#and i think it is a very toxic relationship

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 WE WERE BORN SICK

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: that sinking feeling that's been looming over you both has finally come to fruition. truths are revealed, questions are answered, but one big one remains: is love enough for you and dazai's relationship to survive this?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: happy fridayyyyy, i can't believe we only have one chapter left of civzai, it's actually makin me emotional </3 this chapter was quite a doozy to write, and i hope it's equally a doozy to read HAHAH no no jkjk , i hope you enjoy. also do u guys want to add an arcane au to the dazaiverse .. ive been thinking heavily about it. comments & reblogs appreciated

GENERAL WARNINGS: fem!reader, port mafia executive!reader, civilian!dazai, dazai's struggles w suicide & sh, reader partakes in mafia business, dazai isn't dazai without a bit of obsessiveness and possessiveness (the possessiveness doesn't come til later but the obsessiveness starts from day 0).

CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: hardly edited. angsty chapter. explicit depiction of suicide (past recollection of dazai), implications of past self-harm (dazai), very toxic thought processes at certain parts (dazai), past (and a bit of current) suicide ideation (dazai), manic behavior (reader).

SEE: WASTELAND, BABY! SERIES MASTERLIST

“I’ve been eager to meet you for quite a while. In all of the years I’ve known her, my little hime has never let something as trivial as a boy come between her and our work… I knew you must be special, but I never could’ve imagined just how special. I’m so pleasantly surprised.”

Dazai’s head throbs as he comes to his surroundings. He’s laying in an uncomfortable bed—a hospital bed, he thinks, he can smell the unfortunately familiar scent of antiseptic, but the walls aren’t the typical white he’s used to. He winces as he sits up, unable to recall where he is or what happened to him. Everything is too fuzzy, he remembers being with Fitzgerald, the car ride to the tea house, and-

And he remembers you. 

He remembers you.

He lets out a shaky breath as he recalls the way you’d pulled him into your arms, cradling him close as soon as you got him back from Fitzgerald. God, he only got to be with you for what felt like a second. It wasn’t enough time. It wasn’t nearly enough time. You sent him off, he remembers—you sent him with two of your subordinates, the weretiger and that freaky little girl, and then… 

“Shhh… Don’t speak. I want to get this done and over with.”

The gun to his back, Atsushi and Kyouka’s cries of shock, the baton to his head.

“No can do, weretiger. On orders from the boss.”

His mind tracks back to the words that had been spoken as he was teetering on the edge of consciousness, mouth going dry and eyes widening as he becomes acutely aware of the other person in the room with him. His gaze flicks up to where a vaguely familiar man sits at a desk watching him—straight chin-length black hair, inquisitive purple eyes, a long black coat, Dazai isn’t sure where he recalls this man from but he knows that they’ve met before. 

“Who…” Dazai asks, voice wavering as pain shoots through his head with every little movement. “Who are you? Have we… met before?”

His wrist hurts. His mother’s nails dig into his skin so deep that it draws blood, and he doesn’t know what’s going on. He’d just been sleeping—is he still sleeping? He isn’t sure. He’s stumbling over his own feet trying to keep up with her, he keeps asking her what’s going on but she doesn’t answer him. 

They turn a hall and his mother stops so suddenly that he slams right into her, nearly tripping over onto the ground. He doesn’t even regain his footing before his mother is pulling him back the way he came, he looks over his shoulder trying to figure out what caused his mother to panic so badly and he looks at—a man? 

Who is that? 

Why is he coming from grandfather’s room?

Is that-

Blood?

“Shuji! Shuji, don’t look back! Keep moving!”

Shuji? Who’s Shu-

“I think you know the answer to that already.” Dazai is startled out of the memory—was that a memory?—by the man’s voice. He sounds amused, and from the way that his eyes are glittering, Dazai can tell he’s finding great entertainment out of this situation. It pisses Dazai off. “Don’t you?”

“Tane-chan, you know you won’t be able to hide him forever. You’re just making this harder on yourself.”

Dazai’s breath catches. He shifts backward on the bed to press his back against the wall. Everything is wrong—the air is too cold, his bandages are itching, his head hurts, and he doesn’t know what’s going on. Who is Shuji? Why is he thinking of his mother after all of these years? And what… what was he remembering? 

Memories of his youth have always been sparse and fleeting—he can vaguely recall the faces of his siblings, the anxiety he felt around his grandfather, the loneliness—but something like this… The panic on his mothers face, the pain in his wrist, the way she was dragging him around, the fear in her voice when she screamed at Dazai—was he Shuji? But then why—to not look back, to keep moving. He would remember something like that. That would be… crazy to forget, right?

What is going on?

“You’re Mori,” Dazai breathes out, clearing his throat. He hopes he doesn’t look as disconcerted as he feels, but he thinks he must. “You’re…”

The leader of the Port Mafia. 

The closest thing you have to a father.

So, how does Dazai remember him from years ago? It doesn’t make sense. He couldn’t have been older than thirteen, maybe fourteen in that memory. What did he forget? When did he meet him? What’s going on? Dazai wants to scream, his mind is still slow from just waking up—he doesn’t even know how long he was unconscious, it couldn’t have been that long.

Mori’s smile widens as if Dazai just walked right into whatever trap that had been laid out for him, violet eyes flashing with a type of cruel amusement that makes Dazai sick to his stomach. Dazai has to circle back to remember what he just said, he needs to snap out of the daze he’s in. He needs to think. He made a mistake—Dazai made a mistake. He shouldn’t have admitted that he knew Mori. That was a mistake.

How does he fix it? 

Can he fix it?

“You do know,” Mori says, like he didn’t actually expect Dazai to admit that he knew him. Like he’s pleasantly surprised. Again. Like Dazai just made things much easier for him. Shit. “Interesting.”

He’s going to use it against Dazai. Dazai knows it. He’s going to use it against him to hurt you. He remembers everything he’s learned about your relationship with Mori—how he pit you against that other girl, Yosano, to get results from you. And he already said it. He already said that Dazai is getting between you and your work, he’ll do the same thing here. He’ll pit you against him.

He’s going to tell you that Dazai knew who Mori was, and that Dazai is someone that he’s not—who is Shuji? Why doesn’t he remember his own name? Is that really his name? How does Mori know all of this? Who is Dazai?—and Dazai needs to be able to say something. He needs to be able to explain. How does he explain this when he doesn’t even know what’s going on? Dazai needs to remember; he needs to remember now, he needed to remember yesterday, because if he’s not the one to tell you this… If he can’t explain this…

This cannot be happening—it can’t. Right when he thought everything would be okay, when he would be with you. His throat starts to clog as anxiety clouds his head and weighs on his chest, a panic attack that he can’t afford right now. He needs to think, he needs to figure out what’s going on—Mori knows something about Dazai that he doesn’t know himself, and he’s going to use it against him to drive a wedge between the two of you. He’s going to tell you, and-

Dazai’s world feels woozy. Why can’t he remember? How does he know Mori? What was happening that night with his mother? He needs to snap out of this, needs to think, but he can’t even breathe. Fear—the mind killer.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Dazai rasps, his voice is hoarse, and he feels sick, and he hates admitting that he doesn’t know what’s happening, but he needs Mori to believe it so that he doesn’t tell you something that’s not true. “I don’t know how I know you. I don’t-”

“You might believe that,” Mori says amused, “but will she?”

Dazai stares at Mori, his stomach churns violently and his vision swims as the answer becomes abundantly clear to him.

He doesn’t know. 

———

The gun in your hand weighs heavily.

You hid it in the inside of your blazer to get up to the conference room. No weapons are allowed up past the thirty-fifth floor unless you’re one of the Boss’s hand-picked personal guards—even executives are forced to disarm themselves before going up, but security is much more lax for the upper echelon. Because you’re you—the hime, second-in-command, the Boss’s daughter—the guards outside of the elevator that goes directly to the top floor wave you past the metal detectors to go on up.

A mistake.

(Who is Tsushima Shuji? It can’t be Dazai. You know Dazai. Mori must be wrong.)

The smile on your face is bland and doesn’t meet your eyes as you walk down the hall to the conference room attached to Mori’s office. You greet the guards, and they don’t notice how off your demeanor is, too starstruck over the fact that they’re being acknowledged for once. They also don’t notice the way your hand is curled around the grip of your gun in your blazer.

A mistake. 

(Mori is never wrong. Do you really know Dazai?)

When you reach the end of the hallway, you toss them one last brilliant smile. This one is a bit more genuine because you’ve realized that you’ve gotten through the top notch security of the upper levels of the Port Mafia headquarters without a hitch. That you’re one step closer to finishing this. They’re so blinded by the beauty of your smile that they don’t realize your teeth have sharpened into knives and the floral perfume you wear masks a putrid bloodlust. 

A mistake. 

(It’s always been odd, hasn’t it? The way he approached you. The way he was so insistent on pushing himself into your life. You always questioned it. There was a sinking feeling that something wasn’t as it seemed. Why didn’t you question it more?)

You keep your back turned as you slip into the room. You can feel four presences behind you—Kouyou, Piano Man, Chuuya, Ace. No Mori. No Dazai. That’s fine—you have something to take care of before they show up anyway. The conference room is soundproof; Mori designed it that way because he didn’t want the guards outside to overhear any discussion of sensitive topics. Even if he handpicked them for their loyalty, he understands that money can make the most devout man’s faith waver. Still, it’s not them rushing in that you’re worried about—it’s the people in the room with you rushing out, so you very carefully twist the nub of the lock and then reach up to fix the deadbolt. It won’t stop them, but it will slow them. You can feel their eyes on you as you make sure the door is locked, but none of them call you out for it or try to stop you.

A mistake. 

(Mori always told you that the Tsushimas were like cockroaches. If they all weren’t killed, one would eventually return to reclaim their grandfather’s empire. There’d be a power struggle between the factions loyal to the new regime and the ones that still hid in the shadows believing that the Tsushima blood belonged at the head of the organization. Everything the two of you had built would crumble to ashes.)

You turn to make your way over to the conference table where the four of them are sitting. You haven’t decided how you want to go about this yet. You don’t know who all was aware of what Mori did, and because of that, you don’t know who needs to die. Treachery has always faced a death penalty—you don’t care if Mori ordered it, you don’t care that the Boss’s word is absolute, you have bled and breathed for the Port Mafia. You’ve sacrificed everything you’ve ever owned and wanted for the Port Mafia. You have made the Port Mafia into what it is today with your efforts abroad and at home—foreign governments, foreign criminal organizations, the Japanese government and other domestic mafias, all of them are just puppets that you pull the strings of to ensure the Port Mafia stays on top. Treachery against you will face the same penalty one would receive if they betrayed the Port Mafia, because you are the Port Mafia—Mori has made sure of that. 

Chuuya and Piano Man share a look with one another as you approach the table. Neither of them say anything—is it confusion? Is it guilt? Did they know? Were you the only one unaware of the schemes going on around you? Were you the only one loyal? The only one you could trust?

Did they know?

Did they know?

(No one could ever love you without your ability at work influencing them. You’ve known that since the very beginning, but you were so quick to forget that when you discovered Dazai’s ability. You should have had more questions, you should have been more suspicious. Mori had been right from the very beginning. You were emotionally compromised. You were weak.)

Ace opens his mouth to speak.

A mistake. 

“It was nice meeting your-”

Ace’s head hits the conference table with a hard thunk, his eyes wide and glassy, his mouth open around the words you didn’t let him finish speaking. Blood seeps from the bullet hole in his temple and pools around his head and the ground beneath his chair, staining the glass table and the white floors. 

Instead of lowering your arm, you shift it so that the gun is pressed against Piano Man’s temple next. Chuuya says your name—it’s awful, something caught between a gasp of shock and confusion, he’s never said your name like that before. Like he doesn’t know what you’re doing. Like he doesn’t understand you. Like you’re something unfamiliar. Unrecognizable. You ignore him anyway, and the pangs that come along with it, and instead, you keep your gaze trained on Piano Man’s face.

He’s not as panicked as Chuuya, but you can tell that he’s just as caught off guard from the way his lips are twisted. He watches you carefully, waiting for you to say whatever you’re going to say—if you were going to pull the trigger, you would’ve done so immediately, he knows that. He’s always been good at reading you, better than even Chuuya sometimes.

“Did you know?”

Your voice is steadier than you expect it to be. Cold almost. Distant. You don’t recognize it yourself, you suppose it’s no wonder that Chuuya’s staring at you with such a foreign expression. You watch him just as carefully as he does you. He has a tell when he lies: he squints. Not an obvious squint, just the barest hint of his eyes squeezing shut like he’s calculating exactly what he wants to say, in what tone and with what fluctuation he wants to say it.

A subtle tell, but a tell nonetheless. 

“No.”

He stares at you steadily as he says it. There’s no squint—he’s telling the truth. You don’t let out a breath of relief, but you certainly feel the weight off of your shoulders. You lower the gun, satisfied with his response, and then you walk over to where Chuuya is sitting.

You don’t raise the gun to his temple immediately. He looks up at you, you look down at him, a whole conversation is had in the silence between you, and eventually he lowers his lashes in resignation, telling you to do what needs to be done for you to feel more at ease.

He’s always put others before himself. 

You lift the gun at the same time he lifts his gaze to meet yours. He could activate the Tainted Sorrow and end this before it starts, but he doesn’t—you know in your gut that if you pulled the trigger right now, he would accept the fate you delivered. Probably would take it as a better one than he deserved—it being at your hands rather than Arahabaki. 

“Did you know?” you ask. The words taste bitter, rancid—they don’t belong there, Chuuya would never betray you, but you had to hear it from him. 

Chuuya doesn’t have many tells when he lies—he’s a good actor, much better than people give him credit for. If he wanted to lie to you, he might be able to get away with it. But he won’t lie to you, not when he’s looking you in the eye. 

“No,” he says, voice soft and raspy like he can’t believe he has to say it.

You let the gun drop to your side. It weighs heavier now—heavier than it did in the elevator, heavier than it did in the hallway leading to the room, heavier than it did when it was pressed against Piano Man’s head. You can hardly bear to keep holding it, but you’re not done yet.

Slowly, your gaze turns to Kouyou. Her expression is cold and unreadable, gaze pinned on you in the same way a lion stalks its prey through the tall grass… No, that’s not right. She stares at you with the same look in her eyes that a snake does when it’s curled in a corner, rattle shaking and hissing to try to scare off the predator that has it trapped.

“You knew,” you breathe out softly in disbelief. Your voice hardens and tightens as you repeat, “You knew!”

Before you can raise your gun—before you can pull the trigger four, five, six times, before you can riddle her body with holes because how dare she know, how dare she know and not tell you after what the previous boss did to her—the door that separates the conference room from Mori’s office opens, and your attention is drawn to the one person who caused all of this.

“Oh my,” Mori says airly, looking between you, Ace’s body, and Kouyou with an expression that is frustratingly amused. “I see you’ve been busy.”

You don’t even know what to say to that. You almost want to laugh. You think you do laugh, actually—someone does, and you think it’s you, because you feel yourself walking away, you lift your hands to your head to tug at your ears in frustration. Your vision is blurry—are you crying?

“You betrayed me,” you finally say, voice quieter than you intend, so you raise it as you repeat yourself. “You betrayed me. You. Of all people I never thought you would be the one to-”

You can’t even finish the sentence, your voice cracks over the words. It makes you feel sick, it makes you angry, it makes you want to crawl out of your skin, because how could he? To you? You don’t know why you’re so angry, why you’re so betrayed. Mori has always made it clear that his priority is the Port Mafia, but still, to do this to you. To do this to his-

To his what?

You’re not his daughter. You hate when people imply that you are, you hate being called hime, you hate being called ‘Miss Mori’, you hate when people give you respect because of your perceived relationship to him. 

He’s the only father you’ve ever known. Almost every decision you’ve made has been with the motive of making him proud of you. When he seeks out your opinion specifically during meetings, your chest becomes warm with pride.

You don’t love him. How could you? Look at what you’ve become because of him. 

Then why do you feel so betrayed? Why did you think he would be the last person to do something like this to you when you know the type of person he is? Why does your chest feel like it’s caving in? Like your heart’s been ripped right out of it? Why does this hurt as much—why does this hurt more than Dazai’s potential betrayal?

And he certainly doesn’t love you. He never would have done this if he did. 

He’s killed people for disrespecting you—he hardly ever gets his own hands dirty, but he does when it’s you and your dignity on the line. He spends hours meticulously picking out birthday presents that he knows you’ll like. He gets sad when he invites you for lunch and you don’t join him, reminiscing about the days where you clung to the back of his coat.

He touches your shoulder, and your finger twitches on the trigger of the gun. You want to lift it, press it to his temple and pull the trigger just like you did to Ace, but you can’t. Your arm feels like lead, and when his hand slides down to your bicep to force you to turn around and face him so that your back is to the rest of the executives, you dutifully follow along.

His expression is unreadable as he looks down at you, violet eyes swimming with an emotion you’ve never seen in them before. He lifts his hand to wipe away one of the tears that had spilled over your cheeks with his knuckle, and then taps your cheek twice, chiding you silently. 

Do not cry here, little hime. Not here.

“You have always been so dramatic,” Mori hums just loud enough for you to hear, but the words are fond, and the corners of his lip curl up as he looks down at you. “I would not betray you. Not ever, dear.” 

You look at Ace pointedly in response and then back to Mori, the man sighs dramatically and gives you a disappointed look. The nerve, you think bitterly, narrowing your eyes on him as you wait for his explanation.

“I told you,” Mori says. “I did this to protect you. I wanted to get ahold of the boy-”

“Because you have some mistaken belief that he’s a Tsushima,” you interrupt coolly. “How did you even manage to come up with that ridiculous theory?”

Mori’s eyes flicker with something akin to interest, but shifts quickly into pity—you can’t tell if it’s genuine or mocking, and you don’t know which would be worse. He must be mistaken, he has to be. You don’t think you can handle the implications of if he isn’t, of what it might mean for you. For Dazai. Your whole relationship with him. How much was manufactured for him to get information about the Port Mafia? So he could get a foothold in the organization? Get in contact with the remaining loyalists to his family?

“Sit,” he tells you, guiding you over to the seat at the right of the head of the table. “I’ll explain everything, but first… Shuji-kun, why don’t you come out and join us?” 

Your breath catches at Mori’s words, gaze twisting to the side over to the door that he’d come out of. You watch as the door creaks open, and the achingly familiar sight of his face finally comes into view. You’ve missed him—you’ve missed him, and you hate this. You should be back at your apartment with him, you should have him curled up in your arms, you should be listening to him complain about how long he was stuck with the Guild. 

This shouldn’t be happening. You shouldn’t be sitting at the executive roundtable with Ace’s dead body a few feet away, and Dazai entering the room, questions of his identity, of whether or not he’s been using you for information and opportunity to take back his grandfather’s legacy. 

You hoped that Dazai would enter the room angry, irritated by the kidnapping and the accusations, but you don’t think you’ve ever seen Dazai look like this before. He looks a mess, fidgeting, brown hair matted to his forehead, dark eyes wide and swirling with emotion. When he seeks you out, they’re pleading, imploring, like he already knows that whatever is about to be said is going to be bad for him. 

He looks… frazzled. Nervous. Confused. 

He looks guilty, and you know that Mori is telling the truth. 

How much of this was a lie? All of it?

Your throat feels uncomfortably tight, gaze sliding from Dazai back to Mori.

“Tell me.”

Who are you, Dazai Osamu?

———

Despite his body being wracked with a strange sense of guilt, Dazai pushes open the door to enter the room where he assumes you’ll be waiting. You’re not the only one there sitting at the table—there’s five… no, four others—but Dazai can’t help the way he immediately seeks you out. He recognizes his mistake instantly. That highly unwelcome, and highly misplaced, guilt amplifies the moment his gaze meets yours and he sees how crushed you are by all of this. His face twists into something that he knows condemns himself more. and from the way you instantly look away from him, directing your full attention to Mori, he knows he has. 

Now, you won’t meet his eyes at all.

Dazai sits stiffly across from you to the left of Mori. Nakahara Chuuya is on his opposite side, glaring holes into the side of Dazai’s head, but he can’t drag his gaze from you. He’s never seen you like this before—even back at the beach house when you’d been so close to breaking down under the weight of everything on your shoulders, you’d held yourself together as best you could. 

You’re unraveling now; he can tell you’re still trying to hold yourself together, but it’s as good as trying to pick up water with your fists, your emotions spill out through the cracks carved into the walls you used to hide yourself behind. Mori hasn’t even begun talking, yet your breath is unsteady and your eyes are swimming with emotion; your fingers are still wrapped tight around the grip of your gun, and Dazai is very acutely aware of Ace’s dead body slouched over the table not even a few feet away. 

And you won’t even meet his eyes.

Maybe it’s a good thing, he realizes, because Dazai isn’t sure what you might see if you do. You clearly didn’t like what you saw the first time. He just feels so guilty, and he doesn’t even know why he feels guilty because he’s not-he didn’t do any of what Mori implied. He didn’t use you, he didn’t know who you were before meeting you, it wasn’t all some scheme to try to take over the mafia. That’s ludicrous—he’s a literature student at YNU, not some gang lord. He just-

He loved you. Loves you. No ulterior motives. No strings attached. 

“I said tell me,” you snap when Mori doesn’t immediately begin talking. “You love talking, so why are you holding back now? Tell me, or I’m leaving.”

Dazai feels a bit sick to his stomach when you say ‘I’ with no implication of taking him with you. He tries to get you to look at him again, silently pleading with you to just spare one glance in his direction, but you’re irritated now. He can see it in the way your fingers flex around the gun, knuckles whitening and finger twitching on the trigger—it’s pointed at the woman sitting next to you, who is very acutely aware of the fact from how stiff she is. 

“Do you remember the night we took over the Port Mafia, dear?” Mori asks her, voice a low hum. 

“What kind of question is that?” you answer tightly. Your lip curls up in irritation, Dazai can see you become more and more antsy and angry—he’s never seen you so out of control before. “Of course, I do.” 

“And you, Shuji-kun?” Mori turns his attention to Dazai and he wants to spit in his face—his name is Dazai—but his voice fails him when he sees the way your face twists at the sound of the unfamiliar name. He stares at Mori instead, hating how amused the man becomes at his silence. “I’ll take that as a no, allow me to refresh you.”

“Eight years ago, a coup was staged against your grandfather’s regime,” Mori says, and Dazai feels like he’s being studied under a microscope. All eyes are on him now—even yours, but now, he can’t bring himself to look at you. He doesn’t know what he’ll find, and he’s scared it’s going to be something he doesn’t like. “Your grandfather was mad, killing civilians and mafiosos indiscriminately, something had to be done, and nobody was willing to do it, so we did.”

“We had to wipe out the whole family, and any loyalists. I was fourteen when I killed someone for the first time. She was a girl my age—the previous boss’s grandaughter…”

Dazai’s gaze drags over to you. You’re staring ahead now, gaze listless and expression eerily blank like you’re slowly starting to realize what this means. Dazai hasn’t come to terms with it yet, because if even a little of what Mori is saying is true then…

“We wiped out the whole bloodline and as many loyalists as we could,” Mori continues, “or we thought we did, at least. My dear hime was who I sent to kill the heirs, I trusted in her to make it quick and painless. We didn’t realize one of the grandchildren were missing until it was too late—he wasn’t in his bedroom, apparently liked to wander around at night because he couldn’t sleep. His mother was able to swoop in and get him out of the estate before our men took over the building… Tsushima Shuji, the youngest of the previous boss’s grandsons. Does this sound familiar yet, Shuji-kun?”

He has the best view of the night sky from an alcove on the fourth floor of the estate—his grandfather’s floor. It’s where he likes to go when he can’t sleep at night, and ever since his cousins and siblings started fighting over their grandfather’s legacy, that’s been just about every night: half because of fear now that things have started escalating to violence, half because he’s not even sure why he’s still here.

His knees are tucked tight to his chest, arms wrapped around them and head resting against the cool glass as he looks up at the stars. He hears a commotion happening somewhere downstairs, but there’s always a commotion happening at the estate, so he thinks nothing of it. He submerges himself in the darkness instead, letting his mind float away as he stares up at the sky—it’s the only time he’s able to relax, escape from the shadows of his own mind.

He’s not sure how long he sits there admiring the night, time passes immeasurably when he’s lost in the stars—he’s only snapped out of it when he hears feet slamming against the ground in his direction. He stiffens, eyes wide, wondering if another one of his cousins has finally turned to bloodshed as the way to inherit their grandfather’s legacy, but instead his mother turns the corner, her smooth face contorted in a type of panic he’s never seen on her before.

“Mothe…” he starts to say, confused, but he doesn’t even get a chance to finish the word, gasping as his mother grabs his wrist and yanks him off the cushioned seat in the alcove.

“Shuji, we have to go,” she gasps, “we need to get out of here. It’s not safe.”

He stumbles after his mother, struggling to keep up with her quick pace and longer legs. Her grip was painful, nails digging into the bandages around his wrists, right into the fresh wounds they covered. He grimaces in pain, breathing heavy as he follows his mother down the hall, assumingly toward the steps near his grandfather’s room. 

“What’s going on?” he asks. “What about Bunji? Akane? T-”

His mother chokes over what sounds like a sob and his eyes widen—he’s never heard his mother cry before. 

“There’s no time,” she chokes out, “we have to leave without them. We-”

They turn a hall, she skids to a stop and-

“It seems that it does… Allow me to continue then,” Mori hums, drawing Dazai out of the memory. He sounds unbearably amused, and Dazai would be angry if he wasn’t so shaken. He pulls his hands off of the table to rest them in his lap to hide the way his fingers are trembling. “Your mother was able to hide you from us for half a year, I warned her that she wouldn’t be able to for long and since she didn’t share your grandfather’s blood, promised to spare her life if she gave you up to us, but she refused. She tried to take you out of the Kanagawa Prefecture, but our men were catching up to her, and she took… drastic measures to ensure we couldn’t track you down. That I’m sure you remember.”

“Mother,” he whispered, staring up at the rope, her limp body, gaze trailing down to the kicked over chair. “Mother, I don’t… why did you…”

He takes a step closer. A step back. Another step closer. He reaches out, fingers brushing the white nightgown she’d worn the night before while getting him settled in bed, but he snatches them back instantly like he’d been burned, clutching his hand to his chest.

He’s not breathing, he realizes when his lungs start to burn. His eyes sting painfully, unable to draw his eyes away—unable to even blink—is it a nightmare? Is he hallucinating? She sways—sways like when she used to distract him when he was settling into a depressive episode by putting on music and forcing him to spin with her in the kitchen, sways like the wind chimes she keeps outside because the house doesn’t feel homely enough without him, sways-

“Shuji! Shuji, get away from there!” The voice that calls to him is familiar��Aunt Kiye? Why is she here? “God, I tried to get here earlier. Nee-san, forgive me.”

Aunt Kiye grabs his wrist, yanking him away from his mother, dragging him out of her bedroom and down the hall. His voice is hoarse as he screams, he doesn’t know what he’s screaming, if he’s even screaming anything intelligible. He doesn’t stop until he’s out of the house and she’s kneeling in front of him, shaking him out of his panic.

“Enough, Shuji! We have to go, we can’t stay here, they’ll be here soon,” Aunt Kiye shouts at him, expression twisted and eyes pooling with tears that she doesn’t let spill over. “We need to go, and we-we need to change your name, change everything. I promised I would hide you, I-”

“We can’t leave her there,” he argues, voice shrill. “I don’t understand, why did she do that? What did I do? It was my fault, It was my fault, wasn’t it? It-”

Aunt Kiye doesn’t answer his question. She looks bitter, angry, hateful. “We have no time. We have to leave,” she whispers, dragging him to the car despite his protests. She continues talking, more to herself than to him, but the words make his chest cave in. “I told her not to get involved with that family. Their blood is black, cursed. Everyone knows nothing good comes from associating with those people.”

His fault, he realizes, breath becoming thin and shallow. It’s his fault, his blood, his fault that his mother-

“Yes, quite the unfortunate scene we walked into,” Mori says dismissively. “She was smart for it though, she never would’ve survived a night with our sweet hime interrogating her. You should see what she did to that despicable journalist. Of course, she wasn’t as fine-tuned with her ability back then, but that would’ve been at your mother’s expense—her first few attempts at conditioning were quite… unfortunate for her test sub-”

“Enough,” you spit out, interrupting him. Dazai wants to believe that it’s because you can see how uncomfortable he’s getting, but he’s not even sure that you care. He’s not even sure you remember he’s in the room. “Get to the point. You think he’s the Tsushima kid we missed—that doesn’t prove shit. It doesn’t mean-”

You don’t finish what you’re going to say, but you do look at him, and Dazai’s breath catches when his gaze finally meets yours again. He can’t tell what you’re thinking—the expression on your face is entirely indecipherable, something caught between being accusatory and guilty. Dazai doesn’t know if he’s going to make it out of this room alive. Even if by some miracle, you decide to believe him, there’s a good chance that Mori will order his death anyway, and he’s not sure if you’ll pick him over the Port Mafia. 

That being said, Dazai doesn’t even know if he wants to make it out of here alive. His brain is fogged with memories that he locked so deep within him that they never should’ve resurfaced—every time Mori speaks, Dazai’s recalling something new, something awful, something that proves that he’s every bit the freak people have always claimed him to be. Every bit as bad. Every bit as wrong. Not like other people. A monster whose mother killed herself because of him, a monster who's been cursed since the day he was born. 

“... blood is black, cursed… nothing good comes from associating with those people.”

More than that, he doesn’t see how the two of you are going to be able to come back from this, and that scares him more than anything. You’re the only good thing left in his life, and he doesn’t think he’ll make it without you, but he doesn’t think that after all of this things are just going to work out. You killed his siblings. His cousins. And yeah, Dazai was never close to them—they thought he was too quiet, too strange, all of the things that the other students at school whispered, his family was the first to—but… they were still his family, and if Dazai had been in his room that night, he would’ve been just as dead at your hands as the rest of them.

You killed his family. You would have killed him. The Port Mafia is the reason his mother killed herself, the reason why he walked into her bedroom and saw her hanging from a fan. The Port Mafia is the reason his aunt hated him so much that she couldn’t even bear looking at him, the reason why he was left to die in Suribachi City. 

Would you ever be able to get over the guilt of that? Would Dazai be able to accept it? You had a heavy hand in ruining his life, is it enough that you saved him years later? He doesn’t know, he’s hardly even processed it, he just knows that he has to cling to what little he has left, dig his nails in and not let go even if it makes you choke on guilt, even if it makes him sick with shame. He won’t let go. 

“So impatient,” Mori sighs. “Your aunt hid you for almost another half a year, but she wasn’t able to move out of the Yokohama area. She did well though, I’ll give her that. We had our best trying to find you, but she was very careful. It was partially our own fault that we didn’t get our hands on you back then—some loyalists to your grandfather snuck under our radar, told her when we were closing in on the two of you. She got rid of you before we got to her… but we did get to her. Kouyou-kun was the one who handled her, if I recall it got quite… messy. I can’t imagine how it must feel knowing that your mother and aunt sacrificed themselves to protect you only for you to throw it all away in an arrogant attempt to reclaim your grandfather’s legacy.”

Dazai doesn’t even zero in on the last bit of what Mori says because he’s too busy trying to wrap his head around the rest of it. Aunt Kiye didn’t… die for him. Aunt Kiye hated him. He remembers that clear enough—he remembers how she could hardly stand to look at him, he remembers the way she was always so cold and rough with him, he remembers-

“You have to go, Osamu.” Aunt Kiye is shouting at him, and he’s sitting in the passenger seat of her car. He doesn’t move, he thinks maybe if he sits still enough, she won’t see him there and won’t make him leave. “Osamu, get out of the car and go, we don’t have time! They’ve found us.”

The name is still unfamiliar—he’s not used to it, and he doesn’t know if he likes it, but Aunt Kiye insists that Tsushima Shuji is dead and that name can never be uttered again. She gets mad when he doesn’t immediately answer to it, tells him not to let his mother’s death be in vain, and that’s usually enough to get him to stop being stubborn over it.

“Osamu, go!” She grabs his bicep hard to try to get his attention, but he flinches and squirms out of her grip, still not responding to her. He can’t remember the last time he’s spoken—he thinks maybe since they left the cabin that morning. “You-”

Aunt Kiye sounds angry now, but he can’t bring himself to look at her. It’s only when he hears her unbuckle and feels her start reaching over him that he starts to panic. He reaches up to grab her bicep, trying to stop her from grabbing the handle of the door to open it, but she’s stronger than him. He’s hardly been eating lately, and he’s never been particularly strong—he was always the smallest among his siblings. 

It takes no effort for her to bat his hands away, pushing open the door and unbuckling his seatbelt. He struggles against her as she tries to push him out of the car, and she’s still speaking—shouting at him, begging him, he thinks she might be crying too, but he can’t even tell. His mind is fogged with panic and fear—he doesn’t want to be alone in Suribachi City, he doesn’t want to be alone at all. He wants to stay with Aunt Kiye even if she hates him because he doesn’t want to be alone. 

Eventually, Aunt Kiye wins the fight—even with him fighting tooth and nail, she manages to push him out of the car. He hits the ground hard, gasping when he lands poorly on his elbow. He’s stunned for a moment by the shock and pain, and Aunt Kiye takes the chance to toss out a backpack from the back seat and close the door behind him, locking it quickly. 

“No!” His voice is raspy from lack of use over the past few months. He scrambles to his feet and tries to pry the door open but can’t. Aunt Kiye won’t even look at him, she stares ahead as she switches the car into gear and he slams his hands against the window. “Aunt Kiye! Aunt Kiye, don’t leave me here! Don’t leave me here, please, I’ll be better, I’ll do better, just don’t-”

He stumbles back as she pulls the car away, falling when he trips over the backpack onto the asphalt, scraping up his hands and forearms. He’s not sure how long he sits there staring after where the car disappeared waiting for her to come back for him.

She doesn’t.

She didn’t die for him, Dazai thinks again, nails digging crescents into his palm. She didn’t die for him, she couldn’t have. Dazai won’t believe it. Aunt Kiye hated him, she abandoned him in Suribachi—none of this can be true. It can’t. His mother killed herself to be free of him, not to protect him; and Aunt Kiye abandoned him because she hated him, not to save him.

That’s the truth. It has to be. They couldn’t have died for him—for him. It doesn’t make any sense. He doesn’t want to remember all of this—he was better off thinking that they hated him, that they wanted to be free of him.

He can feel you looking at him now, but Dazai is back to being unable to look at you. He’s staring down at the glass table looking at his reflection, his eyes are wide and dark and far too black—he looks warped, inhuman almost. His expression is blank, none of the turmoil within him is reflected on it, and he doesn’t even understand why. He thinks it’s probably just making him seem more guilty.

“We figured she left you somewhere in Suribachi City, but we weren’t able to track you down,” Mori says flippantly. Dazai wants him to stop talking, but he has a sick feeling things are only going to get worse from here. “Not until you ended up with Oda Sakunosuke, at least, we…”

Dazai’s ears ring at his old friend’s name. Mori is still talking, but his words become a distant buzz. Everything starts coming back to him at once—his time alone in Suribachi City, the weeks he spent rationing the little food he had, getting the shit kicked out of him by some low rung gang who stole his mother’s ring from him. He remembers giving up, questioning the point of his own existence with a detached logic that left him with only one answer—there was no point to his existence, so he was as good dead as he was alive. 

He remembers seeing on a sign that it was the eve of his fifteenth birthday, and he remembers dropping himself in the bay during a storm, hoping that the tide dragged him so far beneath the surface that he’d never see the light of day again.

He remembers waking up the next morning to an unfamiliar face at his bedside, brows knit in disapproval and lips turned down, and he distinctly remembers feeling put out by a stranger looking at him that way.

“What’s your name, kid?”

Dazai couldn’t remember anything but the name Aunt Kiye had drilled into him over and over again the past few months.

“Dazai Osamu.”

“Hm. Oda Sakunosuke. You got a family, Dazai?

Odasaku brought him in. 

Odasaku saved him. 

The doctors said he’d been dead for almost three minutes when Odasaku found him washed up on the beach—said his memory might return over time, but it might not—but Dazai didn’t even care, because Odasaku brought him in. He gave him a roof over his head, food to eat, and a reason to live. He sent him to school so he could feel like a normal kid his age. He played board games with him and didn’t even care when Dazai was a sore loser and quit mid-game when he realized he wouldn’t win. He humored Dazai when he faked being sick because he didn’t want to go to school. When Dazai was going through bad depressive episodes, Odasaku would sit with him silently and write his book so Dazai never felt alone. Odasaku introduced him to Ango and they were-

They were his friends.

Family, maybe.

They were all he had, and they were all he needed. 

And then-

“We were the ones who killed him.”

Dazai’s gaze drags up from the table to focus on Mori. The man’s lips are curved into a cruel smile, his eyes are sharp, and Dazai is moving before he can stop himself. He lunges across the table, but Mori doesn’t even flinch because Nakahara Chuuya grabs the back of his shirt and yanks him back down into his seat. 

“You-” Dazai spits, voice raspy and angry.

“Don’t look at me like that, we were trying to get to you,” Mori says casually as if the words don’t shatter Dazai’s entire world. “We would’ve loved to have Oda Sakunosuke amongst our ranks. His death was unfortunate. Collateral damage. He was an assassin for a long time—one of the best in the world. He was pretty much unkillable, his ability allowed him to see six seconds into the future. I never understood how our sniper managed to get him that day, but now I do. He saw you getting shot with his foresight and tried to pull you out of the way, but your ability is nullification, so when he touched you to save you, he damned himself. In those split seconds when he was pulling you to safety, he couldn’t see the future, and couldn’t see the bullets aimed for you that lodged into his chest instead.”

Dazai can’t do this anymore. He tries to push himself up to his feet but his legs are numb and uncooperative, and he can’t move his hands or arms. Mori’s lips part to continue speaking but Dazai can’t do this, he can’t hear anymore of this. He’d always known in his heart that Odasaku’s death was his fault even if he couldn’t remember much about his mother and Aunt Kiye and their desperate attempts to hide him from the Port Mafia. He’d known, but hearing it-hearing the confirmation, it’s too much for him.

Before Mori can say anything, Dazai is startled from his spiraling thoughts when you stand up so abruptly that your chair goes flying back. Your expression is haunted and you’re not looking at him again, but Dazai is glad for it, because he thinks he’s about to throw up.

“I… I need a minute. I just need a minute,” you say shakily before fleeing the room into Mori’s office so quickly that you almost trip over the chair you knocked over.

The room is silent in your wake, and after a few impossibly long moments, Mori stands to follow you into the other room. The three Port Mafia executives left in the room don’t say anything for a moment, and Dazai is just trying to breathe. He’s trying to breathe and process what Mori just said, but he’s failing miserably at it. 

It’s the woman, Kouyou, who speaks first.

“She’s going to kill me for knowing about this,” she says simply, sparing a glance down at the dead body on her opposite side. “I’ve never seen her like this before. Even when Chuuya-kun went missing for a few days, this…”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have conspired against her,” Piano Man sings, looking entirely unperturbed. “I mean honestly, after what the previous boss did to you, I would’ve thought you’d be more sympathetic. Silly me to think you aren’t a cold-hearted bitch.”

Dazai tries to pay attention to what they’re saying, he tries to ground himself with the conversation happening so he can forget the feeling of Odasaku’s blood all over his hands, staining his clothes, smeared on his face. He tries to replace Mori’s echoing words with what they’re saying but he can’t.

“We were trying to get to you.”

“It has nothing to do with sympathy,” Kouyou snaps, but she does look ashamed. “It’s a security threat, it’s bigger than love. This boy could spell the end of everything we’ve built.”

“She won’t kill you, Ane-san,” Chuuya finally speaks up, his knuckles are tight around the armrest of the chair he’s sitting in. “I’ll talk to her, I just-”

“When he touched you to save you, he damned himself.”

“Chuuya-kun, she almost killed you,” Kouyou says so dryly that the words almost don’t even register to Dazai, but when they do, they’re the only thing that effectively draws him from his spiraling thoughts. He looks at Chuuya sharply to see if what Kouyou said was true, and his eyes widen when he only grimaces and looks down. “You and Piano Man. She didn’t even hesitate before pulling the trigger on Ace. She’s unstable right now, there’s no talking to her.”

“But she didn’t,” Chuuya says tightly. “I’ll talk to her, but first…”

Chuuya looks at Dazai so suddenly that he almost wants to snap his head away and ignore him, but he can’t. The ginger studies Dazai so intensely that it makes him want to crawl out of his own skin.

“Did you know?” Chuuya asks, voice low. He’s angry, Dazai can tell from the way a dark red color starts to flicker around his hands, but he’s trying to keep it together. “Tell me. Did you know who she was and use her to get closer to the Mafia for revenge? I’ll spare her the pain of having to put a bullet through your fucking head and kill you myself right now. Did you know who she was and purposely-”

“No,” Dazai interrupts, voice hoarse. “No. I didn’t-I didn’t know.”

Chuuya stares at him for a few seconds, studying him like he doesn’t know if he actually believes him, but after what feels like an eternity, he finally shakes his head and looks away, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Fuck, this is such a mess,” Chuuya breathes out, voice strained. “Fuck. She-”

Chuuya doesn’t finish his sentence because the door to Mori’s office reopens and you step back into the room, Mori at your heels. Your eyes are red, but your expression is withdrawn now, void of the tumultuous emotions that had been raging across it just a few minutes before. You settle back in your seat. Your eyes flit over Dazai like he’s not even there before focusing on Mori.

Dazai suddenly has a bad feeling.

“I’m not quite sure how you escaped us after that,” Mori continues where he left off, and Dazai is so sick of the man’s voice that he almost wants to rip his own ears off. “Probably Sakaguchi-san from the SDUP, I recall him and Oda-san being close… but that brings us to the present, doesn’t it? Four years later, you stumble into our lovely hime… Come, dear, let me tell you my running theory, and you tell me how accurate I am, yeah?”

Mori is looking at you now, eyes glittering as he waits for your response. Dazai has his own serious issues with the man, but he thinks it’s sick the way he’s enjoying your clear discomfort and increasing distress. Your jaw tightens a bit, but you nod, signaling for Mori to speak. Dazai’s nails dig into his pants as he waits for Mori to continue. Neither of you look at him, and Dazai’s lips part to speak so he can preemptively deny whatever Mori is about to accuse him of, but he can’t push a single word out. 

“Your first meeting with him wasn’t by chance. A cafe, maybe… a bar?” Mori offers, watching your face carefully for a reason. You look away at the second option, and the man’s lips curve up. “A bar, then. One you frequent, I bet. The one in Hodogaya-ku, perhaps? Your first meeting, but not Shuji-kun’s first time seeing you. Ui Koutarou—his journalism professor at YNU—wrote his first article implicating the Mori Corporation’s connection with the Port Mafia in February of this year, around a month before rising fourth year students register for classes. Shuji-kun, naturally, has been following anything related to the Port Mafia closely, so when he sees a class being offered in the fall by the same man who has been openly targeting the Port Mafia, he sees an opportunity and signs up for the class.”

No, Dazai tries to say. His lips form the word, but the sound doesn’t come from his lips. No. No, no, no, no. You look haunted suddenly, and Dazai remembers the argument he had with you during the government event in Tokyo. How cold and withdrawn you’d become. How when he confronted you next, you accused him of working with Ui Koutarou and blackmailing you for money. Mori is reigniting all of the initial fears you once had.

“Ui-san has had his sights set on you for quite a while, dear. You don’t need me to tell you that, you’re very well aware of the man’s hatred of you… When Shuji-kun started classes in the fall, Ui-san roped him into his plans, and you became his project. That wretched man had many documents on you. I had the Black Lizards raid his apartment after we captured him—most were harmless, detailing places you frequented and people seen around you, but when Shuji-kun became involved, he started using that information to manufacture meetings between you. I imagine that after you met him that first time, he started appearing around you rather regularly. Bump-ins at that cafe you like in Minami-ku, on the streets—he even started renting an apartment on property that we own after he realized the opportunity he had with Ui… he’s only been living there since the summer, you know?”

His last apartment wasn’t close enough to the school, Dazai wants to argue desperately. He’d been lucky that a cheap apartment opened up in Hodogaya-ku before the semester started—he’s been trying to get one since his first year. It has nothing to do with-

Dazai suddenly feels nauseous again, everything is spinning around him—he still hears Aunt Kiye screaming at him, he still hears the creaking of the rope his mother hung himself on, he still hears Mori’s confirming that Odasaku’s death was his fault. And now this, and you’re not looking at him again, and he’s not saying anything, why isn’t he saying anything? Why isn’t he denying this?

“He attached himself to you quickly, didn’t he?” Mori asks rhetorically. “Too quickly, I’m sure you had doubts—not even your ability makes people reliant on you as swift as he became. How long did it take for him to start prying for information? Trying to make you slip up and implicate yourself with the Mafia? Confess yourself as an ability user?”

The night of the earthquake when you showed up at his apartment, he remembers dizzily. He started pressing you on your political opinion because he remembered Ui saying that all of the criminal syndicates in Japan are going to do whatever it takes to prevent the military bill from passing. But he wasn’t… doing it to prove anything? He just wanted to know more about you, he was curious, he was finally putting the mystery that you are together. It wasn’t malicious—he just wanted to know you. That’s all it ever was, he’s only ever wanted to know you.

“When did you tell him about your ability? More about our organization? Around when the Guild started making their move in Yokohama, I’m sure. He never told you about his ability until his hand was forced. In fact, I’m willing to bet he lied and said he didn’t know he had one, but tell me, do you really think an assassin of the caliber of Oda Sakunosuke would not realize his ward had an ability that negated his own? That he wouldn’t be trained in how to use it… Most importantly, if all of this wasn’t a scheme of revenge—if he really did love you—then why did he never get rid of the flash drive that contained the proof that his journalism house published? The proof that got you thrown in prison?”

You’re crying.

Dazai’s throat swells when he sees the tears silently tracking over your cheeks. At once, he realizes that he’s never seen you cry before; he itches to reach over to you, to grab your hand or wipe away the tears. He doesn’t—partially because he doesn’t think he could move if he tried, but mostly because he knows that he’s the reason you’re crying. 

He wants to assure you that none of this is true. He had nothing to do with the Guild—they kidnapped him for fuck’s sake. He didn’t know about his ability, he didn’t even know Odasaku was an assassin. And he was just… careless with the flash drive, and he shouldn’t have been, but there was always so much going on, and he was so new to having someone in his life that really loved him that he was quick to bask in it and forget everything else.

He doesn’t assure you of anything, instead he watches as Mori reaches out to do what Dazai wants to do. He brushes away your tears and turns your face to look at him, a disgustingly sympathetic look on his face.

“I know you were eager to believe that someone could love you without your ability at work influencing them, dear,” Mori murmurs, “but people like us will never find a love that pure. There will always be other factors at work sullying it—wealth, revenge, threats. You understand now what this was, don’t you?”

No, Dazai wants to scream at you. He does love you, this wasn’t some ridiculous revenge plot for family he hardly remembered until this meeting, that-

“I do.”

Dazai finally is able to make a noise when those two words leave your lips. It’s weak—something caught between a wheeze and a whimper that sounds too loud in the silent room. He feels eyes on him—Chuuya and Kouyou’s in particular. Not yours. You stare down at the table.

“Ogai-dono,” Kouyou clears her throat. “If I may… perhaps we could… send the boy away. Abroad. Ensure he never comes back to Japan so we don’t have to risk him coming back and disrupting things.”

“We could give him a seat at the table,” Chuuya interrupts, ignoring the wide-eyed look both Kouyou and Piano Man give him because of the radical idea. “We’re down an executive anyway. We tell people who he is, that he supports the new regime. It’s what you wanted to begin with, right, boss? You wanted one of the grandchildren to legitimize the passing of power. We could make it work.”

“It’s too risky.” Mori isn’t the one to speak, Piano Man is, but he doesn’t look happy to do it. “Maybe back then it could’ve worked, but the Port Mafia killed his friends and family, and hunted him down. Too much has happened, he’s an unpredictable variable that we can’t risk. We can’t trust that he’ll just accept it all, that he won’t work behind the scenes to take us down. Giving him any leverage in the organization is the last thing we should do, but what Kouyou-”

“Leave him alive and we risk everything we’ve built falling apart—a civil war igniting, Yokohama being caught in the crossfires and all of our foreign enemies crawling into the city to reap the benefits of our fall. It’s one life or hundreds—thousands, even,” Mori interrupts, voice cool. He turns his gaze onto you. “I trust you know what has to be done, dear.”

Your expression is resolved, a heavy emotion in your eyes that tells him your answer before you even speak. “Yeah, I know.”

You stand up, and Dazai knows that it’s over. When you look down at him, it’s with a type of apathy that makes his stomach twist—he’d rather hate than nothing. His lips part to speak but he pauses when you shake your head slightly, so subtly that he almost doesn’t even notice it.

“Get up,” you say flatly, and then glance at Chuuya. “Chuuya, will you…?” 

“Yeah,” Chuuya replies without you even needing to finish the question. His voice is hoarse, he looks more than a little disturbed. “Yeah. Of course.”

Chuuya rises to his feet and then grabs Dazai’s bicep to pull him up to his feet too. Dazai doesn’t even have the heart to give him a dirty look in response, following along as he leads him out of the conference room and into the hallway. 

For a split second, Dazai really believes that maybe you’re just trying to fool Mori, you made him think you were taking Dazai to have him killed so that you can get him out of here safely, but even once you’re out of the conference room without Mori’s eyes carefully watching you, you don’t look at him.

“Get one of the clean up crews up here,” you tell one of the guards waiting in the hall instead as you frown at your phone, typing out a quick text to someone. You pointedly ignore how alarmed they are by the offhand comment to click on the button to the elevator.

When you look back at the two of them, it’s not to look at Dazai—it’s to look at Chuuya. The two of you are having a conversation, Dazai can tell that much, and he thinks that maybe he should be putting in the effort to figure out what’s going on, what you have planned, but he’s just… tired. He’s not even sure if he cares what happens to him anymore, and he figures the worst case scenario is that he dies at your hands, and of all of the ways he could go, he thinks that would be the most preferable, because at least you would be the last thing he saw.

He doesn’t try to speak again until the three of you are in the elevator and the doors have closed. 

“I-”

“Stop.”

Dazai is startled by the sharpness in your voice. He looks at you, but you’re still not looking at him, your lips are curved down as you stare at your phone, typing furiously. He glances up into the left corner of the elevator, noticing the cameras—maybe that’s why, he thinks a bit unsurely, deciding to stay quiet until out of the building. 

When the elevator doors open, it’s Chuuya that urges him to keep walking by nudging his shoulder. You don’t touch him, don’t look at him. There’s nobody in the main entrance of the building, which Dazai thinks is a bit odd, but he bites back any comments he might have when he sees a black car waiting outside the building.

The doors to the building open at your approach, and Dazai inhales the crisp, fresh air greedily, not even having realized how stifled he’d felt in that room with Mori, you, and the other Port Mafia executives. He thinks maybe that you’ll sit in the backseat with him and he’ll finally be able to talk to you, but you don’t. You open the door to the passenger seat and sit there without even sparing him a glance.

Dazai’s throat starts to swell again, stopping in his tracks as he stares at where you disappeared behind the car door. Chuuya pushes him forward, not letting him linger for long—he opens the door to the backseat and pretty much manhandles Dazai into the car before taking a seat next to him.

He recognizes the person at the wheel—Albatross, your friend. He’s driven you and Dazai around before, every time Dazai gets in the car with him, he makes a sharp comment aimed to embarrass you in some manner. This time, he doesn’t even look at Dazai through the rearview mirror. He just puts the car in gear and starts driving.

A pit starts to form in Dazai’s stomach. Dazai tries to initiate conversation with you again now that you’re outside of the Port Mafia headquarters within closed quarters, nails scraping against his pants as he decides what he wants to say.

“I d-”

“Stop.”

When you cut him off now, Dazai’s stomach flips. He stares at the side of your face, trying to understand why you won’t even listen to him. You can’t actually believe what Mori was saying, you can’t. You were faking him out, tricking him into thinking you fell for it—you had to be, you have to be. You can’t possibly believe him. 

“You won’t… even hear me out?” Dazai asks you quietly.

“There’s nothing left to say.”

Oh, Dazai thinks to himself, withdrawing. He stares at you for a moment before turning away stiffly, expression tight and strained as he stares out the window, watching the buildings pass by as they get closer and closer to the ports. 

You believe it, he realizes dully. You believe that it was all just a scheme. You believe that everything was manufactured, that he used you for some fantastical revenge plan, that he never loved you. You believe it.

But it doesn’t make sense, he thinks desperately. He doesn’t understand how you’re not seeing through it, and if you are, why aren’t you at least giving him some hint? He should try to say something again—he knows that, but he finds himself unable to. He’s a smooth-talker, quick on his feet, but never when it comes to you—since the day he met you, he’s been fumbling over words awkwardly, but now it’s costing him everything. He finds ash in his mouth preventing him from salvaging anything he might’ve had with you.

Dig your nails in and cling, he reminds himself, but his nails have become rounded out and blunted from how long he was scratching at his pants and skin while remembering all those memories he locked away. He tries to dig his nails in and cling, but his voice fails him and his nails can’t even find purchase on your skin, you slip out of his hands as easily as an eel.

He’s going to lose you. He might’ve lost you already.

Dazai thinks that’s worse than the realization that he really might be about to die.

The car comes to a stop much quicker than Dazai had hoped, and he stiffens when you waste no time before getting out of the car. He makes no move to join you outside, and Chuuya sighs next to him.

“Get out,” Chuuya says flatly. When Dazai doesn’t budge again, Chuuya snaps, “Get out of the car-”

“-and go, we don’t have time! They’ve found us.”

Dazai draws his knees to his chest, breath becoming a bit labored as his aunt’s voice echoes in his ears. He doesn’t even realize that Chuuya has gotten out of the car until Dazai’s car door is pried open. For a split second, he confuses the executive with his aunt as he’s yanked out of the car—he’s fourteen again and being abandoned by the only person he has left, and he can just barely bite back the “don’t leave me here!” that almost spills from his lips as his knees hit the ground hard.

Dazai is instantly hit with a thick scent that makes him gag. It’s noxious, almost entirely unbearable, clogs his throat to the point he almost struggles to breathe—a blend of rot, acrid chemicals, and something he doesn’t recognize, but it’s sickeningly sweet. As he pushes himself to his feet, he notices you pass your gun over to Chuuya, but in that moment, Dazai is more concerned with figuring out where he is, and when he does, his stomach drops.

The dumping grounds by ports stretch endlessly under the heavy, overcast sky. Mounds of trash rose like grotesque hills patched with scraps of torn plastic and suspicious lumps that Dazai doesn’t have to get close to know what they are. The ground is uneven and treacherous—a mix of sticky mud and sharp shards of discarded glass and plastic, and pools of murky water shimmering with oil slicks. 

It’s disgusting, and Dazai has a feeling it might be his final resting place. 

He trails over to the side of the road and his gaze tracks down to the ground directly below him. It’s not a far drop, hardly a foot or two, and certainly less gross than some of the other parts of the area, but that’s a low bar to meet. He tears his eyes away from the scenery around him to look back at you, lips parted to speak but he doesn’t say anything.

You’re leaning against the front of the car, watching him with an expression that Dazai can’t describe. Sad, maybe, resigned. Chuuya is back in the car, from what Dazai can tell, he's still fiddling with your gun—he wonders if this is his way of letting the two of you say goodbye in private.

“I do love you,” Dazai says. His voice cracks over the words. “No ulterior motives. No schemes. I just loved you. Love you.”

You don’t say anything for a moment, eyes drawing from him somewhere over to the side like you’re looking for something, but after a moment, you look back at him, your face a little softer than it was before.

“I know,” you tell him quietly. “I know, Osamu.”

Dazai’s lips part to say something back—he doesn’t even know what he wants to say, because confusion fogs his mind. If you know, then why-

Why are you doing this?

He doesn’t get the chance to ask. The car door opens and Chuuya steps back out, he passes your gun back to you and Dazai sees you subtly slide something into his hand too, but he can’t tell what it is. You sigh as you look down at the gun before looking back up at him again, he holds his breath as you make your way closer to him.

His lashes flutter shut, expecting to feel the cool barrel of the gun against his forehead, but his breath hitches when he instead feels the familiar warmth of your hand cradling his cheek. Your fingertips are flaked with Ace’s dried blood, but Dazai still leans into your touch, eyes sliding back open to look at you.

Up close, your expression is twisted with regret and… is that fear? Dazai can’t tell, he doesn’t care, he’s more preoccupied with memorizing the image of you before he runs out of time to.

“Forgive me,” you whisper so faintly that Dazai almost doesn’t hear you.

“I do,” he replies just as softly.

Your face crumbles as you look away. You take a step away from him, and your hand drops down from his face. Dazai instantly mourns the loss. You let out a heavy, shaky breath, sparing one last look down at the gun in your hand, one to Chuuya who stands half a step behind you, and then you look at Dazai again.

“Forgive me,” you say again, this time as you lift the gun—your voice is raspy, breath uneven.

Your fingers tremble so violently that the whole gun is unsteady, but Dazai doesn’t even care to look at it, gaze focused on your face instead. 

“I do,” Dazai repeats.

You pull the trigger. 

[a-spes]

DEVIOUS LIES — MASTERLIST (27.842 words)

| Summary (anon request) — When your friend asked you out for a drink, you didn't think much about it. Yet, maybe you should've, because that night ruined your life. It may have been two years since the events, but you still can't stop think about what you've lost. Your job, your friends, your lover, and even your mind was left in that motel room. Tags — Natasha Romanoff x Avenger!R, Wanda Maximoff x Avenger!R, Avengers x Avenger!Reader, Angst Without Comfort, Bittersweet.

| Part one. — 3.842 words. Warnings - Cheating, Mental Health Issues, Suicidal Ideations, Self-depreciation.

It is the last time you’ve seen her, and as pitiful as it is, you have long cherished this last contact with the redhead. No matter how violent and hateful it has been, it was still the last time you’ve touched the love of your life, and you missed it the moment she let go of your arm. Her, and her touch. Despite everything, despite the years, you still needed her presence by your side, and it doesn’t matter if your relationship has to be brutal, you are ready to accept anything if it means being close to her for a few more days.

| Part two. — 8.792 words. Warnings - Mentions of Cheating, Mental Health Issues, Suicidal Ideations, Self-depreciation, Mentions of SA&SH, Manipulation, Toxic Relationship&Friendship, Revenge Porn, NC Use of Drugs.

The pictures, the clothes, the gifts, even your favorite cutlery has been burned a few days after you left them. It is almost as if you’ve never stepped a foot into the building, as if you’ve never existed. The woman was fine with the idea of pretending that nothing happened — She was fine with the idea of erasing every remaining part of your relationship.

| Part three. — 8.929 words. Warnings - Mental Health Issues, Suicidal Ideations, Self-deprecation, Depression, Manipulation, Toxic Friendship, Severe Injuries (R), Mentions of Death, No Happy Ending.

“I am a hero,” you whispered in your breath, “and that’s what heroes do,” you added, repeating the sentence once more. You were trying to find a little bravery in this mantra, the one you needed to push your limits a little further.  Yet, all you find in these words is deep despair, because a part of you knows that they are not true — and you are not a hero. Not anymore. You tried to believe Fury’s lies. You wanted to believe them, and deceive yourself because it gave you a bit of hope, a reason to carry on, but the illusion couldn’t last for eternity. What’s a hero when they are hated by the whole world? A villain.

| The scars in our hearts. - 6.279 words. Warnings - Self-doubt, Self-depreciation, Mental Health Issues, Mention of Bad&Unhealthy Copism Mechanisms, Toxic Relationships&Friendships.

It has been almost three years since you came back, and it still wasn’t enough. Sometimes, you think about letting go of that dream of yours, the one that makes you believe that things could still get back to normal, even when nothing was —; but how could you do something like that? How could you possibly think about abandoning them again when they’ve been willing to give you a second chance? You weren’t ready yet to accept that the home you’ve been longing to return didn’t feel like it anymore, at least not without first trying your hardest to make things right. Thus you kept pushing yourself a bit more everyday, at the cost of your health — which seemed a very small price to pay in exchange for the feeling of being at home again.

[disheveled-opossum]

Alright, this has probably been done before, and I'm not SUPER into the whole, "humans are space orcs," community, so this feels like breaching containment for me, but I had a thought. Yanno how a lot of people who have been in toxic and abusive relationships, (familial, platonic, romantic etc.) often talk about their experiences with how hard it is to leave the people who are hurting them, because of various different reasons from codependency, to emotional manipulation, trauma bonds, and so on and so forth? Well, what if some ill-intentioned aliens catch wind of humans' ability to pack bond, even with those who've hurt them, but what they don't realize, is how fucking capital 'A' ANGERY, we get when someone we know, is being abused. And I don't mean this in a white knight, someone swooping in to save the other human from the relationship, with little to no input from the victim, these situations are very delicate and complex. But like, especially the side of this community, that likes imagining humans as notorious deathworlders, imagine that you, as an ill-intentioned alien, have, for whatever reason, decided to use a human's pack bonding instinct against them, you think this is their weakness, that you now have immense control over them, you're enjoying the power high, but now, this human's family/friends/whatever, fucking hate you, you go to a party, or gathering, hell, if you live close enough, you just step foot out of your dwelling, and you're met with one of space's most infamous predatory species, glaring at you, they don't strike, they don't yell, they're generally civil, all things considered, but you feel watched, hunted, as you feel their gaze on you wherever you go. Idk, I'm just rambling.

[candy8448]

Oh when legend talks about when ravio never showed his face during the entire time they knew each other, and then once he showed his face he almost immedietly married legend to get citizenship and he talks about it like its fine but the chain are concered cuz ravio gets to know everything about legend but gives nothing in return not even his face (in their eyes) and takes advantage of that fact, which is super creepy

Also when ravio first opens the door, ravio being bad at words too hugs legend is like "you know i hate it when i can't keep my eyes on you" (as in he wants to make sure that legend isnt hurt or at least not without being there to help him) and the chain are thinking oh no toxic possesivness/control 0.0

He also gives them a wide (suspicious) grin as the chain enter the house

When legend leaves to go inform zelda of new their adventure, ravio waves him off like "goodbye my bunny!" And twilight is just thinking about what legend said about ravio only loving him for being a rabbit

While legend is gone, the chain starts interogating ravio on his relationship with legend and ravio, also being bad at words like legend and the circumstances of their meeting and adventure just being weird in general, whatever he says just sounds very concerning to the chain

And then one of the four eldest boys backs ravio against the wall to trap him as a final confrontation when legend bursts in because he forgot something and then chaos ensues as he is trying to figure out what is going on and calm everyone down

Dude i wanna write a fic so bad but the motivation just isnt there

Fanfic prompt: Ravio and Legend have the weirdest relationship in the entire chain and it literally is the equivalent of a girl who had a perfect dream partner and then afterwards just settled for the least likely weirdo to abandon her

Like Legend definitively has no idea what a standard relationship is

It is either perfect or messy as hell with lots of issues from both sides

the chain talks about romance during a quiet moment (only the older ones over alcohol)

Time speaks about Malon and how much he loves her

Sky is not passing the opportunity to talk about Zelda

Twilight is talking about how a girl he loved left him and how he had to accept that she had left him for the safety of Hyrule

Warriors talks about some dates he had with some random women and doesn’t pass the chance to slander Cia for being a weird creep

And then Legend's turn starts

And he tells them the abridged story about how he met Ravio (because he will start crying if he has to talk about Marin)

But does it so poorly that everyone now thinks that Legend is in a relationship with a living, breathing red flag

Because who breaks into other peoples houses sets up a shop and scams you in your own god damn house

Then has the audacity to steal the weapons you were forced to rent from you if you get injured

And just rerent them to YOU

And then married you less then a month later to get a legal way to stay in Hyrule as an immigrant

And still is squatting at your house with their illegal weapons selling gig

And the only reason why you are not reporting on this madness is because you know for certain that he won’t leave you as your first lover did

Like afterwards the chain contemplated absolutely everything legend has ever done

Because his preservation skills on their adventure are not human

But he apparently sees nothing wrong with that relationship he has

Warriors already knew Ravio and his already low opinion on the scammer just dropped to below hell itself

Because no matter how much they argue Legend is his annoying younger brother who he won’t let down by letting him continue that mess of a relationship

Because Warriors knows how utterly awful such people can be and only barely escaped such a relationship himself with Cia

And now their new argument topic is about how awful Ravio seems and While Warriors is determined to make Legend see the truth about his supposedly terrible relationship

Legend not noticing that Warriors is serious about an argument for once accidentally makes it worse

Warriors: Do you think that he won't leave you if you go on adventures

Legend : he definitely won’t leave my house so no worries about that one

Warriors: ….?

Legend : I have high standards afterall

Warriors *genuinely concerned*: those are not standards that is basic decency what the actual…!?,?,”?!

Legend : he won’t even sell my stuff if he is feeling nice ,because he is a good boyfriend

Warriors: LINK WTF ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT THAT IS NOT FINE AT ALL

Legend : he also has never hurt me for no good reason so stop being hypocritical about it for no god damn reason (talking about that one time when Ravio had to slap him out of shock or when he did his stitches or similar necessary pain)

Warriors: WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK !!?!?!?,!!!?!

Legend : it didn’t even hurt that much honestly it was just a slight sting if anything

And by that point Warriors was ready to execute somebody because his brother truly says everything like it is something nice of his partner

Spoiler it was not Legend

Twilight joined as well when Legend told him how much Ravio likes bunnies and how it probably keeps their entire relationship together

Because that is just wrong to diminish someone’s abilities into just that one thing ( Legend should stop with the self depriveing jokes for his husband’s sake )

By the time the chain was in Legend's Hyrule again everyone was out for blood

[gwynautismfanblog1]

Not going to lie, I was really enthusiastic about the idea of an antagonist figure Caitlyn. Arcane could've woven a phenomenal narrative about how easily people of privilege, even the ones who try to be empathetic to an oppressed class, can be swayed into genocidal fervor with ease when their comfort is disrupted.

To some extent they did, but I wish Arcane committed to the bit and pursued a villain!Caitlyn. Plus I'm a sucker for lovers to enemies and would love to see Vi having to choose between Caitlyn and Zaun. I think they were headed in the direction of a villain arc for Cait but ultimately chickened out on it.

Also, I feel the familial relationship Ambessa and Caitlyn had was such wasted potential. Ambessa and Caitlyn were perfect for each other in a familial way. Ambessa was a bitter mother who was estranged from her daughter, leaving her essentially daughterless in her eyes. And Caitlyn was just made motherless.

The two could've had such well written toxic synergy. It would've been a Greek tragedy having Caitlyn slowly corrupted by Ambessa's influence to the point that when she reunited with Vi, she was barely recognizable. I can't say I'm fond of Caitlyn betraying Ambessa. Ambessa's character definitely stagnated once Caitlyn was out of the mix.

I think right now in the age of radicalization, Caitlyn could have been a very scary and effective cautionary tale about how easily fascist thought can win. That scene with Ambessa recruiting Caitlyn felt so ominous and foreboding, like the birth of a monster. The first act had such a good set up, but ultimately nothing came out of it in my opinion.

Anyways, this is just my opinion and I would love to know if anyone else shared similar thoughts regarding Caitlyn's character arc. Who else wanted a legit Caitlyn corruption arc?

EDIT: I do like the idea of her falling into fascism, but then changing her mind to support the Zaunite resistance. That could send a valuable message that it is not too late to turn back from evil ideologies to any people who've been radicalized.

[thundergrace]

Ai-oon's relationship with her grandmother is so complicated. I very much appreciate that.

The parental figures are very black and white in these things. There's a rare series where they're great. Most they're just the bad guys. But it's always very simple.

I don't think I've seen one where there's actual complexity in that dynamic- AND it doesn't even have anything to do with anyone's sexuality yet. This is just a VERY realistic plot line from the perspective of the grandmother tasked with being financially responsible for two kids all of a sudden and maybe not making the best choices for them both or seeing what a toxic divide she helped create between them by treating them differently. I mean, I'm not defending her, but I am saying there's meat here. There's exposition. There's something to understand about her actions and decisions, and that alone is what I like.

[taesanboki]

What are we..? - K. LH

pairing: toxic!leehan x fem!reader

༄ summary: after an amount of time full of flirtatious acts and joyful dates spent with leehan, you were blinded by love and thought you found the one even imagining yourself as a mother. But maybe leehan wasn’t who you thought he was..

༄ contains: angst, swearing (literally one word), love bombing, leehan is a dick!, use of y/n, use of leehan’s real name (donghyun), idk if i missed anything but enjoy 👏😊!

★ a/n: so uhm funny story..after i posted my intro i also got chewed up by a tiger and died! (the tiger being my sister..) so i have come back from the dead to start posting 😊 (the tiger has been threatening me to post so here i am 😊!)

more under the cut!

The clock read 8pm as you stood cold and upset outside of a fancy restaurant that donghyun had told you he’d meet you at but clearly never showed up.

He was supposed to be here by 7pm but after many missed calls and avoided texts you decided to wait figuring he was just busy getting ready. But 10 minutes turned into 20 minutes, 20 turning into 30, and 30 turning into an hour.

You scoffed looking at your phone screen to see no new notifications which is no shocker since this isn’t the first time he’s stood you up.

“What a dick” you mutter to yourself as you storm away to the direction of your car. This dinner was supposed to be a “make up” dinner since he’d been busy with other things and hadn’t been making plans with you. You had gotten ready with such an excited manner putting on the dress he loved and the perfume he bought you for your birthday.

You and donghyun hadn’t made it official yet only going on a few dates for the past few months but in such little time you couldn’t help but start falling for him, fast.

He seemed like a nice guy, handsome, caring, sweet, gentle, and everything you could ever ask for in a man. You felt lucky being with a guy like him, you felt the need to do anything to please him, anything to make him feel the same way you did. But soon your efforts seemed to be going to waste as time went on, he felt to be drifting away very slowly.

You slammed your car door shut with a defeated feeling bubbling in your stomach. You felt tears forming on your waterline but this wasn’t something tear worthy so you tried your best to suck it up and drive back home.

The faint music playing in the background made the feeling settle down a bit since your favorite soft artist was playing, clairo.

Eventually you made it back home and got changed out of your clothes, took a shower, and made your way to bed.

While lying in bed, you couldn’t help but think about what went wrong throughout your small relationship with donghyun. You had thought maybe this could bloom into something more, maybe even having him meet your parents and start a family one day.

You couldn’t help but feel a small pang in your chest, tears begging to be released.

You couldn’t contain it any longer and let it flow, over, and over again. Your sobs grew louder as you gripped the pillow under you, you never thought a guy could make you feel this way. Both happy and excited for his next move mixed with disappointment and frustration.

You didn’t know what to expect every time he promised to make it up to you. You always thought he would change and start to be better but it always ended up being the same results.

Once you calmed down a bit, you drifted to sleep with racing thoughts and pressure built up in your chest. Let’s hope tomorrow will be a better day..

The cruel ringing of your alarm tore you out of your slumber while you were having the best dream. Where Donghyun wasn’t a complete dick and actually took interest in you.

It saddened you that you could only dream about him being that way rather than experiencing it in real life.

You pushed all thoughts aside and focused on getting ready for work.

Once you were finished, you grabbed your keys and headed out of your apartment to your car when a text popped on your screen from the one and only, donghyun.

The worst part about being in this situationship with donghyun was you couldn’t say no, no matter how hard you tried he always had a way of convincing you.

You let out a disappointed sigh, you knew that you couldn’t get too excited anymore since most of the time when he asked to go out he stood you up with no excuse and you always forgave him. But a little part of you still had hope that he’d come through this time.

You made it to work, starbucks, clocked in and started working.

Work was going peaceful until a customer walked in. Male, a little taller than you, in his mid 30’s.

You watched him as he walked up to the counter to where you stood, his walk had this pettiness in it that you couldn’t help but choke down a small giggle.

“Hi! Welcome to starbucks, what’s the name for the order?” You greeted the man enthusiastically. “rob and uh can I get a tall iced pumpkin latte and a pumpkin cream cheese muffin, make it quick I don’t have all day.” The man replied while pulling out his phone.

You scoffed at the man’s behavior, now known as rob. No thank you? No please? You tried to keep your cool as you told the man the price of his order and turned to start making it.

After about 10 minutes you finished his order and went back to the front to call his name.

“I got a tall iced pumpkin latte and a pumpkin cream cheese muffin for rob!” Shortly after calling out the order, the man stomped over to the counter, snatched his order without taking his gaze off his phone, and walked out.

Not even 5 minutes go by before the bell on the door rings and the same man walks in angrily, his drink in one hand and his phone in the other.

“This is wrong.” “Uhm no sir that’s an iced pumpkin latte just like you ordered..” You shot back.

“This has foam. I didn’t ask for foam.” The man barked. You took a deep breath in, “Well sir make sure to clarify that when you order so we can get it right next time” You smiled sarcastically.

“Give me a refund now or I want to speak to your manager.”

You paused and bit your lip to keep yourself from spilling out obscenities for the sake of your job. “Unfortunately, we can’t refund you for a drink you already took a sip out of, i’m sorry i got your order wrong, have a nice day!”

“Young lady do you know who i am? I could get you fired from here with one complaint.” The man spat at you.

Oh my god someone kill me you thought. “Sir, just like I told you there’s nothing i can do, the least i can do is apologize.”

The man rambled on and on leaving you to stand there with your hands behind your back and taking deep breaths. The anger boiling inside of you was begging to be let out.

Just as you were about to snap, your manager stepped out to ask what all the noise was about and ordered you to take a break.

You stormed to the back and tore off your apron, sitting down on a chair trying to calm yourself down.

As frustrated as you were, you couldn’t let this ruin your mood, but it seemed like the universe wanted you to always have bad days.

Soon your shift ended, it was 7pm and you were exhausted and still a little frustrated while you rushed home to take a shower and finally relax.

You had completely forgotten about donghyun wanting to come over until you opened your apartment door.

You were greeted with your favorite candies and a bowl of popcorn while donghyun made himself at home with his feet on your table. That ticked you a little.

As soon as he saw you walk through the door he stood up and walked over to you and pulled you into a small hug. “Geez I didn’t know you were working for so long, i’ve been waiting here for a while!” He chuckled as he led you to the couch. 

You reluctantly sat down, “How did you get in my house?!” He laughed before responding, “Did you forget you hid a key under your doormat?”

“Fuck i need to take that out” You whispered to yourself.

“Let’s watch a movie come on!” Donghyun quickly put his feet back on the table and grabbed the whole bowl of popcorn.

You closed your eyes and shook your head, trying to keep your anger tamed. “Donghyun, i never said you can come to my house unannounced.”

He looked at you, “We’re watching a movie together right?” You cleared your throat, “I never said yes but i appreciate the effort you put into this but i need you to leave.”

“What? Are you mad at me?” He tries to pull you into a hug to keep your mind off of your frustration.

You didn’t reciprocate the hug, just sitting there letting him lean on you. “Donghyun.” “y/n let’s watch a movie come on that’s why i’m here!” “Donghyun-“ “y/n stop talking we’re watching a movie”

You closed your eyes, you were fed up with him not acknowledging the problems and mental problems he’s caused, only making little effort to tell you he’s sorry without using actual words.

You snapped, “Donghyun im done, im so fucking done with you not caring about my feelings and making me wait for you every night whether it’s out in the cold or even a text back! The thing i hate most about this- whatever we are is how you don’t even make an effort to make me feel better, how you don’t even know how much pain and exhaustion you’ve caused me, how you don’t realize how much i’m willing to do for you!” Tears now streaming down your face all the emotion and frustration built up spilling out.

Donghyun stared at you confused for a moment as if he didn’t know what you were saying. “Y/n..what are you talking about..?” a nervous chuckle coming out of him.

“The fact that you’re not taking me serious right now says everything I need to know-“ you sniffled, “donghyun, can you tell me one thing? What are we..?”

It got quiet, donghyun not knowing what to say. The silence was eating you alive, only your heavy breaths being heard.

The silence lasted for several minutes before donghyun finally spoke, “.. We’re friends y/n..”

That felt like a stab in the heart, did all of this mean nothing to him? Was all of this just for fun?

The pain in your chest was unbearable, now it was your turn to stay quiet.

The both of you stared at each other for what felt like hours, donghyun’s eyes were glossed over while your face was coated with tears.

You took a deep breath in and looked away, “Donghyun please leave..” You whispered with a shaky voice. “Y/n-“ “leave.”

Without another word, donghyun got up, dusted off his clothes, and walked out taking a small glance before slamming the door.

As soon as you heard the door shut, you let out ugly sobs. Your heart ached, it felt like it shattered into microscopic pieces.

You sat there with your face in your hands, shaking rapidly basically drowning in your tears for hours upon hours.

It hurt. it hurt so bad and you couldn’t do anything about it. All you could do was cry.

All of your effort, all of the affection you’ve given him, everything you’ve sacrificed just to keep him happy over your own happiness had all gone to waste.

The rest of the night all you did was cry, replaying all the interactions you’ve had, thinking of the good times, yearning for something that could never be.

끝!! im sorry for not posting for a month after my intro as i said that tiger ATTACKED me but im here now so tell me your thoughts!

[idolomantises]

I’ve seen people make excuses for the writing by mentioning it’s all just set up for spin offs and sequels but… I don’t want that? Why on earth would I want to wait 3 years for a show to say “oh by the way these characters will get proper conclusions in the spin offs”.

Just tl:dr I’m over this series and don’t plan on watching any of the sequels or spin offs. Maybe if they introduce a hot robot character I’ll check it out.

There’s not even a promise that every single character that has an inconclusive ending (which is all of them btw) will have spin offs and sequel shows. I’m pretty sure they’re likely going to just use a completely different cast since League has a lot of characters.

I’ve seen arguments that the season is bad because it has very few episodes and wasn’t spaced out, and while I do agree the pacing is terrible I also… don’t even think this show could have been salvaged if they gave it a full 4 seasons. Because either way, it was going to end with a lot of characters being badly written, sideline and having arcs unfinished so it can be explored in sequels and spin offs (if that even happen).

One thing I liked about arcane is that it avoided a lot of really bad tropes that I’ve seen modern queer media weirdly struggle with. Arcane avoided the pitfalls written female characters, female characters used to push male relationships and very clearly abusive couples that are dismissed just because they’re gay.

Then season 2 happens and Mel becomes a disposable black woman trope, Sky only existed for male angst, Maddie is literally there for shock value and adds nothing to the narrative, Vi just… turned into that and Caitvi is toxic yuri in a way that’s very unfun and frustrating. These two are seriously so incompatible for each other, but they make out and have sex a lot so I’m sure this destructive relationship with warring idealogies will be fine. Please queer shows for the love of god stop assuming gay characters kissing and fucking makes up for their lack of communication and horrible behavior to each other.

Honestly I’m really disappointed that all these things happened to Sky, Mel and Maddie because watching fans tear apart female characters for 4 years just for existing and getting in the way of ships only for them to be exactly that and for fans to cheer about their suffering pisses me off so bad like girl… what the hell happened did the writers have amnesia. How do you write this show right after season one and fuck up this bad.

Maybe we should stop making videos about how tv shows write female/queer characters well until they’re actually done because this is getting ridiculous.

And yes I want to come back to the issue with how black characters were treated because I do find it pretty gross for Mel and Ekko to be absent for most of the show but then come back to basically save the day so fans don’t complain about how they were obviously sidelined for the sake of other characters. I dont really care for Ekko/Jinx but I did enjoy their time together in the AU.

And another annoyance is that this show did such an incredible job at introducing moral greyness to the show but then got scared to really commit to giving these characters any consequences. And I don’t mean like death or going to jail, but I mean holding grudges. I think Jinx is a very interesting and tragic character but she’s also… a terrorist? She caused the death of their friends and father? Like she’s a grown woman making these decisions. Having characters run around and risk their lives to save her felt a bit frustrating because yeah circumstances lead to this but half of these circumstances are also her fault. I really wish the entire season was about Vi choosing whether or not she was ready to forgive Jinx instead of basically accepting her back because Vander is back.

And VANDER…. Actually I won’t say anything because the more I mention him the more it pisses me off.

I have more thoughts but I gotta draw some comics so I’ll just leave at that. Disappointing season that I think is a lot worse than fans insist it is. It’s not one or two issues, it’s just compounding problems that won’t improve.

Thoughts on Arcane season 2

I didn’t like this season

It’s not bad, but I found it incredibly rushed, cramped and deeply unsatisfying

While season 1 had several protagonists it was also pretty obvious that Vi and Jinx were the emotional core of the entire show so why on earth was their dynamic barely explored here

Vi went from being my favorite character to a character I found deeply frustrating and annoying. What the hell is her personality of getting her sister back and fucking the hot lesbian. She has no consistency whatsoever and it’s something I don’t think the show realizes how batshit the constant flip flopping in. What do you mean you sister tells you she’s going to kill herself and then you start fucking your messy situationship

I don’t really care for Jayvik but I found Jayce’s confession very sweet.

Mel my beautiful queen they’re gonna call you a Mary Sue

What the fuck was with all that Witch shit and Ambessa’s death was incredibly unsatisfying

Victor fans who kept begging the team to not make him a hot buff robot so he can still be a skinny twink pisses me off so bad because now we have an inferior twink robot design. I know fans probably didn’t influence this but I also need to complain about their lack of taste like what do you mean you didn’t want to see a hot buff robot man.

Ekko feels like an incredibly unimportant character and I’m pretty sure fans only like him because of what he can do for Jinx. A part of me wished he actually did hold a grudge just to see how fans reacted.

Season 1 was all about setting up emotional complexities and how nobody was truly evil and the show made it seem like there was no way for anyone to fully recovery from this but everyone is holding hands and singing kumbaya’s so alright nevermind then

This show was honestly a little too in love with Jinx. I did not enjoy her writing in acts 1 and 2.

The jokes were really bad this season

The songs oh my god the SONGS. I didn’t mind them in season 1 but in season 2 it started to remind me of love is blind and anyone who has watched that show would know what a massive insult that is.

Caitvi lesbian sex scene and I couldn’t even enjoy it because the writing was pissing me off

Caitlyn should’ve continued her little fascist arc.

Mel’s arc this season felt like weird fanfiction.

A bunch of random side characters die off unceremoniously after the show gave them so much unnecessary screen time

I hated Isha sorry. I’ve never seen a character more clearly made to die.

Jinx death means nothing to me because I know she isn’t dead so why even do all that lol

I will never call this show sexist but it has done a massive disservice to its female characters.

[aceingonthecake]

Very Personal Take on Good Omens

I've always related more to Crowley. It has always been easier for me to understand them than Aziraphale, especially in s1. Don't get me wrong, I've adored Aziraphale since day one too, I just think that, personality wise, we have less traits in common.

However, since the end of s2, I've been able to really feel for Aziraphale and immediately found myself defending them and their final decision. I won't lie and tell you that, at the beginning, I didn't feel angry and even a little betrayed at all, but once I cooled down and thought about it with a clear mind I got it. And, later, I also got the reason why I was feeling so defensive about Aziraphale.

Last year I broke up with my partner, with whom I also had a lot of mutual friends. I was the one to call it off and I did it because there were some dynamics I couldn't tolerate anymore, but I still loved them and I suffered a lot (still do sometimes). Still, I knew it was the right thing to do for the both of us and I never regretted it.

The thing is, the friends we had in common never really bothered to check up on me: I was the one to call it off and I was the one who'd always appeared emotionally stronger, so why would I be suffering? However, they comforted my ex multiple times, sometimes right after I'd gone home, because they just burst into tears in front of everyone. Obviously, I was very sad and cried a lot too, I just avoided doing it in front of our mutual friends to avoid creating sides (when we broke up we promised this to each other).

Connecting all of this to Good Omens, I believe that something like that is happening in the fandom too. A lot of people are hyper focusing on Crowley's pain because it's more obvious and understandable to them, while they're painting Aziraphale as the "bad one" who broke their heart and doesn't care about them just because they were the one who made the difficult decision. And, while I understand it's easier to see it that way, I also think it's not actually that hard to dig a little deeper.

Just because someone's pain is more evident doesn't mean they were the only one to get hurt and didn't hurt back too. Crowley hurt Aziraphale too, even if we might not see it immediately or as clearly as the other way around. They're both suffering, there is no right and wrong side, they both made mistakes and, nonetheless, it's no doubt they love each other and deserve a happy ending.

I hope this makes sense. It's a very emotionally charged analysis so, even if you don't agree, be polite about it please. I know I didn't get too much into what happened in the final 15, but I've already made (and I'll make) other specific posts about it. This one was more of an emotional take.

I'd also like to underline that none of this is a contest about who's hurting more. It's an invitation not to take for granted other people's feelings but actually try and understand both sides of a situation, even if we naturally relate to or understand one more than the other. (Of course, this doesn't apply to toxic relationships).

[oddlydrawnfriend]

Considering how 911 has forgiven every terrible parent of the main characters, not forgiving Eddie who has devoted his entire life to Christopher since he was born would be absolutely ridiculous. Like Buck's whole speech to Chris on why to forgive Eddie is him forgiving his own parents who drove him to self-harm to gain attention? Which is way worse than what Eddie did. We've been told time and time again how much Eddie's parents messed him up in canon, and now suddenly they are the more 'stable' choice to parent a kid?

Another point if we continue with Eddie losing Chris is it would reinforce the very harmful lie that Eddie thinks: he cannot have joy, forgiveness, and identity outside of his son.

The blowout with Kim only happens once Eddie tries to find closure with Shannon in a very messed up form on non-consensual therapy. Eddie recognized what he was doing wrong and tried putting a stop to it. He was not going to go to Kim again after telling her about Shannon. But once he finds some sort of closure, he is punished harshly by his son walking in and then walking out of his life, making his worst nightmare come true.

He finds forgiveness with the help of the priest and joy in a very very long time? The newest clip seems to punish him immediately with now Chris might not even come back.

CHRIS'S POV

Even from Chris's POV, it doesn't make sense that somehow both the Diaz grandparents suddenly gained emotional intelligence and maturity to raise Chris in a healthy environment to get over his trauma when they couldn't do that for more than 30 years?! Chris is avoiding, I doubt he is getting therapy there to deal with it. It was traumatic and he is valid for being mad but staying mad is hurting him. Eddie's whole arc and issue stem from the toxic masculinity that he needed to unlearn which makes him the king of repression. You know who caused a silly goofy man (Eddie at his core is very silly and is forced to be serious) to repress? His parents who are now somehow better options to deal with Chris's complicated emotions?

They think Chris loves the water, but they don't know the enormous work Eddie did to help Chris get over the tsunami. Chris breaks down during COVID because he misses Carla and his friends which dredges up his abandonment issues? They don't know that it was Buck who supported him through it and how Eddie adjusted his relationship with Ana to make him more comfortable. They don't know that Eddie quit the job he loved so Chris wouldn't be scared of losing him. They don't know how scared Chris was when Eddie got shot. We often focus on how Buck broke down and how Chris hugs him but Chris is breaking down with him together.

THE WILL (DISREGARDING ROMANCE)

Eddie's not stupid. He didn't put Buck instead of his parents in his will out of spite. Because really when it comes down to it, Buck was the best option for the will in canon. In the very beginning, we were told Tia Pepa and Abuela can't take care of Chris full time (thus, Carla). But Carla is paid for her job, she won't be on the will. Eddie has no other family in LA and we don't know how his situation is with his sisters. However, considering canon implies then to be younger (thus his parentification), Eddie would consider them too young (subjective) to raise his son. None of the 118 is as involved with Chris as Buck is. In fact, a big reason is the fact that is that Buck allows the Diaz boys a safe space which Eddie was not allowed to have growing up.

Buck has respected Chris's autonomy (admires it even- canon from s2), supports and listens to him without making him feel bad, expresses his emotions and finds ways to support him (like finding equine therapy, accessible skateboard) and respects his decision even if he doesn't like it (going to Texas). And I'm not saying because of Buddie or anything. Even if they remain platonic co-parents (co-parenting as described by Oliver Stark and Ryan Guzman), they serve as parallels to things Eddie wouldn't have gotten from his parents if he was in Chris's position.

Eddie was forced to manage his mother's emotions while his father was absent. Chris has a dead/absent mother but never has he had to manage Eddie's emotions. When Eddie has a mental breakdown, he calls Buck and is told to focus on his own healing (equine therapy). Time and time again, Eddie has said that his problems are not on Chris to help.

When Chris wakes up crying from a nightmare about the tsunami, Eddie gets him help and never criticizes him. What do you think happened when Eddie would wake up from his own nightmares after being discharged from the army? He was living with his parents, Shanon and baby Chris, there's no way his parents didn't know about it. We have proof in canon that Eddie never received any help and Shannon was at the end of her rope until she abandoned him. All his parents did was fight him for custody and applaud him for almost dying (aka silver star).

POSSIBLE FIX

One way to maybe fix this is by working with the theme of Eddie reclaiming his agency. If he goes to Texas to fight for his son, to have that communication, group therapy even, letting Chris know he is working on making himself better and that Chris needs to confront his issues and how running away and not feeling with grief is how the Kim situation happened in the first place.

Or, I understand that Gavin McHugh might want to take a break and return to the show except a few scenes. We can give him the Denny or May Grant treatment, where they are there but we don't see them anymore, just referenced. Like have a video call saying he wants to come back, show Eddie ecstatic and ready to hug someone at the airport, fade to black, and next time we can have Eddie on cloud nine but also scared of losing Chris again.

TLDR; It's unfair to punish Eddie when every main character's terrible parent has been forgiven and reinforces the idea that he isn't allowed to have joy, forgiveness and identity outside of Chris. Keeping Chris with his parents implies they are a better choice when they're the reason Eddie has these issues. There are better ways to handle the situation while minimizing Gavin's screen time.

[saintsenara]

For unhinged and deranged ships: Snape/Bellatrix.

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

i adore these two haters, and not just in a "toxic situationship which leaves dozens dead" way.

because - as the most delusional snapemort defender in history, who would also defend bellamort with my life - i think it's inherently plausible that snape spends his period as a death eater during the first war feeling profoundly jealous of bellatrix.

after all, she's the dark lord's favourite - and voldemort isn't exactly shy about this being known [she wouldn't run around yapping about he "calls me his most loyal, his most faithful" if she had even the slightest feeling that voldemort would murder her for leaking his pillow talk] - which means that, if you go in for the idea that he's sleeping with her, i think you can argue that he also permits her some degree of public physical affection. i don't think they're holding hands during acts of terrorism, or anything like that, but i do think that bellatrix is summoned away from group settings to join voldemort, everyone knows what they're about to get up to, and the dark lord doesn't care.

snape - in contrast - is kept as a pretty clandestine part of voldemort's operation. karkaroff can't think of anything specific to credibly accuse him of, sirius isn't fully convinced he could have been a death eater, and so on.

and this makes sense - it's clear that snape gets taken on by voldemort in a back-of-house role [to be a spy he can eventually place at hogwarts, and very probably originally to brew for him], and is peripheral to the more public-facing, combat side of voldemort's terror. which means that any time he spends with the dark lord is probably one-on-one - and any affection he receives from voldemort during these sessions [and look, i ship it...] is similarly private.

but it's also clear in canon that this order only continues for a few months after bellatrix gets out of azkaban, before things start to shift and she finds herself having to be the jealous one.

from the start of half-blood prince onwards, snape usurps bellatrix in voldemort's public favour [no matter what he's like with either in private]. and we know that she's not thrilled about this - not least because she's correctly worked out that snape's not trustworthy and voldemort's only response is to tell her to wind her neck in.

and we also know that snape fucking loves how annoyed she is - he's having the time of his life roasting her when she cockblocks narcissa by stomping around his front room [the line about "endless reminiscences of how unpleasant azkaban is"... a third-degree burn, i fear] - and that all of snape's best pairings feature that "we literally cannot stop hurling insults at each other, i will not rest until i've told them this next zinger, i am incapable of letting anything go" dynamic.

textbook enemies-to-enemies-who-fuck.

where this turns into enemies-to-lovers... is that both snape and bellatrix are clearly profoundly lonely people. and not only that, but profoundly lonely in strikingly similar ways - above all in that they're in love with someone who doesn't want them in the way they'd like to be wanted. i don't think bellatrix loses anything of her character - her cruelty, her temper, her resilience - if we also imagine her as a bit of a hopeless romantic [her joy at voldemort complimenting her - "no higher pleasure... that means a great deal, bellatrix, coming from you" - which vanishes when he turns it into an insult is but one example] who would jump at the chance to be mrs riddle. snape's unrequited love is well known.

neither of them seem to have friendships in which they're the priority - snape is close to lucius malfoy, but the relationship is nonetheless transactional; bellatrix clearly adores her sister, but she's secondary in narcissa's concerns to her husband and son. they live their lives in service to men who regard it as their duty to sacrifice themselves for their cause - snape with dumbledore, who may like him, but who also thinks of him primarily as a tool to bring about voldemort's defeat; bellatrix with voldemort, who considers her to have done the bare minimum in terms of loyalty to him by enduring fourteen years in azkaban [even though he also thinks this places her above all her fellow death eaters, who didn't even do that]. they both have experience of imprisonment - snape metaphorically, trapped in the school he doesn't seem to have particularly enjoyed and the childhood home he thought he'd escaped; bellatrix literally. they're both voldemort's exceptions in terms of the demographics of the death eaters - snape on account of his social class; bellatrix on account of her gender - which means that they depend entirely on maintaining the dark lord's goodwill and are peripheral to the elite male social group which makes up the rest of the inner circle.

and these similarities mean that they have a pretty high chance of being able to understand each other, comfort each other, and help each other move beyond their isolation...

until voldemort gets jealous, that is.

[eliotquillon]

We know Chase becomes a dumb whore after Cameron leaves, but how do you think Cameron is doing emotionally for the first year after the divorce?

short answer: NOT GOOD!

long answer: while i think it’s very apparent to the viewer that chase and cameron’s relationship, while maybe not inherently doomed, had some serious unaddressed problems that meant that they were on the track for some kind of breakup (permanent or temporary) regardless of dibala, from both of their POVs this is kind of coming out of nowhere. and for cameron especially, it’s a big deal that the divorce happens—after all, her first marriage literally ended with her husband’s death. she does not take marriage lightly. she wanted to wait until after she stopped working for house/became an established senior doctor in her own right to start looking for another long term partner because she wanted to take it seriously, and when she originally said that there was no end to the fellowship in sight; cameron has always liked to get things her own way, but she was especially not willing to settle or compromise when it came to her next husband. for all that she hedges and hesitates about commitment with chase + has the sperm as her get out of jail card, once she committed to that relationship—to marriage, in particular—i don’t think for a second she ever envisioned backing down from it. i think the divorce absolutely blindsided her.

and yes, cameron was the one who left—but chase was supposed to come with her to chicago. he was supposed to let her ‘redeem’ him from house’s influence and be his emotional caretaker and it didn’t happen. i think cameron absolutely left new jersey thinking, on some level, that chase was going to change his mind and end up following her. because while it’d be toxic and they’d grow to resent each other, if chase followed cameron to chicago they absolutely would have stayed together for the next 20+ years (and probably babytrapped each other in the process). and i can’t blame her for thinking that—this is chase, he of no spine and ‘it’s tuesday, i like you’; so much of his previous behaviour suggests that this is exactly what he would do. but he doesn’t follow her, obviously. and i think while she outwardly owns the fact that she left him and that it was the right decision, there’s probably a not-insignificant part of her that secretly sees it the other way round—that he left her, by being convinced by house to stay and not coming with her. i think she’s probably a lot more hurt about that than she lets on. and while i think there are a LOT of reasons as to why cameron goes out of her way to fly back to princeton and personally make sure chase signs the divorce papers only two or three months after they separate (this is a FAST timeline for a divorce by the way, i’ve said this before but cam and chase going straight for divorce with no hesitations or drawing-out is pretty unusual), i’m willing to bet that at least one of them was that she wanted to give him one last chance to change his mind. she was secretly hoping that maybe the reason he was delaying the signing was because he wanted her back and she showed up to give him the chance to beg her for forgiveness. but obviously that isn’t what happened at all lol.

post divorce, i think she does essentially the opposite of what chase does—instead of having a whore phase, she immediately starts dating For Marriage. a do-over of the do-over, to put it crudely. it fits with her flash forward future in s8 with a baby and new husband—that’s a relatively fast turnaround even with the timeskip between s7 and 8 and accounting for the fact that she’s probably being mindful of her biological clock. even if you don’t like chase and cameron together, you have to admit that cameron was so much happier when she was with him than she was before they got together; this obviously wasn’t JUST down to chase, but when things were good they were good. i think she gets to chicago, determined to have a new fresh start, and is very, very lonely, and tries to fill that hole by moving on as soon as she can. new job, new apartment, new friends, new man. chase got breakup hair and she got a breakup LIFE. it’s not that i think cameron regrets the divorce or her decision to leave princeton—she’s probably do the exact same thing if given the choice again—but moreso that i think she just wants someone else to tell her in that first year that she did the right thing, that she was in the right, that there was no coming back for chase or for their relationship. and nobody ever does tell her that. so it’s easier for her to try and move on as fast as possible and stay on cordial but distant terms with chase and act like the whole thing was a blip. that’s not how she feels about it at all, but i think that’s probably how she tries to present herself. in time this does become more genuine, but that first year? yeah, it’s ROUGH.

all this said: i think she probably does have an easier go of it than chase. unlike him, she’s not surrounded by people who knew them as a couple, people they both worked with for years who went to their wedding. she’s not living in their old apartment. there’s nobody in chicago who knows chase, who knows house by anything other than reputation. she still has both of her parents, and seems to have a decent enough relationship with them and her brother for it not to warrant much detail (unlike foreman or chase). it’s easier for her to move on this way, which i guess is exactly why cameron wanted to move to chicago in the first place.

[1moreff-creator]

Do you have any Teruvid headcanons??? If so... *Grabby hands* 🥺👉👈

Hey! Man, Teruvid, huh? Well, I have to be honest and say I don’t know if I fully grasp what the dynamic would be like, but I’ll see what I can do! Non-despair AU as always, just to keep consistency with my other ship posts :v Or, perhaps a better term would be "non-killing game AU"; it's hard to imagine Teruvid without despair lmao.

CW: Toxic relationship, gaslighting.

How this relationship would start is hard to imagine, really. Especially outside the stress of the killing game. Teruko never believed David’s cheery persona was real, so she didn’t like the guy from the start.

However, outside of the killing game, David wouldn’t be actively trying to kill anyone, and Xander and Teruko would probably still be friends, so it actually works out better than expected. Presumably, the way this works outside the killing game is that David eventually realizes Teruko doesn’t believe his façade and chooses to start dropping it around her, eventually enjoying her company just because he doesn’t have to keep up a tiring act. Teruko doesn’t like him at first, so I imagine it would be David confessing. Something like, uh...

David: We both know no one will ever love us the way we are. And we won’t love each other either, and this is going to end horribly.  Teruko: Then why the hell are you even asking? David: It’s for your benefit, you know. More than anyone else, you must be well aware your luck will ruin any relationship you ever have. Teruko: … David (fake smiling, stars in eyes): But most of them will try to be optimistic, won’t they? Thinking themselves above your luck, wishing that if they just try hard enough, this time, it will work out. How hopeful~. Teruko: … And? David (smirking): And that just means it will hurt them all the worse when it all comes crashing down. And you'll feel even more miserable after all's said and done than you did in the first place. That wouldn't happen with me. Not that I'll let you, but you wouldn't care if you hurt me anyways.

Yeah I can’t see this relationship being healthy in any way lmao.

Like, they hate each other even together, that’s the Vision of Teruvid shippers right? They would both be miserable the entire time it’s happening, since they both reinforce the worst and most damaging views the other holds. If the Ultimate Inspirational Speaker can’t even inspire himself to think things can get better, then Teruko has no reason to believe they will. And if Teruko never tries to change despite hating her life, then that confirms to David that people can’t change. The relationship is held together by the illusory comfort of confirmation bias; neither has to challenge their worldviews like they would in a relationship that genuinely made them happy, so they feel at peace in their shared misery.

Speaking of, the most common intimate interaction is venting to each other about whatever bullshit they got going on, be it unfortunate events or Speaker business annoyance. Now, neither is particularly good at giving comfort, but they’re also both bad at receiving it (they don’t understand the concept that people can feel genuine affection towards them, of course), so they settle on just… not comforting each other. Just a simple “sucks” after a long rant, or even laughing at each other’s misery, but again, illusory comfort in being able to vent out their issues without having someone actually worry and care for them, because they don’t know how to handle that.

Other than that, lots of just cuddling while doing random shit. They’re both horrendously touch starved, so they never stay physically apart if possible.

That said, though, they’re not very public with their relationship. Obviously; if Teruko never seemed to like David, then they’re suddenly together, that’s gonna raise a few eyebrows. And David still tries to keep up the Speaker persona outside his one on one interactions with Teruko, a persona that Teruko dislikes due to its disingenuity, so they never really hang out in the presence of others.

Their closest friends know, except none of them actually realize that David’s persona is a lie. They think they’re keeping it quiet not to attract attention to Teruko, given David is a public figure and all. Because of that, they actually think they’re good for each other, thinking that David’s optimism and Teruko’s pessimism balance out to be pretty functional. This fundamental misunderstanding of their relationship makes David and Teruko both feel even more alienated from their friends, which feeds into the codependency. They need each other, because they’re the only ones that get it.

Indeed, this is a serious “they would make each other so much worse” situation, I can’t see Teruvid in any other way. Unless they both get some serious therapy, and even then, the way I’ve described the relationship, it would fall apart if either of them were any more stable. So, uh, yeah.

I kinda struggle to come up with much more than this for these two, so I hope that was okay! Thanks for the ask!

[sufferu]

Bravo to you for choosing not to let Rem be forgiven so easily. Honestly I've never been a big fan of Rem as a character, sometimes her endless pandering and obsession with subaru just really annoys me instead, and I've never understood people looking at her doing all that and then saying “Wow that's so hot I'm so jealous of Subaru!”

As for the ones who want her deeds to be easily forgiven by everyone, my personal guess is that they all only care about her body and the unheathy way she forces herself to act like the perfect waifu just for Subaru's sake, but subconsciously they can't stand the shit she did either, so they secretly want their favorite waifu to be a perfect being without flaws. But to me, isn't it essential to love a character and accept their flaws as well? They did wrong things, but there's no doubt THEY did them anyway, and that is part of what makes them who they are. Another thing is that forgiveness has to be earned, we're not cruel, coldhearted, or closeminded for not forgiving someone who hurts us. So I too agree with that anon who thinks WHDAA cast need to to beat some sense into Subaru on way too forgiving and tolerating the people who have hurt/killed him.

But now that you've decided to do that, beware of those rabid Rem stans coming after you and I'm worried that their harassment goes overboard and affects your personal life

I will say — I believe that Rem and Subaru’s canon dynamic is one of the most intriguing and multifaceted dynamics in the entire series. Their parallels regarding their insecurities and family members, their mutually codependent tendencies, the way they run the risk of becoming each other’s perfect enablers, the genuine sense of love and affection that runs parallel to the unintentional toxicity fostered within their relationship — it’s all really interesting stuff. In fact, exploring their dynamic through the lens of outsiders (including amnesiac!Rem) finally getting to peer under the hood is one of the main reasons I wanted to write a react fic at all.

As for why people like her — honestly, I think it’s kinda easy to guess? She’s a very cutely designed anime girl, she’s incredibly well-voiced, her insecurities are genuinely relatable, she’s got a super awesome oni power-up transformation, her morning star lends itself to some of the best choreographed action scenes in the series (or at least Season 1), she appeals to the whole “submissive maid” aesthetic that she knows Subaru finds attractive (and that also appeals to the target demographic of Re:Zero specifically, let’s be real here) — and frankly, there are so many scenes in anime where characters we’re supposed to like do fucked up shit that it’s not difficult to just…gloss over the whole “tortured the mc for several hours” part of her character. It’s understandable, especially if you’re not an insane person who spends all their time hyperanalyzing the anime they’re a fan of like I am. I don’t think it’s really that far of a leap for her to develop such a massive following, she was basically designed to be as popular an anime waifu as physically possible.

But then, that clash can become…a little uncomfortable if you’re writing a story where “Rem tortures Subaru” is a major plotpoint, and if you don’t want to reevaluate their entire relationship, it makes sense to find a way to just — get the characters to move along, much like a lot of the irl audience does.

But I really like toxic characters and angst and complicated relationships and all that fun stuff, so that’s what I’m gonna focus on. —Also Rem is WORSE in the LN. Girl starts fantasizing about whisking Subaru away while he’s practically comatose from shock (second Arc 3 loop) and then also makes a comment like “even if he had tried to assault her in her sleep, she knew she never would have resisted” like GIRL??? The idea of not tapping that insane well of potential drama is ludicrous to me lmaoo— especially because I really don’t care about maintaining the status quo ;)

(Also frankly, anyone who would start seriously harassing me over whether or not I share their opinion about a fucking anime girl is too pathetic for me to care about. I honestly don’t think I’ll get that big of a response — especially not on Tumblr “Gay Website” Dot Com — but even if I do…I don’t care, lmao.)

[breadlover64]

BINGQIU VS LIUSHEN/ANY OTHER SHIP WITH SQQ PART 1

BEWARE I HAVENT READ SVSSS IN A WHILE AND I MIGHT’VE MISSED SOME STUFF! Feel free to correct and give your opinions about this.

Theres gonna be two parts to this bc tumblr can’t take all my writing sooooo 😛

In the SVSSS fandom, I’ve noticed that compared to other mxtx’s novels, the mc gets shipped with half of the cast more often and is more widely accepted in the fandom compared to the tgcf and mdzs fandoms (if you ship Hualian or Wangxian with anyone, it will get you death threats, istg 😓). However, with Shen Qingqiu, while of course he gets shipped with his love interests, another really popular one is him with Liu Qingge and many other characters in the novel. I do think this also has to do with the fact that the fandom is more chill than the other two fandoms. Shen Qingqiu in general is just VERY shippable. But why? Why do some people like liushen more than bingqiu? Obviously, I know this is simply a preference, but why do people prefer it more than the canon couple? Well, I have some speculations. First, while I love Bingqiu, I can admit that their relationship is not for everyone; even for me, they’re my least favorite main couple of the three (it's just my opinion, DONT ATTACK ME🙏) because their dynamic can be seen as somewhat toxic. Luo Binghe is very obsessive and kind of yandare like in the novel, and yes, he does have character development and regrets his actions and never really wanted to hurt Shen Qingqiu. I personally don’t feel like we see as much of this development until the very end. At least for me, I feel like we should’ve spent more time with a changed Luo Binghe, and I KNOW he was influenced by Xi Mo. I still didn’t feel completely satisfied with the Luo Binghe arc. I do think we see more of his development in the extras, which is what made me like Bingqiu a lot more, but I just wish we could’ve seen this in the main story instead of optional extras because I think the extras really show Luo Binghe’s growth and his love for Shen Qingqiu in a healthier way. I am aware this boy is very mentally ill. While I’m not a writer, as a reader, I think mxtx could’ve done more for him because he can end up more dislikable for some people and just less appealing of a love interest. I personally LOVE Luo Binghe and how chaotic he is, but again, that is not for everyone, so I can definitely see why some people don’t like him as much. With Shen Qingqiu, this is a bit different. I felt that by the end of the novel he had massive progress and huge development for his character; even if he still has his flaws, you can really tell he has changed and grown throughout the story, but he’s still himself if that makes sense. I felt wayyy more satisfied with his arc than Luo Binghe's; however, I will say that Shen Qingqiu has this sort of shame. While I wouldn’t necessarily call it internalized homophobia, he does have this sort of stigma towards gay people and him being gay himself. And while it can be funny, if you really think about it, even by the end of the novel and in the extras he still has this shame of sleeping with Binghe and showing basic affection, but I won’t really criticize this much because he does improve in this a lot by the extras. By that point, it really feels more like shyness than the shame he felt at the beginning when he first discovered Luo Binghe's feelings. So I will argue that Shen Qingqiu arc is pretty well done and concluded by the end of the book; at least to me, it really did feel like he changed. Okay, so the second reason is because Bingqiu got together when they were both still ‘not at their best’. What do I mean by this? Well in tgcf Xie lian had to endure a lot of torture and experience several traumatic situations and almost released face disease and killed a bunch of people with it. He was clearly very mentally unwell! And for Hua Cheng, he also went through a lot of trauma with his mom dying when he was young and the abuse he went through from his father and the kids who made fun of him to the point where he wanted to end his life, and then later he became a ghost with his parasocial attachment to a god. We see these characters at their worst, but when they get together, they are already 800+ years old and have lived a long life and matured and learned from their experiences.

[robotmechagirl]

A text conversation with my parental figures:

Me: “Got a bread machine at a thrift store with my girlfriend 😌

Found myself a love for making bread

It brings me back to watchin' you bake bread and make pizza dough. I remember you would freeze the dough to have an easier time makin' meals later.

It's such a vibe and it makes me feel happy because I can express my care for other people with fresh baked bread now.”

Aunt: “That's great [DEADNAME]. It's really good to know you have some good memories”

Me:

-Image depicted is a drinking glass-

“"Oh look! Sand!"

It's what you sound like right now :/“

Aunt/Uncle:

“I don't get it”

Me:

“Maybe pictures don't show for you via text.

Sent an image of a glass, the type you would hold drinks in, such as water.

Calling me by "son" and my dead name is like calling this glass sand. :/“

Aunt/Uncle:

“[DEADNAME] you didn't die. You have always been [DEADNAME]. You can't make me believe in a fairytale. Something you made up in your brain.

If you told me I have to start calling you Andre and Start looking at you and treating you as such, because you are an 8 foot tall giant I couldn't do that either. I refuse to get down on the floor and look up to you like you are a giant. You are no more an 8 foot giant than you are a girl. I cannot see you that way. I cannot treat you that way. I don't know how far you are planning on going down this rabbit hole. But you better be damn sure you have done all the research. Once things get cut off there is no going back! I raised 6 boys and 1 girl.”

Me:

“The fairytale is thinking that I'm this image you've built for me based on your own misconceptions about the world. 😩

There's a butt load of medical research, literature, and history that you could read to understand the phenomena that is the existence and validity of transgender people. It would benefit you to learn it because ya clearly don't have an inkling about the subject given your piss poor analogies.

But I can't expect y'all to read it because y'all have told me ya can't even be bothered to read your own holy book. The hypocrisy at tellin' me to reread it is wild to me.

Y'all are so trapped by your ignorance ya can't even see I'm thriving over here and how much good it's done for my mental, emotional, and physical health.

I wanted very much to have a healthy relationship with my parental figures, to let y'all be part of my life, but y'all are proving to be toxic as fuck. Quite frankly I don't need it and am content to disconnect to leave ya to your own business. This grown ass woman has her own life to live ✌️🕊️”

Aunt/Uncle:

“We have read the Bible. And even your "research" isn't in the Bible. We will always love you [DEADNAME]. We just don't agree with you. You are the only one disconnecting from us because we don't agree.

And my analogy isn't any more piss poor than yours”

Me:

“"I know you are, but what am I?"

Is what you sound like

And nah, you don't get to be hateful and say that you love me. It doesn't matter your intentions, you're acting shitty. I'm disconnecting because you're acting shitty towards me and I have way too much self respect to accept this treatment.”

Aunt/Uncle:

“I am not being shitty to you. I am allowed to disagree with you. It is a free country. We do love you whether you believe it or not”

Me:

“You're not acting like it 😩

I'm okay with you believing differently. What I'm not okay with is the shitty behavior stemming from those beliefs and I reserve the right to disassociate from the toxicity.

I'm not gonna pretend to be someone or something I'm not just because you can't unpack your own biases.

If y'all want to still be a part of my life you're gonna have to meet me where I'm at with this. Otherwise, señora”

Aunt/Uncle:

“We will pray for you [DEADNAME]. We love you”

Me:

“Lies and pettiness

I don't need your prayers

Focus them on yourselves”

Aunt/Uncle:

“Good bye”

Me:

“Bye”

Below is the image from earlier: