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chr0n1c-ag0ny · 6 months

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Kunidazai reunion sparking them finally, actually, truly getting together (cause they're idiots who have essentially been and old married couple for years and were the last to notice)? I think yes.

kunikida offering his apartment to Dazai, as his partners was in no shape to be lived in, after all the time that had passed with no upkeep and the time it spent in police custody, being milled through for any potential evidence. there was no way he could let him go back to it, not now, not tonight. Kunikida needs him close tonight.

Dazai takes him up on his offer. he doesn't want to be alone. he won't admit it, but he can't be alone, he doesn't know what it would do to him, what he would do to himself if he was left unattended. so he gratefully, while making jabs and cracking jokes at his partner, follows him home.

their night proceeds as normal, as it had for years of Dazai crashing with him. Kunikida cooks while Dazai sits up on his counter, rambling on and on about anything he can think of. Kunikida never realized how much he missed Dazai's voice until the relief of not cooking in silence hit him.

when they eat Dazai drags his partner to sit on the couch, even though Kunikida hates eating on the couch, knowing he would make an exception for him, just for tonight. they sit too close to just be friends, coworkers, partners even. their arms touch, their knees lean into one another.

when Dazai's finished with his dinner he lays a head in Kunikida's lap, turning on the TV, flipping through all of his partners recorded media until he finds the show they had been watch together, every episode that aired since he was arrested is recorded and unwatched. with blurry eyes he hits play. Kunikida's hand is in his hair and it doesn't leave.

they don't talk, they don't have to, they've talked enough. for now they just want to sit and feel each other's touch and hear each other's breathing. it's all they need.

its nearly 3 in the morning when Dazai finally starts to doze, he'd curled up into a ball, halfway in Kunikida's lap at that point, holding onto one of his partner's hands. Kunikida knows he should get them both to bed, he should offer Dazai the room and take the couch, that he should have the man some space after all he'd been through. but he aches at the thought of leaving his side, at being separated again.

but he doesn't even have to say anything, should have known he never had to, Dazai's always been sharp as a tack, his intuition, almost terrifyingly, even sharper.

His partner turned lazily in his arms, looking up at him with tired but knowing eyes. let's go to bed, they say. you don't have to go, you can stay, they assure. please don't go, they beg.

Kunikida breathes a long, heavy, sigh of relief.

"ok," he answers, before finally getting up after hours laid up on the couch, watching as Dazai continues to doze.

his heart aches with feverish heat. he'd missed him so much he had begun to go mad, had gone mad really, and now his partner was back, he was back and alive and mostly well, and now he was so relieved it ached in its own right.

he went about making up his bed for two, for Dazai, knowing he needed enough pillows and blankets for half a dozen people, but kept stopping to look over the back of the couch to make sure he was still there, still with him, that he hadn't been taken away again. by the time he's done he's probably crossed his apartment two to three dozen times, from his room to the couch again and again, before he's finally decided the room was good enough, there were enough blankets for Dazai to cover himself with and pillows to hide in.

when he goes to Dazai this time around, he kneels in front of him, carding a hand through his hair, tracing a thumb over his brow, to his nose, and then his cheek. his partner's eyes flutter open, a smile graces his lips.

"come on," he whispers, worried too loud a voice would shatter the delicate air of safety and comfort around them, "time for bed."

Dazai hums, getting up with a stretch and a yawn, much like a cat, before gingerly hopping off the couch and into Kunikida's arms, a false smile and air of cheekiness to him, hiding the ache Kunikida knew all too well resided in his partner's heart as much as it did his own, if not more. he holds him for a moment, savoring the feeling of him in his arms, before taking his hand and leading him to their room.

Dazai knows the drill. he goes to the other man's dresser and picks out a pair of his own sweatpants, ones he kept here for nights like these, and as per usual, one of Kunikida's shirts, gliding across the room, out into the hall, and into the bathroom.

Kunikida crawls into bed, feeling like he's been hit by a bus by the days events, and ends up half asleep by the time he feels Dazai crawling into bed next to him.

he expects to see bandages peeking from the borrowed nightshirt, to watch Dazai shield himself from the world, from his partner's touch, with a swarm of blankets, for Dazai to lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for him to fall asleep first.

but tonight's different, so different.

Dazai's skin is bare where the shirt doesn't cover, his scars on display, each and every one of them, the burns, the cuts, the bullet wounds, the ones Kunikida has never one been able to decipher the story of. they're all bared to him, with no visible hesitation on Dazai's end.

when his partner climbs into bed he neglects the pile of blankets laid out for him, the pillows too. instead he lifts the comforter that's draped over the entirety of the bed, Kunikida included, sliding beneath it like it's natural to him, like he'd done it every night for months, years even.

he looks at Kunikida for a moment, silently asking for permission, which Kunikida cannot give fast enough, and then Dazai's in his arms, his own wrapped around his neck, nothing between them but the clothes on their backs.

Dazai pulls away, just a bit, Kunikida almost cries out, almost pulls him back in, but knows better. he lets dazai go, but he never leaves. he's moved just far back enough so they could both look each other in the face.

"I missed you," he spoke softly, his hands shifting to hold the blonde's face.

"I missed you too,"

there's a moment of silence.

"I love you." the words are hesitant, skittish even, like he's unsure of how Kunikida would take it.

"I love you too," he replies without a second thought. he loves his partner, he loves him, more than he knows what to do with, so much it drives him mad and makes him ache.

Dazai nods. he's thinking, Kunikida can see it on his face, his mind is going a million miles a second. worry flashes on Dazai's face, and Kunikida panics, goes to pull away, goes to give Dazai space, even if his own skin burns at the thought of parting with Dazai's.

but Dazai doesn't let him, he clings to him, "Don't go, please don't go, please," he begs.

his voice is desperate, so Kunikida doesn't. he watches his partners face twist and turn, watches as fear spreads across his brow and tears gather in his eyes, and he doesn't know what to do because this has never happened.

but than Dazai leans in, slowly, tugging Kunikida closer so they can meet in the middle. Kunikida feels his partners lips on his. he kisses him back. he can't decide if that was a foolish decision or not. It's soft, softer than either of them knew they were capable of, it's gentle and earnest and good.

Dazai stops after a moment, lingers in Kunikida's space before looking him in the eye once more, he doesn't speak, they don't need to. Dazai looks at him, tears running down his face, but he's smiling, he's ok. his thumbs wipe away tears Kunikida hadn't realized he'd shed. they're ok.

"I love you," Dazai mutter's again, speaking again before the other man can answer "Kunikida?"

"yes, Dazai?"

"don't go."

"I won't."

"promise?"

"I promise." its a foolish thing to say, but Dazai needs to hear it, hell, he needs to hear it, "I'm not going anywhere, so long as you promise me the same."

he hesitates, his eyes avoid Kunikida's for a moment, before returning from their shared gaze, "I'll try, I promise, I'll really try this time"

Kunikida nods, slowly moving to kiss Dazai's forehead, the brunette leans into it.

"I know you will," he whispers into Dazai's skin, "and I'll always be here when it's too hard to manage on your own."

there's silence again, but it doesn't feel wrong or heavy, its soft and warm and it feels right.

"I love you," Kunikida finally returns.

there's more silence, Dazai just looks at him, just watches, fingers playing with Kunikida's hair and drifting over his face until something clicks into place in the other man's mind, something nobody but Dazai could ever understand.

he leans in once more to kiss his cheek before he settles against Kunikida's chest, letting out a pleased huff as he curls himself into a ball, "goodnight," he muttered, almost instantly going still with sleep.

"goodnight," Kunikida replied, knowing Dazai wasn't going to hear him, pressing his own goodnight kiss to the top of Dazai's head before burying his face in the other man's hair (Dazai doesn't smell like his shampoo anymore. it makes something in him cringe. he tries and fails to ignore it).

it takes Kunikida a while to fall asleep, he's too busy running the night over and over and over again in his mind. he holds Dazai close and lets his fingers trace over scars, feeling over his too-thin frame, feeling each bone beneath his skin. there's so many thoughts rushing through his mind, to many fears, worries, anxieties, what ifs. what if I hurt him? what if I break him? what if I ruin this?

his thoughts are only stopped when Dazai gently nudges his head into his jaw, hands pulling Kunikida's off of him, holding them gently in his own (he should have known sleep wouldn't come that easy to Dazai).

he takes a deep breath, steadying himself and his mind, his partner's hands squeeze his gently, good, they seem to say, and sleep finally starts to pull at him once more.

he lets it happen, let's his eyes close and his mind go blank, knowing Dazai is safe, he's safe in his arms, he won't be taken away again. he sleeps knowing Dazai loves him, that he kissed him, that tomorrow they'll wake up like this, and maybe, just fucking maybe they can finally have this one happy ending.

#I love when two emotionally constipated men find ways to be indirectly vulnerable and soft with one another. it matters so much to me.#they don't know how to talk about it or what they mean to one another or what they need from the other but they make it work #but after so long of dancing around each other only to be ripped apart for so long something just gives way and for once its in their favor #I hc that Dazai can be quite graceful in a ghostly and/or feline sort of way when he wants to be. he hops to his toes instead of standing-#glides instead of walking. stares into your soul with these big old eyes instead of just look. so thats just sprinkled in here.#on another note. these men are idiots. I said getting together but for christ sake they've been together for years they just never noticed.#I cringed at their stupidity multiple times while writing this.#dazai is scared of loving kunikida. he's scared his love will damn the man he loves. he's scared he'll leave too #but he can only run from his feelings so long #kunikida is scared to love dazai. he's scared he will find a way to break him. that he won't be careful enough. that he'll screw it all up.#they're so fucking messy and I love them your honor #I have so much to say about them #kunikida bsd #kunikida doppo #bsd kunikida #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #dazai bsd #kunikidazai #kunidazai #if you see typo's no you don't

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eskawrites · 3 months

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Oh I love your work!

If you’re still up for prompts, what about 17 or 24?

i'm sorry this is like weeks late anon! i could not think of something for the longest time, and then i just kept forgetting it was in my inbox. january has been a weird one, that's for sure (so weird, in fact, that i started this post in january and didn't get around to finishing it until now)

anyway.

24. "Swear it to me."

Investigating the mall had been Robin's idea.

Nancy likes to think that, if anyone else had suggested it, she would have vetoed simply because of the harrowing, far-off look that filled her eyes anytime anyone mentioned Starcourt in any context. But in all honesty, it was a good idea. Their only idea, really. So she probably would have gone with it anyway.

What she wouldn't have done is agreed to let Robin come along. But then, they don't have much choice in that, either. There wasn't much documentation left, but what was there was, of course, in Russian. And with Murray peacing out before the government could catch up to him in Hawkins, Robin was the only one left who could translate. And it was her idea. When El and Will had both voiced concerns about another gate--when their endless sweeps of Hawkins revealed nothing new--Robin had been the one to suggest checking out the tear the Russians were trying to create.

So here she is, walking down a dark metal hallway deep underground, so frighteningly silent that Nancy keeps glancing at her, afraid that something might rise up from the shadows and snatch her away without so much as a whisper.

They'd split off into pairs to cover more ground. The bunker was huge, and they needed to know nothing was waiting in the darkness for them before they risked moving toward the gate. Hopper and Joyce were the closest group, though Nancy hadn't heard their voices in a while. Jonathan and Argyle were on the other end of the facility.

Steve had sat this one out, and he'd been livid that Robin wasn't.

"Someone needs to go look," Robin had said, her voice steady only because it was so hollow. "If I can help, I want to help."

So here she is, holding out her flashlight so Nancy can keep her gun out and ready. They haven't seen anything. Haven't heard anything but their own echoing footsteps.

And yet Robin grows tenser, coils tighter and tighter, with every step they take down the sterile halls.

"You don't have to keep an eye on me," she says, yanking Nancy out of her thoughts. "I'm fine."

Nancy frowns. "I'm not allowed to be worried about you?"

"Not when we're supposed to be focusing, no."

"I can multitask."

"You are the most hyper-focused person I know when you're on a mission.

"And you're deflecting."

It's easy, now, reading Robin. She had been startled when they first met, when Robin only had to glance at her to seemingly read her mind. She gets it now. She feels attuned to Robin's every breath, these days.

Robin glares ahead. She waves the beam of the flashlight around, making sure to highlight every dark corner as often as possible.

"I wouldn't have insisted on coming along if I thought I couldn't handle it."

"I know you can handle it. I'm just saying--"

"Let's just keep going." She picks up the pace, moving forward with quick, long strides that Nancy has to struggle a bit to keep up with. Nancy scowls at her, but she keeps walking. She wonders if this is karma. If the worry and frustration clutching her chest is payback for all the times she's tried to refuse Robin's comfort.

But Robin never gives up on her, and she's a fool if she thinks Nancy won't do the same.

Before she can try again, though, Robin comes to a stop. They've reached the end of the hall, and she sweeps her light across the large room that's opened up before them. Nancy sees her grip shifting around the light as she points it toward a set of stairs leading to a windowed room.

"That's the comm center. Past that is the gate."

Nancy watches her carefully. "I though you didn't remember your way around."

"I don't, really. But we came through this room before we..." She shakes her head. "It doesn't matter. We should go right here, down that hall. We can come back when we're ready to meet up with the others."

Nancy looks around the room. It's a complete mess, empty crates and toppled furniture and broken glass everywhere. But it does seem empty. Harmless. For now, at least. So she nods and follows Robin down yet another hallway.

They take their time. Nancy's attention is torn, struggling between trying to find the right thing to say to Robin and trying to be careful enough to make them both feel safer down here. She puts herself a step ahead, peeking around corners first, taking point whenever they push open the heavy metal doors of each room they pass.

Every room looks the same, though, all concrete and chrome and cleared out supplies. Empty weapon racks. Ransacked desks.

They come across a room that reminds Nancy oddly of her dentist's office. Robin's flashlight illuminates a pair of padded stools, an overturned cart, an overhead lamp that would have illuminated the middle of the room, like the one Nancy always has to blink up into whenever she and Mike go in for their regular cleanings.

She wrinkles her nose and decides she doesn't want to know what this room was for. She turns and leaves the room again, ready to keep moving on.

Robin doesn't move with her.

Nancy looks over her shoulder. "Robin?"

No response. No movement. She just stays in the doorway, her light shining into the room. Nancy walks back over to her. Robin isn't even blinking.

She swallows. Tentatively, she reaches out and places her hand on Robin's arm.

"Robin?" she asks again, softer this time.

Robin still doesn't respond, but Nancy hears her breath quicken. She glances around the room again, wondering what she's seen, what she--

It clicks. Nancy is an idiot. She turns back to Robin.

"Robin, look at me."

She steps closer, but Robin flinches away, hard. She jerks back into the doorframe, wincing as her back collides with the hard metal corner. Nancy stops, ducking her head and trying to catch Robin's gaze.

"Easy, hey, it's okay. It's just me."

She can hear Robin's panicked breaths now. She looks back at Nancy, but her eyes are distant, unfocused, not registering her presence at all. Nancy holsters her gun and tries taking a half-step closer. Robin's gaze darts between her and the room. Her face is frighteningly pale suddenly.

"Okay, let's just--just step out of the room, okay?"

She doesn't know what to do. She doesn't even know if Robin can hear her. Her breaths keep getting shallower. She has a white-knuckled grip on the door frame behind her. All Nancy knows is that she needs to get her out of here.

"Okay. Okay. Fuck. Just--here." She closes the space between them again and takes her arm as gently as she can. She expects it when Robin tenses.

What she doesn't expect is the yell--a choked, broken cry that spills out from Robin the second Nancy touches her. She flinches back again, but with nowhere to go she only succeeds in cracks her head against the door behind her. Nancy reaches up on instinct--wanting to look, wanting to cradle her a little closer and make sure she's alright--and something in Robin snaps. She flails in Nancy's arms, struggling so wildly she hits herself against the wall as often as she actually makes contact with Nancy.

Nancy tightens her grip on her. It's the only thing she can think of, the only way to just get her out of this room and away from whatever memories have such an ironclad grip on her.

"I'm sorry," she grits out as she starts dragging Robin back out into the hall. "I'm sorry. You're okay."

She gets them into the hall and half-drags, half-carries Robin down a ways until she can no longer see into the room. Robin starts shaking against her. Her knees buckle, and Nancy barely manages to support her weight long enough to ease them both gently back down to the floor. She still doesn't let go. She just holds Robin tighter even as she stops fighting her.

"You're okay," she says again. "I'm right here. They're gone. Everything's okay."

Robin makes another awful, choked sound, but it's more of a whimper than a shout this time. Nancy takes a deep breath, hoping Robin will feel it and do the same.

"It's okay." She doesn't really know what she's saying. She only knows that, if the situation was reversed--when it has been reversed--Robin has pulled her out of her own head with an endless stream of comforting words.

So she keeps talking, keeps murmuring whatever reassurances she can think of to Robin, knowing that she doesn't sound nearly as good as Robin always does, but hoping that Robin hears her anyway.

"You're safe. They can't hurt you. They're gone. Hopper and Joyce are close by, and Jonathan and Argyle. We know what we're doing. We're not going to let you get hurt."

After a while, she feels Robin shake her head against her. Then she hears a quiet, hoarse, "Bullshit."

"Robin," Nancy breathes her name, feeling relief wash over her. She rubs her hand up and down Robin's arm and says, steadier this time, "I promise, I'm right here. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

"You don't know--"

"We haven't found anything down here, not even any signs of the Upside Down. And the Russians abandoned this place almost a year ago. The men who hurt you aren't here."

Robin shakes her head again.

"They aren't," Nancy says firmly. "Look at me, Robin. I wouldn't say it if it wasn't true."

Robin does look at her. She lifts her head enough to meet her gaze, and her eyes are wet and scared, still, but they're more focused than they've been since they entered that room.

"Nance," she whispers.

"You're okay," Nancy says again. "We--"

"Swear it." Robin gulps. "Swear it to me."

Nancy reaches up carefully. When Robin doesn't flinch away, she cups her face, her thumb brushing through the tear tracks on her cheek.

"I swear, Robs. You're not back there. You're here with me, and I won't let them hurt you. Not now. Not ever again."

Robin sniffs, and the expression breaks in Nancy's hand. Nancy pulls her closer, letting her hide her face against her again.

"You're okay." She'll say it again and again, over and over, for as long as Robin needs her to. "We're okay. I promise."

#asks #anon #prompts #ronance #thank you anon! i got there eventually lol #one of these days i'll write out a proper robin trauma story #there's one drafted in the thriving in the apocalypse doc #but it so does not fit tonally anymore #rip thriving in the apocalypse russian storyline you were messy and unnecessary but i loved you anyway

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