#anyway the reason i want to know this is that. this part of the fic can be skipped. you dont NEED to read it

[fyorina]

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

[morgana-larkin]

I love angst for some reason, but can you write a Melissa x reader breakup fic? Where reader is in their mid 20’s and Melissa is obviously wayyy older than her. Melissa realized that they’re both heading in different paths in life and tries to gently breakup with reader, but calls her all the pet names like “kid/kiddo, young one, little bunny, etc” (this is taken from Taylor Swift’s ‘Illicit Affairs’ where she’s going “don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby, look at this godforsaken mess that you’ve made me…”)

Maybe a part two if you’re feeling up to it, with gentle smut as reader and Melissa get back together and make love again? 👀

Oh I’m definitely making a part two to this, I mean I can’t leave things with Melissa on a sad note. So I went with the nicknames hon and kid. I did ended listening to the Taylor Swift song and based some of the things off of the song. And I just gotta say that I procrastinated on doing this for 4 days straight as it hit too close to home. I called off my engagement 3 months ago to someone 15 years older than me because we were heading down different paths in life. Anyway, not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: still taking prompts peeps!

Don’t Call Me That

Warnings: Angst and no comfort, no happy ending, may break your heart like it did for me

Words: 2.25k

You and Melissa are cuddling on the couch watching real housewives. Melissa found out you’ve never seen it so of course she had to show you. The two of you have been together for about 8 months now and never been happier.

Well, you have never been happier. Melissa was happy, but she still has so much doubt on whether or not she should have gotten with someone so much younger than her. Especially when you made comments on what you want to do with your life.

“I hope to get married someday.” You said once. “Maybe we can have kids together.” You said another time. “We should go out to a bar or a club together sometime.” You said one time. Melissa just looked at you and smiled each time but didn’t reply. Those thoughts swirl around in Melissa’s head until one day she couldn’t ignore them, you both wanted different things and she couldn’t let this relationship go on even more.

“Hey hon, can we talk?” She says to you when she visits you at your place on Saturday.

“Alright, sure.” You said, none the wiser. You and Melissa go on your couch and you face her with a smile. Melissa wishes you weren’t smiling as it makes it harder knowing that she’ll be that reason for that smile to drop.

“I don’t think this is working out anymore.” She starts and you look at her confused.

“What do you mean?” You ask and you frown.

“I mean this.” She says and gestures between you both. “Our relationship, I think we should end it.”

“Why?” You ask, concerned.

“Because we want different things in life hon. I don’t want to get married again, I wanted kids before but not anymore, and I don’t want to go to clubs if I don’t have too. But you’re young, you should have things you want and you should do it.” She tells you and you look down at your lap. She really wants to comfort you but knows she can’t.

“So that’s it? We’re over, just like that? I have no say in this?” You ask her and she looks guilty.

“I’m afraid so hon.” She says and you snap you head up at her.

“Don’t call me that if you’re gonna break up with me.” You snap and that catches her off guard. She knows you might be upset but didn’t think you’d snap at her, but she doesn’t blame you.

“I’m sorry y/n.” She tells you.

“Please leave.” You say and she nods defeatedly. She gets up and walks to the door and opens it. Before she leaves, she glances at you.

“I really am sorry.” She says and leaves. As soon as she closes the door, you get up and lock it, then you put your back on the door and slide down while crying.

On Monday you walked in the doors of Abbott and went to the break room as usual. Only this time instead of saying hi to Melissa when you pass her, you just walked right by her to the fridge.

“Hi hon.” Melissa says to you.

“Don’t call me that.” You say as you put your lunch in the fridge. Everyone turns their attention to you and Melissa as they knew you were dating. “My name is y/n.” You say to her and go to make a coffee.

“I know what your name is.” She tells you as you pour the coffee into your mug.

“Then I suggest you use it.” You tell her and walk out.

Melissa sighs and leans back into her seat.

“Trouble in paradise?” Barb asks Melissa.

“If trouble you mean broken up then yes.” Melissa says and everyone gasps.

“Omg what happened?” Janine asks.

“None of youse businesses.” She tells them and walks out. Everyone turns to Barb for answers.

“Don’t look at me, the only thing I know is Melissa broke up with y/n if their emotions are anything to go by.” Barb tells them.

Melissa tries to talk to you for the rest of the day when she gets an opportunity but you keep shutting her down.

She keeps trying every day for 2 weeks until she had enough. She got Mr Johnson to watch over her class while she goes to talk to you during your prep period.

She knocks on your door and walks in after you call out a ‘come in’ to whoever was there. When you look up you see the person you least expected, mostly because she has a class right now.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be teaching?” You tell her as she closes your door.

“Mr Johnson is watching them until I get back. I need to talk to you hon.”

“I keep telling you not to call me that! And the last time we talked, you broke up with me so I don’t really want to talk to you.” You told her and she sighs. You get up and go to bring a stack of papers to the back of the classroom.

“I know but I’ve been trying to at least be friends with you like we were before we started dating because I like our friendship.” She tells you as she follows you to the back and you whip around to face her.

“Friends? You think I would want to be friends with you? Melissa, do I need to remind you that you broke up with me and didn’t even bother talking about it with me? You just made the decision on your own.” You grit out.

“It was the best decision.”

“For who exactly? Cause it sure wasn’t the best for me.” You tell her and she looks at you.

“It was for you. I made it for you so you can have the life you want. I can’t give you everything! So I let you go so you could! Believe me when I tell you that I didn’t want to break up with you! You are the best damn thing to happen to me and it broke me to let you go!” She tells you and you gasp.

“That’s the reason?!? You. Are. An. Idiot Schemmenti! Just because I may have thought about certain things doesn’t mean it’s set in stone. I’m 25 and I’m not certain about what I want to do in life.”

“See that right there is what I’m talking about. You have no idea what you want cause your life has just begun, while mine, well I’m 55, I’m going to retire in 10 years hopefully. My life is almost over.” She tells you frantically and at that Barb comes in.

“Girls, can you quiet down. It’s hard enough to teach 5 year olds how to read the alphabet as it is. It’s even harder with your yelling.” She tells you both and you look at Melissa.

“What I knew I wanted in life was you. But I guess I was wrong. You should get back to your class.” You tell her and you leave to go print something. “Sorry Barb.” You tell her as you pass her by.

Barb looks at Melissa who has a couple tears rolling down her cheeks. “Sweetheart, what were you trying to accomplish here?” She asks her and Melissa lets a sob escape.

“I was trying to be friends with her again.” She tells her.

“Melissa, you just broke up with her out of the blue. At least for her it was out of the blue. You have to give it time before she might consider being your friend again.” Barb tells her and Melissa nods.

“I know, I just, I miss her.”

“Listen I have to go back to my classroom and you have to go back to yours but how about you come to my classroom at lunch and we can talk then.” Barb suggests and Melissa wipes her tears away.

“Ok.” She says with a nod and then leaves back to her classroom.

2 months go by and Melissa has stopped any interaction with you. You still know she looks and stares at you but never talks to you.

Melissa can’t help it whenever she sees you, she never talks to you even though she wants to, she just stares at you. Her heart breaks every time she sees you.

10 weeks after she breaks up with you, your both in the break room along with everyone else. You’re talking to the trio and they ask about your weekend plans and you mention you have a date. Melissa whips her head up from looking at her phone and her jaw drops and eyes got watery.

You may not be able to see her face but you saw her whip her head up. You also see Barb looking at her sympathetically which means she must look sad right now.

You tell them your contemplating on whether or not you should go, you think you shouldn’t but Janine and Gregory tell you to go and Jacob tells you no. You go over to Barb for the tie breaker and you show her a picture of the girl, Melissa also sees the picture of her and she realises that you’re going out with someone around her age.

Barb tells you it’s your choice and that’s when Melissa pipes up. “Isn’t she too old for you kid?” She asks you while taking a bite of her pasta.

You glare at her and scoff. “I think that’s for me to decide, cause I do have a say in some things.” You tell her and she looks down guiltily.

On Monday morning you walk in the break room and the trio asks you how your date went.

“It was alright. We’re going out again this Saturday.” You tell them and you hear Melissa scoff. “Something you want to say Melissa?” You ask her and she turns around in her chair.

“It doesn’t seem you’re interested in her since you said it was alright.” She tells you.

“Well it was my first date with her and I haven’t had a first date in a year.” You say and she stands up, grabs her things and walks out. You turn back to the trio and continue the conversation. Barb follows Melissa out to make sure she’s not destroying anything or about too.

The next Monday you’re talking to the trio about your second date and you tell them that you’re not going to see her again as you’re not interested in her. You don’t see it but Melissa smiles. You don’t but Barb sure does and rolls her eyes at her.

It’s been 3 months since the break up now and you stop by quickly at Melissa’s to get a few things she recently found that’s yours. In reality, Melissa found them 3 months ago and hid them when you came to get your things so she would have a few reminders of yours but now she wants an excuse to talk to you.

The box of your things is on the coffee table and Melissa is sitting on the arm of the couch when you walk in. Melissa told you that she’ll leave the door unlocked for you.

“Are those the things?” You tell her and nod your head to the box and she nods at you.

“Ya, it is.” She tells you and you don’t really move, she sees you looking around. You usually went to her place about 3 times a week to hang out with her after school and she would make dinner for you two.

“How are you kid?” She asks you and you look at her.

“I thought I’ve told you to stop with the nicknames and use my actual name.”

“You have, but I like using nicknames for you.” Is all she says.

“Why?”

“Because I always have, I’ve rarely called you by your actual name. It feels wrong to call you by your actual name.”

“Well you might want to work on how to make it sound right.” You tell her and walk over to grab the box and she grabs your wrist and you gasp.

“You never answered me when I asked how you were.” She tells you.

“You really want to know how I am?” You ask and she nods. “I’m broken.” You told her and her eyes look upset. “You broke up with me and now I’m broken and a mess. I chose not to go on a third date because all I thought about on the two dates was you.” You tell her and she lets go of you but you make no attempt to move. You want to challenge her to something to see what she really thinks and you grab the back of her head and you kiss her. She’s stunned for a second but then she automatically kisses you back but then you pull back 3 seconds later and she looks at you shocked. “You can’t tell me that that doesn’t feel right. I may not know much about what I want in life but I know I wanted to spend it with you. I’m aware of the age gap but it never made a difference to me because I love you. I thought you loved me.” You tell her then you grab the box and leave.

As soon as you close the door, Melissa falls down on the couch and starts crying. “I’m so sorry y/n.” She sobs out. “I do still love you.”

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

@lilfartbox1

@ricejucie

Let me know if you want to be added!

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti #x reader #fanfic

[pomefioredove]

Can we have kalim's ending for the yuu auction as well? I was pretty excited for his outcome

of course of course!

parts 1 | 2 | 3

summary: a kalim ending type of post: short fic characters: kalim additional info: yuu is gender neutral, this is maybe a little short, hi kalim :)

"Problems don't just go away when you throw money at them, you know," Vil says. The tone of his voice is sour, and he's making no effort to hide it. "You'll have to actually take some responsibility."

Leona rolls his eyes. "Oh, shut it. They're not a pet, they can handle themselves. You're just butthurt it wasn't you,"

"And yet, here you are, still moping just the same," he snaps back. "Kalim, congratulations. I'm sure the prefect will- where'd he go?"

Despite their best efforts, Kalim hadn't heard a single word of the other housewarden's well wishes (and warnings).

He was gone before they'd even started, in fact.

Even with all he'd had prepared beforehand- the new room, the uniforms, all of your favorite foods- there was suddenly a list a mile long on his mind.

First, he had to get you.

Then, he had to show you around your new place.

Then, dinner.

Followed by dessert, of course.

(Maybe a light appetizer to start? Why hadn't he thought of that already?!)

And then he'd treat you to an evening of your favorite songs, laughter, and fun.

So on, and so forth.

Kalim may be a little oblivious at times, but your poor condition at Ramshackle is no secret to anyone. He'd been talked out of helping more than once before- and, so, this was his chance.

The gravity of technically owning a person who doesn't legally exist in this world hasn't crossed his mind even once. The way he sees it, he gets to host you indefinitely, take you on vacations with his family, treat you to the life you deserve after all you've done for everyone, and no one can tell him no.

Though, something still sits in the back of his mind, something that asks him to walk before running. A voice of reason.

If Kalim had a shoulder angel and devil, both of them would somehow be Jamil:

"I would advise taking it easy on them as they adjust. This whole spectacle must have been difficult for them. You're a good listener when you try. Now's a chance to show that,"

More than anything, Kalim wants to impress you.

Such a thought would make anyone else scoff- the gold and jewels and magic carpets aren't enough?

And his answer would be... well... no.

Kalim possesses many things. He has entire houses full of treasure, trinkets, fine silks, servants at his every whim... and yet, he's still missing something crucial. Something he's become more and more aware of since coming to NRC.

A bond.

Of course, he loves his siblings. And his parents. And the students in Scarabia. And the students in the other dorms. He might consider all of the above friends, but not at the emotional level he seeks. Jamil is a work in progress. But you- you're already well-acquainted, and friendly. You're a gracious guest, a great listener, and... well, you had the kind of bond he looks for with so many other people on campus.

Why else would everyone be lining up to pay to be your friend otherwise?

(That's how he saw it, anyway).

So, he listens. Makes an effort to, anyway. He even stops feeding Grim at dinner when you ask him to.

"Oops!" he says, offering the direbeast a gold-lined handkerchief to wipe around his mouth. "But it's good, right? Jamil's family recipe is always delicious!"

You quirk a smile at him. "I liked it. Grim?"

Grim mumbles something indistinct and crawls to sit on the other side of you.

"I'm glad! I remember you telling me that you miss it from your home- I can't believe some of our recipes are so similar!" he beams. "Maybe Scarabia will start feeling like a home to you, too, then!"

You laugh, a little awkwardly. "Aha... maybe. This is all just so sudden,"

"But... good, right?"

"Yes, good," you smile, tilting your head to the side. "It's a step up from being Crowley's errand-runner and sleeping in the cold, at least."

"Well, you'll certainly never be cold here!"

He laughs again, and a murmur of agreement ripples through the students in attendance, all the way down to the end of the long table.

"Ah... Kalim, this is nice. Really nice... I don't know how I'm going to repay you for any of this,"

"Pay? Like with money?" he raises an eyebrow. "You're my guest, and an honorary member of Scarabia now, so you don't have to do anything but relax."

That's not exactly what you meant, though you don't have the heart to explain what exactly Crowley's care had been like.

"...Right. But really, if you need anything done- I'll be glad to do it,"

He's quiet for a moment, thinking. "Well... if you're really bored, I'm sure you could find something to do. We have lots of board games,"

"No, I meant like, work,"

Kalim blinks. "Why would you have to work?"

You should've just let it go. Now this is getting embarrassing, admitting all that Crowley had you do when you had no say in the matter.

"You know... to earn my keep,"

"Earn your..." he squints. "You don't have to earn anything. Having you here is reward enough for me!"

Sometimes his oblivious nature can be a little comforting.

And even though it's dark, his positivity is as radiant as the sun... you can't help but return his smile.

"Alright, then,"

"Alright! Now..." he says, looking around the table. "Who's ready for dessert?"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #kalim al asim x reader #hope you like this anon <3

[naompspsps]

Uhhhhh, *Moonwalks into ask box* Shawty ily fr /p you and me one in the same, I literally two two very long chapters of a new fic today and having the Pomfiore boys was a cherry on top…..now I have a new idea for you….

What if the dark mirror picked up a child reader, like 8-10 y/o…how would the staff and students react? 🤭

Their reaction to 8 years old you.

Summary: You're an 8 year old kid who was always left out with your friend group, So while you watch them have fun, you just decide to sleep on a nearby bench.

Then you wake up in a strange.. Large room. Where are your parents? You don't know, and you don't remember for some reason. You remember the part where you felt left out, but you don't remember who were the people that pushed you out of the group.

You just appeared out of the dark mirror, leaving you to wander around the school with students looking at you. But then, they come to help you.

Ft. Divus Crewel, Dire Crowley, Mozus Trein and Ashton Vargas.

A/n: This was so fun to do lmao, now i wanna see Heartslabyul's reaction next. Anyways hi shawty, how r u.

Taglist bcs I wanna do it for fun: @frootloopscos

! do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site, Reblogs are appreciated alot though !

Ashton Vargas

He gives out the vibes of being a babysitter that you never plan to let go. Ever. Like, he made your whole life better just with one single idea that he pulled the whole student army for. That's a memory you never want to forget.

Vargas definitely made the students play with you, easily. With one command, They're already following. Obviously, He becomes the usual supportive audience with the other students, like it's some football team game.

Vargas was surprised into seeing a little kid, but who wouldn't be surprised? It took him only seconds to smile brightly and take the opportunity to babysit you. He looks like someone you could trust so, Here you are, with Vargas in the field.

You sit beside Vargas during class Comfortably, wow.. So many students on brooms! Your eyes sparkle. Oh.. How you wish to get to have fun like that. You look down on the grass.

Students look at you, Like they've heard of the rumours about you appearing out of nowhere without any memories of who were the people you knew back there. You play with your hands, bored.

You can't really have fun. It's like, forbidden for you. Maybe, it isn't.. As Vargas looks at you. "Heyy, Champ, What's wrong?" He kneels down beside you, a hand on your shoulder.

You look at the students on the broom, then back to your hands. "I'm just.. Bored." You whisper out.

Vargas thinks for a moment, then looking down at you, noticing the way you looked at the students and embarrassedly looking away. "Hmm.. Say, You wanna play?" You quickly look at him. Did you just hear that right? Play? You nod eagerly yet, excitedly.

He laughs out loud, "Alright! Students! We have a playmate!" Vargas cracks his knuckles on his hand, before lifting you up in the air and yelling. "GET THEM!!"

One of the students quickly fly down to you, grabbing you in a protective hold infront of him, just so that you won't fall. You look down. "Woooah!" You hold onto the broom. "Fun?" The student asks, You look up at them with a bright smile plastered on your face. "Mhm! Mhm!"

You can hear Vargas shouting from down there, cheering you on. "Here, throw this in that hoop." The student hands you a ball. You look at the hoop. "But it's too far!"

"It doesn't matter, go ahead and try." You use all your kiddie strength to throw the ball. To your surprise, It actually hit. You could hear Vargas and the rest of the students shouting and cheering. So did the student behind you also laugh and praise you.

"GOOD JOB CHAMP!!!" Vargas jumps and raises his fist up in the air. The other students offer Vargas chest bumps. How could he refuse to those in such a worldwide champion?! "...Look away, Kid." The student behind you whispers, covering your eyes with his hand. "Huh?" You question.

Mozus Trein

Trein wants to treat you like you're his other grandchild, you're just so adorable that he wants to take you. So, He does! Even if he thinks you would bother the class, Well, You didn't. You were just playing with Lucius under the desk.

He would realize so quick that you might be sweating in there, so he just brings you out to sit on his chair while he teaches, Lucius on your lap and letting you pat and caress him.

You walk with Trein inside of the classroom, The whole class filling with 'aw' and 'so cute''s, But, Does it bother you? No, Does it bother Trein? No. Does it bother Lucius? Yes. Lucius meows loudly at the students, telling them to shut up.

You look up at Lucius, who was getting held by Trein. Trein looks at you, as you make grabby hands. "Carry??" He asks. Damn, He's too old for this. You shake your head. "No? What is it?-- Oh, Lucius? You want to hold Lucius?"

You nod. Trein walks up to his desk and places Lucius on the desk. You walk at the side of the desk, hiding from the students so you aren't much of a bother in their class. Lucius jumps off the desk and lands on the ground, walking closer to you.

You watch Lucius get comfy on your lap. He wouldn't mind right?.. You gently rest your hand on his fur, and he doesn't resist. Then you slowly caress him, and he still doesn't meow or scratch you. It might take a while.. You mutter to yourself.

It's been, How long.. 40 minutes? You've been hugging and playing with Lucius for a while now. It's bit hot in your spot.. But you also don't want to disrupt Trein's class. So you just, continue running your fingers through Lucius' fur.

You don't even notice Trein looking at you. "[Name], Child, You're sweating. Go ahead and take a seat here." Trein pats on his chair. But isn't he..- Oh- He's teaching. Oh well. You stand up, carrying Lucius in your arms as you plop on the seat like a slime.

That causing everyone to let out giggles of how cute you were. You cover yourself embarrassedly, Looking down at the cat and pretending you're busy. But even if you don't understand, You still try to by listening to his lectures.

Yeah, Okay. You don't Understand a thing with the lesson. You sigh softly. The thoughts of your friends' blurred faces in your head. You remember the situation.. But you can't remember their faces and their names. It's like they're just. Unknown to you now.

You kick your feet on the Chair, playfully pointing at the ceiling and closing one eye, Just doing random things by boredom taking over. At this point, Everyone can't focus with you acting so adorable. It's making them forget what part of lesson they're in right now.

"And that's the-" Trein looks at everyone in the class, seeing that they all had their focus on you. He lets out a frustrated sigh. "Oh dear. My child. Could you tell them to focus in my lesson?" You look at the class, trying to look tough.

"Go back to studying!" You yell, which everyone starts giggling more. "Uhh.. It didn't work.." You look up, only to see Trein holding his laugh. "Goodness, You are such an adorable child." He mumbles before announcing the most heart dropping, air losing, oxygen needing in a bad way news ever.

"Also, Homeworks about today's lesson. It's due tomorrow."

Divus Crewel

He is skeptical of the issue at first, He doesn't even know what to do with you. But as time goes by, he starts to get comfortable with you, and ends up wanting to stay hanging out with you.

He brought you everywhere, Class, Lunch, Breaktime and even in his office. Everyone just isn't used to seeing the strict and cold teacher so warm around you.

You stare at Crewel. He stares back. While the rest of the teachers watch you both intesely stare, He takes a deep breath. "..Want a beer?" Crewel asks. "THEY'RE 8." Crowley shouts. "I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M SUPPOSED TO DO."

"Oh dear.." Trein sighs. You walk closer to Crewel, tugging on his coat and giving him your dog plushie. Crewel just looks at you blankly. "I'm keeping the kid." He picks you up with ease and walks out of Crowley's office. "So.. We won the argument?" Crowley turns to Trein, who just nods. "We did."

You stayed with Crewel the entire day, not a single moment of you staying away from Crewel. In class, You just sit on a chair, taking a nap. Hugging the plushie that was in your arms. The students couldn't focus, nor could he. Not to mention, one of Crewel's dogs were on the desk, allowing you to use them as a pillow.

A few minutes later, You slowly open your eyes and yawn. You had a good nap.. You look at Everyone, who looked dead serious of getting a good grade. You get off your seat and rush towards Crewel. "Nice dream?" He asks, picking you up again. You look down.

You see the cauldron filled with magic. "Woah.." You gasp, seeing the liquid turn to a different color. "Cool?"

"Yeah!"

With your cuteness, it makes most of the students clench on their chest with tears in their eyes. How could you be so adorable?!

"Wanna mix, pup?" Crewel gives you the big stirring stick, and you take it, slowly stirring. The liquid is a bit thick.. So you struggle to stir it. But who says that's something you can't handle? You see the liquid turn purple. "Oooh.." You lean in closer.

"Is it interesting to see? Well watch this." Crewel puts a drop of another chemical, making it explode glitters. "WOOOAH!!" You yell. Crewel sighs. "Don't adopt the kid.. Don't adopt the kid.." He mumbles to himself.

Staying with him during his lunchbreak wasn't that bad at all, He just brought you in the courtyard to go to the flowers, And while you do that, you pick a red rose, run to Crewel and hand him the flower with your cheeky little grin.

Crewel has officially lost it. In a good way, He feels like his heart's been shot millions of times.

Dire Crowley

Yall heard of the theories that Crowley might be Malleus' dad? Imagine that /j Nah, He'd have absolutely no idea what to do. But he just makes you stay in his office, Bring you to special lessons with his own hat on you instead.

Students may think him without a hat is weird because they've never seen him without it (cough cough book4 crowley cough), but looking at you makes them forget everything.

Coming out of the dark mirror was.. Confusing for Crowley, He had to blankly have a staring contest with the dark mirror. But he feels like he needs to find out why you don't remember your parents but you remember what happened back there.

Not even that, You weren't even crying at the fact that you literally do not know where you are or who were the people around you. You were just.. Nonchalant. Maybe still sleepy, but nonchalant. Crowley made you stay with him until he figures out what to do with you.

Should he adopt you? He doesn't want to send you to an orphanage, He thinks you're too special to be there.

Watching over you isn't that hard. All you did was sleep on him while he wrote his paperworks, play around and not bother him. Atleast you didn't give him a hard time.. But because of that, After he was done with his paperworks he asks you if you wanted to play with him.

How could you say no to that? You both ran around the office, putting on hats and random stuff. It was fun, you had to admit.

So, Now you're with Crowley on the rooftop, right under a classroom. "Okay, so what I want you to do is hold on to me and we'll be alright." Crowley whispers to you. You nod, holding onto him tightly.

Crowley jumps in the classroom from above, landing perfectly. Oh! You're still wearing his hat.. And his coat! "SPECIAL LESSONS!" He yells. Everyone looks at him weirdly. "Headmage.. Why do you look like th- OH MY GOODNESS!" A student points at you.

"AWWWW" Is all you hear in the classroom. "Special lessons!" You shout excitedly. You don't know what special lessons are, but just follow Crowley's lead. Cro- Crowley??

He's on the floor.. "THAT IS THE CUTEST KID I'VE EVER SEEN." Crowley sobs. You're just too cute that you even had the headmage tear up.

"But- Special lessons.." You mumble. He clears his throat and quickly gets up. "Ahem, Right. Right, Thank you, Little Assistant." Crowley takes his hat off your head and gives you little pat before putting the hat back on you again.

Author's End Note: I'm putting Sam in the next part along with Heartslabyul, I can't 🗿🗿

! do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site, Reblogs are appreciated alot though !

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #gn reader #kid reader #twst #divus crewel #twst divus #dire crowley #crowley #twst dire crowley #mozus trein #twst mozus trein #twst trein #ashton vargas #twst vargas

[karenandhenwillson]

Fandom and Ships

In the last couple of weeks, we have seen the number of fics in the Bucktommy tag skyrocket. Which is pretty exciting and amazing and a clear sign of how very excited the fandom is about this development. But of course there is also backlash, mostly from people who suddenly see their preferred ship in danger. (Honestly, when has a canon ship ever stopped fandom from shipping the people involved with other people instead?)

It's expected that some Buddie fans are disappointed. It's also expected that they would lash out (though, I had hoped people could for once remember there are adults and just because everyone is anonymous in online spaces doesn't mean there aren't people sitting behind those keyboards getting hurt by baseless accusation of racism and other things). I should probably not be surprised they are now also using the low engagement we have always seen with Henren as a weapon.

So, let's talk about fandom and ships.

There is no question that there has since season 2 always been the most engagement with Buddie content in this fandom as a whole. People saw the chemistry between Buck and Eddie and ran with it. Compared to that, the canon couples have all barely any content.

But if you look at any fandom at any point in time, there is a clear pattern between canon and fanon ships. There are only very few select fandoms where canon couples ever got a lot of engagement. Of the various fandoms I've been part of, I can only think of one at the top of my head.

I think the reasons are pretty simple. 

First of all, the fans get that couple on their screen pretty regularly. They don't have to wish and hope for it, don't have to search for the little details that will validate their headcanon. They don't have to go into fandom spaces to find content for that ship. They can just lean back without any kind of effort and enjoy this ship right on their screen.

And then second, those who do create fan content for those canon ships have to balance a very fine line. What of the canon facts will they dare to contradict to create their own content in fanfiction? (Fanart, videos, gif-sets are probably a little easier there.) Where and when do they deviate from canon? Is there even anything they feel is missing from canon that they want to see in fan work? Do they want to risk contradicting anything that will be established in canon later on? Usually, this conundrum leads mostly to short fics about missing scenes, but nothing truly epic. At least not as long as the there is new source material fairly regularly.

People creating content for purely fanon ships don't need to bother with most of those questions. Because they are deviating from canon anyway. It doesn't matter much then how far they go with that. Everything canon that comes later will just be dismissed with a shrug. Everything canon that happened previously and they don't like can be dismissed just as easily because they are already dismissing parts of it.

Then there is a clear divide between hetero, maleslash and femslash content, no matter if canon or fanon. There are probably people much better suited to get into the gritty little details about that. I'll just share some thoughts I have about any of those ships in this fandom because of my experience as a fanfiction author.

I've always been writing and telling stories. And I started writing fanfiction pretty early on, too, because I found a lot of freedom there in the content and relationships I could explore. Looking back, I've always mostly written maleslash. But I've also always had hetero and femslash pairs in my works. Have had works that focus solely on those pairs.

I know as a teenager I wrote mostly maleslash because I just got a lot of engagement for that. And back then that was a great motivator to publish my fanfiction. It's not my motivation to publish now anymore and it's never been my motivation to write at all. So there are some stories about hetero or femslash couples on my hard drive that I just never published back then.

For 9-1-1, I've been writing many of the ships there are. More than once I focused on characters who don't get much attention otherwise, not even in canon. I have some femslash stories published, most of them Henren. They don't get many klicks. And the comments I get are from friends I actively talk to very often who just read about anything I publish. Or from some very dedicated readers who I seem to have enamored enough with my writing that they'll follow me into pretty much any rabbit hole, I think.

I like Buck and Eddie a lot as characters. I adore Christopher. So, I enjoy creating for them a lot. But I also enjoy creating for the other characters and I'm scratching that itch regularly. But no matter the reason for why I write (because the stories are just in my head and the only way to get them out is to write them down), sharing what I create is more fun when I'm finding engagement over it. So, there are stories that are outlined or even fully written who I'll maybe never publish.

Where were all those Buddie fans in the past who now complain about the missing content for Henren? Where was their support for those who have written Henren all along only to be practically talking into a void? (Right, just as it was never about queer representation for some people, it was never about Henren either. No matter what they say now. They are just searching for the next thing the mob might be latch onto so they can pretend they are right.)

#911 abc #bucktommy #henren

[valenteal]

Ok I have an idea for a fic and idk if anyone would be interested in it and rn I only have a concept rather than a specific line in my head which is how I usually get going. It’s not just coming to me so if I write it it’s going to take more energy than usual so I’m gonna throw the vague idea out there and if anyone is actually interested I might write it.

Anyway the idea is that Touya Todoroki used to play Star Wars: the Old Republic, he had his own laptop and an annual subscription and he played pretty frequently as a way to vent his frustration when he couldn’t sneak away to train or when he had already tired himself out but wasn’t ready to sleep. All his characters, every last one, is dark side. He doesn’t really do multiplayer, doesn’t have any friends he plays with and mostly sticks to the story quests. His main character, the one in the center of his legacy tree, totally maxed out and op, super cool outfit, designed to resemble Touya himself, is Darth Dabi. Dark side Sith Warrior, but he’s not cruel to his own companions. No romance with anyone until SoR where he can’t help flirting with Theron a bit. Anyway not the important part here just my brain going on a tangent.

The important part of the story is that after Touya “dies” Shouto steals his laptop. Everyone is grieving and different people take turns packing up Touya’s things so no one notices when a single item goes missing. Shouto just took it because he knew it was something fun his siblings got but he didn’t. His access to the internet was extremely limited and he just wanted to know what he was missing. He wasn’t able to actually do much with it, especially when he was still little but by the time he’s like 11 he’s figured it out. He explores what Touya had done on it, found school work and such but then he came across a document that Touya had used to record his swtor character backgrounds and reasoning. Touya didn’t like, write the whole story, it was just for himself to remember what he was thinking while he played, why he made which choices an such. He checks out swtor and luckily Touya had auto fill passwords and no security key. And lo and behold the subscription is still renewing annually and Touya had only played on one server. Shouto claimed another server for himself and started playing. He had so many cartel coins it was insane. He had a really easy time getting started but the more he played and figured out what Touya’s character notes implied he got worried about his brother even though Touya was already dead. He mostly puts it out of his mind but he realized that Touya was kinda not okay at all.

Years later when he meets Dabi for the first time he just kinda stops in his tracks and stares until blurting out “are you actually using the sith name you came up with in middle school to be a villain? Should I call you Darth Dabi now?”

#fic idea #mha #touya todoroki #dabi #shouto todoroki #my hero academia #swtor #would anyone read it? #don’t steal #humor

[pa-pa-plasma]

#polls #tumblr polls #fanfiction #fanfic #archive of our own #ao3 #believe it or not this isn't actually for like. me needing to know about hiatuses #this is just a sneaky way of finding out. something else #Danny Phantom #;) #on an unrelated note how do you feel about waiting somewhere between 2-9 months for a fic to continue on its original course? #it's probably closer to 2 if i actually do it #i mean the fic would still be updating but it would be. uh. spoiler alert cant say it'd just be 2~ months til the main storyline continues #i've been given the go ahead from someone who knows about it all but i need to know how people feel about rereading #it wouldnt be rereading but there would be an element of things repeating. it would seem to be repeating at first but isnt #oh my.... wait no.... i think i just realized where i got this idea from & it's killing me how i failed to see this sooner #literally listening to the soundtrack & watching all versions of it bro. i'm an ADHD stereotype #anyway the reason i want to know this is that. this part of the fic can be skipped. you dont NEED to read it #but you would need to wait for the rest of the fic to continue if you choose not to read it #it IS kinda important. it's just. A Lot #okay saying it's skippable but also important seems weird but trust me it's all in the name of beating this kid to the ground #''character development'' no. character deterioration #how can i make him better if he isn't super fucked up #he can't have a mental breakdown if he's happy. & i need him to have a mental breakdown #yeah im going the psychological torture route #also this isnt about timeloops btw. it might sound like it but it's not

[hiemaldesirae]

i have less than 24 hours left before i have to go through one of the most stressful days of my life so. heres a list of my fav radiostatic fic recs in no particular order

clarification: by radiostatic i mean fics where vox is 100% not the dom in the relationship. most of these dont contain explicit sex though, and im not recommending any straight porn fics here because you can easily find those with a click and search through the bottom vox tag lmao

most of these fics are unfinished, so be warned that i will not take accountability if you get attached to these without them being finished properly. in fact ill just laugh at you because then we'll be suffering together

now, that aside- starting off strong with some of the more popular fics:

RHTVS / Radio Healed the Video Star by Aspiring_Forest_Witch

notes: LONG fucking fic. like this guys almost 700k words long fic. one of the best things ive ever read in my life though and it has a plotline thats frankly more engaging than the actual showing of hazbin on amazon. so. you know. if you have the time to read it Please do you wont regret it

Unraveling Emotions by Xaelei

notes: one of my favourite fics ever on god. started my brainrot for dad!husk, portrays one of the most scrumptious radiostatic dynamics and is generally so very well written that i might end up trying to recreate one of the scenes in comic form. genuinely in love with this fic and im so glad i can say i was the first comment on this fic because my God its such a treat to see new chapters drop for this. unfortunately i havent had the time to write out a detailed comment as of now but if someone wants to let the author know that im still in love with their fic and will continue supporting it until i drop dead go ahead for me

Safe with Me by rillyrillo

notes: the prequel and main fic of this series is human radiostatic, though the sequel is set in hell. it comes with gorgeous gorgeous art and frankly one of the most exhilirating endings ive ever had the pleasure of witnessing play out. i recommend you guys check out their other fics too, the art continues in them + their radiostatic is written wonderfully across all universes!

A Month of Rut by Vylad

notes: this fic is very self indulgent to me. i love the way radiostatic is written in this one because theyre very soft and sweet, but others may not prefer it if theyre looking for freak4freak radiostatic. if you just want something to indulge in and relax with at the end of a heavy day though this is my #1 rec. i read this sometimes when i find myself crying at night lmao

Down, Up, and Back Down by CowboyEnthusiast

notes: made me sob like a baby. 10/10 no notes whatsoever read it for yourself because you WILL not regret it. i genuinely am always at a loss for words whenever i reread this because it is among the most gutwrenching but beautiful and poetic works that ive ever read and i think it deserves some recognition

Mind the Gap by ZLynn

notes: again, to reiterate, i do very much dislike the abusive!staticmoth portrayal i see in a lot of fics. but in this one... it's written so perfectly, i can definitely see it actually happening. i enjoy the way that val does still seem to care about vox, albeit in his own twisted way that eventually breaks and fractures their love and trust, and its just. Ugh. So fucking good

+ with the less popular but still wonderful depictions of radiostatic that i love to indulge in:

i'll give you a show (cause it helps fill the seats) by dead_and_dreaming

notes: absolutely shameless plug from me for my dear mk's work because i cant stop thinking about the way that she's portrayed al here. its actually insane how fucked up that stupid little deer is and i just. i really fucking love the way that their alastor is written, it's genuinely probably my Number One depiction of alastor ever. i demand more of this stupid little freak RIGHT NOW!!!!

Any of the fics by Rachello344 in the Hazbin Hotel Fandom Tag on their profile

notes: so remember when i told you guys i wouldnt be linking straight porn. looks away... okay in my defense though i read the smut for the characterization and their unique dynamics. its sooo interesting to see how their radiostatic is explored here and im honestly refreshed by the depiction of their relationship. im here for it !!!

The Read 'Em and Weep Series by TooManyPseudonyms

notes: so from what i was able to piece together (everything flies over my head when im reading, forgive me for my low media literacy) this is an au set before the hotel where (in the first work) al and vox are in a qpr relationship. in the second work this evolves into a romantic relationship, and the exploration of their dynamic through this is just... Yeah. please read it its 100% worth your time and so underrated it hurts my heart

Uneasy by Saezs

notes: this fic is one of the first radiostatic fics i read (the others being RHTVS and... i think i tried the 666 series, but it didnt appeal to me lol) and its actually just wonderful. i really love saezs's genderfluid vox and how supportive the other vees are of them <3 their portrayl of the characters puts a smile on my face whenever i reread their work

Heat Waves by HappyPRAWN

notes: i'll be fr dsmptsd hit me like a truck when i read the title but it is such an interesting debut! only at one chapter as of me making this post but the way the author wrote this is so engaging and it really makes me wonder what they have next in store for the fic

Do I have your attention now? by Chi_Chi25

notes: wow no way we have the same name... anyway ahem. ill be completely honest this ones a bit of a guilty pleasure for me. this fic is a bit fragmented and short, so for people who click off fics when they see imperfect grammar this one may not be for you. however if you can look past that, it has an engaging storyline and quite the juicy concept :)

Killer Ex by FanGirl48

notes: gorgeous, gorgeous little human! radiostatic oneshot. i love the relationship that vox and al have here... the reasons why they both stayed away from each other even though theyre still so very clearly down bad for each other... anyway. i think about this one a lot and i still go back to reread it sometimes lol

Negotiations by FanGirl48

notes: i didnt realize until i started making this list that this fic was also written by fangirl48.... go off queen keep feeding us (me). this one was a fic recommended to me initially by link nonny, and i can 100% vouch for how good it is. its got appletv interactions, radiostatic plus lucifer trying to navigate heaven, angels... basically everything needed for a very varied and well packed with flavour story

The diary of a Serial Killer by ShippersCave

notes: okay im running out of brain juice at this point but. yeah this fic is soooo self indulgent to me. this ones another human au, with al as a serial killer and vox as the journalist trying to conduct interviews with him. its got SUCH a good dynamic between al and vox, i encourage you guys to check it out and give it a chance even if youre not really into human aus.

My heart's been pierced by Cupid by ShippersCave

notes: pirate/siren au !!!!!!!!! RAAHH !!!!! i dont have to say anything else for this if thats not enough to get you to click then i dont know what is

System Shutdown by Swoolie

notes: i cant believe i nearly forgot about this one LMAO... vox goes onto a temporary hiatus and everyone goes crazy about it. im not really sure if this counts as radiostatic frankly because of the way its tagged but its so good i think you should give it a read anyway

Together in Radio Static by Anonymous

notes: QPR media husbands radiostatic au !!!! i love this one especially because it opens off with vox slapping alastor across the face for leaving him LMAOO (deserved)

What Has Been by Tianren

notes: another human au (YEAH YEAH I KNOW. JUST HEAR ME OUT OKAY i swear im cooking) look, as someone with religious trauma deeper than i can properly express and the worlds fifteenth worst parental issues, the depiction of vox in this fic just really hits home. i really adore the exploration of voxs past and how the themes of religious guilt and cults are woven in so far- and it blends very seamlessly with their human au, despite the characters eccentricities

you're too sweet for me by awestruck_atrophy and moonbeanies

notes: basically, vox and al make a deal where vox tries to help him out of the shackles or whatever that are bound to him because of his stupid dumbass lusting for power. its very intriguing so far and i love the setup and worldbuilding the authors have done, so you should check it out if you want a unique perspective on radiostatics relationship

candlelight by curtailed

notes: the best way i can think of to describe this one is like... fake marriage but instead of fake marriage its. fake roommates??? the author probably puts it better than me tbh. its super interesting so far, i cant wait to see where this one is headed especially with how unique its premise is!

Zero Day by Anonymous

notes: this one is like those time regression manhwas. you know, the ones where the protag goes back in time and proceeds to try and avoid everyone who made their life miserable- only to fail because for some reason now they're paying attention to them more than they would have had they stayed the same person. its certainly very promising, though! i do love indulging in time regression stories, especially when the mc is someone i love like vox. i really cant wait to see which direction this one is headed in :)

Never as Good as the First Time by IComeForFanficsNowin403

notes: okay. so, uh. um. so- this one is in spanish. HOWEVER its premise (serial killer alastor meets television star (?? i think. its not quite clear) at a party hosted by rosie, moves into his neighborhood to keep an eye on the pretty prey) is just so unique i honestly think its worth the experience to pull out google translate and try living the machine translated life. really. give it a chance. also its got beautiful art to go along with, so.. you know. thats just a bonus!

+ honorary staticmoth and one-sided/past radiostatic fic rec:

Freak-A-Zoid by Femalefonzie

notes: this fic deserves every single piece of praise its ever gotten because good lord. its SO good. i was not seeing the radiostatic twist come in, but it *is* mostly staticmoth. and also a/b/o but i mean. who *hasnt* indulged in a little bit of a/b/o before honestly

there are other fics that i personally like to indulge in, but i frankly wouldnt recommend to anyone else because they're either the kinds of fics that i myself can only bring myself to read after ive spent 8 hours at work crying into my pillow and need to look at something entertaining, or when im starved of content and cant be bothered to cook myself so i pull out the translator and start going at it. (technically i should know how to read french by now but. urgh. anywway..)

#ran rambles #radiostatic fic #radiostatic #fic rec #fanfic recommendation #hazbin hotel #honestly ive probably forgotten a few bangers but my brain is melted by now #if anyone wants to add their own recs feel free. these are just my personal likes #ive read stuff by arctic and addicted ofc but those ones are basically known by everyone afaik lmao. swm is known everywhere too #but thats a bit diff because it is part of an expanding series. so #anyway i didnt like some of the more popular fics like 666 or addicted but i know many people like those #and for good reason too because theyre wonderful! just not to my personal tastes and thats fine

[todayisafridaynight]

I’m fairly new to the fandom, but I do have a question if you can answer it! Why do people ship Daigo with Aoki / Masato? I tried looking to see if they’ve interacted before, but couldn’t find anything! Sorry for asking I’m just </3 dumb AND I LOVE YOUR ART OF THEM!!! Nerd looking ahhhhhh

hi ! welcome to the community i hope you're having a lovely time so far and ty for enjoyin my stuff :) no need for apologies it's a very fair question to have :]

i cant speak for everyone (all. ten people into masadai anyway) but Personally To Me i just think the idea of them together is very funny. thats quite literally it im afraid..

#snap chats #//twenty page google doc in the background// ignore that. it's mostly for comedic purposes #might also be my fault idk sorry about that. allegedly. idk ive had like three people tell me they started to ship them cause of me 🧍‍♂️ #@mementoasts is another person who's drawn masadai and whose stuff i love and am inspod by .. i love their disneyland fic sm ... #there was another artist on twitter who posted a neat drawing of them but i cant remember who they were and i didnt bookmark it //screams// #recently there's been ANOTHER masadai artist ive started following on twitter - @wifekiryu. his account's n/s/f/w fyi before you go looking #he has a tumblr too @foxdies. i say cause i realized as much recently vjeaKLGJALKGJ #oh but I GUESS ill get deeper into why. /i/ personally ship masadai or whatever #first off they're opposing factions yet their character alignments Do Not Match their roles. stereotypically anyway #aoki who leads the 'surface' of society and is meant to be an admirable figure and someone 'just' when really. he sucks LMAO #though that's not atypical of politicians but just from a stereotypical This Is A Respectable Individual perspective of his role #daigo on the other hand leads the 'underbelly' of society- yk comprised of dangerous criminals and outcasts and whatnot #yet as we know him daigo's compassionate and considerate of his men- he doesnt treat them like tools like aoki does #if put in a room with the two daigo would be most people's choice of person to hang out with. probably open a trapdoor on aoki tbh #and i think thats really cool and epic i always love that kinda Subverting Expectations thing #theres also the fact they both started off like. edgy/angsty in the franchise and then brush up down the line #masato does a stronger 180. publicly. obviously but its still really funny they both have to get their act together #if you wanna talk about in-text reasons. there really is none LMAO I TELLS YOU masadai is pure crack #but if i wanted to pull a muscle reaching then there's daigo being on aoki's side while everyone else is on arakawa's during the funeral #im lying of course. mitsu was behind him. rgg tryna make me forget mitsu exist .... put him back in y8 .... #and ofc ichi joins that side to even out the seating but moving on another Goofy Reason is arakawa being like #'the chairman and my son are like p much the same age Surely he knows how he thinks :)' #and then i just think daigo being all smarmy about outsmarting aoki is really goofy and im choosing to interpret that as personal #they both also have issues with their dad. s. dad/s/. anyway. #tbh the google doc tag was a joke but i really could sit here and list every dumb reason why i think theyre funny together #like i started going over the tag limit so uhhhh yeah needless to say i have a lot of. dumb reasons 💀💀💀💀 #one day ill use the main text for long rambles like this but todays not that day Point Is my imagination is rampant im afraid #so the short and sweet of it is I Think It's Funny. And They'd Be Terrible Together. Which Is Why It's Funny. #and the unfortunate part is anything i find funny i obsess over for a year so. //gestures to the mountain of bullshit thats my masadai tag/

[gallifreyanhotfive]

You know the anxious feeling you get when you're almost done writing a chapter for a fanfiction and you're wondering if anyone will like it? Wondering how many people will open it and be disappointed? And you've worked hard on this chapter, have been writing and editing it for over a month, and you know some people won't appreciate the effort that went into it? That they might hop onto your Tumblr and send you a message or leave a comment disparaging it? That even though you tagged it thoroughly and warned people about what your purpose behind writing it is, they might argue with you, try to convince you to change it?

This might just be my anxiety disorder speaking. Feel free to ignore the anxious ramblings of a fic writer.

But the thing is, I've been a fic writer for over a decade. I know the sort of comments I could potentially get.

I am anxious. No matter how many wonderful people read and comment on my fic, I will always be anxious. You cannot separate me from that anxiety.

Oh dear.

But I suppose this is also me saying I'm almost finished the next chapter!!! Yay

#yes this is about my watching the show fic lmao #almost done but i will always worry about how it's received #its in my nature to do so #and i know many of the readers dont want me to write about the classic and eu stuff #but that is the whole reason i started that story in the first place #and if im not enjoying writing a story why would i continue it? #anyway my readers are lovely people for the most part and I'm not talking about anyone #but me i guess #me and my anxiety #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3

[skoulsons]

I tried to write a drabble and it’s not working out so

Joel forgets sarah. he completely forgets her, no recollection whatsoever. And what’s the one thing he has of her? The soccer photo.

So Joel shows up at Tommy’s and asks him who it is. Joel suspects who it is, of course, because who else would he get a picture like that with? But he still needs the confirmation.

So Tommy tells him. He tells Joel about Sarah and it damn near breaks his heart that Joel doesn’t share the same feelings that Tommy does.

He talks about how smart she was. He tells Joel about her kindness and how she was always the first to give or help out.

He tells him about Sarah’s love for soccer and how the picture comes from their teams win at the state championship—a win because Sarah scored the final goal and Joel was over the moon a thousand times over.

He tells Joel about Sarah’s taste in music and how much Joel hated it and the exaggerated groan he’d always let out when Sarah played it loud enough for him to hear.

He tells Joel about their movie nights and Joel skipping out on college football nights with Tommy and friends to stay in and watch another old classic with Sarah instead. Or, a late night screening to movies like Dawn of the Wolf

He tells him about how they travelled around Texas a lot. Sarah loved museums and she’d always drag Joel out to another she found intriguing. Art, history, memorials, any one she wanted. A day Joel was off work usually meant a trip to another museum.

Any question Joel has about Sarah, Tommy tells him honestly. And when the inevitable question falls from his mouth, how did she die, Tommy can only mutter three words.

She was shot.

His reluctance to continue tells Joel all he needs to know. Another day, he hopes.

As painful as it may be, he wants to remember her as best he can. A kid he’s never met. A kid he’s only been told a few stories about. A kid who was so violently taken from the world—from him. A girl who, if she stepped in front her father, holds no place in his heart anymore.

He wants to remember her. Every part of her life he can know, down to her death. He needs to remember her.

He had a life with her. Twelve years. And he’s since forgotten all twelve, only to be told scrambled parts of the latter half of her life from someone she didn’t even see every day.

In her fathers mind—every beautiful, intimate and loving memory of her has been long forgotten.

The memory of her life, his daughters life, only carries on in Tommy now.

#for some reason #the end of this feels anti Tommy and I don’t know why #I can assure you it is NOT #we love uncle Tommy #anyway yeah I was gonna drabble this but I just couldn’t #brain was frying 🧠🍳 #also can someone tell me why every time I try and write carries #if autocorrects to Carrie’s???? #why would I want to write that. why. #the last of us #the last of us part 1 #joel miller #tommy miller #L fics

[thaliagrayce]

i've been talking abt my voltron playlists and @iveofficiallygonemad asked to hear them and i want to share with anybody who wants!! i know they're not perfect, i'm working on them & trying to make them better. if you have any recommendations for any of them, let me know!! there's like A Lot and i want to give a lil explanation for most of them, so i'm putting them under the cut ^-^

SO first i have my favorite one <3 it's just. all of them. it's the whole team. it's a mess and it's a bunch of different genres because it's them fighting over the aux cord on a road trip. it's them trying to make each other laugh or annoy each other or play something catchy enough it will infect everyone in the vicinity with brain worms.

Hunk: i'm pretty happy with my Hunk playlist! chill vibes. he strikes me as the kind of guy who listens to calm music to try to find his own calm, and that's what i got here :)

Pidge: this is messier and less cohesive than my usual playlist because frankly i think pidge would have a shit taste in music. all over the board. this is a mix of meme songs and 8-bit covers and vocaloid and stuff that i think pidge would genuinely connect with, and i think pidge listens to all their music on shuffle without any regards for genre or mood because they're a gremlin. nobody gives pidge sole control of the aux.

Coran hears 80's music for the first time and loses his mind. He thinks ABBA is humanity's single greatest achievement.

Lance: i have ideas about where I'm going with this but haven't really settled yet. Lance seems like the kind of boy that loves to dance (is that canon? i forgot) so most of these are Bops That Make You Move in some way or another. he likes to present an upbeat face to the world, so there's no angsting in this playlist! we are clinging to the things that make us happy with both hands until our knuckles turn white!

Keith: i'm gonna be honest. i made him a playlist but i honestly don't think he cares about music very much. it's very important to some people! he's just not one of them! i haven't cracked this playlist open in a while but i'm pretty sure it's full of songs that i think he would conceivably train/work out to.

Shiro: this playlist involves the dumbest headcanon i have for shiro that has just not left me alone since i first thought of it. most of the playlist reflects the fact that he had an emo phase in middle school (that one isn't a headcanon, you just have to look at him to know) but BUT there are a few songs on here that are on here because. little known fact. he also went through a Twilight phase that he told nobody about. (keith knows. keith was there.) he has the entire twilight soundtrack memorized. he moved past the story but the music stays forever. he used to daydream about slow dancing to Flightless Bird, American Mouth. the first time Coran mentions that they have to avoid a place because there's a supermassive black hole there, he has to bite his tongue in order to keep a straight face. do NOT ask me why i believe this so wholeheartedly.

Allura's playlist sucks right now. I think it's because in my heart of hearts i know that, were she on earth today, she would go fucking nuts for taylor swift. i have ambivalent feelings for taylor swift. i cannot do allura justice like this. if you see my vision and have recs as to what might actually fit her, PLEASE.

Klance: i haven't done it yet but i'm gonna go through this and sort it to be a sort of progression of their relationship, starting with the more combative Rivalry songs, then slipping into "oh shit oh shit" songs, then maybe ending on the more lighthearted purely romantic songs <3

(i have two songs in a shallura playlist which does not at all encapsulate how much i'm obsessed with them. the tiny cop inside my head is just constantly screaming at me that i'm going to get yelled at for liking shallura. i am going to kill the cop inside my head.)

#mj talks #oooooh i don't know if i actually want to put this in the show tag. that's a lot of people. that's a lot of people that might see this. #fuck it we ball #voltron #anyway. as i said if you like music and you have songs that you think fit please send em over #also who wants to talk about shallura? i want to talk about shallura. #i rewatched the first ~3 seasons (the best part of the show and some of season 3) with my roommate a while back and. #ngl if we're strictly talking about the show itself and not fanworks. i care about shallura SO much more than i care about klance. #oh i should probably tag #klance #in case anyone has that blacklisted and just doesn't wanna see it #BACK TO MY POINT. #rewatch seasons 1 and 2 and you will see there was a REASON everyone included shallura in the background of their fics #and it wasn't just shoving 'space mom' and 'space dad' together #there is a very real and very compelling dynamic there. the mutual respect. the connection that comes with taking responsibility. #watch shiro's whole deal after allura gets herself captured so that he can go free and try telling me it's all in my head. just TRY. #anyway i have a lot of complicated thoughts about shiro's sexuality and most of them boil down to I Don't Think It Was Planned #i think they shoved it in last minute because somebody higher up #(not the writers i don't blame u writers i know that you have people breathing down your necks telling you what you can and can't do) #some higherup didn't like any queer storylines that might have been in the works and pulled them from the show #but then there was fan backlash because... gay people are loud now? people wanted A Queer In Space? wild thought #so they had to save their ass and actually deliver on what they had promised in interviews/on the internet/idk i didn't keep up too much #because it was so clumsily revealed! there was no buildup! #it felt very shoehorned to me unfortunately. when a) they had already built a solid and compelling potential relationship for shiro #(see above) #and b) klance was? right there? like. dude. you /had/ to have seen that. or at least some of it???? #backstory dead fiance was not the best move vis a vis queer representation and i reject him #if you want me to care about a relationship try going back to storytelling basics and Show Don't Tell :) #not giving you brownie points for that 'queer representation' :) #anyway. that's my shallura manifesto in the notes.

[thesamestarlight]

today was SUCH a good day even though i didn't do the thing i wanted to get done and i know it was because i CREATED!! i meant to just jot down an idea in a google doc but that accidentally turned into like four HOURS and almost 3000 words and i??? feel so good?? i've been lamenting a lot lately that i have all these fragments floating around in my head but i haven't been able to actually Make anything with them and then today i finally did in a way that i completely didn't anticipate and that came out of nowhere and it felt GREAT. and then i sang in the car and saw the sunlight in the trees and watching a funny show and lived laughed love the spirit of small joys saturday!! i love you guys!!!

#i know that sometimes i'm ready to write and sometimes i'm not. it's not something i try to force #but there have been so so so many Pieces in my head lately that i've been like. there must be a way to synthesize these into something that #means something. #i really thought that one of these days a poem would appear in my head #NOPE #but if anyone's um. into the idea of a percy jackson timeloop fic. feel free to encourage! i feel like this could be the one i really finis #for once i pretty much have a middle and an end. usually i write the beginning and peter out #this time i jotted down the beginning bullet style and then it turned into real writing against my will #so the beginning part definitely still needs more fleshing out but. maybe not so much? a few pages maybe? #it's all There it just needs to be Written #which is usually the easier part for me #also i have been clinging to 'write the part you want to write' #some of it does need to be fleshed out for Pacing I Want reasons but. #for the most part. i am letting myself paint the things i don't feel like writing in broad strokes #and it works! i think it works. especially with a time loop. that's just what happens as it goes on #anyway! cool feeling! i am capable of more than consumption and template replication after all!

[derekhalesbian]

some sterek girlies are privileged and by that i mean they don’t have any takes that would get them torn to absolute shreds by the rest of the fandom

#most of my opinions are common. most of my headcanons are common. #but some. some of them……. #ik it’s not that big a deal. but it also sometimes feels like if i ever said i think ******’s fics are overrated #i would be flayed and roasted over an open flame #(don’t read into the number of *s i just put a random amount not the amount of letters in the authors name) #like i would never say it publicly mostly bc i don’t want to be a bitch that hates on another fans work #but a part of that is that i don’t think many sterek fans wld agree with me LOL #to be 110% fair i’ve only read one of their fics but it was so ooc and off putting to me #i can’t bring myself to read more #which is also a reason i don’t voice this particular opinion i don’t actually know what im talking abt #anyways. having a private gc of trusted fandom friends where you can bitch about things like this #is so essential to a good fandom experience i’m being so serious #personal #kitty needs to chill

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

everyone applaud me i stress wrote a whole 3page essay (and read 20+ pages in my massive fucking textbook for context) in like 45 minutes. it is the most half-assed thing i've ever turned in but that's besides the point

#i should not have left that until like. an hour before the deadline #but it's in and that's better than nothing #i've reached new levels of half-assery though #quarter-assed that. a fifth of an ass went into that. only the most stressed part of my brain wrote that and it is not skilled #now i can chill tf out for 20min until i have to face class #i know attendance is important and all but also why. let me hang out somewhere on campus and do the lesson on my own #i did this most of my childhood let me please please please i'm too spoiled by homeschool and covid to be places in-person #i don't want to do the whole participation thing. esp for classes that make you pair up #i don't even dislike partner work. in fact i kinda like it. but when they make you speak in front of the whole class? #can't do that shit sorry man i can only speak to one or two people at a time more than that is excessive #ajdahjlghads methinks i'm just tired. and people keep disturbing my peace by sitting next to me when there are perfectly good seats farther #away. like i was seconds from biting this guy's head off i had the wildest wave of anger over this guy sitting too close i did not see that #coming but whatever. i read some fic instead of working and calmed tf down but like. there's no reason to sit right next to me #and be loud and talk to someone i am here bc it's quiet #anyways i'm rambling in the tags (as i always seem to do). comms might be open soon btw if ur interested

[lipglossboy]

honestly can we consider the circumstances surrounding Vickie returning fast times at ridgemond high with it paused on boobs?

So maybe she watched it and then went back to pause on that frame to stare at it. Questioning teen girl in the 80s it makes sense.

But then how did she not think to rewind before returning it that way? She has to know her peers work there and they'll be the ones to see it when they're doing rewinds?

Maybe it was like, she had it up and then oops her dad or boyfriend or someone shows up. Quickly! Take it out of the VHR before he sees! And then she forgot to rewind it before returning it. Or like, someone was doing her a favor and returned it for her before she could.

These passing details about Vicky make her low-key mysterious but I don't think it'll take us anywhere in canon (we don't have time for that anyway). She doesn't like, come across as mysterious but our collection of knowledge about her is interesting.

I kinda wanna characterize her as insecure and like, that's why she kind of tries to emulate molly ringwald lol. And that kind of gives some depth to the whole pausing on boobs thing. Just see her alone like struggling with these feelings (maybe for Robin!) and trying to test her own sexuality by staring at boobs lol. That makes the whole exchange in The War Zone more interesting too! Like she's struggling with her sexuality, specifically her feelings for Robin, and then suddenly Robin sees her being kissed by her boyfriend and she's like caught between these two worlds. The world with her boyfriend being kinda like, the familiar but increasingly unfitting, and the world of Robin being increasingly appealing yet scary and maybe even lonely (bc she only thinks her feelings are her own). But it doesn't feel lonely when she's actually With Robin! It feels all wrong, however, having those two worlds cross. They're not meant to. It's like even robin somehow knows since she runs away.

Also maybe Vickie's tendency to mimic out of an insecure sense of self is why in her nervous state she kind of emulates Robin.

Also don't get me started on her being casually in the War Zone? So much to unpack there. Is her boyfriend a big gun guy? She seemed pretty at home there lol enjoying herself. I forget if she was looking at something specific. Maybe someone in her family used to take her camping or taught her archery or something and she was Reminiscing while waiting for her bf to pick up whatever he needed. What did he need? Honestly who knows. I would say maybe he wanted to buy a gun bc recent events made him want to protect himself/Vickie, but she seemed so casual and chill it just wouldn't be fitting for that kind of shopping trip. I know the duffers like to play fast and loose with tone and the gravity of situations but I don't have to.

#I kinda feel like Vickie in fanfic is just there #Which is understandable #Even in rockie fics I don't feel like she always has much depth? #Which is interestingly how I feel about Chrissy in fics a lot too #Similarly just like #Boring #Not always #I think that's a big reason I tend to enjoy reading romance more than Robin x Chrissy #Bc Nancy is already a complex character #I do like some fics with Chrissy in them though #Kas!Chrissy by fastcardotmp3 is one of my fav fanfic series. Period. #Also I realize I've been using Vicky and Vickie interchangeably #I realized halfway through writing that I was writing Vicky with a y and didnt want to go back and change all the spellings #Also I do still feel like that scene with Robin watching wistfully at them kissing was off #Probably harsh but I think part of it was I wasn't convinced by Maya's acting in tht moment? #Can't necessarily blame her bc I wasnt convinced by the scenario itself #She sees a girl she likes who she knows has a boyfriend getting kissed by said boyfriend and is genuinely so heartbroken she has to run awa #I guess I don't buy it #Anyways. Maybe I'll write a little Vickie POV fic. Lil character study #All the fics I wanna write are like #Vickie character study #Eden character study #Argyle character study #Bunch of rarepairs #And then self insert fics djsjsbsn #Just fully me. I'd say you and yn but it's me. I'm picturing me specifically