voice cool and expression void of emotion:
“Speak.”
Dancing with Nakahara Chuuya is awkward. Awkward is even being generous. It’s not like he’s a bad dancer—in fact, it’s clear that he’s a very good one. He’s smooth on his feet as he spins you around the dance floor, but he’s so stiff. He’s careful to keep space between the two of you, hands never dipping lower than your sides, lips pressed together. He hardly even looks at you, his attention is more on where Dazai had stepped to the side to speak with the dark-haired man who’d interrupted the two of you, but you’re grateful for it, because it’s giving you a chance to gather your thoughts.
You think Dazai might’ve inadvertently confirmed your suspicions from yesterday. You don’t know who these people are, but there’s no way any ordinary business event would be dangerous enough for Dazai to genuinely worry that someone might kill you in a room crowded with two hundred people. A part of you wonders if it’s just different for ability users, that they’re not scared of committing crimes in public because they have an ability that prevents them from getting caught, but you know you’re just trying to make excuses at this point.
Your gaze drifts back over to the older, light-haired man with dark eyes who’d approached you and Dazai when you walked in. He’s off to the side talking with a Chinese man dressed in a red suit—your gaze lingers, trying to piece together the puzzle in your head desperately, but all of the edges are jagged and confusing, you can’t seem to figure out where they each fit with each other.
You’d thought maybe that Dazai and his business was somehow affiliated with the mafia, because no one with the amount of money and success that he has gets it cleanly, but now you can’t help but hesitate, reconsidering your original theory. Vladimir Nabokov had been scared of Dazai. And it’s not like you haven’t noticed the effect that Dazai has on people. Whenever you’re around people with him, they get tense and on edge, but it’s different seeing the effect he has on someone who doesn’t even work for him, a foreigner supposed to be one of Dazai’s associates if you understood what he meant about not showing up to a meeting.
Who are you, Dazai?
You don’t even know if you want to know. You love Dazai. You do. You knew it earlier in the night. You know it now. It’s something you can no longer hide or deny. You remember the concerned look on his face when he saw how upset you were. You can feel the way his lips brushed the nape of your neck as he explained why he kept meeting you at the club, the way he kissed your ankles as he knelt in front of you and told you how he was selfish for keeping you around, how he kissed your palm and leaned into your touch as he promised you anything you want. God, you love him, you don’t think anyone has ever looked at you the way he does; no one has ever spoken to you the way he does.
You love him, and it scares you because you’re realizing you still don’t know anything about him, not really, and you’re also realizing that there’s a high chance he’s been lying to you about what he does. It scares you even more that your first instinct isn’t to run. Because you should run. This should make you run. He brought you to an event with people so dangerous that he’s afraid they might try to hurt you, or worse, but you don’t want to run, because you’d be running from him and you don’t want to run from him.
Could you sacrifice everything for him though?
Fuck your morals—everything you’ve worked for, all of the years slaving away to put yourself on the path to success. You’ve told yourself your entire life that it would be all you would focus on, that it would all be worth it in the end. You convinced yourself that maybe if you proved yourself enough, your brother would return to your life; he’d be proud of you and he’d come back to you. You know he’s still out there somewhere, you get letters with no return address every month—the only thing in the envelope is a check with a dubious amount of money, but it’s in his hand writing, so you know it’s him.
A part of you wants to cry, frustration clawing at your chest: the future you’ve worked so hard for, or love? The question you’ve dreaded since your epiphany yesterday is finally thrown right in front of your face, and you need an answer. The two are mutually exclusive—you will not be able to pursue the career you want with Dazai Osamu, not in the way you want at least. And you don’t want to do all of this work to just end up being another shady politician.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Your gaze snaps up to Chuuya, who’s suddenly looking at you, and you don’t really know how to respond.
I’m pretty sure you guys are part of the fucking Mafia and you’re all hiding it from me, but also I don’t want to know if you are because that’s going to force me to make a decision that I don’t want to make so I’d rather live in ignorance.
“My thoughts are only worth a penny?” You deflect with a grin instead, hoping it meets your eyes.
It doesn’t, evidently, because Chuuya’s eyes narrow a bit, and then he tilts his head to the side and hits you with a more direct: “What’s wrong?”
“I’m just worried,” you finally say, not entirely lying but also not telling the truth.
“About?” Chuuya presses and you sigh, exhaling a bit.
“He mentioned that there were dangerous people here,” you tell him quietly. “I’m just nervous for when you guys go to your meeting… I’m guessing it’s going to be soon.”
Chuuya’s brows furrow and you can see the thoughts racing behind his eyes before he speaks again. “You’ll be fine,” he tells you. “We have people all over the event hall, and Tachihara is going to sit with you until you Dazai can get back. Dazai shouldn’t have worried you with all of this. He shouldn’t have even-”
He cuts himself off, jaw tightening, but you know what he’s going to say: he shouldn’t have even brought you here.
“I don’t know what he’s thinking,” Chuuya says quietly, and you think he might be talking more to himself than anything else now, but you listen anyway. “He’s always been hard to read but this is…”
He stops speaking out loud, as if he’s realized that you’re there again, and instead he shakes his head. “You’ll be fine. Back at the headquarters before you know it.”
You aren’t so sure.
Your gaze drifts to the side as you watch Nabokov and the Chinese man make their way over to Dazai and the man he’s talking to. The blonde at the bar that Dazai kept looking at also stands up, drink in his hand as walks in the same direction.
Chuuya spits out a curse under his breath and gives you an apologetic look. Your heart sinks and your throat feels a bit tight—he doesn’t abandon you right away though, pressing his hand to the middle of your back as he guides you across the dancefloor to the bar, all the while keeping a keen eye on what’s happening on the other side of the room.
He pulls the barstool out for you, eyes still trained on where Dazai is standing with Kouyou, two men that work for him you haven’t met yet, and the four men you assume are business associates of his. Dazai is looking at you, an indecipherable expression on his face. You’re looking at him, suddenly anxious at the thought of being left alone, a bad feeling sweeping over you.
“Tachihara will be over here soon,” Chuuya finally says to you, tearing his gaze from his coworkers to look back down at you. He flags down the bartender to order a drink for you. “You’ll be fine. Knowing Dazai, the meeting won’t last long anyway.”
Your shoulders only slump a bit as you nod, thanking the bartender quietly for your drink as he hurries to bring it back to you, taking a sip of it. Chuuya doesn’t say much else—once you’re settled in your seat and have your drink, he squeezes your shoulder before making his way back over to the intimidating group of people standing on the opposite side of the room.
Your gaze meets Dazai’s conflicted one one last time before he’s forced to turn away and disappears down a side hall deeper into the building. You sigh as you twirl your drink around, the clear liquid sloshing dangerously close to the brim of your glass as your eyes twist around the event hall, seeking out Tachihara, or Atsushi, or anyone that works with Dazai because you’re feeling distinctly vulnerable alone. You find none of them. You can feel eyes on you—most you’re sure are harmless curiosity, wanting to know who exactly came in on the arm of Dazai Osamu, but you know some aren’t nearly as harmless, you can feel the hungry stares of vicious opportunists directed at your back and you don’t feel comfortable sitting alone.
You don’t even get five minutes to yourself.
“Is this seat taken?”
You’re startled by the unfamiliar voice, head snapping to the side. Your gaze focuses on a pretty man with soft features, shoulder-length black hair and gentle purple eyes. Your lips part to speak, but no words leave them, caught off-guard by his sudden appearance. He looks harmless enough, but there’s something about him that has you on edge—something simmering beneath the surface of his deceptive eyes that you can’t quite place but you know you don’t like.
“I mean no harm,” he says smoothly, lips curving up into an amiable smile. “I’m an old friend of Dazai’s. I only want to talk.”
An old friend. You don’t buy it, but you don’t want to risk antagonizing him, Dazai’s warning about the many lethal ability users prowling the event ringing through your head. You just hope that Tachihara shows up sooner rather than later as you finally shake your head.
“It’s not taken,” you say quietly, motioning to the stool as you take another generous sip of your drink.
The dark-haired man smiles at you as he takes a seat at the bar next to you, teeth glimmering like knives beneath the lighting of the chandelier. Instantly, you feel like you’ve made a mistake, a chill running down your spine as your eyes meet purple ones that are not quite so gentle anymore. Sharp and shrewd instead. Calculating. Dangerous.
“Fyodor Dostoevsky. A pleasure, truly.”
#dazai x reader#dazai x you#dazai osamu x reader#dazai osamu x you#bsd x reader#bsd x you#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungo stray dogs x you
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not even going anon for this. horny on main always pls. offering a lil Rolan headcanon I've been stewing on recently. I plan to make something of it eventually, but perhaps you can drabble from it now to sate me :)
Rolan is usually one to prefer softer sex - unending eye contact, kisses, more "romantic" positions.
Tav finally convinces him to take her from behind, and he's hesitant at first - until the sight of him unleashes something filthy and primal within him. It's as if he snaps, quickly shifting from slow, hesitant movements to desperate thrusts filled with raw desire. Soft kisses along her neck turn into love nips and then full on mating bites as her hips arch back into his - yeah. Just full on, animalistic urges, breathy grunts in her ear, Rolan 🥲🥵
AHHHHH making a usually soft man absolutely feral? Yes please 🥵
From Behind
It wasn’t that Tav was disappointed in her and Rolan's sex life. No it was quite the opposite actually. Rolan was a more than attentive lover, always taking into consideration Tav’s pleasure over his own. Always making sure that she reached her peak at least once before he even considered climbing towards his own.
Whilst in town one evening, shopping for a particular book, Tav had overheard a rather, intimate natured conversation that two women were whispering and giggling over.
“-from behind? And does it feel any different?”
“Oh quite! Much better if you ask me. Hits that spot almost every time.” The woman murmured to her friend whose face held utter astonishment.
“I’ll have to see if Maldor would be willing to try.”
Tav’s face blushed a deep color at the realization of just what the the two women had been chatting about. She quickly grabs what she was looking for, pays and leaves, face never changing shade from the deep flush from earlier.
Later that night, as Tav tucks into bed beside Rolan, and settles in to sleep, the wizard rolls over to pull her back against his chest like usual. Tav's breath hitches when his hips settle against her ass, her mind immediately shifting to what she had overheard at the shops.
"Are you alright?" Rolan leans up on his elbow, eyes looking over her to check for discomfort.
Tav startles at the sound of his almost gruff voice, "Hmm? Oh, yes, I'm alright."
"You're quite skittish, dear, did I do something to upset you?" the wizard gently pushes on her shoulder, getting her to roll over onto her back so he can get a good look at her face.
Her face which is flushed all over again, with eyes that are pointedly trying not to meet Rolan's.
Rolan moves his hand away from her shoulder, not wanting to cross any boundaries, even if he's unaware of any. Tav worries her bottom lip with her teeth, before meeting his concerned gaze.
"No, no you didn't do anything, my love. Just a long day is all." the lie leaves her mouth suspiciously quick, and Rolan notices the way she nervously swallows after speaking it.
"Tav, if you need your space, I am more than happy to give it to yo-"
"It's not that!" she cuts him off, "I just thought of something... specific, when you, well, you pressed against my ass."
The tiefling raises a brow at her, "What- Tav what are you talking about?" He's utterly confused at the way she's stumbling over her words over something so simple.
Tav sighs in defeat and avoids Rolan's gaze while speaking her next words, "While at the shop this evening, I overheard two women talking about their, well... intimate lives. And well, one of them mentioned how good it feels to be- well, to be taken from behind." She finishes and takes a breath before meeting his eyes once again.
"Is that something you'd like to try?" he asks so casually that it throws Tav off for a moment. Rolan was one who preferred more intimate positions, usually favoring missionary. He liked being able to watch Tav's features as they contorted with pleasure and reacted to his ministrations, liked being able to lock eyes with her as she came apart around him.
"Well, I wouldn't be opposed to it, I suppose. Only if you would be okay with it of cour-mmph." Rolan's lips meet Tav's in an abrupt kiss, affectively cutting off her anxious rambling.
"I am more than willing to try this with you, dear." he mumbles between kisses, his hand beginning to roam down her side to rest on her hip.
Tav deepens the kiss, tongue darting out to meet his, her hands coming up to rest on the ridged planes of his chest. Her fingers trace over the infernal ridges, before coming up to rest on his broad shoulders. She gasps into Rolan's mouth when she feels his fingers trail down her belly, toying at the edge of her panties, before dipping inside and gathering her wetness on his middle finger.
"So wet already. Just from the thought of me fucking you." he murmurs against her jaw, kissing along the bone.
"Please-" Tav begs. For what? She's not entirely sure.
"So needy." Rolan teases as he swipes his finger in little circles around her throbbing clit. His rhythm steady, his touch light. Tav's thighs tense, then instinctively fall open a bit more, the sensation almost too much.
"Want you to come for me before I fuck you from behind, can you do that for me?" he whispers against her lips, finger dipping to her fluttering hole, wetting itself to continue circling her.
"Mmhm." Tav whines desperately, her own fingers clasping around his forearm, already climbing to her peak. It's not long before her thighs begin to shake, her core clenching as she tumbles over the ledge. She throws her head back as Rolan finally dips two of his fingers into her spasming cunt. He fucks her through her orgasm, lips pressing wet kisses to her exposed throat, whispering praises against the taut skin.
"Always so good for me. Now I want you on your knees sweetheart." He holds a hand out for her to take as she lifts to her wobbly knees. As she kneels before him, he gets into position behind her.
One clawed hand traces up Tav's spine, making it's way up to the back of her neck to grip and push her down into place. Her elbows meet the mattress. A shocked sound huffs past Tav's lips, and Rolan's hands caress over her hips, kneading the plush flesh lovingly.
He reaches down, taking his length in hand, he drags the tip through her wet folds.
"Are you ready to take me, dear?" he asks lovingly, notching his head in her entrance. Tav nods, looking back over her shoulder to meet his amber gaze.
When he pushes into her, she gasps. The head of him instantly brushing against that sweet spot nestled deep inside her. Rolan bends forward, an arm scooping around Tav's middle to pull her up against his chest. His thrusts pick up speed, his hips rutting into her frantically.
"Is this what you wanted? To be fucked like this?" he almost hisses the words. The hand wrapped around Tav, gropes at her breasts, squeezing the flesh and teasing at her peaked nipples.
"Yes yes yes." Tav chants breathily as he relentlessly pounds into her g-spot. She can feel her second orgasm building in the pit of her stomach.
"Gonna fill you up like this. Gonna fill you with my cum." Rolan groans into her neck, his free hand coming up to rest on her belly. "I'm so close."
"Come in me. Please, I wanna feel you fill me." Tav whimpers, holding onto his forearms.
With a guttural moan, Rolan releases into Tav, his seed flooding her walls being the thing that triggers her own orgasm.
Rolan thrusts a couple of more times, riding out their highs, before gently pulling out of her. He takes her into his arms, carefully laying her down to rest. Tav lays her head on his chest, making attempts to catch her breath.
"So, was it what you hoped it would be?" Rolan laughs as he tries to catch his own.
"Everything and more." Tav dopily smiles.
#baldur's gate 3#bg3#rolan x tav#holy rolan empire#bg3 rolan#rolan#rolan x reader#Rolan x tav smut#Rolan x reader smut#Rolan x tav angst#Rolan x tav fluff#baldurs gate#baldurs gate 3#bg3 oc#baldurs gate tav#rolan fanart#rolan nation#tiefling
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How diaboys will treat their plushie Yui headcanons:
Shu likes to use it as a pillow more than anything else. Because he feels that he is sleeping on Yui's soft body and feels very good and can relax.
The doll is designed to smell like Yui, so sometimes instead of using it as a pillow, he prefers to hug it and sleep like a baby.
The fabric used in the doll is very soft and always reminds Shu of Yui.
After seeing this doll in stores, Reiji went to the market with a long coat, sunglasses and a mask to buy it without anyone recognizing it.
After buying the doll, Reiji hides it in the darkest places of his room so that none of his brothers find the doll because he is sure to be teased by them.
Although the triplets always know about Reiji's secrets and like to tease him.
Sometimes in his solitude Reiji puts the doll on his lap and starts combing its hair. By doing this, he feels that he is touching Yui's soft hair.
In his longings, he sniffs the doll to remind him of Yui.
Reiji loves to hold Yui's plush to sleep at night, but he is worried that his brothers will see him like this. That's why he never does it.
Ayato went to the store like Jet to buy the plushie.
He looks at the doll in surprise and giggles at how strange it looks. But it doesn't take long before he finds himself hugging and smelling the plushie.
Ayato sometimes thinks that Plushie and Yui are one and the same, and orders Plushie to make takoyaki for him.
(Oi Chichinashi, hurry up, make me takoyaki. Oh... I forgot you are just a doll. Hahaha, even your doll is Chichinashi.)
Kanato fell in love with Yui's plush doll with just one look. He thinks Yui can be Teddy's best friend.
Kanato always hugs Yui's plush toy with Teddy and never takes it away from him.
He likes to sew cute clothes for Yui's plushie. Because Yui is always his doll.
Sometimes he has a tea party with Teddy and Plushie Yui.
Laito falls in love with Yui's plush doll and thinks she is very cute.
Laito likes to hug her and talk to her. And sometimes he likes to have bad fantasies about plushies.
Like Reiji, Subaru goes to the store in clothes to buy dolls so that no one recognizes him.
After seeing the doll, he goes to the store like Jet to buy it, and be sure if he can't get the Yui plushie, he will blow up the whole store.
Subaru keeps Yui's plushie in his coffin and sleeps with her all the time.
Plushie Yui smells exactly like Yui and makes Subaru feel good.
Sometimes he looks at Plushie and thinks how cute and beautiful she is and how he can tell his feelings to Yui and he blushes and screams looking at Plushie.
At first Ruki didn't want to buy the plushie, but he couldn't resist it. The plushie was very cute and smelled good and reminded him of his angel.
Ruki buys a plushie and keeps it with him all the time. He hugs Plushie when he is reading a book, thinking that Yui is in his arms and they are reading a book together.
He strokes Yui's plushie hair and kisses her and talks to her as if she were real.
(My angel, do you like to read books together... Yui, you always seduce me.)
When Kou saw Yui's doll, he screamed like a fangirl and quickly went to the store to buy a plushie. He saw that other boys also bought Yui's plushie and got angry and bought all the dolls in the store so that no other boy could buy it.
He treats Yui's plushie like a cat. He buys it cat clothes and even gives it food.
He constantly hugs and squeezes Yui's plushie and thinks it is the cutest plushie in the world. He wished he could squeeze real Yui just as hard.
Yuma buys the plushie just because it makes him feel good because he's not very fond of dolls.
He sometimes puts the plushie in his garden so that he can see it while working and feel good.
Azusa falls in love with Yui's plushie. He buys a plushie and never takes it off. He even hugs it at school, even though Ruki keeps reminding him that it's embarrassing, but Azusa doesn't care.
He always smells Yui's plushie to make him feel that his beloved Eve is by his side.
He constantly kisses Yui's plushie and sometimes feels like he is kissing and caressing Yui.
Carla places Yui's plushie in his large art collection as if it were a rare and valuable piece of art.
According to him, the wife of a founder should be treated like queens and this plushie doll should be treated like a big art sculpture. She is the beloved wife of a founder.
Shin loves to hug Yui's plushie and sleep.
Sometimes, when he gets too emotional, he turns into a wolf and goes around Yui's plushie and licks it. He never shows it in front of Carla, but he loves Yui's plushies.
Kino is not interested in plushie dolls but Yui is his princesse and a princesse needs a prince.
Kino sometimes hugs plushie Yui and plays with it. Sometimes he wishes Yui was as good at video games as Plushie Yui.
What none of the boys can deny is that sleeping with a plushie Yui is the best feeling in the world.
#diabolik lovers#dialovers#yui komori#komori yui#shu sakamaki#reiji sakamaki#ayato sakamaki#kanato sakamaki#laito sakamaki#subaru sakamaki#ruki mukami#kou mukami#yuma mukami#azusa mukami#carla tsukinami#shin tsukinami#kino sakamaki#diabolik lovers fandom#diabolik lovers headcanons
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the self-destructive habits of a hopeless romantic ~ j. hughes
synopsis: monetizing one's self-sabotaging habits, surprisingly, has its downfalls. one of them being leaving that one attractive hockey player that is an absolute gentleman who loves you with his whole entire heart.
warnings: self-sabotage, self-deprecation, angsty (but with happy ending)
word count: 3425 words
note: once again unedited but i wanted to get this one out there
???'s pov
time and time again, the world has seen the self destructive habits of humans. well, that makes it seem serious. the world has seen the countless missed opportunities due to a fear of another's reaction. the world has seen the blunders due to saving face. the world has seen the heartbreaks due to miscommunication. time and time again, the world has seen how people sabotage their own lives for the dumbest reasons.
esther graham was no different.
in fact, she capitalized on her ability to put herself into the worst emotional distress possible. every heartbreak produced a great work of literature that would nearly sell out in bookstores all over the northeast. she wasn't a new york times best seller by any means, but she was a small town writer from mont vernon, new hampshire. she made a name for herself during her time at hamilton college in their creative writing program. in her junior year of college, she published her first book, woes of a teenage failure, a novel following what could have been for a young college drop out named sophia. the book was a hit amongst her peers and professors, and by word of mouth, ended up selling 200 copies. the book, as ms. graham remarked, was her own "what-if" story, as she almost dropped out of college the beginning of her sophomore year.
and how do i know so much about ms. graham?
well, because i am ms. esther graham.
and i'm here to tell you all about the biggest blunder of my life.
after my first book, i hit major writing block. i would stare at my computer screen for hours just to delete the only three words that i could come up with. i would sit in coffee shops, pen in hand, ready for inspiration to strike, and yet, nothing. i was nearing the end of my college career, riding on the coattails of my first and only book's success, and couldn't figure out how to continue. my professors taught me plenty of ways to try and combat writer's block, but nothing worked.
until i met ryan. a devilishly handsome man all the way from the cheese state of wisconsin, who was meeting up with some college friends for the annual boston beanpot. we had our meet cute at a nearby pizza joint, in which i sat down and started chatting with him, thinking he was a publisher that i was supposed to meet with. after realizing my blunder when he had absolutely no idea what an anthology was, he asked if i wanted to join him and his friends at the beanpot, as one of their friends had cancelled, leaving them with an extra ticket.
ryan and i dated for four months. we would take turns traveling between my college in new york and his in wisconsin until eventually it became too much, or should i say, too little for him, and he broke it off. in my rage and complete depression from the breakup, i wrote my next hit, until the sun sets, a 142-page anthology of gut-wrenching poems, which was eventually integrated into hamilton college's curriculum for their young adult modern literature class. i was quite proud of that.
after that, i found myself yet again staring at blanks screens and empty notepads.
that is, until chloe. a beautiful new york native whom i had actually met while dating ryan. she was a hostess at a restaurant ryan and i would always go to. she was pursuing her masters in psychology, which gave me fascinating insights and tactics to use in my books. we were never officially together, but we had something for almost three months before she was whisked off by some californian named ella. i never saw her again, which prompted my next book, the ninth floor, a murder mystery following a closeted lesbian couple in 1940's hollywood (it was one of the girlfriends the whole time).
at this point, when i hit a creative block for the third time, i realized that i needed my heart or brain to be in absolute shambles in order to produce my best work. i needed to be at some sort of life crisis, and the easiest way to do so was to love another and let that love be ripped out of your life.
so, i began dating for the sake of my career. it was like i sought out the most manipulative, scummy people in the world who were able to get away with it just because they were attractive. over the course of a year, my first year out of college, i dated a total of three men and one woman, and poured my emotions out into a collection of short stories titled lavender.
and that was when i met jack.
i was in new jersey for a book signing at this little bookstore which, as it turns out, was right by the prudential center. as i left the bookstore, i was nearly run over by an overly excited man-child with a giant bag slung upon his shoulder.
"luke, watch out, you nearly killed that woman!" a voice yelled from where the man came from.
"i'm so sorry about that miss, my brother can get a bit overexcited sometimes." looking at the person talking to me, i found a young, very attractive brunet with the most adorable smile. i straightened myself up instinctively, wanting to appear presentable.
"no worries. if you don't mind me asking, what got him so riled up that he almost trampled me?" the man let out a laugh at my statement.
"of course, we owe you at least that much for your near-death experience. he just got nominated for the calder trophy." he explained, as if those words meant anything to me. seeing my blank stare, he clarified. "a rookie of the year award. we play for the new jersey devils." the boy in question came up and joined us, grinning ear to ear.
"ahhh, i see. i'm not a big hockey watcher, which i know is absolute blasphemy for someone who grew up in new hampshire." his jaw nearly dropped.
"you're from up here and don't like hockey? we have to change that." he exclaimed. in my peripheral vision, i could see his brother trying to hide his laughter at his brother's forwardness.
"ill have to come and watch a game sometime." i mused.
"we have a game coming up next week against the blue jackets. i could maybe snatch you a seat in exchange for your number." he proposed. his brother snorted at that, having to turn around to hide his obvious laughter. the man paid his brother no mind, just looking at me with a big smile on his face.
"trying to bribe me mister?"
"is it working?" i put my hand out and he immediately put his phone in my hand, adding my information into his contacts.
"esther? that's nice, you look like a esther." i quirked an eyebrow at him, but continued on anyways.
"and you? what should i call you?"
"call me yours. or jack, either works." the brother was doubled over on the floor at this point, jack finally acknowledging him by kicking him slightly, making him fall over.
"anyways, ms. esther, we have to get going, but ill see you next week at our game." he put out his hand for me to shake.
"you've got yourself a deal jack."
and just like that, jack and i started talking. his eagerness was cute, he texted me no more than ten minutes after meeting me. we talked every day, mainly on calls, asking each other questions and such to get to know each other.
and sure enough, the next week, i found myself back in new jersey watching the brothers play. i assumed jack was going to be some sort of benchwarmer or something, but that didn't seem to be the case. despite my lack of hockey knowledge, i could tell the boy was good, and he had quite a fan base if the amount of women wearing his jersey meant anything. and i felt severely out of place, simply wearing a grey sweater and jeans, unlike everyone else in the stands, decked out in red.
after that, i found myself going to a couple more hockey games, for no particular reason. jack would try to explain the game over video calls and our occasional coffee meet ups, but i couldn't for the life of me wrap my head around it. why do they all get off the ice every five seconds? and what the hell is offsides?? jack always laughed at my confusion, telling me that i'd get it one day.
we spent a couple months thriving off of video chats and once-in-a-blue-moon hangouts, until i got a job as an editor for a local paper. i was good at editing, always having good grammar and an eye for design, but it wasn't my dream. despite it not being my dream, i needed a stable income, and fast. my mind was devoid of ideas, and it didn't seem like that would change any time soon.
plus, it helped that this stable income happened to be in new york city, putting me a lot closer to a certain someone. and, with me being closer, that certain someone would pop on by a lot more than before. and eventually, chinese takeout dinners turned into staying the night, which turned into coming up for the weekend, which turned into the line of friendship being crossed into something more.
and then, i made the dumbest mistake of my life.
i let him go.
now, i know what you must be thinking. he must have done something wrong, he must have cheated or neglected me or done something so completely unforgivable that i would just throw away the most amazing thing in my life. and i wish i was here to tell you that was the truth.
but it wasn't.
jack was nothing but a gentleman, and i was just a broken girl doing the only thing i knew how to do: leave. i like to tell myself that it was for my career, that i needed to write another book, that i wasn't fulfilled in my job and that i was putting myself first by doing this, but i was perfectly content with my life. i was an editor for a major publishing company, i started writing little happy poems about my mundane life with jack, and wanted nothing more. i had no reason to run away. i just woke up in his bed one day and realized that i wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, and i couldn't accept that. i had gotten so used to leaving people that i assumed that they would leave me if i hadn't done so first, and i couldn't lose the one real thing i ever had.
so naturally, my self-destructive, self-sabotaging self let him go, the exact opposite of what i wanted.
and when i got back to my apartment after writing jack a confusing and half-assed letter, i cried. i cried and cried and cried, and i always wrote about characters crying until they couldn't anymore, but that day, i couldn't find the end to my tears. for hours tears would either slowly leak or violently pour from my eyes, and they never did end, not even when i passed out on my couch from exhaustion.
and after a week, i was expecting to pick myself up and start writing my next best seller, coping with my writing. but i sat there, and my florescent computer screen simply sat there, staring back at me. and when i left my apartment for a change of scenery, the blank pages of my notebook mocked me. i flipped through past works, all of them being little poems about jack, and the waterworks continued, right in the middle of a starbucks.
after a week and four days, i couldn't take it. i had to make things right, i had to at least see him. it always worked in the books, right? someone makes a huge mistake, they break up, they see each other again and realize they're both miserable without each other and then get back together and live happily ever after.
when i knocked on the door to jack's apartment, i was met with an unimpressed looking luke. at the sight of him, the waterworks started up again.
"you're an idiot, you know that?" i nodded furiously at this, sobs wrecking through my body. i couldn't see through the tears in my eyes, but i could tell the luke hadn't moved a muscle.
"he deserved better and you know that." i felt my soul being crushed. "i mean, a letter? seriously esther? and a half-assed one at that. i know damn well you don't have a degree in creative writing for that bullshit."
i opened my mouth to explain, but nothing came up. what would i say, that i was a broken person? cop out. that i did it to everyone? not much better. that i got scared? fucking coward.
"if you think that you deserve to see my brother, then i'll let you in." he told me, moving out of the way, door open wide. i just stood there, staring at him through teary eyes. my brain cheered, finally able to go in, but my feet wouldn't move.
my heart still clenched and ached, and with every thought of moving forward, into that apartment, it hurt more. jack didn't deserve this. after all the nights of him reading my poems about him and praising my work, after all the sweet things he'd say when i was down, after all the little acts of kindness he showed me, after all the love he poured into us, he didn't deserve to be broken by me. hurt people hurt people, the scholars had that right. he didn't deserve to be broken.
and so, i got ready to leave, again.
"i'm sorry." was all i said, turning around with heavy legs and a heavy heart. i heard luke let out a sigh as i walked away, closing the door behind him.
a couple of days went by and i found myself back at their apartment. i knew they wouldn't be there, they had an away game in anaheim the night before, and i knew from my time with jack that they would always spend the night in the city before coming back, especially after a win, a 5-0 win no less.
i stood there in front of their door, a small box in my hands, contemplating. jack didn't deserve this, but a selfish part of me needed this. i placed the box gingerly outside of their door and left the building. if the box was taken by some nosy neighbor, or thrown in the trash by some janitor, then it would be fate. it would be a sign to move on. but, there was a chance that jack and luke would come back to their apartment, and would pick up the box, and jack would recognize my handwriting. and, instead of throwing the box in the trash like any normal self-respecting person receiving a box from their shitty ex, he would take it to his room, and open it up to see my notebook, with a bookmark starting at the pages when i first started seeing him. and he would read the poems and maybe, just maybe, he'd see the note written on the bookmark to meet me at the park near his apartment, and maybe, just maybe, he'd be willing to hear me out.
i went to that park every single day for exactly one month and six days, always arriving by 1 pm, never late. and i would stay there until 4 pm, waiting.
on the 37th day, i was sitting there, editing, funnily enough, a sports column about the recent devils and islanders game. i watched it, absolutely terrible game it was, the islanders beating the devils for the first time in the season. our sports journalist, while passionate and very knowledgeable about seemingly every sport out there, had a knack for writing long, run-on sentences that reflected his rambling nature. as i sat there on the same park bench i had been sitting on for the previous 36 days, a figure stopped in front of me. i finished up the sentence i was working on before looking up.
and while i hate cliches, the wind was absolutely knocked out of my lungs.
"h-hey jack." i started, immediately putting away my work, giving him my full attention.
"hey esther." a shiver ran down my spine from him just saying my name. it had been so long, and while it lost its loving tone, i welcomed it with open arms. jack moved, taking the spot next to me, looking out at the trees in front of us. when it became apparent he wasn't going to say anything, i started the conversation.
"i see you read the notebook."
"i finished it three weeks ago." he replied, voice lacking its usual emotion. tears welled up in my eyes. three weeks.
"oh."
"i came here immediately after finishing it." i felt my eyes bulge out of their sockets at that. he continued, "i went to that bench over there and watched as you fidgeted in your spot, looking frantically at everyone who passed by. i watched the next day as you sat in the pouring rain with no umbrella. i sat over on that bench every day that i was here since reading your notebook."
a silence fell upon us, my mind reeling, trying to figure out what he was trying to say, from his emotionless face to the fact that he came.
"do you know how much it hurt? waking up to empty sheets and some half-assed note with the lamest excuses on earth?" i hadn't really paid mind to the tears rolling down my cheeks until he brought that up, sending me back to that morning, quickly scribbling out some gibberish before leaving the best part of my life behind.
"i was going to wait another month, y'know. to see if you were still gonna come here every day."
"so why didn't you?" i asked, sniffling intensely, trying to calm down my sobs.
"luke said i was absolutely miserable without you. coach told me i wasn't focused. my teammates pointed out that i barely left my apartment. the icing on the cake was when my mom started asking if you would be coming over to the lakehouse this summer. i realized, as pathetic as it seems, that i can't live without you."
my attempts at stopping my crying were thrown out the window at that. i could probably fill the hudson river with the amount of tears i had shed over the past two months.
"how can i make it up to you. please, please let me make it up to you." i begged, fully facing him, my hands angrily playing with the sleeves of my shirt because if i didn't, i would be reaching out to the man in front of me.
"never pull that shit again." he bargained, looking me dead in the eyes for the first time in months. and in that moment, i saw just how bad he was doing. sunken eyes with heavy bags, his skin dull, hair slightly unkempt under his hat.
"never again." i promised, putting out my pinky to him, something he would always do when he promised me to not get hurt in games. he let out a hoarse laugh, looking away from me, and when he looked back, i saw the tears brewing in his eyes. he took my pinky in his and held it there, between us.
"now, i'm not gonna just take you right back after all that. that was really shitty and i need some time to get over that. but, as i've found out, i can't really function without you. so maybe you could start with coming to my games again, and i could take you out for coffee next week."
"sounds perfect."
i accepted my life as an editor for the local newspaper, accepted that i probably wouldn't write another page-turning sell-out book, accepted that i was completely content with whatever happened to me, so long as jack was there with me.
and with that, my self-destructive, soul-crushing, heart-breaking tendencies reached their end.
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Hi I'm so freaking obsessed with your twitter.
Also what's your favorite Romione moment in the books and why?
ohohoho thank you, friend, i’m quite proud of some of the stuff i’ve posted on there B)
and as for my favourite romione moment in the books, when i read the question i first blanked out for a couple minutes, thinking of a bunch of smaller, sillier scenes. but then i remembered that i do have a favourite and it’s from chapter 11 of DH, when remus visited the trio at grimmauld place and filled them in on he goings on of the war -including the implementation of the muggle-born registry. ron’s response upon hearing this (after his immediate outrage) was
and it’s not just the hand holding and the “‘you won’t have a choice’ said Ron fiercely” that played out so vividly in my head like this:
but this scene demonstrates so perfectly the political weight of this pairing (muggleborn/blood traitor) which i think is the immovable narrative foundation of romione. all of their silly moments and idiosyncrasies aside, there is genuine narrative purpose behind this love. ron has always had an astute understanding of the blood supremacist politics of the wizarding world (need i remind that he was ready to curse shitco at the ripe age of 12 for calling hermione the in-universe slur) and just how wrong it is. ron is a pure-blood wizard and by design has so much privilege in this society bc of it, but by virtue of having parents like arthur and molly, he’s grown up knowing the importance of fighting against blood supremacist ideology. always.
so, after hearing about the completely horrifying muggleborn registry ("People won't let this happen," said Ron. "It is happening, Ron," said Lupin.), he immediately turns to his muggleborn best friend and love of his life and says “i’m making you a family member, i’m going to use the protection my family-name has and use it to protect you from the awful injustice of our situation, no you won’t have a choice but to let me help you”
i remember having such a… visceral reaction while reading this scene like holy shit .. these kids, THESE KIDS!!!!! this is the bone-marrow-deep love that makes me feel insane. this dynamic of the blood traitor/muggleborn always there, from CoS all the way to the epilogue. We get to see that romione is the story’s pure blood/muggleborn that finally made it (rip jily and tedromeda :(). we see it in hermione keeping her muggle last name after they get married (oh my god these two actually got married) and we also see it in the hyphenated Granger-Weasley (granger being first!) in their kids’ last names (oh my gof these two had TWO kids). they are a true symbol of change and progress in their world.
also this is one of those moments where i’m so glad that our only window to romiones relationship development is through harry’s narration because it so brilliantly shows the readers this blossoming love story instead of just telling us about it because harry obviously doesn’t have access to the inner thoughts of his two best friends, he can only witness them fall deeper in love. showing the audience acts of love is always more powerful and my god is this an act of showing your love to your beloved.
(and not to go on an unrelated tangent, but this is exactly why i could never ship my girl hermione w any DE or DE-adjacent character. no fucking way. not when the concept of a muggle-born registry exists in this universe, not when the antagonists in this story wish to eradicate people like her from their society. idk about the rest of y’all but im going to keep taking the narrative seriously bc the worldbuilding obviously has real world ties/implications and i like engaging with the canon. tangently to the tangent, i saw someone (a ron basher) on twitter say that ron, OUR RON FROM THE ABOVE EXCERPT, was “one bad day away from becoming a death eater” ohhhh ohhh i ought to beat you with sticks bc HUH? this is the same kid who said he would’ve boarded the train back to kings cross if he got sorted to slytherin, the house notorious for birthing DEs, at the tender age of 11)
anyways, all this to say is that romione is incredibly, realistically, materially romantic and i love them and i love their love <3
#romione#harry potter#harry potter and the deathly hallows#pro romione#bc duh#romione meta#hp meta#harry potter meta#toorumlk#nusreplies#my art#bc the hands#ron weasley defense squad
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LAW X READER
P.s. ok, so I wrote this within the span of a day, so if there's any mistakes, I apologize. As I mentioned in the first part, this loosely goes along with the actual chronological events of the Wano season of One Piece. If I missed any important details, I'm sorry. I'll probably do one or two more parts. The last part will probably take a while because I'm still watching Wano.
CW: Smut, Oral sex (reader recieving), yes we get cockblocked yet again my dudes.
Cockblocked in Wano Pt.3
You followed after Law once he walked out due to his fight with Shinobu. You knew he and his crew never ratted the Samurai out. To be completely honest, you were just as mad as Law, which seemed impossible considered the sour look he had.
How could Shinobu have accused the Heart Pirates of such betrayal? How could she say anything bad about them when they had Bepo? You would've killed for Bepo. He was a whole reason on his own for why you could no longer stand there and listen to her accusations.
As you were lost in your thoughts, you were suddenly brought back to real time as you accidentally walked into Law's back. Somehow you were at the Polar Tang.
"If you'd rather go back and be with your crew, I completely understand," Law said carefully.
"Oh, i-its fine. I don't think I could handle being near Shinobu anyway, not after that. Now's not the time to be pointing fingers,"
"I completely agree y/n. I'm not stranger to being accused of being the bad guy, I'm a pirate after all. Oh well," Law said with a hint of appreciation in his voice. He could tell you were on his side. Always loyal and kind.
You followed Law as he entered the submarine. It was quiet. Perhaps too quiet. But how could you possibly know? This was your first time in the Heart Pirates home base.
Law walked towards one door way and then turned to look at you.
"Stay here for a moment,"
"Okay,"
Law looked around the shared quarters belonging to his crew. He saw a few faces and noticed they were all sleeping. No hints of danger.
Law exhaled a sigh of relief as he turned back to fetch you.
"It seems everyone's getting some rest, follow me,".
And you did just that.
Not sure where he was leading you, you felt yourself get nervous with anticipation. You knew you could trust him, that's not what worried you. What worried you was the idea of being completely alone with Law. No interruptions. No more having to worry about being walked in on like this morning. However, you two had already gotten into some fun once already. Maybe it could happen again. Your heart fluttered at the thought.
"These are my quarters,"
"O-oh?"
"Maybe we should try to get some rest too. I wasn't expecting to be woken up so suddenly this morning,'
"Yeah, sorry about that,"
"No need to apologize. Hell, I should be thanking you if anything,"
"What, why?"
"I can't tell you the last time I slept for hours like that without waking up 3-4 times from nightmares. It was strange, but it was really nice. And I think its because of you,".
He opened the door to his bedroom, smiling as he did. You felt yourself blush at his kind words.
You took a good look around his room. It was well kept and clean. There was a desk next to a bookcase in one corner, filled to the brim with folders, books, and various documents. Everything from medical books to comics. On the opposite side of his room was a bed. You were surprised to see how big it was. You were expecting something smaller due to Laws lanky, skinny figure, but it made sense. His legs are so long and he must toss and turn a lot if he has trouble sleeping, must need room to sprawl out.
"Mind helping me sleep again?" Law asked without looking at you, he was blushing slightly.
"Sure!"
You felt yourself flush slightly, you felt like you sounded too eager to cuddle with the black cat-like man.
But he didn't acknowledge it. He put Kikoku against the wall and his hat on his desk before making his way to the bed. He watched you make your way towards him and generously held the blanket up for you to snuggle next to him. You prompted yourself up slightly as you laid down, pushing Laws shoulders down and pulling him in front of you.
Before he could ask what you were doing, you answered his thoughts.
"Lay your head on my chest,".
This caused Law to glance down at your breasts as he gulped audibly. How cute, you thought, as you saw him get flustered. As you watched his expression, you felt some boldness due to the sight of how weak your body made him. You giggled and before he could look back up to your eyes, you grabbed the back of his scalp and pushed his face down into your breasts. You heard him gasp into your chest and began giggling more.
As you did, not paying much attention to the man suffocating into you, Law slowly lifted his gaze to your face as he gently bit your displayed cleavage.
"Ouch, what was that for?" you asked, giggling calming down.
"Clearly you're not tired enough for a nap, maybe I should help tire you out," he smirked, and dove back down to suck on your exposed skin. Your giggling was replaced by sucking in your breath as you felt his lips on you. Law began trailing down to your right nipple, dragging his tounge towards it as he pulled your his kimono to the side, opening your body to him more.
He gently sucked on your nipple, and brought his right hand over your unattended tit.
You let out a shaky low moan. Not even loud enough to be considered a whisper.
"L-Law? W-what are you aah~, d-doing?"
He let out a low chuckle, almost growling as he spoke.
"Following through on my promise, I meant what I said,".
He winked at you before diving back down on you, slowly kissing his way lower and lower until he was completely covered by the blanket. Conventially, your legs were already spread for him to hold his body in between. He stopped his trail of kisses and pressed his open mouth to your left hip, sucking in your flesh in between his teeth as he bites you. The bite is gentle at first, but it becomes stronger, earning him a gasp from you. He chuckles again as he makes his way lower. Slowly he places wet open mouth kisses on your inner thighs.
"L-Law!" you whimper, desperately needing to feel him on your core.
He began biting at your thighs, but suddenly stopped.
"Law?" you asked, curious as to why he pulled away.
Suddenly the blanket was gone, and Law had a hungry, devilish smirk on his face.
"I want you to watch me turn you into a mess," he spoke calmly.
Before you could respond, he started devouring you. Pulling moans out of you as your head falls back.
He started sucking lightly on your clit, just enough to make you crave more of him. As you bucked your hips to encourage him, he didnt seem to get the memo.
Letting out a groan of frustration for not getting what you wanted, you looked down at the hungry man between your thighs. You were met with a gaze that seemed to have already been staring at you.
Law smirked. "Bout time you looked at me. Watch me and I'll give you what you need," he said as he began to pick up the pace.
It was exactly the kind of pace and pressure you needed. You started to feel the coil in you getting closer and closer to snapping. Then he added 2 of his beautiful fingers into your entrance making his way to your sweet spot as he lapped and sucked on your clit. It didn't take much after that to make your vision go white as you rode out your orgasm.
After you came back down to reality, you panted as you looked back down at Law. He was licking his fingers, swallowing down your essence. If he didn't give off black cat energy before, he definitely resembled the actual thing with how he licked his hand. It was cute.
"Thank you, that felt amazing,"
"Too soon to thank me, sweetness. I've got more in store for you,"
"Oh really~. Like what, exactly?"
Law slowly started crawling over you, hovering above you.
"I was thinking about fucking you until you went dumb on my dick-"
*Bang Bang Bang*
"CAPTAIN!? IS THAT YOU!? ARE YOU BACK!?" a female voice called from behind the locked door.
Not again. What happened this time?
"Dammit," Law sighed, he sounded desperate as he pressed his forehead against yours and closed his eyes.
He lifted his head back, raising an eyebrow.
"Do I have time to-...get prepared?"
"CAPTAIN WHAT DO YOU MEAN!? THIS IS URGENT! SHACHI, PENGUIN, AND BEPO WERE CAPTURED!"
"Why can't anyone stay out of trouble," he began. Though his words sounded harsh, you could hear the sloght tremble of worry they carried.
"Coming!" he yelled at the voice behind the door.
You heard some footsteps shuffle away from the door.
"Not in the way I'd like to...," Law sighed with furrowed brows. All you could do was giggle.
"Come on, we need to go find your crewmates,"
"Not we, I got it. It's not your responsibility. Oh, and two more things-"
"What?" you couldn't help sounding slightly dissapointed to be away from him.
Sensing your disapproving tone, he hoped that what he was about to say would make you cheer up.
"-First thing, don't tell the Straw Hats about my crew being captured. I'm going to get them back,".
You understood why he didn't want Luffy to know. You knew Luffy would cause more trouble breaking down walls to help Law rescue his crew.
"Ok, what's the second thing you wanted to say?"
"When I get back, I'm going to fuck you so good, you'll want to join my crew instead," he smirked at you. You went completely red. You were so hot and bothered it looked like steam was blowing out of your ears.
Law giggled and got up to reposition his kimono. He started making his way to the door, then he looked back at you fondly.
"Wait for me, sweetness,"
"I-i will,"
And with that, his mission began.
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Clone wars headcanons that took me forever to edit
I feel like my last couple of headcanons have been mushy so I’ve decided to write some shit Ahsoka and Anakin do that piss each other off
Ahsoka bites the skin around her nails all the time and most of the time she won't stop till they’re bleeding
Anakin’s tried literally everything in the book to get her to stop
He tried putting spices on her hands forgetting that she likes spicy food, he’s tried painting her nails (like that’ll do anything) but she keeps picking the paint off, now he just uses the force to remove them from her mouth
That’s gotten a few growls from her but at least it makes her aware she’s doing it but it doesn’t stop her from bitting them a couple of seconds later
Honestly he’s given up and just sits in silence while she complains about the pain
Anakin paces whenever he’s even slightly nervous and she can tell how nervous he is depending on how fast he moves
If he’s just kinda anxious he moves pretty slow but if he’s like one shirt caught on a door handle away from a panic attack he’s teleporting
When Padme told him he was gonna be a dad he was ecstatic for about 24 hours but after that some invisible timer went off in his head he booked it to Ahsoka’s house (she lives down the street cause of course she does)
Walked into her room and woke her poor sleepy butt up with all his pacing
Girl swears to this day he broke the damn sound barrier with how fast he was moving
She just wordlessly sat up and patted her bed cause she knew she wasn’t gonna get any sleep until he did
She sat by him and listened as he rattled off all his worries and only really stepped in when the darker thoughts surfaced when it was all said and done she turned to him and said “Now let me kriffing sleep”
Should he have probably left the room yeah but he got a total of 30 minutes of “sleep” that night so it’s not surprising that he knocked the fuck out of
Padme was a little bit alarmed to wake up without Anakin but was quickly soothed when she read Ahsoka’s message “Your nerf herders with me”
She knew the pregnancy would dredge up some unhappy feelings and she also knew Anakin can’t think clearly if he doesn’t have Ahsoka to sort through the bullshit in his head
She just got ready for brunch with her two favorite people and smiled cause she knew Obi-Wan and Rex would join them for dinner with or without an invitation
When Anakin and Ahsoka were living together they would kick each other out of their own bathrooms
Why? Well Ahsoka said Anakin’s had better lighting and water pressure and Anakin would do it to spite Ahsoka because he knew it would piss her off
Slowly but surely their stuff gets moved into each other's bathrooms and it’s a weird amalgamation of crap
Also when they were living together Anakin would ask Ahsoka if she was hungry before cooking and she’d often say no because she didn’t want to impose but his cooking always looked and smelled good
So half the time girl would just end up eating some of his food when she thought he wasn’t looking
At first he was like “Snips you said you weren’t hungry” to which she would respond “Yeah I wasn’t hungry then but I am now” after that he starts making more food on instinct cause damn that girl can eat
Anakin gets back at her pretty easily tho by taking the first bite of her food whenever they go out to eat his excuse is that he’s “making sure it’s not poisoned” he never does this to Padme cause he respects her too damn much
And he can’t use that trick on Obi-Wan and Rex cause the former taught him the trick and the latter has a bullshit detecter built-in
Both Anakin and Ahsoka pull that trick on the twins tho (which gets them a quick scolding from Padme)
Speaking of the twins it’s not surprising that as they grow up they realize that their auntie isn’t human so of course like any normal child they have questions and Anakin being the little shit that he is spots an opportunity for some laughs
So he turns to the twins all serious-like and goes “Well my loves we actually found your auntie in a dumpster we have no idea where she came from” the twins are distraught and go to the nearest adult who just so happens to be their uncle Rex
And Rex also being a little shit backs up Anakin’s story with so much sincerity that even Anakin believed it a little bit
The twins being the angels they are apologize to their auntie for her terrible origin story with tears in their eyes and her reaction more than made up for the swift ass-kicking the boys got
When Anakin was taller than Ahsoka he made her life hell by making fun of her every time something was even slightly out of her reach
He would make a big deal about grabbing it for her while commenting about how the temple’s architecture wasn’t made with the “young ones” in mind
Obi-Wan has turned multiple blind eyes when Ahsoka socked the shit out of his arms when he tells one too many jokes some days
When she finally grows taller than him she makes the biggest deal about it and no one can blame her
While Anakin is the pilot Ahsoka is easily the navigator she often jokes that Anakin wouldn’t find his way out of bed without help
Which is funny cause he often acts like a herding dog with her putting his hand on her back or holding her arm to guide her
But he’s wrong 9/10 times so it’s not uncommon to see Anakin guiding her in one direction and then see him get dragged in the opposite direction a couple of minutes later
#star wars#the clone wars#star wars clone wars#star wars headcanons#anakin skywalker#ahsoka tano#obi wan kenobi#padmé amidala#captain rex#luke skywalker#leia organa#ahsoka and anakin#snips and skyguy#disaster siblings#the padme bit was a little mushy#but everything else is based on true experiences#most of my sibling headcanons are#i just know they piss each other off#but like in a normal healthy sibling way#that last one is aimed at my sister#she's directionally challenged#she calls me vertically challenged#so we're even#I'm trying to get her to watch clone wars#which is an uphill battle#even tho she likes star wars
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What about big sister Shauna? :D
THE older sister relationship stereotype. think malcolm and reese but a little more tame
fucking hates you and hits you when you do so much as breathe in her vicinity but if anyone else picks on you it's Big sister mode. she'll leave them traumatized and maybe with a couple of bruises and takes you out to like 7/11 after to get some slurpees while being like "are you okay i love you i hate you im glad you're alive i fucking despise you"
did that thing when you two shared rooms where she'd place tape over her part of the room and if you crossed it at all she'd yell at you for invading her personal space 😭 ALSO did the thing where she'd pretend you hit her but it always backfired because you're the youngest and sweetest and an angel - according to your parents at least >__>
ohhhh writes up a storm about you and ur parents in her journal let me tell you.... especially her younger years like she was untamed.. it was looking like she was writing to some demons to fucking sacrifice you or something 😭😭
speaking of her journal, she went batshit crazy if you even looked at it, let alone attempted to snoop. HAD THE TECH JOURNAL OMG. the pink one that was voice activated. she cried for days when you straight up just broke it and wrote "poop-head" and "gay" all over her entries LMFAO
nothing was better than eavesdropping when she brought jackie over too omg...lying on ur stomach by her door and listening in to them talk about what they're gonna name their baby on sims
calling jackie shauna's girlfriend and it's the only time she's too flustered to insult you back
thinking about shauna begrudgingly coming to you for help to get more coins on club penguin because you're really good at cart surfer 🙄
she's more territorial over her books than her journal almost, but she'll lend you them. and maybe she tolerates you more because you're actually interested in reading them but she'll never tell u that....buying more books that she thinks you'd like 😖
i'd like to imagine her taking you to school in that fuck ass car of hers. ur surprised, and kinda bummed out, that it never broke down on the way to, and she NEVER let u mess with the radio >__> she'd rather crash while slapping ur hand away than listen to the music you pick
if we're talking about big sister shauna who's like...a year or two older, she'd act like she has no idea who you are when ur in school together 😭 you come up to her and her friends during recess and wanna play with her but she wants nothing to do with you 🙄 she feels bad when she sees you walking away with ur head down and makes a note to give you her brownie during lunch
the occasional time you'd get along, you make forts with her and watch ur favorite shows. tucking you back in bed with ur fav stuffed animal if you accidentally fell asleep :( she'd make you the Best homemade gifts ever for ur birthdays too!!!!! like a little book she made of stories to entertain you or that time she was really into clay and made you a safe to drink mug :3
at the end of the day, you wouldn't trade her for the world no matter how many times you wished she wasnt your sister
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2. ⟣ Toddlers In Training ⟢
Stray Kids x Platonic!Reader
Skz Family!AU | SMAU | Written | Humour
As I.N’s best friend Y/N knows the whole family pretty well, she’s asked to babysit Chris and Lixie quite often - which she couldn’t refuse having a large soft spot for the kids, this story follows her “adventures”as a babysitter and the madness which is the Skz Family unit…
(1393 Words)
⟣ Toddlers In Training ⟢ Masterlist | Main M.list
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Chapter Two: Sooooo Cute 🥰
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Knocking on the door, Y/N sighed - she had a great time on her bus journey over to Lina's home (note the sarcasm) and had just barely got to the door at five minutes to six. The door swung open, Lina had a bright smile on her face.
"Hey Y/N. Come in!" Y/N smiled back at the older woman, stepping through the door and removing her coat and shoes.
"Hey, sorry I wasn't here earlier. The bus took forever to get to my stop." she whined as Lina laughed,
"Oh, no worries, darling. It happens to the best of us!" the pair walk into the living room where an adorable scene took place.
Seungmin had Lixie in his arms, talking to her about where they were going and what was happening - Lixie was listening intently to her dad. Meanwhile, Hyuna and Han were talking with Chris who seemed to be in the middle of a little tantrum. They were both holding him as they spoke and he seemed to brighten up at little as his dad tickled him on the sides. Lina walked over to her sister who was sitting on the sofa, very engrossed in whatever she was doing on her phone.
"Innie, it's time for us to leave." the girl looked up from her phone, nodding before loking over towards Y/N,
"Oh hey, I didn't hear you come in." Y/N smirked before saying,
"Well, you were probably to busy thinking about your little boy toy." the teasing remark caused Innie's ears to go red as her older sister looked around towards her,
"Innie, do you have something to tell me?" the smirk on her face, showing she was teasing, Innie's ears got impossibly darker as her sister started to laugh. This caught the attention of the others in the room, Chris and Lixie squealed as they spotted thier favourite person in the room.
"Y/N!" Chris yelled jumping off of the sofa and running up to the girl, Seungmin also put Lixie down so she could say hello.
"Y/N! Y/N!" the small girl cheered, Y/N crouched down and opened her arms for the kids to run into,
"Oh, hello little ones! Are you excited for tonight?" both children nodded at her words.
"Okay babies, come and give us a hug before we leave." Hyuna spoke up, smiling at the scene. The children ran over to Hyuna and Han giving them a hug before running to Lina and Seungmin doing the same.
"Okay, you guys be good for Y/N and Innie!" Lina spoke, walking out of the door,
"Oh, Y/N, Binnie will be here later on to pick up Chris - though I don't know what time." Hyuna called as she was pushed through the door by Han.
"Okay! Have a good time guys, say hello to your parents for me." the babysitter called as she waved them off. Walking back into the house she saw Lixie and Chris sitting either side of Innie on the sofa.
"Right... what do you guys want for dinner?"
It didn't take long for the kids to set themselves up at the dinner table, colouring books and crayons infront of them keeping them quiet for now...
Y/N and Innie were preparing the meal while gossiping about what had happened since the last time they saw each other - which was like two days ago but the tea is always hot with those two, especially if Binnie's huge tiny crush on Innie was involved.
"He came into work, with two of his friends - I don't think he realised I was there at first and then they got to the counter. His friends were ordering, everything was fine and then it was his turn." Innie paused, leaning in so the kids couldn't hear, "and I kid you not, he looked at me, froze, unfroze, turned around, and walked out. His friends were like, what the fuck!" Innie giggled,
"No way! I can't belive he did that!" Y/N spoke, giggling as the image of Binnie running out of the coffee shop,
"Literally! His friends were whispering about something while they waited for thier drinks, they kept looking over at me - so like I don't think he actually speaks about me to them."
"Wait! No way... he has to speak about you?! He's literally obsessed with you!" as Y/N finished her sentence the front door opened, the girls looked at each other in concern before they heard a voice call out,
"Hey, its Changbin." the girls looked at each other with wide eyes before giggling quietly,
"Hey Binnie, we're nearly finished with dinner. Come and sit down." Y/N spoke out to the boy, while looking at Innie with a cheeky expression. Binnie walked in as Chris jumped up to go hug his older brother, his hero Y/N found out once - which she found incredibly cute. The older boy bent down to hold his baby brother as he looked up, expecting only Y/N but spotting Innie behind her, he froze.
"Uh, hello… girls." he stuttered out, unsure on what to do. They pair smile down at him with knowing looks. Lixie seems to finally notice her big cousin, jumping down to greet him - taking his attention away from Innie.
"Hey, Lixie. How are you little one?" the three cousins started to talk as Y/N and Innie plated up food, Innie lent over towards Y/N once again,
"I have to admit that was sooooo cute." Y/N giggled, nodding.
"Bets on him flirting with you in the next ten minutes?" she teased, eyebrow raised at her bedt friend.
"Ain't no way am I taking a bet I have no hope in winning." Innie challenged, Y/N laughed before picking up some plates.
"Hey, the least you could do for him is flirt back!" she turnt towards the table, but not before catching the embarrassed look on her best friends face.
After dinner, the kids were allowed to play for a little longer, Innie went to play with the kids as Y/N and Binnie tidied up.
"How's life at the moment, Bin?" Y/N spoke first, she had known Binnie as long as she had known Hyuna and Han but never really had full coverstaions with the guy.
"Uh, yeah, it's good. Uni is kicking my arse but other then that lifes good. How about you? I hope Chris has been good for you." Y/N smiled, humming before responding,
"Uni is a pain, I understand completly. Chris is an angel ninty-nine percent of the time." the pair laughed at that, his concern about his little brother made her think about the age difference between them and how shocked Y/N was at first. Until, Innie had explained the difficulties that Hyuna had getting pregnant and the many miscarriages that she had gone through - it almost caused a huge rift between her and Han because Hyuna thought he would eventually leave her, or worse cheat on her to have another child. Luckily, Han managed to calm her down and they worked it out. Two weeks later they found out that they were expecting once again - Han literally waited on her hand and foot, making sure she was never stressed about anything and thats when they had Chris - a baby most definitly born of love and adoration. The story made Y/N cry, thinking about having a love like that was almost impossible at her age.
The pair finish the dishes in silence. Walking into the lounge, Binnie spoke,
"Hey Chris, we've gotta go buddy. It's time for bed soon." Chris pouted but got up to get ready. Y/N helped him with his coat and shoes as Binnie said goodbye to Lixie and Innie. Lixie came running out to also say goodbye to Chris, who was a little off put by the hug but reciprocated anyway. The brothers walked out the door with a wave.
Soon after Lixie was put to bed, Lina and Seungmin walked through the door. Y/N and Innie were quick to greet the couple, who sent them on their way with payment and making them promise to message once they got home. The girls left, deciding to have a sleepover at Y/N's, instead of going their seperate ways in the dark.
————
⟣ Toddlers In Training ⟢ Masterlist | Chapter Three
If you want to be added to a tag list lmk!
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(Warning: I don’t actually ship idols/band-mates together, it’s just for subplots!)
Author’s Note: I hope you enjoyed this part of Toddlers In Training! I’m trying to post one part every 5ish days but as assignments and exams are coming up for uni idk how good I’ll be sticking to that!
If you like this, check out my other Stray Kids SMAU:
Oh To Be A Cat In Love <3 (Lee Know x Fem!Reader)
#⟣ Toddlers In Training ⟢#Series#smau#lee know x fem!reader#lee know smau#lee know imagines#lee know x reader#lee minho x fem!reader#lee minho smau#lee minho x reader#lee minho imagines#stray kids x fem!reader#stray kids smau#stray kids x reader#stray kids imagines#Chapter Two: Sooooo Cute 🥰
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I just saw an Elriel post that highlighted the "mating bond is a bridge between souls" line and then showed Feysand quotes to emphasize the point. They then showed the Elriel quote, "the only bridge of connection between them...that knife" and a quote that says how Lucien had "done nothing to bridge the gap between them"
I find it ironic that they used that specific quote for Elriel since it literally says that the ONLY bridge of connection between Elain and Azriel is truth teller, and then Elain gives truth teller back. Meaning there is no more bridge connecting them.
Also, I will never understand how they bash Lucien for apparently not trying hard enough to connect with Elain, but as soon as he does try anything, they scream that he's possessive and taking away Elain's choice. So, what exactly do they want from him?
Also, there is a quote from Lucien where he literally says that the bond between him and Elain is real, "it's a read thread." So, is there an emotional gap between Lucien and Elain right now? Yes, which is completely understandable. But is there also a mating bond, a bridge between souls, between them? Also, yes.
To your point at the end, it is ok there's an emotional gap between Lucien and Elain. I don't want them connecting in someone else's book, I don't want Elain's feelings to be evident for him where I'm not getting to experience it all from her POV. I don't want a flashing neon sign proclaiming "they're in love!" rather than seeing it happen in their story. SJM left me enough hints to feel confident while still looking forward to their romance playing out in real time.
Also, this wasn't in the novella for shits and giggles:
"Stay out of it. She's not ready, and neitehr is he, no matter how many presents they bring."
"Let him live with his Band of Exiles. Let him deal with Tamlin in his own way. Let him figure out where he wants to be. Who he wants to be. The same goes with her."
"Just be patient. It'll sort itself out. It always does."
"I want them to be happy. All of them." "They will be" She said the simple words with such unflagging conviction that I believed her.
That covers it all. The reason Elain and Lucien are currently at odds, the reason Lucien still has not attempted to bridge the gap. Neither is ready, they still have too much of their own problems to figure out before they can turn to romance. Elain needed to accept becoming fae, needing to consider the possibility of actually being with a fae (and not jumping right into an intense mating bond), Lucien needed time to really think about what he wants from his future, where he wants to live (it's not going to be the human lands forever), how he wants to deal with his relationship with Tamlin. Now that SF has ended they've had 16 months to do exactly that and there's a good chance that Mor's prediction is about to take off.
The funniest thing is they'll destroy Lucien's character for keeping his distance from Elain while applauding Az for doing the exact same thing. Lucien can't stand being near Elain because he sees her current distance and it hurts him. It's evident he still thinks about her, he asked Feyre how she was doing, brought her a present, asked if she still mourned Graysen (which means he is respecting the love she had for someone else). We know an unfulfilled bond can drive males mad and that is another reason it's a strain for him. Az avoided Elain because he can't stand the scent of her bond. Did she ask him to stay away? Did she ignore him?
Lucien is doing what he's doing because he's respecting Elain's clues for space and time though it pains him to do so.
Az is doing what he's doing for his own selfish reasons. Elain could have used a support system in the NC over the past year but Az chose to focus on his own needs instead of what would have been best for her. The scent of her bond isn't going anywhere and he chose to make that the driving factor of whether to spend time with her or not which means he'll never spend time with her unless the bond suddenly disappeared. That's not a worthy male.
And yes, "the ONLY bridge of connection, that knife."
Which means, after Elain returned TT, there was no remaining bridge of connection. Sure they were willing to make out but the author is LITERALLY telling us there's nothing to support their pairing long term. The one thing that seemed to connect them is not the foundation that true love is built on. It makes me laugh when this line is used romantically but when the other hints that are used throughout the series also receive the blinder treatment, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Like Elain and Az outside, his leathers SO AT ODDS with the beautiful garden. Or Elain with spring blooming behind her and death on the other side. Elain sitting in the sunniest windows, as if "any bit of darkness was abhorrent", Elain in black, "no matter that she declared herself part of this court, it sucked the life from her."
A near kiss and a few glances mean nothing when the author is continually feeding us line after line about how Elain is not where she's meant to be and she's not ending up with the guy who is completely at odds with her in every way despite her efforts to distract herself from her problems by engaging in a crush on him.
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Helpless part 40, It is very often nothing but our own vanity that deceives us
"Neeks, you awake?"
"What time is it?" The Hades child mumbled, pushing his hair out of his face.
"11:24."
"How the fuck am I still tired?"
"Because you still need to catch up on sleep and you're off drugs medical and others after a while so you're still adjusting."
"I'll be honest I didn't process half of that." Will rolled his eyes teasingly, walking over to mess up his hair more than it already was. Will started to look through some files he'd brought in with himself as Nico started to get ready,
"Can I braid your hair?"
"You know how to braid?"
"Not very well, but Kayla made me learn a few years ago before she had to let Aussi cut her hair on a dare."
"I can imagine how well that went, but sure." Will sat next to him, brushing out and parting his hair before starting to do a french braid. "Do you have the second volume of Heartstopper?" Will laughed, quickly kissing Nico on the cheek.
"I can't believe I thought you were straight but yes, I have all the books."
"I can't believe I thought you were straight."
"Think you were the only one Neeks."
"Oh shut up Solace."
"Don't think I will di Angelo."
"Gods save me."
"What do you want to eat?"
"Nothing." He answered almost instantly,
"Not an option."
"I'm not hungry." He promptly ignored him and pulled out three ceral bars from his pocket,
"Pick one."
"Leave me alone."
"Do you feel sick?"
"I- I- just... can't, drop it William."
"I'll leave them here, just eat when you can, alright?" He said, half hugging him.
"Fine."
"Nico, have you considered talking to someone? Maybe keeping a journal as well?"
"Only if you'll also get help." He couldn't think of something he wanted to do less but Will needed help, desperately.
"It's not your job to worry about me."
"Will, I'm your boyfriend, it really is."
"Are you comfortable with the idea of talking to someone?" He was fine, he knew he was worthless what's the point of lying to himself.
"N-no." Fuck, this wasn't going the way he hoped.
"Nico, you don't need to do anything that you aren't comfortable with, that won't help. Also... I'm sorry about last night.. I- it's- yeah I'm just sorry."
"Will, no one's perfect, you need help, please, just try to."
"Neeks, I'm fine, really. I was just shocked last night and yeah, there have been a lot of people in the infirmary because of the war normally it's just less hectic." Lying through his teeth, he hated himself for it but that's fine, just another thing to add to the endless list. He wasn't Nico's responsibility, he doesn't need anything else on his mind.
"Just, take a break every now and then, I swear you're always working."
"Actually Kayla's ban me from working for the rest of the week soooooo."
"Good, you need it. Wait does that mean I don't get to see you for a week?"
"Nope, you can't get rid of me that easily. Apparently I'm too much of a simp for that, but I have a feeling she's timing it to make sure I don't spend the whole day here."
"I can see that happening, but you need a break so she is completely right."
"I really hate you sometimes di Anglo."
"I know." He whispers, blowing the son of Apollo a kiss.
"Solace, times up!"
"Better go Sunshine, also... I'll try journaling, I don't know if it'll help but I'll try."
"I'm proud of you Neeks," He ruffled his hair before pressing a soft kiss to his lips, he kissed him back, wrapping his hands around his neck."I'll see you soon."
***
#percy jackson#percy jackson and the olympians#percy jackson fandom#nico di angelo#pjo#fanfic#will solace#solangelo#annabeth chase#fanfiction#percy jackson fanfic#percy jackson fan fiction#percy jackson fic#percy jackson fanfiction#percyjackson#fan fic writing#fan fic#fan fiction#solangelo fic#my fic#fic writing#solangelo fanfic#solangelo fanfiction#gay#leo valdez#reyna avila ramirez arellano#jason grace#piper mclean#frank zhang#hazel levesque
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A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 1) Chapter Five
Kusuo Saiki x Reader
Chapter Five: Ramen Shops
Summary: Saiki goes to a ramen shop (he is dragged there by a bunch of bothers)
“We still aren’t there yet?” asked Kaidou.
He, Nendou, (Y/N), and Saiki were heading to a ramen shop that Nendou had heard about. Saiki had gotten roped in as usual. He wanted to get coffee jelly with (Y/N), but he instead was stuck with Nendou and Kaidou, too. He thought it couldn’t get worse than being with two of his bothers and missing out on coffee jelly, but he was proved wrong. (The world hated him and wanted to prove everything could always be worse).
“Oh, Saiki? What’re you doing here?”
There stood Teruhashi, glowing and sparkling as usual.
“Oh!” squeaked Kaidou.
“T-Teruhashi!” stammered Nendou.
The boys blushed profusely as they looked at the perfect pretty girl.
(Y/N) gave a friendly wave.
“What’re you guys doing out together?” asked Teruhashi.
“Well, Nendou said he knows a good ramen shop, so he’s taking us there,” said Kaidou, rushing through the sentences nervously.
“That’s right! We’re headed there to pig ou—I mean, eat!” said Nendou.
“It’s our first time checking it out,” added (Y/N).
“Oh, ramen, huh?” remarked Teruhashi. She glanced over at Saiki. “If you don’t mind, can I come with you? Am I being a bit pushy?” She winked cutely.
“W-Well, I don’t mind!” squeaked Kaidou.
“It’d be great if you came!” said Nendou.
“The more the merrier!” chirped (Y/N).
Seriously? You, too? Saiki sighed.
This is the perfect chance to get Saiki to say “Oh, wow” and stop paying so much attention to (L/N)! Sure, they’re not ugly, but I’m the person he should be paying attention to! I’m the perfect pretty girl! thought Teruhashi as they walked through the streets, gaining attention from passersby.
“Is the shop this way?” she asked angelically, completely at odds with her aggressively competitive thoughts.
“Ah, yes,” said Nendou rather formally.
(Y/N) was laughing at their friends’ sudden transformations (excepting Saiki, of course).
At least they’re enjoying themself. Saiki supposed one person enjoying themself was better than none, and although he’d rather be the one enjoying himself, he preferred when (Y/N) was happy. It was what they always should be.
“Why, I didn’t expect you to eat ramen, Teruhashi,” said Nendou, a strangely gentlemanlike face on his face.
Saiki was glad Nendou’s strange face could distract him from his own new thoughts.
Teruhashi giggled. “Say, Kaidou.” She turned to the suddenly shy boy.
“Y-Yes?!” he squeaked nervously.
“Why do you always have bandages on your hands?” asked Teruhashi.
“Oh, I do it so my powers won’t go out of control!” stammered Kaidou.
“Powers…?” questioned Teruhashi. “Sorry, I can’t quite understand what you’re saying.”
“Well, it just got like this! I don’t even know why!” Kaidou began unwinding his bandages while blushing heavily. “I’ll take them off!”
(Y/N) caught the gauze, rolled it up, and put it in their pocket. “He’s probably gonna regret that once she’s gone,” they whispered to Saiki.
So they notice that people act odd around Teruhashi. That means they probably are being genuinely nice to Teruhashi, not just being affected like everyone else. (Y/N)’s just a nice person. Saiki wasn’t surprised by that thought. (Y/N) was a genuinely good person. It was a reason he liked to be around them. Tolerated them. Put up with them. It all meant the same thing. (it did not).
They’re so excited! But that’s just natural since they can have a meal with me, the prettiest girl in the world! thought Teruhashi. So why are they acting so calm?! Kunio Kunio! Why aren’t you saying “Oh, wow”? That should always be your reaction when you see me! And (L/N) (Wrong Name)! You don’t act differently at all! And Saiki always pays attention to you, even when I’m the perfect pretty girl! What could you possibly have that you don’t?!
Yare yare. (Y/N) doesn’t bring attention to me or try to make me act differently. Saiki could just be himself.
What makes so that a cool, mysterious guy like him that has a gaze who could look right through you… Teruhashi became lost in her fantasy.
Saiki made a face.
(Y/N) laughed. “That’s the most you’ve ever changed your expression!”
Saiki schooled his expression. They were unfortunately quite observant, still.
Oh, no! I take it all back! Even in her own mind, Teruhashi couldn’t allow herself to obsess over a boy. It all had to be about making him obsess over her. At any rate, I’ll use my charm to make him look at me instead of them and say “Oh, wow” today for sure!
I’m attracting her attention. Saiki hadn’t gotten away from her at all.
“Ah, we have arrived,” said Nendou. He pointed at a small restaurant. “This is the ramen shop.”
“Wow, I’m hungry,” chirped Teruhashi. “Oh, wow.” She turned blank uncomfortably.
“Whoa…” muttered (Y/N), making a face as they looked at the rundown shop.
“I heard their ramen is crazy good,” said Nendou. “A relative of one of my friends’ dog walkers said so. It’ll be fine.”
“So it’s a rumor…” said (Y/N). That’s never good.
“Hey, don’t be stupid!” cried Kaidou. “There’s no way Teruhashi woulg go in a place like that! You don’t want to eat in a nasty restaurant like this, right, Teruhashi?!”
“W-Well, I’m okay with it,” said Teruhashi blankly and begrudgingly.
“A-Are you sure you’re okay with it?!” asked Kaidou.
“Yeah, I’m fine with it,” lied Teruhashi.
(Y/N) leaned over to Saiki and whispered, “Do you want to pretend we’re not hungry and go to Café Mami after this?”
“Yes, but let’s go along with this for now,” said Saiki, but he was happy to acquiesce to (Y/N)’s idea. Sweet treats with someone he…fine, someone he enjoyed being around, sounded nice. Hopefully, this will dampen Teruhashi’s interest in me if she gets disgusted by where she thinks I hang out.
(Y/N) grinned (slightly devilishly). “You’re enjoying this.”
Saiki just looked at them. Yare yare. Too observant.
“Well, a little bad luck builds character in people,” chirped (Y/N). “Besides…I trust you, Saiki. You’re not exactly going to revel in somebody being miserable. Anyways.” They waved their hand. “Teruhashi will probably head home afterwards and get offered some fancy food to make up for this. The others will be fine.” They turned away.
Saiki blinked. Huh.
The group walked into the shop. It was even grosser inside and completely empty.
“What is this place?! This is beyond terrible!” said Kaidou. He looked at Teruhashi. “Hey, seriously, you don’t have to push yourself.”
“I’ll be fine,” lied Teruhashi expertly, “What’s important is the taste.” She smiled angelically.
They all sat down at a table.
“Manager!” called Nendou. “Five ramens, please!”
“Oh, no, thank you,” said (Y/N).
“Oh, you’re not going to eat here?” asked Teruhashi.
“I had a snack earlier today!” lied (Y/N), smiling brightly. “Plus, I forgot to bring money with me, and I don’t want to bother anyone today!”
If they can lie this well, maybe I should worry about not being able to read their thoughts. Immediately after, Saiki dismissed that worry. (Y/N) had a good heart and was earnest as far as he knew. He could trust them.
Not that that mattered in any way. It was just a thought.
“Oh, alright, pinky, next time, then!” said Nendou.
That’s how easy it is?! Maybe I should lie about having to leave… considered Teruhashi.
Yes, please.
No! I am the perfect pretty girl, not an average girl! I will persevere!
The manager walked out. “Alright, four ramens coming up then.” He was extremely sweaty, balding, and unhealthily overweight. After fixing their dishes, he walked back over. “Here ya go.” He set the bowls down.
The ramen smelled terrible and was spilling from cracks in the bowls. All in all, it looked uneatable. (Y/N) became even more glad that they made up an excuse. Their companions, who had not done anything to avoid this, all had rather nauseated faces.
Teruhashi began to eat the ramen robotically. Clearly, she was forcing herself through this. Kaidou and Nendou watched in shock (neither saw that she was making herself do it).
“I-I don’t think you should eat it,” stuttered Kaidou warningly.
Teruhashi blinked.
(Y/N) nodded. “That might be unsafe.” Sure, they were fine with some things not going Teruhashi’s way; it was something people had to learn to deal with in life (even perfect pretty girls). However, (Y/N) wasn’t mean. They wouldn’t willingly endanger someone’s health.
“Hey, pops! Even pigs wouldn’t eat this stuff!” yelled Nendou.
“Shut up! Then beat it!” shouted the manager.
Quickly, the teenagers cleared out of the disgusting restaurant. As they walked away, poor Teruhashi clutched her stomach. Nendou and Kaidou tended to her sympathetically.
The perfect girl, huh? Hmm…If she can go that far in order to play the perfect girl, maybe she already is perfect. Saiki’s eyes trailed over to (Y/N). Well, perfect for eight billion people. Other people are better for me.
To spend time with, anyway.
(Y/N) looked at Saiki. “Still want to go get coffee jelly?”
“Yes.” Saiki didn’t even need to think about that answer.
“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go!” Grinning, (Y/N) grabbed his wrist and pulled him behind them as they ran into an alley that led to another street. They left Nendou, Kaidou, and Teruhashi far behind.
The perfect person. To hang out with. To just be with.
Saiki was glad to smell Café Mami’s sweet treats baking as his thoughts spiraled.
Finally, the pair stopped outside Café Mami. (Y/N) was panting but laughing. Saiki just watched them, slightly amused in his own way.
“Let’s go in! I’m starving,” said (Y/N).
In response, Saiki nodded. They grabbed a table in a corner so that anyone passing by wouldn’t notice them. (Y/N) knew he’d prefer the privacy. They ordered and quickly received coffee jelly. They both sighed contentedly as they took their first bite.
After a time, (Y/N) looked up at Saiki. “So, what was that whole thing with Teruhashi earlier?” When they got no response, they sighed. “Come on, I know something was going on. You clearly didn’t like the look of that restaurant, and you admitted to testing her in a way. So, what was it all about?”
“She brings attention to me when she hangs around. I think she wants me to say ‘Oh, wow’ since I don’t.” Saiki ensured his explanation was phrased as a theory. Otherwise, he risked outing himself as a psychic. (Y/N) was pretty happy-go-lucky but could make a connection from observations pretty easily. Saiki had to be careful. They showed common sense at all the wrong times.
“So it’s the Teruhashi version of interest in a guy?” (Y/N) laughed. “I guess people always want what they can’t have.” Somehow, that statement made their heart clench, and they almost frowned but focused on Saiki again.
Once again, their insight is correct. I want normalcy, something I can’t have. And I want… Saiki watched as (Y/N) happily continued to eat their coffee jelly. He felt comfortable and normal with them. He felt like he could be himself without fear of judgement (minus psychic abilities). You’re the only one I can admit is my friend, (Y/N).
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#a not so disastrous romance#x reader#gn reader#nb reader#x nb reader#x gn reader#the disaster of psi kusuo saiki#saiki kusou no psi nan#kusuo saiki#saiki x reader#saiki k#saiki kusuo x reader#saiki kusuo#saiki#saiki k x reader#the disastrous life of saiki k#saiki no psi nan#kusuo x reader#kusuo saiki x reader#tdlosk
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and i will always, always, be defending the "plot-holes" that are not actually plot-holes at all. i've seen people on facebook complain so many times about the ending of the game - about the siege of talmberg to be more exact.
"just attack it", "just take it down", "why doesn't divish just do it", "ohh his wife he can't even fuck! nobody gives a damn", "henry doesn't even really care for radzig at this point" etc.
and i have to go back to that one solitary thing this game literally cannot exist without: love. it's the main aspect, it's the pillars the story stands on, it's everything.
medieval movies and books like to picture the old times ala skyrim: "my son was very young when he died. but he did so while doing his duty. he fell for skyrim! he fell for the empire! i do not mourn for i am proud!"
"oh, i loved my father more than anything. but he is gone now. that is life."
it is. but. hear me out. people back then - were actually just like people now. we break down when we lose someone we adore, cherish, love, protect. no matter how stoic we may be, we don't take it lightly, do we?
so, if you think about it, is it a plot-hole, when divish refuses to attack his castle because
it's his home and he loves it
his wife is in there
his friend is also in there?
robard would not attack if it were divish in there. radzig would not attack if it were henry in there. hans would not attack if it were hanush in there. istvan would not attack if it were erik in there. captain bernard would not attack if it were hans in there.
it all comes back to love. and wanting people you care about safe.
martin running back to certain death because his wife is in the village when the cumans attack.
both parents worrying about nothing but their beloved son even while they are being brutally murdered.
everyone on talmberg willing to lock henry up just to keep him away from skalitz (for reasons yet unknown).
theresa making a last stand for someone just as lost as her.
the understanding he's met with when henry comes and admits his failure to radzig, the fact that he went against direct order. (nothing, absolutely nothing else but radzig being in debt to martin, or radzig being someone close to henry, could explain the understanding, the acceptance, and the outcome of the whole situation. how do you think henry - who is just a young man, not a hero, not a dragonborn, not a chosen one - would get away with all this?)
henry backed out of the night raid on talmberg because hans was wounded and wouldn't survive long enough for the mission to succeed.
hans (in one of the outcomes) carried him out on his back, saving his fat ass. no time for glory, no time for saving the hostages when it's suddenly your best friend who is on the ground and bleeding out. he might have succeeded with the mission. yet he didn't hesitate when suddenly it was him who was put in the shoes of those who just wanted to keep their loved ones safe. it was stephanie for divish (he approved the raid). it was radzig for henry (he was the one who went first and most willingly). and it was henry for hans (who immediately backed out on henry's behalf). all those actions were based on love.
would you attack talmberg, knowing there was someone you loved? someone you wanted to know better, someone you wanted to learn how to love, someone who could have been much closer if he only tried? someone you only just met?
the whole story starts with love, continues with love, ends with love. it is everywhere you look and you don't even have to romance anyone to see it, to feel it. it is in the npcs' lives, it's the motivation behind so many actions. it's in henry's decisions. in your decisions.
because, don't you just love this game?
#kcd#kcd talk#kcd brainrot i welcome you back#and fuck off i need to live and sleep#kingdom come deliverance#hans capon#henry of skalitz#radzig kobyla#divish of talmberg
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