#because if I have it my way I won't do anything. ever.

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 I WISH I WAS YOUR GIRL

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: you don't know why dazai has suddenly become so standoffish with you the last week—there's something that everyone isn't telling you, but you can't even bring yourself to make that your biggest concern. you're just so at your limits with the back and forth with him that you can't concentrate on anything else. mishima is hosting a ball is this evening and you think that this is it: if things are going to happen between the two of you, it'll be tonight or it'll be never. you can't wait forever on someone who's just going to string you along the rest of his life. you won't.

(wordcount: 6.3k; fem!reader, sfw but a bit of tension, angsty)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: hihihihiiiiiii guys ^.^ happy friday. we've gotta angsty fic for tonight. i fear this one does not end happily but TRUST the universe does <33 but angst is necessary to move the plot forward. the price you pay for a happy ending is an angsty path there. specially dedicated to my beloved sophie who hates angst <33 happy birthday luvr

You are severely unhappy.

You finished getting dressed almost an hour ago, but you still haven’t left your room. You’re sitting at your vanity staring at yourself—you’ve changed your jewelry three times already, and you’re about to change it a fourth. It’s not that you’re not satisfied with how you look, it’s more that you’re just frustrated and fidgety.

More than that, you’re upset. Dazai hasn’t spoken to you in a week, and you don’t even know why. It has something to do with the incident that happened a week ago with the child called Kyusaku, but you’re not sure what because you don’t know what was real and what was concocted by the child’s ability after you were affected by it. 

As much as Dazai likes to pretend to be aloof and unbothered, he’s easily worked up by small things, and he’s been upset with you before, but never like this. He’ll usually sulk where he knows you’ll see him and wait for you to ask him what’s wrong so he can use the opportunity to guilt you into watching a shitty movie or going out to buy him snacks. 

But this? Radio silence. He came up to your apartment once when you weren’t here to do his laundry and was gone before you got back. You don’t even know where he’s been staying, because you went looking for him at the shipping container and he wasn’t there. You don’t know what happened. You guys were good, more than good—you really thought that maybe the two of you were making progress past this awkward more than friends, not lovers stage, but now it’s back to square one. Worse than square one, because at least at square one, he was still talking to you.

A low whistle comes from the entrance to your room and you raise your eyebrows as you look up in the mirror, catching sight of Chuuya leaning against the doorframe, head tilted to the side as he observes you. He’s already dressed up—out of his normal outfit and in a sleek black suit instead, he looks different without his hat, but you don’t even have it in you to make a teasing comment about it. You can’t help the disappointment that clogs your throat at the sight of him: you’d still been holding out hope that Dazai would show up. 

“I forgot how nice you cleaned up,” Chuuya murmurs. “It’s been a minute since we attended an event together.”

You turn in your seat to face him, eyes roving over his form once before you say, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without your hat. I almost thought you might be balding beneath it.”

Chuuya instantly rolls his eyes as he pushes himself off the door frame to make his way over to you. You give him a simpering smile as you look up at him, but you can tell it doesn’t reach your eyes from the way he frowns at you. He reaches out to straighten the necklace you’re wearing and then holds a gloved hand out to help you up, ever the gentlemen.

Even though it’s unnecessary, you still take it and sigh as you rise to your feet, smoothing out your dress once you’re upright. You look up at him and ask, “I take it you’re the one escorting me tonight.”

“Don’t sound too pleased,” Chuuya replies dryly, holding out his arm for you. You sigh as you hold his bicep loosely, making your way to the elevator. “He still hasn’t talked to you?”

“Not once,” you answer bitterly. “I thought for sure he would get over whatever his problem is to be my escort tonight, but I guess not. I don’t even know what happened, Chuuya. I feel like people just aren’t telling me something.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, your gaze is cutting to the side to observe Chuuya’s reaction. He grimaces instantly and averts his gaze, and you take in a deep breath, realizing you hit it right on the nail. What the hell are they hiding from you? You know now isn’t the time to get into it, but you make a note in the back of your head to do some snooping as to what really happened during the incident last week. 

“Interesting,” you say, just to let Chuuya know that he needs to work on his poker face. He catches the implication and sends you a scowl, but you only raise your eyebrows at him with a small smile, waiting for the elevator to come up to your apartment. “He’s not coming tonight at all then?”

“No, he’s coming,” Chuuya corrects absently and the smile on your face freezes.

“Is that so?” you ask tightly. “Who is he attending with then?”

Chuuya gives you a long, knowing look as the elevator gets to your floor, holding it open and waiting for you to step in before joining you. You’re tense as you wait for his answer, and you know he’s getting back for the balding comment with how long he’s taking to give you it.

“No one,” he finally says, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Chuuya barks out a laugh. “Jesus, you’re so embarrassing—get yourself together. Who the fuck would actually be his date? No one wants to get within ten feet of him.”

You give Chuuya a withering look and then reply primly, “I would.”

“The entire Mafia knows that,” Chuuya says dryly, making your face hot. “You make me sick.”

“Likewise,” you scoff and pointedly look away from him. After a few seconds pass, you ask, “Are you sure he’s not bringing anyone?” 

Chuuya groans. “What would it even change if he does?” he asks, which does not settle your nerves at all. “You’re just going to work yourself up thinking about it.”

“It changes whether or not I’m going to have Akutagawa Ryuunosuke on standby to eliminate a potential threat to Dazai’s life,” you say with a sweet smile. “Assassins come in many forms, but most frequently in dates at big events. We shouldn’t take that risk with our most valuable executive, naturally.”

Chuuya’s jaw drops as he fully turns to look at you. “Sometimes, I wonder why you like that fucked up bastard so much, and it’s only very rarely that I’m reminded that you’re just as evil as he is.”

“I’m kidding,” you complain, waving him off. Although, now that the thought is in your head, it’s becoming increasingly more appealing. “I think.”

The elevator doors slide back open and Chuuya holds his arm out for you again. You take it, lifting your hand to wave at Hinata, an older man who's been working with the Port Mafia since longer than you’ve been alive. He ran with Hirotsu in the Black Lizards before he was hurt on a mission and put on desk duty—you stole him from Mori when you came back from Kyoto. On paper, he’s just your doorman, but he’s helped you a lot with mission planning the past year and a half; you honestly contribute half of your success to his experience.

“Good luck tonight, hime, Nakahara-san,” Hinata says as the two of you make your way out of the building.

You let out an exaggerated sigh and toss your head to the side to look back at him with a smile. “Hinata-san, you should come and be my date instead of this bum.”

“Why am I always catching strays from you?” Chuuya scowls, but you ignore him as you flutter your eyelashes at Hinata, who only laughs at you.

“I’m far too old for that to work on me, hime,” Hinata replies. “I’ll have the scout reports from Sapporo ready by the time you get back tonight.”

“My hero,” you sing. “Thank you.”

You wave at him one last time before leaving the building with Chuuya. As soon as you’re out of sight, your smile drops and Chuuya gives you a concerned look, stopping before the two of you can get in the car so he can turn to look at you head on.

“Do you think he’ll show up with someone to spite me?” you ask quietly. 

You know Dazai—he doesn’t like feeling wounded, so when he does, he lashes out tenfold. He gets cruel and vicious, and because he’s Dazai, he knows exactly what to do to make people hurt more than he does. You don’t know what you did to upset him, but it has you on edge now because it will hurt if he shows up with someone else, knowing that you were waiting for him back at your apartment.

Chuuya says your name quietly, and because it’s not an immediate ‘no’, you know that he knows that Dazai might very well stoop that low to hurt you. You swallow thickly and look away—it’s fine. You’ll act unbothered, you have an appearance to keep up and that’s more important than anything. And anyway, it’ll hurt him even more when he doesn’t get the reaction he wants from you.

“Hey, look,” Chuuya says, forcing your attention back on him. “Dazai’s being a fucking dick, alright? But what else is new? You look beautiful—make him regret that you’re not coming in on his arm, yeah?” 

You smile softly and look away before saying, “It’s unnerving when you’re sweet.”

You don’t have to look at Chuuya to know he’s rolling his eyes at you. You hear him open the car door for you and sigh as you look back over to him.

“C’mon,” he says. “Let’s go.”

———

As always, your entrance is something to marvel over. It never fails to be the highlight of the night, and it’s only more of a spectacle when you enter on the arm of Nakahara Chuuya. 

Lingering looks in your direction, wary stares in his—you’re grateful that he came to escort you, because if you’d come alone, you would’ve swarmed with suitors as soon as you got down the steps. Chuuya is not quite as much of a deterrent as Dazai would’ve been, if only because Chuuya won’t actually kill someone in the middle of Mishima’s ball and nobody can ever be sure of what Dazai is capable of, but his presence and reputation will keep unwanted annoyances away for most of the night at least. 

By the end of the night, they’ll get more desperate for a conversation, and only Dazai and Mori himself are capable of keeping them away from you at that point, unless Chuuya steps up his game, of course, but he has as much of an appearance to keep up as you do. You’re not looking forward to it—your eyes keep darting up to the ticking clock, knowing each passing second draws closer to suffering. 

You didn’t even want to come tonight. You weren’t going to come, you’d gone to quite the lengths trying to fake being sick, and you thought you succeeded until Mori messaged you this morning telling you that you could either come to the event or go deal with Shikibu Murasaki’s little stunt in Sapporo that has your biggest weapon supplier backing out on your next shipment. Since he knew very well you didn’t want to deal with that, the only option was to come to the ball—someone must’ve ratted you out to him, but you don’t know who. You almost think it must’ve been Chuuya, because Dazai hasn’t spoken to you in over a week.

You still haven’t seen him, which you suppose is a good thing because if he was going to shove in your face that he came here with someone else, then he would’ve done it by now. You aren’t even sure if he’s here; you’ve tried to keep an eye out for him, positioning yourself in a way that your gaze can always stray to the edges of the room in hopes of catching sight of him, but you haven’t seen him at all in the three hours that you’ve been here.

You’re standing with Chuuya and two of Mishima’s daughters now. Noriko keeps trying to shift closer to you, lashes fluttering and lips curled up into a soft smile. Usually, you would entertain the girl—she’s pretty, and at the very least, makes for entertaining conversation, which is more than you can say for the rest of the Sun and Steel upper echelon, but you’re so occupied with Dazai that she can hardly hold your attention for more than a few seconds.

“I haven’t seen him at all tonight,” you say quietly when Mishima himself comes over to your small group, a stern expression on his face as he beckons his daughters over before giving both you and Chuuya an apologetic look. “Have you?” 

“No,” Chuuya says, taking a sip of his champagne as he leans against the wall. “I know he said he was coming though.”

Your expression twists in annoyance as you take in a deep breath. Your glass is empty, and usually, there are people circling to keep them full—your old mentor always used to warn you not to fall for the trap. The hosts of events always like to liquor up the attendees; drunker you are, the looser your lips, and you’re usually quite careful to keep it to one drink and never finish your second.

Tonight, you are on your fifth. Dangerous work, because you’re still going to have to entertain people when they inevitably start coming up to you—which is any minute now, you can feel the lingering stares and you can see how people are creeping closer. But you’re just so bothered by everything with Dazai that every time you finish a glass, you’re seeking out the next to try to numb your nerves.

“You know something,” you accuse quietly, giving Chuuya a cold side-eye. He stiffens, but neither confirms nor denies, which is a confirmation in itself. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“I can’t,” Chuuya says tightly, and you raise your eyebrows because you expected him to say ‘it’s not for me to say’ like he usually does when he feels like you should hear something from someone else. He can’t, does that mean… “I just…”

“You can’t because you’ve been ordered not to,” you realize, face shifting in confusion. “Mori ordered you not to. What happened during the incident last week, Chuuya?” 

The expression that crosses Chuuya’s face is haunted, and it makes your mouth dry, because what the hell happened and why is no one telling you the truth? You don’t even get the chance to badger him about it, because Noriko and Michiko are coming back over, both of them looking incredibly displeased by whatever their father said.

“He’s so annoying,” Noriko complains, immediately clinging to your arm and resting her head against your bicep dramatically. “You two are so lucky that you don’t have parents to helicopter you like he does.”

You and Chuuya immediately exchange a look at her words, and even Michiko cringes a little, but you otherwise don’t react beyond just trying to not roll your eyes. These girls are so out of touch with reality that it’s almost concerning, but they, more than anyone else at this event, have loose lips that you like to take advantage of.

“No,” you sigh lightly, “I only have Mori. Somehow, I feel that’s worse.”

Noriko giggles like you’ve said the funniest thing in the world, and you miss Dazai desperately. At least him being here would have Mishima’s daughters acting a little more subdued, would maybe even chase them off. You don’t like how they act around him because you know it used to bother him, but you’re not gonna complain when you could be benefiting from it if he wasn’t being an ass.

She starts to say something else, but before she can, Chuuya’s eyes shoot open as he looks at something behind you. You instantly straighten, turning your head to follow his gaze and your breath catches when it lands on just who you thought would draw that reaction from Chuuya.

Dazai.

He’s finally made his appearance, and you can’t draw your eyes away from him. He never gets dressed up for these events like you and Chuuya do, so he’s still wearing that same black three-piece suit he wears every day, just without the dark trench coat he usually wears over it. He’s leaning against the far wall, arms crossed over his chest and a cold expression on his face as he stares in your direction. He doesn’t meet your gaze, but he does stare at where Noriko is clinging to your arm, lip twitching in irritation; Noriko seems to notice too from the way she lets go of your arm and tries to casually shift away from you, an annoyed look on her face as she does.

You hear her let out a noise of disgust, side-eyeing in Dazai’s direction, and you raise your eyebrows at her pointedly. You know that it was directed toward Dazai’s sudden appearance, but you’re not about to sit here and let that slide, so you turn a cool look onto her in response. Noriko instantly looks down to the ground, an ashamed look crossing her face—not for the disparaging attitude toward Dazai, but for being obvious enough for you to notice it.

You feel a bit more tense now as you force your attention off of Dazai back to Chuuya, who exchanges a short look with you before pointedly glancing over to where one of Mishima’s newer executives, Ibuse Masuji is whispering with one of his colleagues, looking in your direction a bit too frequently for comfort. He’s going to come over and ask you for a dance soon, probably around the same time Michiko starts tugging Chuuya in the direction of the hardwood floor at the center of the room—Noriko won’t ask you now that Dazai is here.

Wonderful, you think to yourself bitterly. You don’t really want to deal with Ibuse tonight, but you suppose you’ll probably get better information from him than Noriko. Noriko likes to ramble about more general gossip—who’s sleeping with who, who’s mad at who, and all of that is useful to an extent when you need to figure out what’s going on with Sun and Steel internal politics, but Ibuse has loose lips about more meaningful matters, and you’ve heard some nerve-wracking rumors about the Red Chamber recently.

The things you do for the Port Mafia. 

You straighten your necklace, gaze lifting to Chuuya again as you withhold a sigh. You can see Ibuse starting to make his way across the event hall in your direction, and Chuuya gives you a pitying smile that instantly freezes as his eyes pin to something behind you again. You also freeze, because you know it could only mean one thing.

Dazai is coming over.

You raise your eyebrows at him pointedly, wanting to know whether or not Dazai’s approach is a good or bad one—if he’s coming over to finally address you, or if he’s coming over so he can more blatantly ignore you. Each one is equally possible, and the way Chuuya grimaces and shrugs only makes your anxiety spike more.

But you get your answer as soon as he arrives.

You inhale sharply when you feel Dazai’s fingers brush over your hip as he comes to stand directly behind you. You can feel his chest brushing your back, his presence warm and looming directly behind you. With his sudden arrival, the conversation happening between Noriko and Michiko comes to an abrupt halt, and you can see Ibuse freeze mid-step from where he was drawing closer to you. The two girls avert their gaze to the ground, not acknowledging Dazai, and it irritates you, they’ve never hidden how unnerved Dazai makes them, and though you don’t think it bothers him anymore, you know very well it used to. 

Your throat spasms when Dazai’s hand settles more firmly on your hip, and you turn your head slightly to the side to look up at him, breath catching when you find that his gaze is already lidded and focused on you, visible eye far too dark and tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Dance with me,” Dazai murmurs, only for you to hear.

“You want to dance?” you ask, a bit incredulously, trying not to be hyper-focused on how he’s touching you. You don’t know what has gotten into him, but it has your heart racing. “Dazai, what-”

“Dance with me.” 

It’s not a request, you realize, taking in a sharp breath as his gaze becomes more intense. You can feel curious eyes on you from around the room; it’s to be expected, it’s you and Dazai. Of everyone here, the two of you always have the most eyes on you at all times, but it’s different now. 

Dazai usually keeps to himself during events, he wanders up and down the length of the room, keeping to the edges to observe what’s happening unless he’s looking for information from someone. He really stays true to his moniker, a black wraith haunting the shadows and keeping everyone on edge. You can’t remember the last time he willingly stepped out of them to interact with people, much less engage in things like dancing.

“Okay,” you agree quietly, not even bothering to look back at your previous companions as Dazai’s hand slides from your hip to your lower back, guiding you to the hardwood floor where several other couples are already swaying along to the music being played by the quintet in the corner of the room. “What’s gotten into you?”

Dazai doesn’t answer your question, looking down at you from the corner of his eye for a moment before looking back ahead. He doesn’t have to search for a spot on the dance floor—as soon as people realize that’s where he’s headed, they’re quick to leave a wide berth for the two of you, no one wanting to get too close to the most infamous Port Mafia executive.

Your heart races as he leads you to the center of the hardwood floor. Though you can feel dozens of eyes pinned on the two of you, all you can focus on is him. You can hardly breathe when he turns to face you, one hand resting on your hip while he holds the other out for you to take. You swallow thickly as you place your hand into his. He entwines your fingers with his instead of the traditional palm-to-palm, and he pulls you toward him so that your chests are brushing. You’re so close to him that you catch the faint and familiar scent of smoke and iron and it makes you dizzy.

Distantly, you know that this probably isn’t smart. If people think that you and Dazai are together, it will only be harder for you to get information from them. They’ll be wary around you in fear of him, and you’re not even sure if your ability will be enough to counteract the anxiety he triggers in people. You shouldn’t be risking that just for a dance, but…

But you can never think straight when he’s around, even less when his skin is warm against yours, and the way he’s looking at you… His dark eye is heavy with so many emotions, too many for you to even place a single one—you’ve always been good at reading people, but never him, and now, more than ever, you wish you could. You want to know what he’s thinking. You want to know what he’s feeling. You want to know him, because as much as you claim you do, you know that he masks himself from you. You want to ask him again—what’s gotten into you? Why have you been avoiding me? But you think it’ll scare him off, so instead, you ask:

“When did you learn to dance? Today?”

He’s better than you thought he would be. He effortlessly spins you across the dancefloor. Each step is quick and precise—you’ve had training in this type of dancing, but you still struggle a little to keep up with him. Though, you think it’s less because of your own skill, and more because of who exactly your partner is.

“What makes you think I haven’t known how?” Dazai drawls, voice low and languid, dark eye glittering with amusement. His grip on your hand tightens just a little as he pulls you into a half-spin. He presses when you don’t immediately respond, “Hm?” 

“Because you’re you,” you finally answer with a fleeting smile. “So? When did you learn?”

“Tonight,” he tells you. “I’ve been watching them.”

“Hah,” you say—of course he’s this good just through observation. Ever the mirror. “You better not embarrass me.”

“Like this?” he asks with a smile that puts you on edge, and you give him a dirty look when he purposely takes a wrong step, forcing you to overstep in order to not land on his foot. You’re careful to make it look casual—a wider turn rather than a misstep—but with the number of eyes currently on the two of you, you know very well that people probably caught it. His apology comes in the form of an airy, “Whoops,” that you know he doesn’t mean.

His lips curl up into a smug smile, and your breath catches when you feel his hand slide from your hip to your low back so he can pull your body flush to his for the next turn. Your throat spasms as you tilt your head back to look up at him, and again, there’s that unreadable look in his eye as his eyes rove over your face. 

“Why?” you finally brave yourself to ask, voice quiet and too breathy for your liking. You don’t specify what the why is, and that’s intentional, this way he can pick what he wants to answer and won’t feel as cornered by the question. 

His visible eye narrows for a moment, and then something akin to reluctance spreads across his face, and then resignation. You wonder if he’ll answer, hardly even able to breathe as you wait for him to speak. But after a few tense moments, disappointment hits you hard, because a teasing smile spreads across his lips and you know he’s going to evade the question.

Still, your heart races when Dazai dips you down, lowering his face so that his lips brush your ear as he says, “You looked like you were bracing yourself for a bullet with Ibuse getting ready to come over. Figured I’d rescue you.”

Though the music continues, Dazai doesn’t lift you from the dip. He does pull his face back so that he can look you in the eye. He’s so close to you that you can feel his warm breath fanning across your lips and it leaves you dizzy. The look in his eye now—you almost want to dare to believe you know what it is—it’s too close to the same emotion you feel whenever the two of you are curled up on the couch watching a movie. It’s too similar to longing, yearning, the desperate need for more, the desire to be yours just as badly as you want to be his, but you don’t want to get your hopes up when you know he can crush them in an instant.

His gaze drops down to your lips and then drags back up to your face, and you know he won’t kiss you, not in front of all of the eyes currently pinned on the two of you. Not in front of Mori. It’s nice to imagine though.

“Is that really why?” you breathe out, eyes searching his for an answer.

Something new crosses his face—it’s sharp and it’s angry, something that promises violence, not toward you, but toward the one who provoked it. His gaze cuts to the side briefly in the direction of where Ibuse Masuji is still standing frozen in the middle of the event hall, staring at the two of you, and then he looks back down at you, lips tilted up into a wry smile. 

“Partially,” he says, but doesn’t give you the chance to question any further, finally pulling you up from the dip to fall in line with the last steps of the dance. 

He turns you so that your back is pressed to his chest, palm cupping the back of your hand, fingers interlaced. His free hand slides around to your abdomen, holding your body flush to his. The music slows as the song comes to an end, but Dazai doesn’t release you. You turn your head to the side and tilt your head back to look up at him, inhaling when you find that he’s already looking at you, dark hair hanging in his lidded eye as he watches you.

“Are you… coming home tonight?” you finally ask, voice soft and hesitant.

“I’ll think about it,” he says, but his eye is glittering playfully, so you know that he’ll be home waiting for you by the time you get done at the event. He always manages to leave early—no one has the nerve to try to stop him. He dips his head a bit lower, lips ghosting your ear as he says, “You should thank me, you won’t have to worry about anyone else bothering you tonight.”

He finally lets go of you, your arms fall limp to your side and your breath is a bit too shaky for comfort. He tosses a wink in your direction before shoving his hands in his pockets and making his way back toward the outskirts of the room.

And he’s right—for the rest of the night, not a single person dared to approach you.

———

Even though you’re fairly certain Dazai will be there waiting for you, you still hold your breath as the elevator doors slide open to your apartment. Your feet are aching, you hardly got a chance to sit once during the night and you’re ready to curl up on the couch and watch a movie. 

As you step into your apartment, you can’t help the way your heart drops when you don’t immediately see him, and you especially can’t help the relief that spreads through you when you realize he’s lounging on the couch, out of sight from the angle you entered at. At once, you can breathe again—you’ve missed him the past week, more than you ever could’ve imagined.

“Hi,” you say quietly, coming to stand at the foot of the couch.

Dazai shed his black waistcoat, his shirt is untucked and his tie is loose around his neck, head resting on the far armrest as he looks up at you with a lazy grin that lights your nerves on fire.

“Hi,” he echoes. “I picked a movie.”

“A good one I hope,” you tell him with a small smile. “Let me go get changed.”

You turn on your heel to make your way up the steps to your bedroom, but before you can get to the staircase, Dazai speaks up again, “Can you even reach the clip?”

You hesitate as you glance at him over your shoulder. You technically can, but… “No,” you reply, and then lie, “Chuuya helped me get it on.”

Dazai’s lips flatten, but he does push himself to his feet to follow you up the stairs. You spare a glance behind you, catching the hard expression on his face as he stares at your back. You raise your eyebrows at him and it instantly washes away, replaced with a teasing smile as he raises his right back at you. You squint at him, but shake your head as you reach the top of the stairs, stepping into your room. 

When Dazai steps in after you, you swear the temperature in the room rises. 

You turn to look at him, and he tilts his head to the side idly, dark eye dancing with amusement as he slowly approaches you. He looks a mess with how his shirt is untucked and his tie is loosely hanging around his neck, hair tousled from laying back on the couch—he looks a mess, and you’ve never wanted him more.

You’re sick of the back and forth with him—it’s been a year and a half of it and you’re tired—you want to be his, you want him to be yours. Every time you think Dazai might finally make the first move, he ends up taking fifty steps backward for whatever reason. You don’t want to push it because you have a feeling it will only make him even more standoffish. Tonight has been more progress than you’ve made in a while—if you and him are going to happen, it’ll be now or it’ll never happen. Your pride won’t allow you to chase and pine for any longer.

He comes to stand directly in front of you and you think he wants you to turn around, but just when you’re about to, he gives you a sharp smile that instantly has you on edge, and then he lowers himself to his knees in front of you. Your lips part in shock, heart beat stuttering in your chest.

“We should get these off first, right?” he hums, reaching down for the clasp of your heel, knowing damn well the effect he’s having on you from the smug expression on his face. Although you can’t help but notice that his eye is darker than usual, pupil blown wide as he undos the clasp and slides your heel off. 

“Right,” you agree breathily, lashes fluttering when you feel the pads of his fingers press against your ankle as he places your foot back down on the ground before shifting to do the same for the other one.

This time, his throat bobs nervously and his fingers fumble over the clasp. When he finally gets the clasp off, he looks up at you through his lashes as he slides your heel off, but he doesn’t rise to his feet right away once he sets your foot down. Your fingers twitch at your side to reach out and brush them against his face, but you refrain, if only barely. 

After what feels like an eternity, Dazai finally rises to his feet, and he’s standing all too close to you. You can feel the heat of his body, you have to tilt your head up to look at him and when you do, you can feel his breath against your lips.

“Turn,” he murmurs.

You swallow thickly as you do as he asks, and your breath audibly catches when you feel his fingers brush the nape of your neck as he shifts your hair out of the way. You expect him to tease you, but you realize his breathing is almost as unsteady as yours is, you can feel each puff against the back of your neck and it has your hair on end. Your lashes flutter as Dazai slowly unzips your dress, the cool air of your room stark in contrast to the line of fire left behind with each brush of his fingers against your spine.

When he gets the zipper all the way down, he doesn’t move away, hands settling on your hips as he hovers behind you. You think your heart might race right out of your chest, head foggy and unsteady on your feet.

For a few long moments, neither of you speak.

And then, you make a terrible mistake.

“Why have you been avoiding me the past week?” you ask quietly, desperate for some sort of answer as to what happened between the two of you that made him go cold on you like this. His grip on your hips tightens, and you instantly want to eat your words. “Dazai?”

He doesn’t even deign you with a response.

Your heart is lodged in your throat when you feel his hands drop from your hips and his presence leaving from behind you. You’re cold, your body is, your heart is, and now you really are unsteady without his hands to ground you. You whip around to face him, knees wobbly as you call after him again, but you don’t chase after him—not this time. Bitterly, you think you’ve spent the last year and a half chasing after him and all you ever get in return is him running away.

You watch him disappear down the steps, frozen in place because how did one question ruin everything. For the first time in weeks, you thought you were actually making progress with him and just like that, it’s back to square one. You feel like you don’t breathe until you hear the elevator arrive on your floor, signalling that he’s left.

“Shit,” you breathe out shakily, sitting back on your bed and burying your face in your hands. You can feel all of the champagne you drank earlier in the night threatening to come up and your head feels light. You fumble for your phone, clicking on a familiar contact and gasping his name as soon as he answers the call, “Chuuya?”

“Yo,” you hear him ask, concerned. “You good? Aren’t you with-”

“Can you come over?” you push out before he has the chance to say his name. “I just-I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep waiting. I can’t-”

“I’m coming,” Chuuya tells you when your words cut out into a sob. God, you can’t remember the last time you cried like this. Your whole body aches as you pull your knees to your chest and rock yourself back and forth trying to calm yourself down. “I’ll be there in five. I’m coming.”

You told yourself before that it was tonight or never, and you’re done waiting for him. No matter how badly it hurts to force yourself to move on—you’re done. 

You have to be, for your own sake. 

[neovillains]

gynecologist!nanami, who is usually such a professional man. always making sure his patients are well taken care of and know they're in safe hands. that is until he meets you.

you've been coming in recently because you've been having really bad cramps. you're contemplating on getting an iud or taking birth control, but the moment you voice it out, gynecologist!nanami quickly shut you down. he says he'll conduct a few tests, and in a few weeks' time, you can come back and he'll make the decision then.

but a few weeks' time comes around and he keeps scheduling appointments and delaying the inevitable. there's guilt coursing through him with the way there's a stir inside his pants with the way he looks at you up and down at your figure. he clears his throat while prescribing you to take some pain meds.

when you finally have enough, he knows he can't stall any longer. so, while you have a moment of privacy, dressing into the hospital gown and sitting on the bed, nanami tries to convince himself to be... professional. however, when you give him the okay to open the door and he instructs you to prop your legs open, all rationality leaves him.

his gloves-clad hands rub soothing circles in your inner thighs, and you're questioning the normality of the situation. however, before you could even think about saying anything, he beat you to it. "have you ever thought of sexual relief? it's a more... hollistic remedy."

"huh?" his fingers inch closer to your center, testing the waters. and you feel ashamed with the way you feel a heat run through your core, a build-up of arousal starting to accumulate.

a finger glides down to your folds, and despite the rubber feeling, he can tell you r wet just by the way they stick. he gains more boldness as he hums out a 'yes.' "i'm pretty sure this could all be avoided with a little bit of vaginal stimulation."

he rambles on, telling you about the studies of intercourse and how masturbation can be a reliever of cramps. all the while, his fingers tease at your entrance as your slick sticks to the gloves. however, you couldn't care less. toes curling, a soft whimper leaves your lips. "please..."

and no need for a elaboration, he knows what you want. thick fingers ease their way inside of you, gradually pumping in and out of you before building up a rhythmic pace. when your moans and cries get too loud, he has to hush you. "you have to quiet down a bit, dear. you don't want me to lose my license, do you?"

hushed moans and the wet sound of your pussy against his gloved hands, you have to choke back on your cries when you feel that coil inside your stomach and your walls clamping down over his thick fingers. gynecologist!nanami gives you hushed praises throughout, "good... you took my fingers so well."

he coaxes you to an orgasm, deep voice that runs smooth down your spine as you shiver. "c'mon, i promise after this, you won't feel any pain anymore."

and just like he promised, when you cum all over his fingers, the pain subsides. thick digits that still rest inside you, his thumb draws figure-eights on your clit. your chest heaves up and down before you're more level-headed. you can see it, his erection. however, instead of doing anything about it, he concludes your appointment with, "i have my personal number written down for you if you start having anymore cramps."

adjusting his pants to not make it so obvious, he leaves you alone for you to get dressed. you, on the other hand, feel yourself only getting more worked up again and quickly deciding to save his number to your phone.

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[aninipanin1]

GLASS SHOES

Pairing: Nagi Seishiro x Reader

"In the midst of the many beautiful guests and opulent decorations, the lazy prince can only see one person - you." (Cinderella AU)

Note: I def did not imagine Nagi wearing this outfit of him in the official art lmao lmao. But anyways, midway through editing I realized Nagi's eyes were GREY and NOT BROWN which pissed me off (mandela effect is wildin) so forgive me if there are some instances I called his eyes brown.

"That boy will never learn, will he?!"

A loud bang echoed throughout the large meeting room inside the gargantuan and lavish palace. The king, who frequently received reports from his men about his only son, the crown prince was once again more than angry about the news he received.

The duke, who was with the king, cowered as His Majesty threw a small tantrum about how his son will never listen, or about how he does not take his duties seriously.

"Your m-majesty, I believe we just have to be patient-"

"I AM PATIENT, AND I HAD ALWAYS BEEN, ESPECIALLY WITH HIM!"

The old king's face turned into a comical cherry red, which got the duke a little worried for his health, patting the smaller male's back with the intent to comfort the furious and weary king.

"Sleeping in his sword fighting lessons, escaping his philosophy and politics lectures just to play in the carnivals, and now letting the Princess of Marais await him just because he did not want to get married and slept in?! Ridiculous!! Oh, how will I face that dear girl's family."

The king finally fell to his chair in exhaustion. He hated to stress himself or be mad at his beloved son, but Seishiro always did bring out the childish, unreasonable anger in him, especially since the boy had been the way he was since he was born.

Seishiro had always been the lazy kid, a characteristic no one knew where it originated. Both his parents were responsible and dignified leaders of the kingdom, something their subjects praised them for for years. The only thing that kept him from making the kingdom fall on its roots was the fact that he was a genius.

Playing the piano beautifully at the young age of 10, beating his fencing master at the age of 12, and even outsmarting his tactics mentor at the age of 15. He seemed to just get anything that was taught to him in such a short time and without any struggle too.

How befitting of the nickname the Lazy Genius Prince that most of the people in the kingdom called him.

"I just want to see him happy. For him to settle down and find someone he loves just like how I did at his age. Not wasting his time in his dreams slumbering away or playing those mindless games. I'm not getting younger, after all..."

The king let out a deep sigh, a frown on his face. Ever since his beloved wife died, it was a little harder to get through and communicate with Seishiro, seeing that she was closer to their son than he was. She always did know what to say or do just to make their Seishiro interested.

A regret that the king placed upon his shoulder is that the prince mostly grew up alone since both he and the late queen had always been busy. Slaving themselves away to make sure the kingdom was prosperous, but what they did not know is they also slaved themselves away into being close to nothing in their son's life.

And due to this, he became like this. Completely dissociated from the world.

"Oh, it's all my fault... I should have been a better father. My poor Seishiro..."

He sobbed dramatically as the duke patted his back.

"It's fine, your majesty. Perhaps we should just leave him to decide for himself-"

"Leave him alone?! Oh no, no, you see, tonight is a special night!"

The king laughed, cheering as if he was not just sobbing his heart out a few seconds ago. He sat again on his chair, grinning like an evil mastermind.

"Tonight? You mean the ball in honor of the princess-"

"No, no, NO! Not just that! But I made sure that ALL the eligible maiden in my kingdom is to attend. I'm sure he won't be interested in most of them, but he is surely to like one them isn't he?"

"But sire-"

"Oh, lighten up! HE MOST DEFINITELY WILL!"

The king started to hop around in excitement, thinking about the prospect of his only son married to a beautiful and sweet girl, along with him finally having the grandchildren he had always wanted.

"Time out, Reo..."

"C'mon, Your Highness. We just started less than 3 minutes ago."

Still, the albino prince did not listen. Slumping on the grass face first, not even minding that the dirt was tainting his pristine white uniform. No, he just continued sprawling himself on the grass and dirt, his sword left clanging on the ground.

Seishiro and his right-hand man and the heir of the duke, Lord Reo were currently training their swordsmanship. Well, mostly it was Reo taking it seriously, and Seishiro always tries to find a way to escape the training or take a long break.

Seeing as to how the white-haired prince seldom moved, Reo let out a sigh of resignation before sitting beside him on the grass.

"Fine, only a few minutes before someone sees us not training."

Seishiro did not seem to hear his companion. His grey eyes just focused on looking at the beautiful blue sky. Behind his distracted eyes were many thoughts that ran through his head, thoughts he did not want to think about and found a hassle, but he could not get off his mind no matter how hard he tried.

"You alright?"

"Hmm...Reo, do I really have to find a wife in the ball tonight?"

His words came out lazily slurred. However, there is a hint of something beneath it, something that only those who knew Seishiro well can hear. Annoyance? Disappointment? Sadness? The purple-haired lord could not decipher it, but he gave the prince a smile and a pat on the shoulder.

"Unfortunately, yes. Our kingdom needs a future queen, and well, you know that it's part of our duties as noblemen. Especially you, being the crown prince."

He nodded, turning his attention to the sky once again, still sprawling out on the grass. He let out a curious hum.

"How will I even know who to choose? It's not like I know any girl at all. Hmm...what a hassle everything is. I don't want to get married nor do I wanna be king, anyways."

"Don't be like that! You have been training for this all your life. It will be such a waste to abandon it all. And, you can always interact with them and find someone you find common grounds with."

But the concept of marriage and love still felt a big thing to the prince. He had a good example of love, his father and late mother loved each other dearly, and his father was not the same after she sadly passed. However, did he wish for that same connection with someone? No.

It felt like a hassle. A hassle to care so much about someone that you have to change the way you live to respond to them. It is a hassle to feel something so heavy, to always be cautious, so your heart can not be broken. The same way his father did just to please his own mother and vice versa, only for his heart to be broken once his beloved died of a ruthless illness.

"I don't wanna do it, Reo. Too much of a bother."

He turned and fell face first on the soft grass, which only made the duke's son sigh as he thought out loud.

"I wonder how your future fiancée will handle you, your highness. I give her all my regards and respect. Now c'mon, let's start training again."

"Nooo..."

"There will be so many beautiful dresses and decorations. Oh, I can imagine hearing the beautiful orchestral music or even seeing people dance elegantly! I can imagine the ball would be something out of a fairytale."

You wistfully imagined, dancing about the cold and dusty storage room with a broom in one hand and a duster in another. You looked out the window of the room where from a far, you can make out the tall and majestic palace.

For years, you had always been stuck in this manor. Filled with responsibility over responsibility whilst mourning the once bright atmosphere of the place. This was once a house filled with laughter and love. Love between your father, mother and you.

But, it all changed when your mother died due to her illness, and your father remarried once again after a few years. At first, you were happy for your father. He met someone who made him happy and feel loved again, and additionally to that, you will be having two sisters your age. Oh, how exciting could that be!

However, when your father also passed away, everything in the house changed. You were banished from your once cozy room into the attic, forced to do the household chores due to the fact your stepmother was not good at handling the money of your father, and consequently, lost many workers that once worked under the family manor as a form of damage control.

You never gave up hope, though. Hope that you will be free and one day have your dreams of a happy and loving life like you did before come true. But, for now, daydreams are all that you have and so, you dream.

"Welp, no time dancing around. I have to finish all of these so stepmother can allow me to go to the prince's ball."

You went back to dusting, brooming, and overall arranging the dozens of boxes in the storage room that are mostly filled with old dresses, jewelry, or other knic knacks your stepsisters bought and seldom used again.

After that, you went downstairs to prepare lunch to which you bumped into your stepfamily.

"Oh, Y/n! Polish these shoes perfectly, you hear? It has to be perfect so the prince himself can only look at me tonight!" Ai said, putting a box of shoes in the already large pile of cleaning supplies and other dresses they asked you to fix.

"No! Iron this first! It needs to be perfrctly straight and crisp! I will have the prince's attention on ME, Ai!" Chie cut off as the two started to argue again. You just heaved a sigh and walk away from them to start doing everything they asked you to, knowing you can not afford to dilly dally as the hours ticked and you still have not finished some tasks, especially now that they added a few more on your already overflowing plate.

As expected, when the coach arrived, it was just then that you finished your chores and therefore did not have any time to fix the old dress your mother passed down to you. It was a beautiful dress. However, it was old and needed a few alterations, or else some part of it would probably rip the moment you even put it on.

"Why, child. Why are you not ready yet?" You hear the dreaded voice of your stepmother, hearing the hidden satisfaction in her tone, seeing as you will not be going.

"I'm not going." You said, trying not to let the unshed tears fall or the shake in your voice be heard.

"Not going? Oh, what a shame."

"It's nothing. Please, have a wonderful night."

You headed up to your room, or if you can even call the attic, that. You looked out your window to see the rest of the kingdom, and from afar, you can see the palace as it shined bright amidst the black tint of the night sky due to probably the many chandeliers and other reflective and illuminating materials around its opulent build.

"My only chance to have something fun at least for once...it's the only time I am even a part of the demographic of a ball. Yet... yet I can not even go."

A sigh of sadness and disappointment left you. You were not an idiot and you knew that all the stalling your stepfamily did was to prevent you from ever going. But, you still could not understand why they did not want you to go. It was not like you wanted to get in their way of marrying the prince. You just wanted one night. One night of respite and fun from the hellish life you currently lived in.

Resting your head on the frame of the window, you feel your heart break a little at the thought of missing this one night of supposed fun. Well, that was until you noticed your lamp lighting up. Turning around, you found all your animal friends, those that you have taken cared of over the years of loneliness in this place, gathered up as they showed you a beautiful dress, one that was familiar enough yet altered so perfectly that it became a bit unrecognizable at first.

"It's perfect! It's so beautiful, thank you so much all of you! I owe you all!"

The mice and birds all look proud of themselves as they tweet and squeak before pointing at the dressing room, urging you to change quickly before the coach or your stepfamily left.

"Remember, girls. No slouching, arguing, pitter-pattering, or mischievous chattering. Just poise and elegance. You must attract Prince Seishiro's attention and nothing more. Understood?"

"Yes, mother." Ai and Chie said at the same time to which the elder woman nodded approvingly as the two fixed their larger than life dresses.

"Wait, please, wait for me!"

A call got them to turn to the staircase where they found you in a simple yet beautiful dress and your hair simply done. You doned no jewellery, make-up, or beautiful shoes since you did not have any, just a beautiful smile and a genuine heart.

"Well, well, it seemed you found a rather...acceptable dress to the ball, child."

"Yes. Oh, I promise I won't bother you at all. I just really want to see the palace and go out even just for tonight."

"I see, I see..." Your stepmother walked closer and closer to you, her eyebrows raised, and her eyes held no good intent as they glared at the dress from top the bottom. Her smile spoiled and bitter, the same way the glint in her eyes shone.

"However, I don't presume you think me and my daughters will be going to the ball wearing these just to have someone beside us wear...this. It's preposterous and humiliating, after all." She said snarkily, the pretend smile still on her face as she touched the sleeves as if examining it at first, before pulling it with such a force that the fragile fabric ripped.

You gasped, trying to pull back. However, you were outnumbered as Ai grabbed the skirt and pulled it so harshly that it ripped too.

"And the fabric is absolutely filthy, mother! The prince and the other nobles will certainly get sick the moment she enters in this monstrosity!"

Chie, not wanting to be left out, grabbed your hair, making the hard work you put on to fix your hair vanish as it fell down from its updo.

"And her hair us absolutely hideous, mother. We will the laughingstock of the entire palace!"

It all happened too fast. In the blink of an eye, all the hard work of your friends and the memory of your mother that all centered around this one dress was ruined. The moment the door clicked as your stepfamily left the manor, you ran out to the nearby well in the backyard of the manor and finally, the long held back tears dropped from your eyes.

All the frustrations, abuse, sadness, and insecurities that piled up throughout the years of mistreatment and enslavement under your supposed family left through warm teardrops, falling into the deep well. No formed words were needed to translate to anyone that might be seeing (including your animal friends who peeked at you) you as your sobs and tears were enough to know that you were heartbroken and had had enough of everything. That your psyche was close, if not, already falling apart.

"Why are you crying, my child?"

You hear a voice ask from behind you. Turning around, you found an old lady, soot covering her face with nothing on but a thin and old dress, keeping her supposedly warm from the cold wind of the night. You wiped your tears and swallowed the sobs that racked your throat.

"It's nothing, ma'am. Umm, are you alright? It's too cold for you to out here, especially tonight."

"Oh, I don't have anywhere to stay at. I will be fine here."

But, you knew that it was impossible. You were already shivering, what more an old lady garbed in nothing but a thin, worn-out dress? So, you did what you do best, helping her up into the stables where it was definitely warmer, giving her a blanket and a fresh cup of water straight from the well.

"You did not have to do this for me, dear."

"It's nothing, ma'am. I can't just leave you out there in the cold tonight. Sorry if the stables are a little stinky, but it's safer and warmer here. I'll clean it up tonight for you, if you want."

Just as you were about to get a rake and a bucket, her hand immediately stopped you. Her hands were nimble and wrinkly. However, it was warm and soft to the touch. She gave you a warm and kind smile before shaking her head.

"Oh no, dear. We can't have you dirtying yourself before going to the ball now, can we?"

"Huh? The ball-"

You were cut off when small sparkly butterflies and flower petals surrounded her figure. Her once dirty and worn-out clothes turned into a beautiful and magical white and blue dress, her wrinkly and soot covered face turned into one of a beautiful middle-aged woman with beautiful bouncy locks of hair.

She heaved out a few coughs, flicking her wrist and shooing the sparkly dust that fell upon her from her previous transformation.

"This is why I hate using fairy dust. Anyways! Thank you for your kindness, my dear! I am so happy to see my cute goddaughter turn into such a beautiful and kind young woman."

"Goddaughter..? Then you must be-!"

"Your Fairy Godmother, of course! I know it must be a little shocking, but I heard your cries, love. So what's the matter, hm? You can tell your lil, ol' godmother."

She cupped your face, her hands warm and loving, the opposite of your stepmother's cold and callous hold earlier when she ripped your dress. Speaking of dress, you looked down at your dress before turning to your godmother.

"It's just...I want to go to the ball, however I can't because I don't have-"

"Oh, of course! You don't have a ride there! Then you must not worry, my dear. This is why your beloved fairy godmother is here!"

She looked around for her supposed 'wand' only for her to find it inside the well's bucket? Not wanting to complicate magic in your mind, you just smiled at her as she pointed her wand at a pumpkin before turning it into a beautiful gold and silver carriage. It was something fitting for a fairytale or someone of a royal bloodline, not something you thought you deserved. Though, you cannot help the gasp and smile that escaped your lips.

"Oh, it's beautiful! Thank you, godmother!"

She just chuckled and shrugged it off, turning her head to your mice friends who were on top of a well, turning them into horses that are attached to the front of the carriage with some being left out to become the driver and the footman.

"There! Now, hurry up, my dear. It's getting late, and the ball will not be waiting."

"Oh, um thank you, but my dress-"

"Yes, it is absolutely gorg- goodness me! You can't go to the ball in that."

You gave her a smile as she walked closer to you.

"We need a simple yet beautiful dress, fitting for the shade of your eyes and the colour of your hair."

Waving her wand, dozens of golden and silver fairy dust that materialized into butterflies and flower petals surrounded your figure as a glow appeared all over your teared-up dress.

The once destroyed fabric and structure of the dress turned into a beautiful (color) ballgown. Butterflies, sparkles, and flower petals surround the dress in a minute way, yet add to the magic of the dress. It was not overwhelming to the eyes, especially the soft tone of the fabric that contrasted the night sky. Your hair was in a beautiful hairstyle that framed and fitted your face perfectly with seldom decorations and pieces of jewelry, only a small earring, a pair of gloves, and a beautiful arrangement of flowers attached to your hair.

It was simple yet ethereally beautiful, just like you. The gasp that you let out was one of awe and gratefulness as you laughed and twirled around in the dress.

"This... this is breathtaking. Thank you! Thank you so much!"

"It's nothing. You deserve it, after all. However, my dear, you must understand that by the stroke of 12 in the clock, the spell will be broken, and everything would revert back to how it once was."

She explained seriously as she watched you marvel at the dress. You took into account her warning and just smiled, nodding your head. Even with the conditions, you still felt so grateful for the few hours given to you.

"I understand, but it's so much more than I have ever hoped for."

The fairy godmother smiled at this and took you to the carriage where the mouse-turned-footman was about to help you into the carriage when she noticed your shoe that stepped unto the ladder to enter inside the carriage.

"Oh dear! Your...shoes..." She said, biting her nails. You looked at her before looking at your worn-out shoe. Its once vibrant and soft colour turned it to something more akin to black due to the soot, dust, and other dirt particles that you had to always encounter as the endentured servant of the manor.

"Oh, it's fine, godmother. It's not like anyone would see it. Besides, you already helped me with so much." You said with a wide grin, just excited to go to the ball even in your old and disintegrating pair of shoes. After all, ever since your step family took over, you were not given the luxury to buy any new pair of shoes and clothes.

You had to always be creative. Sewing the same shoes back together, or putting random clothes to cover the holes of the few dresses that you have to make it work. However, your godmother begged to differ as she flicked her wand once again.

The old shoes disappeared and were instead replaced by a pair of shining glass slippers. It reflected different colours depending on the light hitting it, with even a small delicate butterfly on the front.

"Wow...they are beautiful. And surprisingly comfortable too."

You wondered, raising your feet up a bit to look at the shoes.

"Yes, of course! You need them to be comfortable so you can dance your heart away! Now go, go! Enjoy your night, my dear!"

"Thank you so much for everything!" You waved at her as the carriage started to move through the streets to head to the palace.

"Your Highness...please stand up."

Reo sighed for the umpteenth time that night as he watched the albino-haired prince lay down on the edge of the fountain in the palace gardens. They were currently waiting for all the guests to fill in, and as always, the lazy prince left the ballroom and headed to a place where he can take his nap.

Which is why both of them were there.

"Seishiro, how long are you planning to take your nap?"

"Hmm..? Until the ball...ends..." He started to snore away, well, until he was hit on the head with a chop by Reo, to which he flinched and looked up.

"Ow...why'd you do that, Reo?"

"Because you're being an idiot. This ball is literally for you, which means you have to be there! His Majesty was kind enough not to involve you in greeting the guest when you're supposed to be there. Now let's go, the introductions are about to start, and I don't want to face His Majesty's wrath when he finds out we both aren't in the ballroom."

The purple-haired heir started to drag the prince by the collar of his uniform, being mindful to not drag him on the ground while patting off any dust or leaves stuck on his pristine, white attire. Seishiro, on the other hand, was softly frowning as his hair and clothes were being fixed by Reo. Especially his tangled hair, which the male struggled to finger comb and try to at least make presentable.

"You know what? I don't care about your stupid hair anymore. Let's go."

The ballroom was as grand and lavish as it could be. The marble and gold colors of the walls and floor matched well with the larger-than-life red curtains. The chandelier was one of the main characters of the interior design, with thousands of candles lit up on it. However, it was not the only light source inside the palace, for there were dozens of mini chandeliers on the ceilings with torches and candelabras on the ground.

To celebrate the occasion, huge arrangements of flowers surrounded the areas of the palace along with other decorative pieces that shouted royalty. The guests were as opulent as their surroundings, wearing beautiful and expensive gowns and suits, with jewelry that cost more than a house in the city. They came from different backgrounds, from the kingdom's aristocracy, a foreign monarchy family, and even some foreign aristocrats.

It was as every bit as overwhelming as it was awe-inspiring. Seishiro looked at everything with boredom. It was all too familiar to him, so where even is the element of surprise for him to be in awe of?

He shrugged it all off, returning to where he was supposed to be (or else he would be dragged by Reo if he did not do it on his own). When the announcer saw him, he started to speak. First, with a welcoming speech to everyone before calling off each and every maiden's name that were invited and have arrived.

Through it all, Seishiro just did as protocol, bowing lazily, while sneaking in a few yawns here and there. This, in turn, angered his father, who watched in anticipation from afar, hoping that his son would at least show some spark of interest in his eyes towards one maiden.

"That boy is not cooperating." He said in annoyance, the duke beside him just nodded.

"It may appear so, Your Majesty. But, I believe we must not rush Prince Seishiro. After all, we know how he can be." The two watched as he just blinked his brown eyes, uninterested at the beautiful princess that was called upon him who introduced herself, and he in return.

"Agh, am I asking for too much when I told him to find a wife? It has been a few years since he came of age, and he needs a wife. There has to be someone who can be a suitable mother and wife!"

The duke blinked in a panic, seeing the king starting to get mad. After all, the king was old, and heart problems were a thing of the monarch's past. The duke cleared his throat and tried to calm him down.

The duke, secretly, is a bit against this forcing of the prince, not seeing it as logical. After all, who falls in love with someone at first glance? No one, certainly.

"He'll be fine, Your Majesty. We just need to give him time. I can not just imagine Prince Seishiro of all people, suddenly focusing his eyes on one girl with interest. Especially if he does not know her well, and do not even get me started with a dance? That is quite impossible, Your Majesty." The duke let our a chuckle to which the king rolled his eyes, focusing his on the prince, letting the duke yap on about logical thoughts and about love.

Seishiro, who was tired and drained from the introductions, ran off as the socialization portion of the ball started. He headed out of the ballroom to the main hall, finding a spot to sit down and hopefully snore away.

Down the hall was an empty velvet couch, that served as a waiting seat for the meeting room beside it where the king sometimes resided for political visits and matters. The albino-haired prince hopped on the couch and started to snore away, hoping that maybe by the time he woke up, the whole ball would be over.

The moment you entered the palace, you were immediately lost. How could you not be? It was so much larger inside compared to how it looked outside, and it was not like you ever went to the palace before, in your life.

When it came to balls, it was only your stepfamily who attended with you being left behind in the manor to do whatever piles of chores they would throw at you that certain day.

Walking around the marble and golden halls with nothing to guide you. You tried to look for clues that will hint you where the ballroom was. Holding your dress up to prevent you from tripping, your glass shoes clicked elegantly on the floor, disturbing the quiet sound of the halls.

"Oh no, I hoped I did not go deeper into the palace. Especially, on restricted places."

Just as you turned the corner, you were ecstatic to see a man in a white uniform that mirrored of his snowy hair, laying on a velvet sofa, probably sound asleep. He was probably a guard! He must know the way around this hopeless maze.

You felt rather rude to be disturbing him. It was not his fault anyway that you got lost in the palace, but instead, it was fully yours. However, you did not want to get into deeper trouble, so with a nervous heart and an embarrassed look in your eyes, you woke him up as politely as you could.

"Um, sir? Excuse me?"

Seishiro groaned a bit in his slumber at the feeling of someone's hand poking his shoulder gently. He did feel a little annoyed with being woken up from a good nap. However, he did stand up, thinking that if he was gone for too long, his father would probably get mad at him.

When he managed to get his conscious state together, he found himself looking at a young lady, probably around his age, shyly smiling at him. She wore a beautiful (colour) ballgown with a butterfly and flower motif, her hair in an elegant hairstyle with flowes attached to it.

She was beautiful, and he won't lie about that.

"Hmm? Who are you..? What time is it?" He rubbed his eyes, muttering his words like a whisper.

"Oh, um, it is currently 8 PM, and I am just a visitor for the ball. I was wondering if you know where the ballroom is?"

You gave him a smile, one polite and warm to a degree. He just nodded, a bit dazed from his sleep, not registering your last question.

"8 PM, huh? Then, the ball is still ongoing. Hmp, I don't want to go back." He said with a frown, a bit torn between going back to the ballroom or not and risking being scolded hard by his father. You, on the other hand, were a bit confused as to how someone not enjoying the prospect of a ball.

"Really? Why don't you want to go the ball? It's supposed to be one, if not the biggest, celebration of the kingdom. Especially, since it is about the prince finding his future bride." His frown deepened at the mention of him finding a wife, before sighing begrudgingly.

"It is. But, it gets a little boring, sometimes. It's the same thing, same atmosphere and same annoying people. If it's the same thing, then why repeat it again and again? I should be just sleeping away."

You blinked at that, finding the man quite peculiar. He was very much lazy, just from the way he seemed to hate even the notion of moving or socializing eas enough for you to know that. You wondered how he became a guard with such a personality?

"I guess. You're right. If it's repetitive, it does get annoying."

"Right? And it's not like it brings any sort of entertainment anyway. Everyone in there acts the same. Too polite it makes me feel suffocated. For example, if you don't follow the trend or rules, then suddenly you are worth it to throw shade at? Hm...If I'm gonna waste my time, then they better entertain me."

You chuckled at his mini and passionless rant, watching him bury his head on the velvet throw pillow he found on the couch. You have long stopped standing up, as the mysterious man gave you space to sit down beside him as you listened to him speak.

"Right! Right! I also heard that there had been a ball where one of the marquess' got so angry at her daughter for not standing good and not flapping her fan right that her daughter got banished to a convent because of it, with the marquess deeming her hopeless to become a wife of someone."

"Hmm, yeah. Heard of it." He confirmed, closing his eyes, yet it was very much obvious he was still listening to you.

"Oh, I also heard that once a foreign prince and king visited, and the prince was beaten in a sword duel by Prince Seishiro. So the moment they went home, the prince was scarred badly by his father, who urged him to train with him in the art of sword duelling. However, the prince loved his father too much to hurt him, so he got hurt instead of a sign of humiliation."

"I guess.." He nodded away, remembering that certain prince. He did feel a bit of pity towards him, but he was kind of cocky and insulted Reo and another one of his friends and a captain of the royal guards, Isagi. So, he did it to avenge both of his friends.

A bout of silence appeared for a few seconds as you both sat next to each other, his eyes closed and resting while your eyes were focused on the starry night outside of the large glass window in front of both of you.

Turning back to face him, you started to speak again, thinking of another subject to start talking about.

"Sir, may I ask?"

"Sure.."

"Why were you sleeping here? Surely you had something to do, especially since the ball is currently happening."

Seishiro had his mouth shut for a bit before he let out a hum.

"I do. But I don't wanna...it's too much of a hassle to move or do anything. Especially as something like a stupid ball."

"Yeah, like you said earlier. But is there another reason why?"

He paused for a second, deep in thought, mouth closing and opening like a fish desperate for water before he found the right words to say.

"Hmm, I guess. I just don't like how I'm forced to practically do everything wants me to do. I have a lot of people hoping for something big from me, but I know I can't or don't want to deliver. I'm not built for a life of so many responsibilities."

"That's not true! Every human in this world is built to be able to handle any responsibility or situation thrown at them!"

He raised an eyebrow at that, it was definitely the first time he heard of this saying before, but he nodded for you to elaborate.

"Well, being human means having struggles. Struggles we don't want to face or find it hard to face, but in the end, we have to. This is how we improve as human beings, all the hardships we go through, no matter how brutal, it's there for a reason. I don't really know you, but from your personality, I can get why you don't wanna go back to the ball, but if it's your challenge, then you just have to brave it out. After all, maybe a time will come where we end up regretting not facing our struggles."

"Heh, when will that ever happen? A life without hassle is good."

"I guess. But there is a saying that goes: "It's better to suffer early in life, than later." It means, that when we suffer early on in life, we can learn so many lessons and when that problem comes again in the future, then we can counter it better because we learned in the past."

"Hmm, I guess that makes logical sense." He stopped to think about everything you brought up in the conversation. He was utterly surprised that a conversation that started out with him asking the time, turned into something so philosophical and yet, relatable that not even his philosophy teacher, who is well versed in the meaning of life, ever mentioned nor went this deep before with him.

"But, mister. You know, I feel the opposite of you. I really want to go to the ball."

"Hmm? Why? Its a hassle." He said, opening one of his eye to look at you.

"Right, maybe it is! But, it's the only time I can ever enjoy the feeling of going through a hassle. That, I have the time and opportunity to do something useless. Because, every second of my life, I have doubles and doubles of responsibility, so to experience and do something not as an obligation but because, its my choice, feels like my first taste of freedom, you know? Not like, I'm planning on escaping or anything because I can't, but I'm still so thankful tonight, even if a few hours pales in comparison to the years of hardship."

As you went on your spiel, his eyes slowly opened. This time, he did not just listen but also looked at you. From what he can tell, your current life was not easy, but the smile on your face said otherwise. It did not feel like you enjoyed the struggle, no far from it, but instead, you loved the small taste of freedom you got to experience that night.

Is this what other people who are forced to either survive but work or else have nothing, go through? Sure, he was forced, but not to the extent that he would be thrown out by his father. Even if he was lazy like this, his father always loved him still.

He looked at the smile on your face, it was full of warmth and happiness. In fact, it was too genuine that even the corners of his mouth quirked up a bit. Maybe, just maybe he can find some sort of reason to not be as lazy as he always was, especially when it came to his responsibilities.

After all, like you, he had dozens of responsibilities. But, the way you handled them? Complete opposite of him, you seemed like a hard worker and a dreamer, the opposite of him. So, he was definitely curious how he would fare if he, at least once, tried to do his duty the way you do yours? With optimism for a better future.

His future was blank in his eyes, unlike how his father and the kingdom sees it. He's the future king, he has a legacy waiting for him to be built. Yet, he had no plans on how he'll do it. How he will leave his mark into the kingdom, but now, he thinks he may have a few ideas.

This time, he would not run away. There is a time for that, a time of respite and rest. But for tonight, he will try not to run away and face the music instead. Who knows? Maybe, just maybe, your way is the missing entertainment, the missing spark in his life.

"Oh my goodness, I forgot about the ball!"

You exclaimed, which startled Seishiro a bit. He watched as you picked your dress up, before turning to him once again.

"Uh, right! I wanted to ask if you know the way to the ballroom, sir?"

He blinked before standing up from the velvet couch, before extending his hand to you in a very gentle and chivalrous way, courtesy of all the training he had to go through when it came to etiquette.

"I'll lead you there, if you'll let me."

Your cheeks warmed up a bit at the rather sweet move before nodding your head and accepting his hand and his offer as well.

"Oh, where is he! I swear if he went back to his chambers or hid somewhere in the palace just to escape his duties, I will make sure he-"

The king was stressed out, face red the moment Reo reported to the king about how it had been more than half an hour since he had been looking for the missing albino prince, to no avail. Even if the duke and his son tried, the king was searching for the young prince. The first dance had started a few minutes ago after all, and Seishiro needed to be there to find a maiden to be his first dance. But he was not even there, and if he did not come in an instant, a lot of people would start talking.

Humiliation is awaiting the monarch of the kingdom if the prince does not arrive in the next second.

However, the king's outburst stopped when the door to the ballroom opened once again, to reveal Prince Seishiro.

"That boy! I swear-"

The king stopped whatever spiel he was about to go on once more the moment his eyes stopped at the beautiful young maiden beside his son, her delicate and gloved hand on top of his as he led her to the ballroom.

"A...a girl. Oh, he's with a girl!"

The king let out an excited and hearty laugh. He turned to the orchestra and raised his hand with such fervor, signaling for them to start the waltz. The conductor raised his baton and started to conduct the orchestra who followed his lead, as the sound of the instruments harmonized into a melodic yet colorful waltz.

Seishiro sighed, before turning to face you, hand still holding yours before bowing.

"May I have this dance?"

You blinked, in a bit of a panic, knowing that you are not the best dancer there is, especially since it has been so long since you danced a waltz.

"B-but, I'm not that good-"

"You'll be fine, I got you."

He said it in a rather serious tone, his gray eyes turning a warmer shade like how a dark cloud shines brighter when the sun hides behind it. With a curtsey of your own as a sign of acceptance, you let him hold your waist, as well as tighten his hold on your hand.

You both swayed across the dance floor, almost like it was ice and you both weighed nothing. In the small instances that you would almost lose your balance or move in the opposite direction of where he was going, Seishiro would move ahead of time to catch you or guide you to the right way, as if he could predict each and every one of your movements.

In his eyes, no one in the world was left other than you and him. The background blurred, with you being the only thing clear in his eyes. The music barely registered in his mind even, his body was being pulled by an invisible force to you, like he was always destined to be near you.

He never felt this way before, never felt so distracted yet so focused at the same time. Why you of all people? Was it because he found you attractive? No, he found many people attractive, yet he would ignore them the same way he did everybody else. Or was it because he felt some sort of connection with you in the short time you two talked in the halls? Because you touched his heart even if you did unintentionally and unconsciously?

The dance continued, his eyes stuck only on you. He even noticed the nervous look in your own eyes, face moving away to avoid his stare, face warm. Not liking that you were witholding your beautiful irises from him, he let go of your waist for a second and cupped your cheeks, guiding it back to face him.

"Don't look away. Only look at me, okay?" Nodding your head, you tried your best to calm the wild beating of the heart inside your ribcage.

As the time passed, you found your feet moving on rhythmically now. The previous clumsy movement of your feet or the lack of balance in your core slowly going away, as you trusted him enough to catch you if you lose your balance.

From afar, the king pat the duke's back, laughing heartily as they watched the dance commencing between the prince and the mysterious girl. It had been a while since the king had looked genuinely happy. Meanwhile, Reo also looked down from the balcony with a nostalgic and warm smile, watching the spark in the prince's eyes. It was a look he was a bit familiar with as there were some instances where the royalty would find it in himself to enjoy something, but most of the time it would only last a few minutes before vanishing. However, now, the spark in his grey eyes was burning bright, so bright that it looked like it would never ever die.

'I'm glad you finally found something worth the hassle for, Your Highness.'

Everything was perfect, well it was perfect until the bell started to ring, the clock's hands striking twelve.

You gasped the moment you realized it was only a few minutes before it turned midnight. Your steps stopped, eyes boring on the clock.

"I-it's midnight."

At first, Seishiro was a bit taken aback when you suddenly stopped, he also turned to the clock, a little confused.

"Yeah, it is. What's wrong-"

"I have to go." You said out of nowhere, ready to bolt out the door, but the prince's hands were still connected with yours, his grip holding unto your wrist.

"Why? The ball is not done yet."

"Oh, I-I just...really need to go. Goodbye!"

You gave one last smile before taking off the ballroom door, hand clutching your skirt tight and lifting it so you can run even faster out of the palace before the magic vanished.

The rest of the crowd, as well as the duke and the king, were all wondering, a bit panicked as to why the mystery girl the prince seemed so taken with was suddenly running away.

Reo, moved fast the moment he saw the lazy Prince Seishiro bolt out of the door as well to follow you. It was something he had never seen before, especially since he had grown up with the prince ever since they were infants.

Wasting no time, the duke's heir also chased after you, even shouting for you to stop or wait.

Meanwhile, you were battling against Father Time himself, trying to outrun his hands fast enough for you to get inside the carriage. Just as you were only a few steps away from reaching the bottom of the stairs, you heard a 'clang' hit the ceramic stairs of the palace as well as the cold and rough feeling of the floor.

Looking back, you saw one of your glass slippers lying a few steps up. You stopped, thinking if you had the time to even pick it up. But, hearing the distressing sound of the bell and the figure of the mysterious man catching up, you immediately abandon it and just head straight to the carriage where all your friends are waiting for you.

The moment you hopped inside the magical carriage and it started moving, you sighed in relief. The smile on your face, however, did not vanish as you remembered everything that happened that night.

The deep conversation that established a connection between you and him, the romantic dance that made you feel like you were on the clouds, the mysterious man who was cold and uncaring at first, but had a caring and sweet personality underneath it all.

In fact, you were too dazed, eyes dreamy even after the magic vanished. The once beautiful carriage turned back into a pumpkin, your animal friends turned back into their original forms and your once beautiful gown turned into your mother's ripped dress.

To your surprise, the glass slipper was still there. It was the only thing that grounded you that everything you experienced was not a dream, but instead, reality.

"No...I won't marry anyone else, but her, Reo."

The glare definitely took the purple-haired heir aback. The pacifist prince showing emotions other than pure boredom? That was a new repertoire in the royalty's very limited facial expressions.

Raising his arms up in surrender, Reo just nodded away to his want, not wanting to know what a pissed off Prince Seishiro would say or do.

"Sorry, Your Highness. It came from His Majesty, but I suppose he would not really be against to you finding that mystery girl from last night. All he ask is for you to find a bride."

He nodded, large hands still holding tight onto the only thing that you left behind as proof that you were real and not just a figment of his dreams: the glass shoe.

It was beautiful, definitely fitted to your feet only, especially since it was glass.

That had to mean that the slipper was customized to your foot only, to the bumps, curves and size of it, meaning that this can become a lead to you.

He stood up from his position on top of the castle staircase, walking to where the horse stables are.

"Tell some of the guards that I need a few of them to come with me to search for her, Reo."

Having no say in the matter due to his lower position, Reo nodded his head almost immediately.

It was not like he had any reasons to hold the prince back anyway, especially since this was the first time he had ever been serious about something and that made the heir of the duke quite proud, to see that the prince, his best friend was slowly turning into the strong man that he and anyone can see has the potential to be.

It was so early in the morning, yet you could hear your stepmother already yelling. To your relief, it was not you who was the victim this time as she entered each of her daughters' rooms, shaking each of them up from their dreamful slumber.

Bringing up a tray of breakfast to their room, you found a rather comedic scene where your two stepsisters were lying on one bed, still dozing off while your stepmother pulled both their sleeping bonnets off, letting the sunlight hit their faces causing their eyes to open wide.

"You two, I told you! Prepare immediately, we have no time to waste! The prince along with the duke's heir will be visiting each house around the kingdom to find that girl from last night!"

Chie just yawned at her, while Ai sleepily raised an eyebrow at that, covering herself with the blankets again without a care.

"Well...it's not like we're the girl, mother. Why should we care?"

"Now, you two listen! No one knows who the girl is, not even the prince who is absolutely in love with her. The only thing left of her existence is a glass slipper, and so by royal command, every maiden in the kingdom is to try on the slipper. And, whoever the shoe fits will be the prince's bride and the future queen."

Your eyes widened at that, feeling your legs weaken a bit at the revelation. Putting the tray on the nearby bedside table, your thoughts ran back to the previous night. A glass slipper? Surely...that was not yours, right? It's not like you were the only one wearing a very rare glass slipper that was probably hard to make without magic, right? And that mysterious man who you just took into consideration had a rather opulent outfit fitting that of a prince than a guard, was not really the prince, right?

You were probably just being delusional.

Well, you were not the best at manipulating anyone, much less yourself. Heaving a deep breath, you wanted to scream out a mixture of surprise and embarrassment at the fact that you talked and danced with Prince Seishiro all night, and by God did not even recognize him even though he was famed for his snow-white hair and skin, grey eyes and tall figure.

However, your stepmother's statement made you come back to reality. He was looking for you? And, he will arrive later today. Panic and excitement rushed through your veins. If he did find you, that meant you would get to see him again. Adding to that, you will also be free from your stepfamily.

It was the best of both worlds.

You were too busy thinking and daydreaming that you did not even notice that your stepsisters were feeling the same way as you, picking up their best dresses and shoes to wear, insisting you make sure all of it was perfect and worthy that of a future princess as if they were sure they will be able to fit into the glass slipper mentioned.

Walking to your room with a dazed look still, ready to start the chores they assigned to you. However, this vulnerability made you overlook a pair of eyes filled with suspicion. Following you to the attic, your stepmother watched as you glided across your room, humming the tune of the waltz from the ball last night while combing your hair.

With her suspicions proven correct, your stepmother took the key from outside her pocket and immediately closed the door on you, locking it. The sound of the door slamming alerted you, however you were too late as by the time your hand arrived on the doorknob, you were already locked inside the cold attic.

"No! You can't do this! You can't..."

As if breaking your heart and hope last night was not enough, she did it again. Taking it from you with a cold and heartless countenance. You wept behind the door, wondering why every time freedom dangled its hand to you, fate would always be there to let it get taken away again and again.

The moment the clock rang, signaling that it was 9 AM, the family was greeted by a knock on the door. Ai and Chie ran to the windows, jumping up and down excitedly the moment their eyes landed on a few guards sitting on their horses just outside of their door, in the midst of them was Lord Reo, and most importantly of all, the Crown Prince himself, Seishiro.

"Mother! They're here! He's here!!" They squealed, to which their mother just smiled, opening the door to see it was one of the captains of the royal guards, Sir Isagi Yoichi.

"Good Morning, Mi'lady! I apologize for the intrusion, but we are here in the name of the King and of course, His Highness, Crown Prince Seishiro to do the fitting by royal decree!"

After the speech, the ravenette stepped back to make way for the albino prince to enter. Everyone bowed to him in respect, and that included your stepmother and stepsisters.

"Welcome, Your Highness. I am Lady Kana, and these are my daughters, Ai and Chio."

The two maidens bowed, giving their best impression of a genuine yet charming smile which Seishiro just fully ignored. He just turned his head to Reo and the guard who had the glass slipper in possession.

Just from looking at either of the sisters, the prince can already tell that it was neither of them. However, it was written in the decree that every maiden in the kingdom must try it on. So he had to follow it even if he was sure it was neither of them. He can never forget your face, after all, not when it was the only thing in his mind the whole time they searched for you.

He just needed a reason for his father to push through with the search, instead of abandoning it all just for his father to arrange for him to another woman. That is why he is even doing this stupid glass slipper thing, and also so that he can visit each house to look for you, and he cannot really do that without a reason, can he?

While the guard called unto Ai to try on the slipper first, Seishiro could not help but notice the matriarch of the family, her face contorted in a nervous expression as if she were a deer caught in headlights. Sweat dripped down her forehead as she put her hands in each of her pockets as if she were checking for something that was not there anymore.

It may seem like it was just something trivial, but he can feel his gut telling him something else. Something much more complex than losing something random.

"Your Highness?"

He heard Reo call out to him. Seishiro sighed and whispered to his right-hand man.

"It's not them, but continue the fitting."

As everything was happening downstairs, you were busy looking through the keyhole to see your mice friends doing everything their little bodies could to get the key which fortunately for them was captured by their leader as your stepmother was heading down the attic stairs.

"No, no! Don't grab there, grab onto the left part of the board! There's a hole there. Just one more step!"

You guided them as finally, they sneaked under the door and gave you the key. The key to your freedom, this is it. Opening the door, you hurriedly ran down the stairs to the halls, your heart pounding in your chest. Was it out of nervousness? Excitement? Even a mix of both, you did not know, and you will not be waiting around to find out.

Peeking your head through the corner, you can see that almost all of the visitors from the palace you can assume, were out of the door except for one. That familiar messy yet soft-looking albino hair, the familiar white uniform, his tall build, and soft, hazy grey eyes.

No doubt, it was him. It was the mysterious man you talked to and danced with the whole night. For a moment, you felt your voice vanish due to shock and awe that you saw him again after thinking that the feelings you felt would just remain as those, feelings. With no way to ever let it out to the person it belonged to. That you will never see him again.

But now, here you were, a few meters from him, and it seemed like he felt you too because at that moment he turned his eyes to face you.

It felt like time itself stopped for a moment. It was only a few seconds but to the both of you, it felt like forever. And then, a small rare smile appeared on his face. Climbing up a few steps, he did not even hear out the complaints and explanations of your stepfamily about how you were just a maid and nothing more.

In response, you also walked down the stairs, where you two met at the middle of it. Gently taking your hands in his, he laid his lips on top of your fingers delicately. No words were needed, the air and the beating of both your hearts were the only thing that mattered.

Until finally, you cracked a bit of a laugh when he did not drop your hand from his.

"You know, I am a maid. My hands are pretty dirty, your highness."

You jokingly said to which he just smiled at, before shaking his head.

"Hmm, I think your hand is cleaner than mine, seeing as to how I am too lazy to wash my hands sometimes, you know?"

"Really? Not very princely of you, Your Highness. I am a little bit confused as to why you did not even tell me you were the prince. I thought you were just a high-ranking guard or something."

He raised an eyebrow at that, shaking his head while a small chuckle escaped his lips.

"My fault, it's not like you told me your name either. Isn't it a little unfair, dear princess? That you now know my name, but I don't?"

Your face flushed at that, recognizing that you in fact, never gave him your name last night at all, as well. But, what got you blushing even more was the nickname he gave you. With one last breathy chuckle, he finally led you down the stairs, hand still holding yours while guiding you to sit on a chair.

As Reo signaled the guard to try the shoe on your feet, everyone gasped when the prince himself took the shoe, kneeled in front of you, and put it on your foot. It was definitely a sight to see the crown prince kneeling before a maiden dressed as a scullery maid.

It was royal protocol that other than his father or any other king, Seishiro bowed to no one. It was the opposite, everyone should bow to him due to his position and bloodline, however, to him, you are the only exception to that rule. He was ready to stay on his knees for as long as he had to, just for you.

You taught him many things in a single night, that no one before had ever done. You changed his life and answered his questions on it, the way no one ever did. You connected with his soul and heart, two places of himself that no one ever managed to.

But most importantly, you taught him love. Love for what he had, love for those around him, love for himself, and of course, love for you.

It was no surprise of course, when the shoe perfectly fits you. The moment he saw your eyes up in the stairs hiding behind the corner, he immediately knew it was you.

His chest rumbled in a small and quiet laugh, one that only you heard. Finding his laugh infectious, you burst into small fits of chuckles as well, raising your eyebrow at the sudden outburst.

"What's with the sudden laugh?"

"All my life, I never believed nor even bothered with love. Yet, here I am. And besides, don't you find it entertaining and interesting too? That I found the love of my life because of a glass shoe?"

AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER, THE END.

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

[postmoe]

I find it attractive of a beta or alpha get turned into an omega if they get fucked to much. So what about yandere alpha geshu lin x beta/alpha male reader x yandere alpha jiyan. Or yandere Mydei x beta/alpha male Reader x yandere alpha Phainon. Reader getting turned into an omega so they can keep him all to themselves and maybe baby trap him 🤭.

dude i have so many beta fantasies it's not even funny. thank you for this opportunity.

non-con, abo, male reader, beta -> omega reader,

.

It was always the three of you; Phainon, Mydei, (Y/n). You went through training together, fought the hardest battles together, everyone revered you like you were unstoppable.

Well, everyone respected you in a passive/aggressive way because you were covered in the musk of two supreme alphas. Unfortunately for you, in the womb, you never grew to the next stage from being a beta.

Betas were pretty rare now, they started off as the dominant second gender, but as time grew so did the power of evolution. Everyone starts off in the womb as a beta, then months down the line you unlock your social status. Sometimes, you just get stuck as the runt. There have been few cases of people opening their second gender later in life, though only within a very specific fate of events.

It's not all bad. Apparently, Mydei's and Phainon's scent was so extreme that a lot of people couldn't stand near them for a certain amount of time. Alpha's get antsy, compliment or aggressive. Omegas have gone into heat on the spot, rolling over motionless as their hormones take over. Now, they're pretty good at controlling their smell, or so everyone says.

It never bothered you to begin with, your nose not suited to judge others. You couldn't read emotions if it wasn't present on their face, which in this day and age is more of a talent than anything; at least, that's what Phainon says to make you feel better.

For a beta to get this far in life is pretty astonishing. You realise you had a lot of help from your two friends. They've been able to sniff you out when you're in danger, or their scent that lingers on your clothes is enough to stop any intelligent bandit or monster. However, even when you're feeling down about it, even when the world criticizes you for 'using' two alphas to your advantage, they both have been there to keep you reeled in.

"Why do you even bother trying to lie to us," Mydei huffs, crossing his arms over his puffed out chest, "You have a smell, too. It's not like we don't know what you're feeling."

"That's unfair," you sigh, shoulders slumping, "Maybe I just don't want to talk about it, ever think of that?"

Phainon nods, his arms coming to drape over your shoulders from behind, rubbing his cheek against yours, "Everyone is allowed to have their secrets."

You roll your eyes, going back to polishing your sword with the rag while he lounges against you, "It's not even a secret, just the usual shit." You go silent for a moment, feeling their eyes burn holes into for more information. It should have been common knowledge by now that you won't get out of anything from them, so you gently place your sword down groan, "Fine! I walked past one of your fan groups today. An omega was saying how I was only holding back your true potential, that with me on the battlefield then you can't go all out."

Both of them opened their mouths to speak, you held up your hand to zip them shut.

"And before you say anything; yes, I know that I'm strong too. Yes, I know I can fight. Yes, I know they're just 'jealous' that I get to hang around you." You can't make eye contact with either of them, knowing that you might just crack if you do, "... It doesn't always help. I'm okay with that, though. This is the life I chose and I can deal with all the shit thrown my way."

Phainon buried his face in your neck, sniffling into one of your more sensitive parts, the scent glands. You shivered from the contact, he didn't seem to mind as he practically cried, "You're so strong, (Y/n)! But you know, you still have to take care of your mental health, too. I think you should stay away from those people for a while."

Mydei stood from his spot on the grass and walked over, ruffling your hair with his hand before dragging it down your face and to trace your neck, "We haven't been around because of the recent attacks, so our scent is waning from you. Here, we'll ward them off."

You shook your head out of their grip and rolled to the side, away from them, "I don't need you to scare anyone away by smothering me. I think your scent only makes them more mad."

"It's natural biology for an alpha to cover what's theirs in their smell, you can't just tell us to stop," Phainon argues, shrugging like it's the most obvious thing.

With a laugh, you stand and pick up your sword, "Since when am I yours?"

They both silently looked to each other, communicating in a language you would never understand. Mydei tells you, "You've been our beta longer than you've been alone."

"Yep~" Phainon teases, "Should have thought about that before you became our friend."

Yeah, right. One day these two will find their omegas, they'll create a beautiful family and you can be the cool, beta uncle that showers the kids in annoying gifts to rile up their parents. "Sure, whatever," you dismiss, now taking on an offensive stance, "So, we sparring or what?"

...

Storm season is fast approaching in this part of the land. You three had been sent out patrol the far, outer lands on a 'boys' camping trip'. The trek made you sweaty, the days humid and the nights cold, yet you didn't stop until you reached an open cave near the top of the mountain.

Forests surround you, rushing rivers and falls heard in the distance, and the sounds of insects chirping were drowning your ears. You had abandoned your shirt long ago, rolling yourself in insect repellent that did well to make your two companions scrunch up their noses in distaste.

As you set down the heavy bags in the cave, the sun setting in the distance, you noticed some faded, rock drawings on the walls. Walking up to them, you see crude images of stick figure deaths, a chimera with little hearts around it and a spurting dick. Phainon placed his hand on your shoulder, "Mydei drew the penis."

You both look over to see him skulling his sack of water, giving you both the middle finger. You purse your lips, "Even though I've known you for so long, it's always weird to see such a childish side of you."

After setting up camp, you realise how much you may have missed when you weren't able to accompany them on missions. This place is gorgeous, and they only tell tales of greater environments, it left you feeling a sense of awe and a pang of sadness. When they laugh together, bicker, playfully shove at each other, you can see it the way everyone else sees it.

Two, great alphas Mydei and Phainon - plus you. Little, ol' beta you.

It's nothing to get worked up over. Not a big deal, not an issue at all. You notice they've stopped talking and are looking at you with concern. Fuck. Why are you having this crisis now of all times? They can definitely smell you, they know what you're feeling and they're expecting an answer.

You smile at them widely, "Sorry, I just got lost in a daydream." Can they smell when you lie, too? If so, they speak nothing of it.

...

Being able to swim in such beautiful, clean water was a luxury you didn't know you needed. The baths and streams around Okhema were amazing, there's no doubt about it. Hot springs sent from natural sources, lotions and soaps created from the best ingredients, but this... This was something altogether new.

The water was a cold that made your muscles relax, the flavour refreshing and dare you say, curative. The sound was a delightful white noise of rushing water and splashing ripples from either of you or the fish that swim by.

On the shore, Phainon was the last to disrobe, the three of you deciding to skinny dip as a fun, good morning. You greet him with a smile as he resurfaces from bombing into the water, shaking your face of stray droplets, "Are you sure it's alright for us all to be here? I really think one of us should keep watch at the cave."

He lays on his back, closing his eyes while he floats around you, "Don't stress, there are others at points around the outer city. Someone is always watching from one direction or another."

"I see... I guess I'm just wor-" your voice is cut off as your ankle is suddenly grabbed and you're yanked down under the surface. You see the blurry image of Mydei, the red tattooed lines on his skin the main stand out for the fuzzy, underwater alpha.

The two of you duke it out - poorly - until you both resurface and you're gasping for air. He huffs out a breath of his own, hiding any semblance of exhaustion, "You're going to need to fight better than that if you want to get on our level."

As if coming to your rescue, Phainon swims over to him, "Oh, please, as if it's normal for someone to be capable of fighting under water." He then winks to you before shoving the blonde's head down, effectively drowning him out.

The three of you relax around the falls, floating idly in the water side-by-side. You think you could fall asleep, except your nose twitches at an interesting smell. You've smelt it before, very faintly and only when they really push it. What can be excruciatingly stunning to others, you only get a whiff of as a beta; the smell of these alphas.

Mydei and Phainon are a rare sort, extremely strong and capable of power beyond mosts comprehension. A few people are rare like that, some omegas even being too intoxicating for the outside world. It's a pleasant smell, to you, something you not-so-secretly indulge in whenever you get the chance. It also makes you feel slightly more normal.

You wade over and gently rest your head on the upper part of Mydei's stomach, closing your eyes and sighing happily, "I don't get why people can't be around you guys if you're too strong. I like your smell."

Phainon playfully pouts at you choosing Mydei, coming over to join you and rest his head on his chest. He inhales the Kremnoan's scent, smiling serenely, "Omega's and Alpha's never really stop developing their senses until their mid 30's. The older you get, even smells like perfumes can become too much, let alone the emotions of someone with tremendous power."

"Does that mean you guys aren't holding back anymore if I can smell you?"

Mydei moves a wet hand to pet your head, "We don't need to hold back up here."

"Besides," Phainon gazes at you with a fondness in his eyes, "It's nice to share something so personal with someone close, don't you think?"

They can't just relax like this around anyone, and since you all spend most of your time in the city, you hardly get a chance to get a whiff of them. A giddy smile decorates your face, your eyes closing as you relax once more, "Yeah, I agree."

...

On the third day you notice something odd. Your friend's seem to be more agitated, little offsets leading to snarling and biting, every twig snap or rustle has them staring in that direction in case of a particular threat.

You've never seen them like this.

They must be stressed by all the work that's been unloaded onto them. An argument broke out five minutes ago about something you didn't understand, the two deciding to take a walk to cool off and collect more firewood. You decide that this is the perfect time to help them out, picking up a sword and attaching it to your waist before heading out on a patrol. When you get back, they can relax at the duties already being fulfilled.

You don't know the area very well, however, you did accompany them the past couple of nights so you have an idea of where to go. You're not too stressed about getting lost, the trail somewhat visible to someone like you, who has been taught overcome these kinds of obstacles. What you didn't expect was that it gets darker quicker under the canopy of trees.

It appeared you had an hour of daylight left, yet only fifteen minutes later and you noticed a dramatic change. The mountains are certainly an interesting place to be, you're usually stationed closer to the city and nearer the fallen towns.

With the darkness comes fauna that arouse at night, a particular croak gaining your attention. You crouch down with interest, seeing a teal coloured frog with a lighter stomach hop into a puddle. It was smaller than the palm of your hand, yet the sound it made was so loud you would never expect it to come from such a tiny creature.

Your admiration was halted as you hear heavy thumping from deeper in the brush. It's fast, leaves and sticks being moved and thrown out of the way to make room for whatever is coming at you. You quickly draw your sword and take a defensive stance, readying for whatever may be in store.

If it's a boar or something similar, you could climb one of the thicker trees and make your way around by jumping branches. If it's something more like a giant bush cat, then you would have no choice but to fight it.

Turns out, it was neither. Before you had the opportunity to lay eyes on it, there is ablur of movement and your weapon is thrusted from your hand, flying off and landing into the dark distance. You're immediately incapacitated, wrist close to snapping and arm yanked back as you're brought to your knees.

Mydei is snarling aggressively in your ear, holding you down like some convict trying to escape. He spits his words like venom, "What the fuck did you think you were doing? Are you stupid?! Leaving the nest like that wandering off on your own!"

You cry out in pain as he tightens his grip, the sound and pheromones you let off making him back off slightly but not letting go.

Before you can ask what the hell is going on, Phainon appears behind you and walks around so he can kneel at your front. He tenderly cradles your face and looks over you for any other injuries, "Don't hurt him, Mydei. He made a stupid decision but it wasn't his fault."

A breath of relief leaves you when he finally lets go. You slump and cradle your aching arm, flinching when Mydei falls to his knees behind you and resting his face in the crook of your neck. He mumbles into your flesh, "Why did you leave like that? You could have gotten hurt."

With a new found annoyance, you flick Phainon's hands away from you and shrug the other off your back, "What the fuck??? Why are you both acting like I just up and left?"

"Because you did up and leave," Mydei growls, only halting when he and Phainon meet with a hard glare. He tuts and stands, making sure you have nowhere to run if you decided to flee, "We should have just been outright with him from the beginning."

You didn't like the sound of that. Without a word, you look to Phainon for an answer, Mydei is acting too impulsive for your liking right now. Phainon stands before you, both of them now crowding any escape with how close they are, "In truth, we brought you up here because we knew our ruts were coming and we wanted you with us."

"P-Pardon?" It was so incredulous you were sure you heard wrong. But, what else could he have said? "You do know what I am, right? We've only known each other for a couple of decades so be honest if you need a reminder."

Mydei scoffs and grabs you by the back of your shirt, hefting you to your tippy toes to growl, "Our Beta's got jokes. If you can jest then you can mate."

"WHAT?!" You kick your feet comically in the air, trying to find some sort of purchase, "I can't mate - I physically cannot mate! Not with an Alpha!!"

Phainon chimes in giddily, "Two Alphas! Don't worry, we'll ensure you're thoroughly pregnant by the end of this rut."

Body limits aside, being a beta means your reproductive organs aren't open to be used. They're sitting inside you, dormant. For some reason, you don't think they see that as a drawback, instead viewing your biology as more of a challenge to be tackled.

...

Day six and you're sore. Your legs, which have been in every position possible. Your arms, which are restrained when they're doing anything that's not fucking you. Your poor, poor hole, which hasn't been dry in days. Your oversensitive cock, now you can't tell what liquid comes out, your last orgasm streaming like piss on the rock below.

Phainon drags his hot, wet tongue up your neck, moaning as he slips his erected cock into you again. Your mouth hangs open, arse clenching when he's stopped by his knot hitting your rim. He's got you in a full nelson, your thighs over his own, a sound of discomfort coming from you at the stretch of his knot trying to enter you.

He shudders, lightly humping upwards, "Do you smell that, Mydei? He's changing."

Mydei flops his own dick in your face, tracing his leaking tip along the bone of your cheek before he slips his length between your lips, "How interesting. All our darling beta needed was a little push."

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as they fuck you again, your pretty, little hole gaping ever larger to accommodate them.

...

The cold, wet soil near the falls was blissful on your overheating skin. You've never felt this hot before, you assume it's a fever coming on from being under these two for however many days now. Mydei has you on your back, tongue swirling and mouth slurping at your puckered arse.

It was nice to just relax and be tended to, as fucked up as that seems. Phainon was behind him, washing his own body and admiring the scene before him.

Mydei licks a stripe from your hole, up the length of your taint and to your flaccid cock. He coos patronisingly, kissing the sensitive tip and making you jolt, "Poor sweetheart, have we been too rough with you?"

It's too little too late to ask you that now. You stick with your mission of giving them the silent treatment unless necessary, turning your head away and closing your eyes, thinking back on the coolness of the soil.

Until, "A-Ahh! S-Stop!" You moan, hands going to his hair and yanking as hard as you can, trying to stop him from swallowing your cock and drinking it over and over again. The way his tongue and cheeks move against your flesh has you throbbing and twitching in his mouth. "I can't, I can't," you breathe, swaying your head side to side as if to deny the oncoming torture.

But you can't, even half-hard he has you spurting your cum down his throat. You hold his head down with each half-hearted thrust, only to pull again before another tingling jolt of your hips.

When you can open your eyes again, you pleadingly gaze to Phainon, who had paused his washing to stare solely at you both. His eyes dart to meet yours, mind working overtime to bring him out of his daze and pull lightly on his companion, "Hey, save some for me, okay? Let him recuperate a bit."

Mydei flies his elbow back, not getting off you. At this, Phainon clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and locks the blonde's head with his elbow, flipping him back into the water.

You take a deep breath as they start to wrestle. Now you can rest again, you rarely get time to yourself now. When they sleep, sometimes, you're still plugged with one of them inside you, cockwarming throughout the night. Otherwise, when they go hunting, you might be tied tightly inside the cave, though there is usually at least one of them with you.

A gentle rain starts, the drops hitting your heated face. You need this, the rain a lot cooler than the falls as it collects in the sky. Lately, you've been feeling weird, unwell, hot. It's unlike anything you've ever experienced before.

Not to mention their scent. The boys' sweat, bodies, just everything about them is becoming less off putting and more desirable than ever. If you're honest, you're scared with what's happening.

...

They had both left you in the cave, the rain a perfect mask for hunting good meat right now.

"Need to keep our darling's energy up!"

You're not sure when, but some time after they left you were reeling in some sort of pain. Not like being slashed by a sword, or thrown by an enemy, but more like a strange punch to the gut. It blossomed within you and bloomed around your body, effecting your head and pelvis the most.

Breathing became difficult, your chest rising and falling quickly, you couldn't focus on how to fix it. No, not with the gnawing pain and discomfort in your gut.

You had wormed your way towards the entrance but the rope only let you go so far. They didn't give you enough leeway to get more than halfway through the cave, which meant you couldn't get any rain to cool you down.

What you did find, however, was their sashes they didn't wear today. Your nose twitched, and you reached your tied wrists over so your fingers could grab the red fabric and scrunched it to your face, moaning in absolute delight. Quickly, you secured the blue and gold one and weaved it between your legs, covering as much of your body as you could.

You're not sure when they came back, only realising they were standing ominously at the entrance of the cave when their musk started to seep heavier than the sashes you were breathing. The rain hadn't let up, both of them drenched and Mydei holding the antlers of a dead deer beside him.

Your jaw trembles, tears running down your cheeks as you whimper, "What's happening to me?"

It's only when you talk do they enter, dropping the carcass to the side before carefully kneeling down to cradle you. Your ropes are torn off and you sit between the two men, both leaning so they can run their teeth over the scent glands in your neck.

You whine as Mydei gently nibbles you, a low groan causing your cock to leak rivulets down your shaft, "Perfect for biting now."

Phainon reaches to gasp your cock, smoothly jerking up the length before circling his fingers along the glands, "I knew your unawaken second gender was this. You just had to be an omega, what with the way you were taunting us; begging to be bred."

Unawaken... Omega? No, that's-

"Hah~ Please..." You lift your hips when you feel fingers enter inside you, easily stretching you open now.

Mydei chuckles deeply, grinning at all the new possibilities going through his head, "Perfect for knotting now, too."

[stellar-bluelock]

until the world knows your name ☆ itoshi rin x reader

details: fluff | hurt/comfort | childhood best friends | platonic/romantic relationship | ~1.1k words | gn! reader | if there's something i wanted to tell rin after the u-20's match, this is it lmao

On the night of the U-20 vs. Blue Lock XI exhibition match, you will never forget the way everyone's jaw drops when you ask where Itoshi Rin is.

"Rin?" Someone asks in confusion. "You wanna see him?"

You hear the other members whisper, but you're not that surprised.

If Rin hasn't changed throughout his stay in Blue Lock, it makes sense for his teammates to question how confidently you request for his presence.

"Uh, he was in the locker room when I saw him last. I don't know if he's still there...or if he's in the mood to see any visitors?"

Ah. The celebrated striker of the night, Isagi Yoichi.

"That's not unlike him," you respond. "But, could anyone tell him that I'm here to see him?"

One of the blue-haired members volunteers—a quick memory of remarkable passing abilities flashes in your mind. He asks for your name before returning inside the main building.

The chilly air bites at your face as you wait. For a few moments, silence hangs heavy in the atmosphere.

Well, up until someone opens their mouth. The dam breaks.

"Are you Rin's friend?"

"A secret sibling we didn't know about?"

"Significant other?"

"Guys, don't bother them."

You chuckle, a little amused at their curiosity.

(You'll never admit it, but there's a selfish joy you feel from being someone that Rin can trust wholeheartedly.)

"Best friend."

Your answer effectively cuts off their stream of questions—for a few seconds, at most.

The concept of Rin having a best friend seems entirely foreign to them.

"You're..."

"Wait, they're looking for Rin, right? Not Sae?"

"Are you also friends with Sae?"

"What the heck happened between those two-"

Oh, that's not territory they can cross.

"I won't entertain any other questions, sorry." You smile, perhaps a little too sweetly. "But anyway, congratulations on the game."

Some of the boys pout at being denied the chance to learn juicy information about their teammate; thankfully, they don't protest.

"Thanks, it was a tough one," Isagi states and you nod.

This is the first time you've met the striker, but your gut tells you that he's Rin's newest rival—if Rin's glare at the end of the match was anything to by.

"Even I couldn't tell how it was going to end," you admit. "You all had me at the edge of my seat."

"I was lucky to be in the right spot." Isagi pauses for a moment. "But, it only happened because Rin managed to get the ball."

He smiles but it falters for a moment. "I just wish that he was a little happier about the win, but at least he seems fired up!"

"That's Rin for you."

"Are you talking about me?"

At the sound of a new voice, everyone's head simultaneously turns to the facility's entrance.

Rin's eyes are narrowed in suspicion, but you see the way they widen a fraction when they land on you.

(You're not sure if anyone ever notices, but you always do.)

"Yes. I was looking for you."

"You should've gone home. It's getting late."

A few scandalized gasps escape from the group, but a quick glare from Rin shuts them up.

"Uh, we'll leave you to it...nice meeting you!" Isagi laughs nervously, hastily pushing the rest of the team away.

You chuckle at the chaos while Rin scoffs. However, as the rest of the Blue Lock members disappear from sight, you can see his shoulders relax more.

It's just you two now.

As you look at his expression, you realize that it holds a wild mix of emotions. You can't tell what it is just yet.

So, you start with what you know.

"What did Sae tell you on the field?"

The frown is immediate.

"Piece of shit," he seethes. "Didn't even acknowledge me. Talked to me just to praise that stupid Isagi."

You click your tongue. When you were all kids, Sae was never the best with words and talking to others.

(Even then, you find yourself wondering what the hell happened to him in Spain.)

"Just because he scored that damn goal." Rin clenches his fists. "The whole team was centered around me and my attack ability. I got that ball!"

He lowers his head, shaking in frustration. "But nothing. Everyone's cheering his name. Even my shitty brother would rather talk about him."

Hesitantly, you reach a hand out to brush his bangs to the side. Out of instinct, you nearly want to tell him that everything will be okay.

That's what you used to tell him in middle school; a bad match, a bad score on a test, a scolding from his parents, a minor injury, even small arguments with Sae.

But now...those words feel empty. Not when his life has truly turned upside down, for better or for worse.

"Rin?"

He hasn't pushed your hand away, so you get a clear view of his teal eyes, round and unguarded—the very ones that have been burned into your memory for years.

"Although your team won, you have every right to feel frustrated."

He sighs. "Finally. I've had enough of them telling me to cheer up."

"They've been pestering you all these months, huh?" You chuckle lightly.

"I'm sick of it. They keep thinking we're friends. We're not. They're all rivals. It's bullshit."

You recall Isagi trying to hug Rin on the field earlier, only to fail miserably; you can only imagine his and the others' futile attempts.

"Well, whatever the case, stay true to yourself, yeah?" You punch his arm lightly. "You are Itoshi Rin."

Though he doesn't smile, something in his eyes lights up.

"I am Itoshi Rin." He says quietly. "I don't need him. I'm not Itoshi Sae's little brother."

It almost seems like he's saying it to himself instead of you, but his statement makes you sigh in relief.

It's precisely what you (and perhaps Sae) wanted him to realize all this time.

"Yeah. You were never meant to live in his shadow. You're here to make a name for yourself. Rin, do you even know how many people in the world tuned in to this match?"

He shakes his head.

"It's all over the news. It's being streamed everywhere." You smile to yourself, recalling how excited you were to finally see him again.

"But listen, Rin. You held your own throughout the game. You scored a goal. You blasted through the U-20 defense. You managed that one-on-one with Sae. There are people out there that have their eyes on you."

You take his hands into yours, squeezing them gently.

"Whatever you feel about this match today, tomorrow, a week, or months from now, you need to keep them watching. Score the next goal, keep on playing. Don't stop until the world knows your name."

[redjaybathood]

That's probably because deep down you are tankie-adjucent or just not that good at judgment, maybe your own colonial past influences things, but you don't want to admit it. I recognise this manner of talking over Ukrainians ✨ for our own good✨ or ✨for the fairness ✨ , completely disregarding the current dynamics or how russia utilizes it's culture as a tool of imperialism and colonialism.

But Idk, I'm not your therapist or your priest. Face your idiosyncrasies yourself. Do some soul-searching. Read some Ukrainians. Idk.

I speak two Slavic languages, freely read another, learning yet another: believe me, speaking a Slavic language doesn't make you a tankie. Scaremongering and spreading pro russian misinformation about Ukrainians does, tho, depending on your motives

Where did I say it's good or bad for Ukraine? I said I will not support anyone who does learn russian in our god's year 2025, voluntarily, because it's fun, like I wouldn't support anyone voluntarily walking into a gas chamber because they have a kink for asphyxiation. But that never happened, and people are really learning russian and sometimes even proudly so.

Am I, a Ukrainian who spoke russian before they ever heard a word of Ukrainian; who grew up surrounded by russian language - at home, on the streets, in school, in books, TV, radio, movies; who grew up being told that I'm a russian because Ukraine doesn't really exist, but also that I am less than russian, because I am not really from russia, that I am from small russia, which makes me lessser than the true russian; that if I want to speak Ukrainian, read Ukrainian, watch a TV show in Ukrainian, I'm at best laughable, a village person, but I'm probably a Nazi and should be shot for my language of preference; I, someone who lived under russian occupation where people disappeared for just wearing wrong colours, much less speaking the wrong language; I, who is living under russian terror of rockets and Shakheed drones - and I am the lucky one, I'm far away from the front line, it's just won't help me to get even one night of sleep because my city under attack daily; am I allowed to feel a certain way about this, or do I need your permission?

And I dunno about russian breeds being cancelled. Maybe you are talking about Caucasian Shepherd, restricted because it is categorised as a dangerous dog, long before 2022 or even 2014 (but be for real, nobody cared about Ukraine in 2014). It's restricted by Belarus, too - what rusophpbia is this??? That's sarcasm if you don't get it.

I do know about cat and dogs shows that allow russian breeders to participate, giving them publicity and new clienttele. Like here, 2023, Geneva, World Dog Show: https://www.onlinedogshows.eu/Content/Catalog/v2.8/#/menu/breedDogs/ru/2548/2847

You can go look through the full catalogue, I spent literally 5 seconds to find the first russians:

What long dead Ukrainian poets mistaken for a russian - except someone like Hohol, who was misappropriated as russian and never was a poet to begin with? And yeah, his surname never sounded russian. It sounded more like a slur on Ukranians if anything. What poets with russian sounded surnames cancelled? Unless you mean canceled as in killed by russia for, despite the surnames, not being russian like Mykola Zerov?

Or, from recent examples, Maksym Yemetz, or Oleksii Bezpaltzev, Yevhen Ponamoriov, Maksym Kryvtzov? And more, and more, and more: See for yourself in the "Nedopysani" project, to remember every poet and writer russia cancelled, permanently, for not being russian, for not speaking russian, for not writing in russian

What the actual fuck, really. Like, what?

there's literally no justification for giving people shit about what languages they've chosen to learn btw. some of you might not have dealt with it the same as i have, but it's been an annoyingly consistant theme in my life.

[tired-reader-writer]

Thinking about Wolfsong. I initially had Narsus only find out about the whole Gorgan fiasco after canon events start but recently, I've been kinda reconsidering it. Here is a dump of my thought process in no particular order:

So Narsus likely got the court position pretty soon after the whole Three Kingdoms Alliance thing

Shapur is likely involved in repelling said invasion because 1) Andragoras summoned pretty much almost anyone, and 2) it's coming from the east and his lands are in the northeast, Andragoras might want to mobilize the troops to... Peshawar, perhaps? Before the invading troops can penetrate too deep into the country. Many lords were called, yes, but someone like Shapur, whose domain borders Turk, could possibly be doubly expected to respond since this concerns his region. Just food for thought.

I'm not sure about Narsus' timeline in several parts. How long before the TKA was it that Teos died and Narsus became the new lord of Daylam? Was it then that he freed his slaves? Or was it after the TKA ordeal?

He pretty much self-exiled in Pars era 317, so at MOST he would've had two years. Did he live full-time in the capital? Did he ever return to Daylam, even if just briefly? The Daylami seemed pretty familiar with him.

Now that I think about it, Narsus and his mother (I need to name the lady) were kicked out by Teos' main wife and then were accepted back when the wife passed away some time before Teos' death, so maybe he got more time in Daylam than I thought. The problem is that I forgot when he and his mother were accepted back?

Anyways, this opportunity for an encounter between the two kinda offers me the opportunity to have them meet each other early. I am still contemplating what to do with it. Especially since a couple of the enslaved folk Narsus freed could end up in Gorgan's orbit.

There's no way the Gorgan folk could know about Narsus' abolitionist ideals until Narsus pulls that stunt of freeing all his slaves (I assume it happened in Daylam rather than the capital), I mean there's a small possibility that they might know vaguely but it's more likely that they straight up won't know until Narsus does the societal equivalent of kicking down the door and blasting a horn far and wide. There's also very little possibility of Narsus knowing unless Gorgan reaches out to him first— what with their operation being so hush-hush and crucially under wraps because of the Mardi's caution— and they wouldn't reach out before knowing that Narsus is trustworthy.

But after? Could Shapur possibly reach out? Maybe he would want his children to have an ally he knows can be trusted so they won't be so alone against the world. Would it even be Shapur who reaches out? Would it be Sadiq who advises Shapur to do so? Would it make sense for them to see a potential friend and ally and not take the opportunity, especially when Shapur has already cut ties with his relatives over the Isfan debacle and the region can't exactly trust other nobles willy-nilly. I don't know.

In the scenario that he does reach out and they do end up connecting with each other, what can I do with it? Narsus probably got the court position in 315, in my timeline I put down that Shapur becomes a marzban in 316 (age 32), after some ambiguous campaign that he was called to be part of, so he would have to go to the capital again. I did not find anything significant in the novel timeline in the year 316, so I wouldn't know what the occasion is. But in the hypothetical scenario that they're acquainted with each other by this point, what interesting thing can I do with how they view the capital? Does Narsus ever get to return to Daylam during his time as a court advisor of sorts? What could he do with this?

I have something vague pinned down for after when canon starts, where the Mardi folk (esp Khazān and Arslan? not sure yet) help Daylam defend against Lusitanians and encountering Irina and her crew + Kubard and Merlaine and things rolling from there— could that aid be rooted in a friendship established before that point?

Coordinating trade and stuff between the two regions could be pretty difficult if Narsus isn't there to manage the process, though. So I'm still not sure how it all works out.

In the scenario that there is a connection between Gorgan and Daylam, could Narsus possibly go back to Daylam after his exile instead of going to live on Mt. Bashur in isolation? Because even if somebody else warns him to be careful, I don't think it's possible for Narsus to stay quiet about the corruption and injustices in the capital and eventually he'd snap and get fed up and leave when his concerns go ignored.

I'm... still not sure what would happen after he goes back to Daylam (if he does) or why I'm contemplating this whole situation in the first place BUT here I am, pondering and contemplating anyways.

[pineconepie]

parental yandere guardian angel perhaps?? 👀

TW: Violence, infantilization, mentioned stalking(?), parental yandere, alcohol, attempted mugging

...

You drag out a long sigh, not bothering to look the presence you know is next to you in the eye. For days he's been following you around like some puppy looking for attention, and you're more than tired of it.

"I do not like these bars," Seradiel murmurs. "There's all sorts of harmful people around. Are you trying to make my job harder?"

"A pointless job, might I add," you chuckle humorlessly. "You don't need to watch after me like I'm some baby. And for the record, you don't need to be sitting next to me 24/7, either."

At first, you thought Seradiel was crazy when he claimed to be your guardian angel, but ever since you nearly got ran over from not looking both ways on the street, the dude had been following you everywhere like some sort of shadow.

He said he had been guarding over you ever since you were a newborn, but decided to make his presence known ever since that incident.

He would appear out of nowhere in your house while you were sleeping and making sure you're breathing right, or follow you on walks, protecting you from any potential danger.

Seradiel's frown deepens. "Either way, you won't approve. If I watch you from afar, you claim that's creepy; but if I make myself known, you get annoyed."

You give Seradiel a pointed look. "That's because most people don't have an angel follow them around all the time."

He shakes his head. "That isn't true. Everyone has an angel. Some are just less dedicated than I am."

A groan escapes you. What kind of excuse is that?

You wave him off. "Can you at least, I don't know, sit at another table? The waiters keep looking our way since they can't see you and probably think I'm talking to myself like a crazy person."

"No, they can see me. I just don't have wings in anyone else's vision," he claims. "They're probably giving funny looks because of our conversation."

"Whatever," you mutter under your breath. "Why are you so dedicated, as you claim?"

He ruffles your hair. "Because you're like my baby. Sure, you may have biological parents, but even they don't share the same kind of connection with you as I do. After all, I've been watching over you ever since your first moments of life. I've spent more time with you than anyone else on this Earth has. And you were such a sweet child. Sometimes I wonder if you miss those days as much as I do."

"Not at all," you mutter, even though that isn't true at all. "So you just watched me my whole life?"

"Of course. Therefore, you are essentially like my child. And no good parent would allow their child to wander around such a sketchy establishment like this." He motions towards the dimly lit, rather unimpressive bar.

"Any good parent would let their adult child do what they please, because they're an adult." You take another sip from your cup. The liquid burns your throat going down, and you almost immediately feel drowsier and more light-headed. Seradiel yanks the cup away from you. "Hey! What the hell, I paid for that!" You reach for it back.

"You've had too much already," he scolds. "Now let's leave." He grabs your hand and leads you out. With you stumbling after him, you finally make it onto the street outside and head home.

The walk is silent other than your occasional hiccup. But every few minutes, Seradiel makes sure you're still lucid.

"Just leave me alone," you whine. "Please. I want just a minute of independence, I can't do anything without you hovering over me! Is that too much to ask?"

Seradiel's eyes narrow. "Is that so?" Without warning, he lets go of your hand. "Fine. If you'd like to be a brat, we can play your game."

He disappears in an instant. Despite the fact that you were begging for him to stop being so clingy, you find yourself strangely unsettled at his departure, as if something's missing.

Nonetheless, you decide to ignore it; he'll come back eventually.

You continue your drunken stumble back home.

However, you barely make it another block before you hear the sound of footsteps behind you.

Normally you would've ignored it, but combined with how late it was and how sketchy the bar itself was, you pick up your pace. Whoever was behind you speeds up also.

Now more than nervous, you start running, not caring about how lightheaded you felt and how awful your body ached.

Whoever was following you started running after you now, and in the dead silence of night you can hear their rapid steps thumping against the ground.

Their heavy breathing rings through the air, and your heart drops when you realize they were gaining on you.

Before you knew it, a firm hand wrapped around your arm, yanking you to a stop.

The person has a knife, dressed in all black clothing, looking eerily similar to someone who was ready to commit murder.

"Empty your wallet now," he hisses. "And don't make any noise. If you try to scream, I'll cut off your fucking tongue."

You scramble to empty your wallet. There isn't much money in there, which just pisses him off.

"That's it? That can't be all you have," he snarls. He backhands you in anger, causing you to stumble back. You rub your face where he struck you, crawling backwards as he rummages through your things himself. However, he only finds a couple pieces of gum. He looks even more angered by this outcome, reaching for his knife again.

"Seradiel!" you cry out, shutting your eyes tight. "I'm sorry! Please help me!"

Suddenly, there's a gust of wind. Your eyes fly open, and in front of you is none other than Seradiel. He stands tall, looming over your mugger with his white wings stretching out like a curtain to conceal you. His golden hair shines in the moonlight. Although usually calm, his demeanor has completely changed.

His eyes are now slit into furious daggers glaring straight ahead at your mugger.

"What the hell..." the man mutters.

With no words, Seradiel reaches forward and grabs the assailant by the neck, throwing him across the road and into a wall like the assailant is merely paper trash.

Seradiel begins to stalk towards the mugger, who's coughing violently from the impact. "I usually hold empathy for criminals like yourself; just trying to survive. But then you decided to try and hurt my child," Seradiel growls. You've never seen such fury radiating from his usually calm appearance. He looks more than capable of murdering the mugger then and there.

The assailant scrambles backwards, attempting to stand. Unfortunately for him, before he can rise Seradiel is upon him again. The angel knocks the mugger off their feet and kicks them, sending them flying backwards.

He grabs the knife he dropped, twirling it between his fingers.

"Hmm. Should I kill him?" Seradiel asks, turning towards you. He doesn't even look remorseful. On the contrary, he looks emotionless; he doesn't care if the criminal lives or dies. It was like he was asking you to pass him salt on the dinner table.

"No," you whisper. "Please don't. I just want to go home. Let's just go home, please."

"Alright. As long as he apologizes." He turns back to the assailant. "Well?"

The attacker sobs and nods. "Okay! Okay, I'm sorry! I'll never do it again!"

"And give them back their belongings," Seradiel adds.

The mugger obliges and hands all your belongings back to the angel. Once Seradiel steps aside, he scrambles away until you can't see him anymore.

He turns to face you again, his expression immediately softening. You instinctively take a step back. Seeing him switch demeanors so quickly is shocking.

"My love," Seradiel murmurs softly. "I told you it wasn't safe here. Are you okay?" He approaches you cautiously. He takes out his handkerchief to dab the bleeding scratch on your cheek. Then he inspects you, making sure you haven't sustained any other injuries. "See what happens when you walk alone? This is why I need to watch over you at all times. Does that not make sense to you yet?"

He puts his arms underneath your legs and back, picking you up. You bury your face in his robes.

"I don't like bars," you mumble quietly. "I promise I won't go to another one."

"Not just bars. Everywhere is dangerous. It's a good thing I'm your guardian angel; the world would eat you alive otherwise," he mumbles. "Oh, little lamb. What will Papa do with you?" He kisses the top of your head while carrying you.

It's not the first time he's referred to himself as that word. Papa.

In some ways, it makes sense; he does act very fatherly and treats you like his baby.

Still, you have mixed feelings about him. You still can't wipe the vision from your mind of him brutally beating up your mugger just minutes ago.

"Aren't angels against violence?" you rasp.

He shakes his head. "Not in cases such as those. Angels protect others. Most just happen to use violence as the last resort. And I will always protect my children."

"How many children do you have?"

"You're the only one," Seradiel coos. "And trust me, I love you very much. I hope this was a valuable lesson for you."

You fall into silence once again, clutching his robes.

When you finally arrive home, he opens the door for you. "Is there anything you'd like to say?"

"...thank you, for protecting me," you mutter under your breath.

He gives you a smile, but it's far from gentle. No, it looks almost... proud, victorious. "Of course. Just remember that I'll always be here to keep you safe."

[doppleganger-rental]

This story about Gene Hackman has been making the rounds today and is well worth the read. I especially enjoyed it because I spent 25+ years in the movie theater business.

“When I first moved to LA, I had met a grand total of about five famous people. I was a manager at a General Cinemas in Sherman Oaks where we had a TON of famous people come in, both for special screenings and just as regular customers. I had to get used to it very quickly for that job.

Some of them were nice. Some of them were dicks. Some of them treated me like I was invisible. It was a real crash course in the way famous people interact with non-famous people.

After I'd been there a few months, I was opening one Friday morning by myself, and I was in the box-office, getting things ready. I looked up and Gene Hackman was standing at the window. Smiling. Waiting.

This was just after he'd had a very widely reported heart attack.

I walked around to the doors and opened them and invited him to come inside while I set up. He was the first person there, and he came in. I called him Mr. Hackman, but I didn't acknowledge him as anything other than a customer beyond that. Just trying to play it cool while screaming on the inside.

He spent about twenty minutes in the lobby before anyone else showed up. I told him I wasn't going to charge him, and we just chatted. He could not have been more normal or more approachable. We talked about how he was spending his "forced vacation time."

He told me that he was building an airplane with his son. Not a model. An actual working airplane. It was something they always wanted to do, and he found it relaxing.

He started showing up every Friday for that first show. Always by himself. Always before anyone else.

He did that for about two or three months. And in that time, I saw dozens, if not hundreds, of people stop him to talk to him. Every time, they were excited. And every time, he was an absolute champ about it. He talked to everyone. And really talked to them. He made them all feel seen.

One time, he was leaving a movie, and a woman walked up to him. "You won't remember me," she said, "but my husband..."

"... worked in the camera department on LUCKY LADY. I remember you. How's Dan doing?"

She was flummoxed. It was like he'd seen her yesterday. He did that to several people I saw.

When he started working again, he stopped coming in. I think he lived within walking distance, but he was on the road again and I don't think I saw him again the entire time I worked there.

But if I'd ever seen him again, I am confident he would have remembered my name. That's how he was.

Oh, and he's one of the five best film actors who ever lived.

There was that, too.

-Drew McWeeny

[jeongteen]

MY FAVORITE MODEL

Hyun-ju x gn!reader

Notes : I was playing around with that "relationships headcanons" website and had a prompt about one person loving to take pictures and the other one hating to be on camera, decided to write a little story for my lovely Hyun-ju (also I feel like we're getting less stories about her nowadays, I needed to react!) My requests are open for Hyun-ju and several other characters, just check my pin to see :)) Keep in mind English is not my first language so my apologies for any mistake <3

CW : low self confidence, fluff, comfort (let me know if I missed anything)

Summary : You love taking pictures of your lovely girlfriend Hyun-ju, she doesn't seem to appreciate it as much.

Words count : 505

It's a sunny afternoon. The kind of afternoon that makes you want to spend the whole day outside, surrounded by nature. And that's what you decide to do today. Hyun-ju loves these moments between the two of you, she can forget about the heaviness of life for a moment and just enjoy the warmth of the sun with her lovely partner.

In these moments, you love having your camera with you to take some photos. You love capturing the beauty of things all around you. You take photos of flowers, the sky, everything around you.

Your favorite subject is your girlfriend, Hyun-ju. Since the day you met her, you've been blown away by her beauty. Everything about her is so perfect. The way her hair perfectly falls on her shoulders, her little smile whenever you compliment her, her soft looking hands with her black painted nails, the way she dresses, the way her pupils dilate whenever she lays her eyes on you... Everything.

Unfortunately, Hyun-ju doesn't see herself that way. She has a tendency of dismissing her own beauty. No matter the amount of time you're telling her she's the most divine woman you've ever met, she won't believe it. Not that she thinks you'd lie to her, but she just won't allow herself to feel like that.

You absolutely love taking photos of her, but she doesn't like it as much. She will let you take 1 or 2 photos here and there because she knows how happy it makes you, but soon enough she'll hide her face with her hands, will gently ask you to stop or just turn away.

This makes you so sad, such an unconfident beauty. Sometimes you wish she could see herself the way you see her.

As you take another photo of your lovely girlfriend, she reacts.

— How about you put that camera down for a few seconds? She says that with a light chuckle because she doesn't want to offend you, but you know her too well and can sense she's starting to feel bad again.

— But why?

— Come on... We've talked about it already... She sounds so sad, you can't let her in this state of mind.

— Hey, Hyun-ju, look at me. You grab her hands in yours, caressing them softly. You look gorgeous, this dress compliments your body so well. I know you don't see yourself the way I see you, that truly saddens me. But you also have to know that no matter what happens, you'll always be the most divine goddess I ever laid my eyes on. If you don't want me to take more pictures today, I won't. But I'll keep on staring at the most gorgeous woman this world has known, because that's who you are and I love you.

You can see her blushing a little, she always does when you give her compliments, especially when she's not feeling herself.

— I love you. The way her whole face seems to relax while saying this... You truly are her safe place.

[canonkiller]

✨ "Your online print store is broken?" FAQ

Yeah I did that: A Summary

Q: Why did you remove everything from your Redbubble / INPRNT / etc?

A: A bunch of reasons. I made the choice for myself after thinking about it for a long time and not liking it. Some of these reasons include:

I don't like not knowing the workplace conditions or compensation given to the people actually manufacturing physical goods of my work through these services

I don't like the waste of easy-to-buy, easy-to-break manufacturing or the shipping process

I personally stopped giving a shit about the potential for theft-by-loss-of-potential-profit because it made me feel like a corporation and that sucked

There is no way in hell Redbubble will ever be profitable enough to get me to overlook this, and I don't think I should try to make it so.

The ones that haven't been emptied are having login issues. I'll be killing them as soon as I am able.

Q: So what's the alternative? How can I get prints now?

A: Anyone interested in prints can just ask me for the full resolution files of whatever piece you want and I'll send them over. Then you can either use your own printer or order something from a local store / chain and tada, print made.

In the future, I'll have the files up on Ko-fi (like the Avex body pillow) as pay what you want, so you don't even have to ask. I'd still prefer if you didn't make extras to sell for your own profit, but I can't stop you.

Q: But isn't that going to lose you money?

Probably, but the $20-odd I was making across all of my merch sites was not enough to overpower my concerns listed above. Someone tossing me $5 through PWYW is already paying me more than any of those sites would pet sale (Redbubble can be adjusted higher, but the price is already so inflated), and the end result is still more affordable for the buyer.

I also want my art to be more accessible to people like me: ones who can't casually spend $30 getting a piece of paper shipped internationally, but enjoy being able to experience shapes and colors. Differences between currency conversions, payment platform options and mail access are things I don't think should create a barrier in enjoying and adding art to your space.

Q: What about the other types of merch? Like clothing?

I've been keeping an eye on secondhand gadgets and would like to one day offer on-demand items with thrifted or secondhand base materials, but this is not a priority for me at this time. You'll live without a shirt, and if you won't, try an iron on transfer or whatever the modernized equivalent is. Anything I can't find a way to make, nobody needs to buy, simple as that.

The pin-back button press calls to me like a beautiful siren but I have yet to find one that is both affordable and close to me. The grind never stops.

Q: I also have concerns about the things you mentioned and want to try and be more accessible and sustainable with my art. Is it okay if I also do this?

I don't own the concept of sending people PNGs CMYK JPGs when they ask for them and even if I did I'm sure as hell not gonna charge people for doing it. The more people turning away from mass manufacturing the better, imo.

[caffinedragon]

Dante Ingelvar's LI is Emmerich.

Emmerich and his relationship is one of those actual true love relationships that come with knowing someone so completely that they know full well what they are getting into and they are perfectly fine with it.

The romantic and Sexual aspects of their relationship didn't fully developed until later in their lives but ever since they were young the two men loved each other very deeply and became eachother's safe space over the years.

Due to them essentally both becomeing teacher's at teh necropolis, Emmerich being a professot of the necromatic arts and Dante being the Martial Arts trainer, they don't get out on dates very often but when they do, Emmerich is the one who usually who plans it, mostly because DAnte knows how much he loves to go all out in romantic gestures and Dante is not very good at such things. Or at least not grand ones.

He tends to stick to more simple straight forward things, like going to the cafe they both like or spending a night in and cooking dinner, or buying a new book Emmerich was looking forward to reading.

When it comes to romantic gestures, Dante's only frame of reference is Emmerich the grand gestures he pulls and so, due to struggling with such things a.k.a. his attempts never working out, he is always worried that he won't be remoantic enough for Emmerich.

However, Emmerich only sets a high standard of romance for himself when ity come to gestures and often finds that he enjoys Dante's much more accidental and organic version of the same.

Which means, Dante is often romantic by accident.

For example, Dante is a man with his heart on his sleeve and will gush about Emmerich if given the oppurtunity. There isn't a person in or outside the necropolis that doesn't know they are together because of this. Not that Emmerich minds.

Secondary example is that Dante is very crow(as in the bird) like and often is a big gift giver. And so it is not unsual for Dante to come home from shopping, running excitedly up to Emmerich and go, "Hey, Babe, look what i got for you!" and then proceeding to go on a long explanation as to exactly why he bought it, reason inculding but not limited too...

You mentioned it in a conversation two weeks ago.

The color matches your eyes, hair, skintone, etc.

It reminded me of this time when...

And so on.

Every time he does this, despite Dante's own worries, never fails to make Emmerich melt into a puddle.

If they had unlimited time and money and no obligations, i believe the two of them would take a real sabbatical and then just not do a damn thing except each other and maybe go shopping or on a walk for a while.

They are both in their 50's and have lead very busy lives up to this point, they deserve it.

As for saying things, I can't really think of anything because Dante isn't one to hide his feelings unless he has reason. *Cough* Johanna *Cough*. Not too mention, Emmerich pretty much knows everything about Dante's life and he about his so, accept for the insecurities brought up in the game, there isn't anything.

As for family, they already did through Manfred.

My HC is that Dante helped find the pieces Emmerich ultimately built Manfred from and was his biggest hype man through the process. Even thoguh he couldn't help much on the magic side of things, his ability to sing wisps and spirits into bodies helped a great deal in tranfering the little curiosity wisp into the body they built.

Dante love Manfred as if he was his kid, just as Emmerich does and was often the only person Emmerich trusted to look after him when he had to go somewhere Manfred couldn't.

Beyond that, Dante himself is often responsible for more abandoned children to survive and over the years became a surrogate dad in the same way Vorgoth was to him.

So between them and Manfred, they already have one.

My HC for stuff they did that wasn't in the game?

Dante just completely crashing and using Emmerich's lap as a pillow, at every opportunity at the lighthouse.

All the naps. Always cuddled up to Emmerich in one way shape or form. Just all the snoozing.

Dante had very little sleep during the first section of the game due to a near constant state of overstimulation and stress. So, when Emmerich joins, one of the few people he feels safe being that vulnerable around, he constantly falls asleep on him like a cat.

And when he does, Emmerich makes sure that he isn't disturbed and often will not move until he wakes up on his own or there is an emergency.

Manfred is a very dutiful guard when this happens.

This is my Fav shot so far. I call it "Proud Dad's watching their son have the time of his life."

But since you can only see the back of my Rook i give you this one too for reference of what Dante looks like:

Rook Introduction Hour 2/14/25

Happy Valentine's Day! I hope everyone celebrating is having a wonderful time! 💞💖❣️🧑🏾‍❤️‍💋‍🧑🏿👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏽👨🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼💌🩵🫶🏼🥰💝💘❣️

How it works: I ask you a question about your Rook(s) and you answer it with as much brevity or verbosity as you desire. You can do this whenever you want, and I’ll reblog it + add some comments! There’s no time limit— if you want to do the older ones, they are collected here! (The post is updated on Fridays!)

🎶 L is for the way you look at me /O is for the only one I see /V is very, very extraordinary /E is even more than anyone that you adore! 🎶

Today's Question(s): NOW it's all about 💕Romantic love💕! Who is/are your Rook's LI(s)? Do they go on dates together frequently? Where do they like to go together? What's the most romantic thing that Rook's ever done for them? That they've ever done for Rook? If they had unlimited time and money, and no obligations, what would they do for each other? Is there anything Rook or their LI(s) want to say to each other that they haven't yet, for some reason? If they were to settle down together, would they want to start a family? Do you have any headcanons about anything they did together during the game that wasn't shown? And lastly, do you have any pictures of Rook and their LI(s) that you want to share?

Hopefully there are enough questions for everyone to find something they're excited about! Have fun, and thanks for sharing!

(Also, if you are looking for more DA themed Valentine's day content, taamlok made a new romance themed ask game, and corvus-frugilegus is sending silly valentines! And those of you playing on PC can also download the Veilguard of Love mod that metamancer-io made, and turn your Veilguard romantic! Hope you have fun!)

[penguinlife]

This insomnia is killing me.

This is totally my opinion. I strongly believe that Nic believed Luke and the dancer had broken up in NY. They did hook up on the WT, I believe she was under the impression that A was confused and that Luke had given her the wrong idea that they were more serious than what they were. Leading to all the mixed messages answers.

A resurfaced at the London premiere, and I still believe it was orchestrated by his sister Lauren.

Now, before the cray cray, Luke haters misunderstand me. Luke has some issues. He is truly a nice guy. And with nice guys, they tend to get into situations because they are trying not to hurt people.

He and Nic put some distance between them after the WT. It is easy for them to compartmentalise. Their feelings are just their characters spilling over.

The throwaway comment that Nic made about her being a 7 haunts me. It presents as low self-esteem. She knows she is a good actress, and she is happy to receive compliments when it has to do with her work, but she hates it when people comment on her appearance, good or bad. I might be projecting here, but it makes sense to me. Every time she gets recognised for anything, she pivots to someone or something else.

She loves Luke and cherishes his friendship. I think she sees it to be all that it could ever be. I have been in a similar situation. Again, I might be projecting.

He and A rekindled their relationship over the summer but parted ways again just before S4 filming kicked off. By this time, Nics walls were up.

After the new year, A again reapeared, this time at the family funeral. Again, I think Lauren was the person who invited her. Luke and Nic have been on a filming break. Similarly to the one they had in Nov/Dec last year. My guess is about a month. During this time, he and A started hanging out again.

This brings us to the SAG awards. I have a feeling A was going to be at least at the afterparty, but something last minute changed.

From the SAG awards red carpet, it did seem like it was coming more from Luke's side. Nic was more reserved. But their feelings for each other are real, and they can't hide it. Nic's walls are still up to protect herself. Yes, in my opinion, it was an overcompensation to follow A. Saying in a way that she won't let anything happen between her and Luke because, look, she is now friends with A. Also, I believe subconsciously she is forcing Luke's hand, claim A, make it official.

Now, I don't believe he will claim A. Actually, the opposite will happen. He believes himself to not be a pushover, unlike his character Colin. Because he is a truly nice guy, he acts out in a way that only hurts himself. Like how he took A to the Boss One event and the BAFTA afterparty. Someone most definitely in his team advised him against it.

Luke and Nic will be back on set tomorrow, and I believe they will confront what has happened.

Side note: Luke respecting S3/Polin/Nicola by not bringing A into the light has done what I thought it would. He has gained a lot of positive attention. He was essentially just part of the ensamble nominations, but he was as highlighted as Nic by all the major accounts. Yes, their interaction helped. But essentially, they only hugged each other. In of it self is super harmless and on the surface meaningless. It was the authenticity of the moment that made it blow up.

I listened to the Nikki Glaser episode of Armchair expert with Dax and Monica on my walk yesterday. She famously made a comment about Taylor Swifts weight, which was included in Taylor's documentary. She reflected on how it was 100% on herself. She was projecting as she was struggling with verious forms of eating disorders. She was jealous of Taylor, one for wanting to look like her and two for wanting to be her friend. She apologised to Taylor, owning what she had said. Taylor graciously accepted the apology.

I so resonated with what Nikki was saying. I gained quite a bit of weight in my 20s&30s because of some health issues. Not having the funds to see specialists. I have always been told I was pretty. Sinse from a very young age, but when my late father made a comment a few years ago that it is a shame that I gained so much weight, I am no longer pretty, shook me to my core. I never thought I was pretty. But I suddenly realised I was being treated differently.

Covid happened, I got retrenched and received a really nice settlement. Could finally afford that specialist, psychologist, and dietician. 12 months later, and I am back to what I weighed at university. It has been hard work. Commitment and determination. No excuses and being extremely hard on myself.

Something inside me has shifted. I used to be body positive. All bodies are beautiful and have value. But lately, I find myself thinking very harsh thoughts. When I see someone who is overweight, I judge them. If I can do it, so can they. Why are you not taking care of yourself. Your health is the most important. If you could just stop eating takeouts or sugar. This is me 1000% projecting. It is my own issue. I miss eating nice food. I miss having to just sit and watch movies. Not exercise. Sometimes walking 5km is absolute torture. Everything hurts. My energy is at 0. Every step is extreme effort. But I am being so extremely hard on myself that I just hate on everyone who gets to not do it. I can admit that. I don't go and speead that toxicity on other peoples posts.

These people hating on NIc or Luke, you are telling on yourself. It is not on them. We don't know them. We make assumptions and guesses, but at the end of the day, we only see glimses of them.

Before making that nasty comment, reflect. Are you projecting, assigning labels, and judging what is on the surface?

[sophieinwonderland]

The fakeclaimers still won't love you...

Here's another look into the bizarre pluralphobic culture of r/systemscringe.

The post itself is pretty par for the course for the hate sub.

A system on Tumblr made a funny joke about introjecting your therapist to save money, and the hate subreddit took it super seriously as they would.

There is a lot to be said about the type a pathetic person who would see this joke and immediately rush to post it on a hate sub to make fun of. It's gross. It's disgusting.

And it's not actually what I want to talk about here today.

No, what I want to talk about instead is the tag next to the user's name.

The "check user history" tag.

This is the tag that the ever-paranoid moderators have used to brand systems in their subreddit as fakers.

Don't take my word for what this means. Here is the original post where they announced the flair.

And by the way, if you are wondering if maybe this is normal... If maybe it's just part of Reddit culture that subreddits will mark accounts to be mocked and hated the moment you see their posts... Nope. My host has been on Reddit for years before I existed, and we have never seen anything like this in any other subreddit.

And for all of the talk of dehumization lately... I feel like this is what it actually looks like. This subreddit brands people of marginalized communities so that when you see them, you will treat their opinions as being worth less than others.

I don't want to make any severe accusations over this. Nor do I want to make any specific comparisons to anything in particular. After all, this is just a flair on a website rather than anything more serious.

I will only say that, historically speaking, the types of people who forced visual indicators onto marginalized peoples have generally been the bad guys. And maybe this isn't something that you should seek to emulate.

Again, I'm not making any comparisons here. If something in particular sprang to your mind, then you should probably do some introspection about the similarities you see here... That's all I will say on that.

But I will say that August isn't faking. I don't like August. I don't like August's friends. I have made that abundantly clear. Especially recently.

But I believe that they are a real system. I would believe that even if I didn't know somebody who knew them in real life and confirmed that they were diagnosed.

And in my opinion... Even after everything... They deserve better than a community that brands them as a faker.

Nobody deserves that.

And to any systems who are still on that subreddit to mock other systems, why?

Do you think that if you play their game long enough, if you hate yourself as much as they hate you, that they will ever respect you? Do you think that someday, they will see you as "one of the good ones"? As an equal?

Because let me promise you that they won't. The people of that subreddit will never see any systems as being worthy of respect. It doesn't matter how good you try to be. It doesn't matter how much you try to prove yourself by showing how ashamed you are of being a system. It doesn't matter how many other systems you sell out along the way.

You will always be less than a singlet to them.

[cumplane-forever]

dad aeroplane!'s not getting out of my head. so here's some notes that kinda pick up after the ending of this post.

later that evening, luo binghe is summoned to the bamboo house. the rumor has spread over the 12 peaks, so even the bullies give him pitying looks. lbh panics because he's certain sqq is going to take the opportunity to finish him off.

LBH stares at Shen Qingqiu. . "You want me to sleep here?" "If you ever take that tone with me again, I will cut your tongue out. And I won't repeat myself."

or maybe:

"You're actually my father?" SQQ curses the chain of events that lead him here. "What did I say about your tongue. I have only said that it might be so," he lies. "Your face looks identical to your mothers." Lbhs stony expression twists at that. His next question might have been whether he knew his mother, but the implications of what exactly sqq might have to say about his mother apparently help him keep his mouth shut.

SQQ decides that even if the protagonist hates the father who abused him, he can balance the abuse with help. an abundance of it.

maybe he starts out by arranging weekly teaching sessions in the bamboo house. the convenient little side room is converted into a study hall and he relentlessly grills luo binghe on whatever he's set him to learn by the end of a shichen.

luo binghe does not appreciate this. he's not allowed to do anything else in the house except cook for himself on the times he'll be late to dinner.

if he's allowed to stay in the bamboo house it is the same deal.

sqq forgets to consider how much he's come to think of the bamboo house as a sanctuary, he doesn't realise that Luo Binghe is learning his bad habits and tells, and he especially doesn't notice when he takes a bite of Luo binghes congee and mutters that it needs more flavour.

by this time it's been an year. lbh's revenge planning does not withstand in the face of his pettiness. the comment on his cooking is the last straw and LBH pesters shizun about exactly how his recipes and cooking.

this somehow leads to binghe realising his shizun's loser side and being deeply unimpressedTM with it.

my thoughts on how aeroplane would be as sqq are that on one hand he could fix pidw so well! but on the other hand.

(yk before i read the aeroplane extras i was convinced that aeroplane was sent early into pidw to repent or whatever. narratively you could argue that he's paying for sacrificing integrity for money.

but what about repentance for being evil? that villainous shit? idk i expected a plot twist where he knew that pidw was real all along and was paying for having written such an ending. so i'm just saying. maybe a recently dead aeroplane acted way more like bingge than would be good for anybody.)

anyways in this au he's just also anxiety, but overworked anxiety.

aeroplane pov:

on the other side of this there's a somewhat panicked 20-something year old who died alone and without closure. the only improvement in his life so far has been fresh food? clothes? the ability to touch grass maybe? if he isn't kept busy with strategising and scheming and fixing the shitty body the original shen qingqiu left behind he's having a crashout on a weekly schedule. so being nice to Luo Binghe isnt exactly easy, but being a deadbeat dad is out of the question when he's this close to changing his fate. Something he's learnt from his father's step children is that teenagers just want space and to be heard. So he. . does that. It's also convenient that the system has unlocked OOC, but only for luo binghe he's fine with that, as long asthe system lets him death glare back at the an ding peak lord when the man glares at him. oh yeah, and good food! kids like that right? cooking is a hobby he's always loved but never been able to indulge in. It's something of a learning curve to understand the mechanics of the xianxia kitchen, but there's only one hurriedly covered up(from the other peak lords) burning incident before SQQ proves to LBH he can in fact be trusted with a hearth.

any thoughts?

[hulloitsdani]

Fighting for your life with heroes against brand new ones that sweep your team. Henrietta lore? That power she must keep in check? Summoner just won't die. Only in some timelines. and badly. Sharena. Ragnorok?!?! Loki's shenanigans.

Thank you stranger! In no particular order, let’s go through these

First off, OH I LOVEEEEEE BEING IMMEDIATELY PROVEN WRONG ABOUT LOKI. FINALLY. THANK FUCK. The validation I felt when the question of her motives was IMMEDIATELY brought up this book. I don’t care that my read was wrong— what I truly wanted more than anything was something of more substance to read into. As for actual predictions, my bets are that her aims are on bringing about Ragnorok and the end of the gods. For fun. As a treat. For the silly.

As for the actual state of the game, idk man, I play this game weird. I’m both free to play and entirely causal, so it’s entirely up to luck if I ever have any relevant units. In my many years of playing this game, I have never managed to +10 merge a unit that wasn’t a grail unit. So I don’t tend to play game modes where that matters much, with the exception of aether raids sometimes. I like clearing the challenge maps and making the story mode levels really difficult by using strictly Askr trio.

For events outside of that, I have a lot of fun using about one team per six months and trying to creatively use them and their base skills to solve whatever new bullshit is added. The game is clearly not built for you to do that, but I like the challenge it poses. I got really lucky on the CYL7 banner and got all four of the guys from that event. Brave Robin, Corrin, Soren and Gullvieg was my go to team for wayyyy longer than it should have, especially with zero changes to their kits and no merges. Hell I didn’t even have dragon flowers on half of them because Askr Trio building has long stolen most of flower supply. But god was it fun. I know how that group of units play off each other like the back of my hand. And considering how most people tend to just be frustrated with this game’s gameplay, it feels like I must be doing something right. I am constantly broke tho, so rip.

On the lore side, Henriette and Gustav are such a fascinating two for one package for me. Marketable plushies often bought together please don’t separate. The :) to his >:(. They’re both are great rulers and loving partners, but fumbled a bit in their parenting in ways that make total sense. For you see, I am a firm believer that everyone walks out of their childhood at least a little fucked up. Even the best parents are still human. And I adore Askr’s royal family unit, because it digs into that idea! Henriette and Gustav weren’t abusive or harboring malicious intent, but they were neglectful and lacking in ways that cannot be denied. Which is extremely cool! More of this please and thank you.

Looping back to the quote in question, to be perfectly honest, I would be pleasantly surprised if we ever got answers for her day of devotion alt voice lines. However, Gustav having a wife with the power to kill him easily would be so fucking funny. Like father, like son. If your romantically coded life partner can’t theoretically ensure your body is never found, what’s even the point. She doesn’t even need to be secretly divine or anything— I would be satisfied with her being something as simple as an abnormally strong mage. She can accidentally fold people like an omelet if she’s not being careful. Which, now that I’m putting that into writing, might contribute to her relationship with her kids.

Speaking of, Sharena!!! My best friend Sharena!!! I’ve got a multitude of thoughts cooking for her, but currently the one at the forefront is making home girl jacked as hell. Not joking. Dead ass. We all know the role she plays on a personality level— she’s the heart. The emotional glue that keeps these loner trickster types together and in check. But considering that this is the theater of war and everyone else has a role to play, I think it could be interesting if she was the beefiest fighter in the Askr trio. She’s able to dedicate the time fully to that craft, you know? She’s not balancing the responsibilities that arise from being the Order’s commander, tactician, or right hand man/history buff. Not to mention she was trained to fight by Bruno, who presumably played the role of group muscle before her. Therefore, when it comes to feats of physical strength, Sharena should be the Order’s go-to lady! I think it would be neat! She deserves the ability to easily carry her commanding officer and beat Alfonse’s nerdy ass in an arm wrestle.

Last but certainly not least, summoner bad ends! What could possibly go wrong? A lot, apparently. And it happens much more often than you’d expect.

See, I don’t think it’s that the summoner cannot die. Polar opposite, if anything. Each success is built upon the littered corpses of millions of failures. This idea loops back to the alternate version of Askr the group finds in book 3. In order to defeat Hel, they must loot the corpse of a dead world. By its very nature, not every summoner has an alternate corpse to loot. At least half of all realities where the summoner exists results in death and ruin by book 3 ALONE. This is saying nothing of all the dangerous odds they must beat from then to book 9. Just pulling one example off the dome, in order to defeat Gullveig, they had to die a truly eldritch and inconceivable amount of times. But we the audience don’t bear witness to that. We get to see the one world with the one summoner who is hitting those fraction of a fraction odds. The universe’s luckiest bastard. Others are not so lucky.