#make no mistake the only reason i'm posting this is so that i finally stop thinking about it lol

[invinciblerodent]

"Neve" is Italian for "snow".

"Gallus" is Latin for "rooster".

She's a detective.

Ms. Snow Cock, the Lady Dick.

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 ICARIAN

FEATURING: beast dazai osamu

SUMMARY: dazai had known he was flying too close to the sun, he should have stopped himself while he still had the chance. {wordcount: 11.5k; fem!reader, romance & tragedy}

AUTHOR'S NOTES: installment fiveeeee otherwise known as part 2 of installment four LOL! ugh guys i'm dragging myself thru the trenches right now i'm so miserable - i wasn't even up to posting this today i won't lie but </3 i pulled thru </3 if only barely. fun fact this is actually only a 3 scene chapter but the second scene is just MASSIVE. i wasn't up to restructuring so you guys are just going to get it as it is. this is also unedited because i just wasn't up to it so bear with me regarding mistakes. JUST TO REMIND YOU ALL: the last installment is DELAYED - i have 3 finals next week and haven't had the time to finish it. it will be up by the end of may </3 sorry guys. wow this actually is attempt number three trying to post this correctly - i'm so shot

IMPORTANT NOTE FOR 17 & UNDER FOLLOWING THE SERIES: partially copy and pasted from badlands - if you guys read badlands, you know the deal. y'all knew what you were getting into. this is the smut chapter. but again, i'm not going to ask y'all to not interact/read a whole 12k chapter just because there's 4k words of smut, but i am going to say here the smut is in the SECOND scene. there is very little plot development in the smut itself, so i ask you guys, again, to respectfully scroll past it. i'll make the sentence when the smut starts red like this so you know that's when it starts, and then you can continue reading at the next divider. thank you for understanding! there is NO plot development in the smut, i'll reiterate that at the end where i put the summary in badlands, i restructured to make sure none of it was in it.

SMUT WARNINGS: unprotected sex, dazai cries </3 poor baby, sub!dazai, as always pussy drunk!dazai, bit of overstim on dazai's part too, jfhsuhdfsu i will say it starts on the bathroom floor so that might be a bit gross to some of you but dazai hardly even uses his apartment anyway so trust it's clean. bear with me. it just flowed from there i had to go with it. the story writes itself, i'm only the scribe. LOL let me know if i missed anything, i might have

SEE: UNREAL UNEARTH SERIES MASTERLIST READ: BADLANDS SIDE A

Dazai is hardly listening to the conversation at hand. They’ve been going back and forth for thirty minutes about inconsequential matters. Tolstoy is getting increasingly heated as he goes tit-for-tat with Nabokov, evidently the tripartite alliance between the Russian mafias is not quite enough to quell all of the bad blood that’s simmered between them, but something about the situation isn’t sitting right to Dazai. He can feel it in his gut, swirling in the depths of his chest—something is wrong but he doesn’t know what.

Mishima looks equally put out, gaze trained on Tolstoy and Nabokov’s conversation, occasionally looking back at his executives. Cao seems bored, head tilted back against the red cushions of the round booth as he smokes a cigarette; in all regards, he seems relaxed, but Dazai notices the way the fingers of his free hand are tense on the table, as if he’s bracing himself for something.

Something isn’t right.

Dostoevsky is cunning. Intelligent. He’s been lethally sharp in every universe that the other Dazais have encountered him in. He wouldn’t send Tolstoy and Nabokov into this meeting with them at each other’s throats like this without an ulterior reason. Dazai is missing something critical; he knows it’s not something as simple as wanting to give off the appearance of a divided front as means to get Dazai and Mishima to lower their guard. Nothing is that easy. There’s some ulterior motive that Dazai has to figure out.

Cao’s presence. Tolstoy and Nabokov’s blatant hostility toward one another. Mishima’s words from earlier, warning him that something seems to be brewing, that Tolstoy and Nabokov had been on edge since he arrived at the event hall. Dazai’s head hurts, and he can’t focus, not when you’re in the other room without him.

Already, he feels as if he’s been separated from you for too long, he’d been hoping this meeting was only going to last thirty minutes at most, and it’s been thirty minutes already and hardly any progress has been made. If Dazai didn’t know any better, he’d think that…

He’d think that Tolstoy and Nabokov were stalling.

At once, Dazai starts catching onto the things that he missed. The way Nabokov keeps glancing up at the clock on the wall above Cao. The way Tolstoy’s gaze keeps flickering to his phone. The way Cao’s attention seems to be elsewhere. 

Cao Xueqin. A Dream of Red Mansions. A scrying ability.

His heartbeat slows and Dazai blinks. Once. Twice. Blood roars in his ears as his gaze twists down to where his phone is laying on the table in front of him, on its face. Tachihara should have texted him to let him know that he got to you. Him or Chuuya. He usually reports to Chuuya anyway, so Dazai figured that Chuuya would’ve gotten the confirmation. He turns his head to the side to look at the executive from the corner of his eye, trying to keep his breath as slow and steady and natural as possible when he realizes that Chuuya is frowning with furrowed brows, looking at his phone. Unsure.

Dazia reaches for his own phone, fingers deceptively steady despite the way his insides are curdling with a sudden jolt of anxiety. His eyes zero in on the top right corner of his phone. No signal. Dazai has been to this event hall countless times in this life and dozens of others—there’s always service throughout the building. 

Unless it’s being jammed, that is.

Dazai’s blood runs cold, gaze dragging from his phone to the door that leads to the hallway connecting to the event hall where you are. He feels as if he’s been doused with icy water and lit on fire all at once. For a second, he doesn’t move—he’s not sure if it’s anxiety or fear, or both, but he knows it’s because you’re out there and Dostoevsky is plotting something while trying to keep him out of the picture in this meeting. 

He should have known better. Mishima had assumed that Dostoevsky wasn’t in the building—he had his three best scouts prowling the whole building trying to place the real leader of the tripartite but had failed. Nabokov had apparently told him that Dostoevsky had to stay back to handle residual business in Russia, a blatant lie, one that has had Mishima on edge all night.

The one with the overcoat. The clown.

Dazai stills as he remembers the white haired man who hung around Dostoevsky in some of the other universes. Not all of the other Dazais encountered him—in fact, Dazai thinks there were only half a dozen other universes where he met the man, he can hardly remember his name, but when he did…

Spatial linking. Of course Mishima’s men hadn’t been able to hunt down Dostoevsky. Dostoevsky would’ve predicted that the Sun and Steel would seek out the mastermind with their scouts. He used the clown to enter the building without anyone knowing after the scouts finished their hunt.

Dazai had missed a critical piece on the board.

Dazai rises to his feet abruptly, mind numb, eyes distant, and lips parted to speak but no words escape them. Tolstoy and Nabokov exchange a sharp, pointed look, pausing in their hostilities, and Dazai knows. He knows.

Dostoevsky is going after you. 

He hears Chuuya and Kouyou calling after him but it sounds like a distant buzz. His throat feels clogged, his heartbeat is erratic and uncontrollable, his ears are ringing. His surroundings are blurry, a part of him doesn’t even know where he is: the event hall, your apartment, in the cafe below the Armed Detective Agency, it’s all blurring together.

This is it.

His vision swims and his head spins. The hallway seems impossibly long, much longer than it was to walk to the room. He can hear Chuuya spitting curses, scrambling out of the room, and he’s sure that his other executives and the other mafiosos aren’t far behind, but Dazai’s mind is on a single track. He doesn’t know how fast he’s moving—fast enough that Chuuya is chasing after him but can’t catch him. Something is heavy and cool in his hand—his gun—numb fingers moving to click the safety off.

This is it.

He might enter that hall and find you dead, slumped over the bar he’d last seen you sitting at, blood splattered across your face. Limp, cold. Just like you were on your bedroom floor. In the booth at the cafe. He’s pulling you from the water. He’s screaming for Yosano when he’s with the Agency. He’s screaming for Mori when he’s with the Mafia. Sometimes he’s alone, and he has no one to call for help, so all he can do is hold you and cry. 

It’s his fault. He knew this would happen from the beginning. He knew that being with you would lead you to the same fate that you’ve met in every other universe because of him. He knew that being with you would be your death sentence, but he couldn’t stop himself. 

His vision swims again, the red and gold patterns on the walls of the event hall are indistinct blobs, he feels someone try to grab his wrist—Chuuya, probably—but Dazai rips himself free and pushes himself into the event hall.

He ignores the eyes on him and the way people all instinctively move away from the sight of him with his gun out, he’s sure he must look deranged but he’s hardly even keeping himself grounded to this reality. Pages pile around him, every single one has variations of the same scene that’s haunted him for almost eight years written on it; one is being written before his eyes, he can see the words appearing on the blank sheet. He needs to find you before it’s complete. He has to stop it.

His eyes cut across the room, toward the bar he’d last seen you at, and you’re there. You’re there. It’s almost enough to make him scramble to put his gun away, cover up his steep spiral of paranoia even if you are looking right in his direction and see the gun in his hand. He can hardly come to terms with the consequences of this, how you’re seeing him right now, because his gaze tunnels right in on the person sitting next to you and his world comes to a halt. 

He lifts the gun. He ignores as people shriek and scramble to the edges of the room. He ignores the look on your face as he moves closer to where you’re sitting with Fyodor Dostoevsky. He ignores the way Chuuya and Kouyou and Piano Man have all skid to a stop somewhere behind him, trying to figure out what to do. Dostoevsky’s hand is mere inches away from brushing against your body, it would only take the slightest movement and you would be dead. It would be a game of who’s faster: Dazai’s trigger finger or Dostoevsky’s ability. Dazai’s always been quick to pull the trigger but now, faced with your life on the line, when he should be at his best because of what’s at risk, he finds himself scared and unsteady. 

He can’t lose you. He can’t watch it happen.

He paces toward you slowly, steadily, he swears each step he takes echoes across the suddenly silent event hall. He doesn’t stop until the muzzle of his gun is pressed against the back of Dostoevsky’s head.

“Stand up.” Dazai’s voice is deceptively cold and steady for the rage and fear that’s clawing at his chest, threatening to take control.

Dostoevsky turns his head to the side to look at Dazai, faint amusement in his eyes. “Are you sure you really want to do this here, Dazai?” 

The mocking lilt his voice takes is almost enough alone for Dazai to pull the trigger. And if that wasn’t, the way Dostoevsky smiles at Dazai like he’s won is certainly enough to push him over the edge.

Before he can, he feels Chuuya grab his bicep hard. 

“You can’t do this here,” he hisses quietly. “If you kill him now on neutral territory, we’ll have all of the mafias in the Eastern Hemisphere coming after you and the government on your ass. You can’t do this here and you can’t do it in public.”

Dazai doesn’t care. He doesn’t care how many mafias come after him for killing on neutral territory when invited as a guest. He doesn’t care that the government will come after him for such a blatant murder. All he cares about is getting Dostoevsky away from you.

“Chuuya is right,” Kouyou murmurs, low enough for only Dazai to overhear. “We can cover this up as is. If you pull the trigger, there’s no hiding what happened here. You know better than this, boy. You won’t be the only person this affects if you do this. Think of her. She will be implicated for coming here with you. Lower the gun and let us handle sweeping this under the rug.”

Dazai can’t even bring himself to look at you. He’s scared of what he might find. But he doesn’t even consider lowering the gun, not until Dostoevsky raises his hands and slips off the bar stool to step away from you. Even when he does, Dazai keeps it trained on him, still tempted to blow his head right off his shoulders.

“I meant no harm,” Dostoevsky says smoothly. “I was intrigued, wanted to know the girl who’s managed to capture your interest. I must say, I see the appeal. Beautiful and intelligent, you have quite the eye, Dazai.”

Dazai’s lips stretch into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s not kind, and it’s mildly feral, and Dazai’s pretty sure he must look entirely deranged from the way Dostoevsky’s eyes widen in a mixture of surprise and entertainment, just enough to be noticeable.

“If you ever go near her again, I’ll put a bullet through your fucking skull, Dostoevsky.”

He should do it now. He should. Fuck Chuuya and Kouyou’s warnings, he should put a bullet in his head and be done with it, move onto handling Christie so that both of the major threats to your life are gone. But he can’t. If he takes this opportunity now, if he kills Dostoevsky so blatantly on neutral territory, the Pale Flame and Three Deaths will come at him in full force, and Dazai is sure the Red Chamber won’t be far behind them with Cao’s recent interest in expanding his business into Japan. And you’ll be caught in the crossfire of all of it, Dazai has ensured that by bringing you here. Dostoevsky must have accounted for all of this. He knew that Dazai would be put in a situation where either way, whether he kills him or lets him go, he’d be throwing himself onto a blade. 

Is that it? Killing you wasn’t the goal, was it? Exposing Dazai was. Forcing him into this impossible decision.

Did he really just fall into Dostoevsky’s hands so easily? Even with all of the forewarning the other universes have given him?

It’s you. You always make him reckless, his mind is never as sharp whenever you’re involved, muddled with thoughts of you, plagued with spirals of paranoia and anxiety that make him double guess himself. It’s like this in every universe—he becomes stupid, he becomes rash, he becomes careless. It’s you.

You.

Suddenly very hyper aware of your eyes on him, Dazai lowers his gun, gaze turning in your direction. Dostoevsky lets out one last snide comment, something toward you, telling you ‘don’t you see’ but Dazai doesn’t even process it, heart in his throat as he looks at you. He doesn’t know what he expects—fear, betrayal, even anger. He’s not prepared for the emptiness. He can’t read a single emotion on your face, your eyes eerily void of any feeling as you stare at him. 

He says your name quietly. His voice cracks. He should be embarrassed, so many people watching the scene play out, so many of his enemies and allies and subordinates, and he’s staring at you like a lost child with an unsteady voice, but he can’t bring himself to care. The fingers of his free hand are trembling, and the ones wrapped around the grip of his gun are so wound so tight that his knuckles are white. 

You’ve never looked at him like this before. Not in any universe. 

He thinks he might throw up. 

You’ve been mad at him before, scowling at him whenever he distracts you from your work and snarling whenever he makes messes that he never cleans up, but your eyes always stay soft in spite of the venom you spit. He’s seen betrayal on your face a few times before, screaming at him through tears when he got a bit too close to a successful attempt, cursing at him for trying to leave you, but you hold him so gently that it makes up for the harsh words. You’ve been scared of him once, when he lashed out so badly during one of his slumps that he nearly hurt you, but even then, you were more concerned for him then you were scared for yourself, speaking to him softly to settle him down.

He’s never seen this. He wants it to go away. Desperately.

“I’d like to leave,” you finally say after a few moments of silence, and your voice is so vacant of emotion that it leaves him feeling even more sick.

Dazai nods, because he can’t bring himself to speak. 

He holds his hand out for you, waiting for you to take it.

You don’t.

You haven’t spoken a word since the event hall, and Dazai doesn’t know what to do. He used to find peace in silence—for years, he’d become accustomed to it, isolating himself from everyone around him, keeping everyone at arm’s length. The most he ever spoke was a few sentences to give out orders to his executives; his voice had become hoarse and raspy over the years of self-imposed isolation, unused to being utilized. But the past few months with you have utterly obliterated any semblance of comfort Dazai had found in solidarity. 

It’s become entirely intolerable, the silence is making him sick with anxiety; he has hundreds of lifetimes worth of memories with you and he can’t even vaguely predict what to expect from you right now. You’ve been tense and cold since leaving the event hall. Dazai tried to open up a conversation in the car once but found himself promptly ignored. Chuuya tried to say something to you but only received the same cold shoulder. Even Albatross tried to lighten the mood when the four of you got in the car, but all you did was stare out the window with your back to Dazai. 

Now, you’re back up in his penthouse with him. You haven’t sat down. You’ve hardly budged from where you’re standing near the elevator—Dazai wonders if you’re scared of him now, if you want to be as close as possible to the only exit in fear of him lashing out at you. The thought makes him even more nauseous.

He doesn’t even know what to do with himself. He doesn’t want to sit down, he’s uncomfortable standing in the living room, waiting for you to say something, and he can’t bring himself to try to break the silence because if there’s one thing he learned very swiftly, it’s that he can’t handle being ignored by you. He’d prefer anger and hate to the stonewall iciness you’re giving him.

He can’t even fathom what you might be thinking right now. You’re not looking at him. You’re staring at the window that looks over the city, he can see the bright flashing lights from Cosmo World flickering faintly in your eyes. It’s so quiet that he can hear the distant honking of horns, police sirens coming from the streets below. 

He just wants you to say something, do something. Yell at him. Scream at him. Hit him or punch him. Anything is better than this. 

It feels like an eternity before you finally move away from the elevator. You still don’t speak, but Dazai watches raptly as you make your way into the kitchen. You fling open the cabinets, searching for something, and Dazai’s lips part to ask what you’re looking for but he decides against it. You stop with your jerky movements when you catch sight of the numerous bottles of sake Dazai has stored in his cabinets—room temperature, because Dazai can’t stand cold drinks, they make his teeth hurt. He watches you struggle to uncap it and his body itches to move toward you to help but he knows it won’t do any good. It’ll probably just piss you off more.

When you get the cap off, you’re immediately bringing it to your lips. One. Two. Three. Four large gulps before you put the bottle back down on the counter and turn to look at him. The emptiness in your eyes is gone, replaced by something caught between hurt and anger and betrayal. It makes his heart sink, but he thinks it’s preferable to the emptiness.

“You lied to me,” you finally rasp out, shaking your head as you pace behind the counter. There’s a whole length of a room separating the two of you and Dazai longs for your touch but he forces himself to stuff his hands in his pockets and keep still. “You lied to me, Dazai.”

“Osamu,” he corrects quietly without thinking, not liking the switch up. He’d finally gotten you to call him by his given name earlier in the night, he doesn’t want to lose it so quickly.

For the briefest of seconds, the hurt and betrayal in your eyes disappears and only fire rages in them. “Dazai,” you spit out pointedly. 

Dazai almost draws back, not having expected that. In all of the other universes, you’ve always been gentle with him even when you’re livid. You speak his name softly, even with a tight jaw and fisted hands—his given name, you’ve never used his surname against him like this before. Probably because most of the major fights he had with you in those other lives, it was months into the relationship; it’s only been a few weeks in this life so of course-

Dazai realizes, a bit dizzy, that he’s about to lose you.

You found out too soon. You found out through Dostoevsky, through Dazai's own loss of control. You found out in the worst possible way and you found out too soon.

Dazai is about to lose you.

“Okay,” he murmurs, not wanting to test your temper anymore, giving in as a means to try to soothe your anger, regardless of how much it might wound him because being wounded is nothing compared to losing you. “Dazai.”

His compliance seems to do nothing to quell your anger from the way you just scoff and shake your head again, looking away from him. You stare out over the city, dozens of emotions cloud your expression but Dazai still can’t predict what you might do next. He feels out of his depth, in murky waters with an anchor tied to his ankle.

“I knew it, you know?” you finally say quietly. “I knew it from the beginning, honestly, but I kept making excuses for you. I mean, the guns. The secrecy. You weren’t really subtle about it. Did you think I was stupid, or something?” 

“Never,” Dazai says honestly, without hesitation. He sees your gaze flicker down to the ground at his words, but you don’t make any move to speak again so he takes the opportunity to, in hopes that you’ll finally listen. “You’re the smartest woman I know. I-”

You interrupt him with a sharp laugh, it’s loud and almost cruel, and Dazai turns in on himself at the sound of it. He feels small and unsteady, like a child who’s being scolded by a parent. When you look at him again, your eyes are wide and wild, half-crazed in sheer disbelief. You don’t believe him. Of course, you don’t. It’s plainly displayed on your face. And why would you anyway? He’s given you every reason not to. 

“If you think I’m so smart, why didn’t you think I would figure it out?”

He tries to say that he knew you would. That he’s been living in fear for weeks that you’d finally see him for what he is but when he opens his mouth to say it, no words leave him. Like he’s frozen in fear, ice crawling through his veins, stones weighing on his tongue; he can’t respond, and he knows that he’s only condemning himself more. He tries to force something out but he can’t even make the barest hint of a sound. The mindkiller. He’s never responded well to fear, much less when you’re involved. 

You click your tongue, as if to solidify that his silence proves your point, or maybe you know what he can't bring himself to say and you just don't believe him. His stomach churns again, and dread spreads through chest when you say: “If I’m so smart, and I was going to figure it out anyway, why didn’t you just tell me?”

“You would have left.” Dazai is finally able to speak, but he speaks the wrong answer, clearly, from the way you let out another humorless, breathless laugh, eyes wide in disbelief. You look at him like he’s the most audacious man in the entire world. Maybe he is.

“Yeah, I would have,” you agree and Dazai flinches. “Without hesitation, without even looking back. And now, I can’t because you made me fall in love with you without even warning me about what I was getting myself into.”

Dazai’s heart should be leaping through the roof at your confession, but if anything, he feels even worse. His throat feels clogged and his chest feels so heavy. You’ve never regretted falling in love with him before. Not in any lifetime.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes out, because he doesn’t know what else to say. The words are still foreign on his tongue, he doesn’t think he’s ever apologized to someone in this life before the last twenty-four hours.

“No, you’re not,” you say bitterly, looking away. “Isn’t this what you wanted? For me to care so much about you that when you finally tell me who you are and what you do, I won’t be able to leave.”

Dazai stares at you, lost. He remembers how just the other day he was finding comfort in the way you could read him so easily, knowing he didn’t have to speak for you to know what he needed at the moment. He thinks he hates it now, because you’re finally reading deeper into his soul and seeing him for the sick, twisted monster he really is. Just like he feared from day one. Manipulative. Selfish. Undeserving. His fingers tremble in his pockets, nails biting into his palm so deep that he can feel blood trickling down his skin, but not even the stinging pain can distract him from the numbness spreading through him. 

“I didn’t-”

“Didn’t what?” you interrupt him. “You didn’t think I’d be upset? You didn’t think I’d be angry? Or maybe you didn’t think it would happen this soon? Is that it, Dazai? You thought you’d have more time to win me over in hopes that I’d take the news in stride. News flash, Dazai, no amount of time or charm would have made me accept this easily. Accept you easily. How could I ever accept any of this?”

Nausea rises to his throat so suddenly that he almost gags. He feels dizzy, taking a step back so that his back is against the wall, keeping him steady. Your last words echo through his head over and over again, he can’t escape them. The one person who’s always accepted him in every lifetime, the only person he was ever able to find a home in—how could I ever accept you? 

His cheeks feel wet, his eyes are wide as he stares at you. He doesn’t know how to respond to that. He doesn’t even think he could if he knew how to respond to that. His lungs are burning and his throat feels so swollen that even just the thought of trying to speak is painful. 

You let out a sharp breath, caught between a hysterical laugh and a sob as you press your hands to either side of your neck and pace across the kitchen. “What am I supposed to do, Dazai?” you ask, voice hoarse. “What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

He thinks it might be a rhetorical question, but he still forces out: “Don’t leave me.”

You scoff again, louder and harsher this time. Dazai’s eyes flutter shut as if to futilely minimize the blow. “I wish leaving you was still an option for me.”

Oh. He’s going to throw up. 

He wants to blame it on the alcohol he drank earlier in the night. He wants to blame it on the stress of the past few weeks. He wants to blame it on anything but this, even though he knows damn well that this conversation is what triggered the bile that rises to his throat. He forces himself to move, nearly tripping over his feet to get to the bathroom because he doesn’t want you to see him vomiting up his guts.

He hardly makes it to the toilet, crashing to his knees and clutching at the seat as he dry heaves. Nothing comes up—he hasn’t eaten enough the past few days to have anything solid in him, too busy with preparations—but he can’t stop gagging, eyes stinging with tears and throat burning. He doesn’t know how long he stays crumpled at the toilet, losing track of time entirely, a part of him just wants to stay there forever so he doesn’t have to go back out and face you. 

Evidently, he doesn’t have to go back out and face you because you come to him. 

He’s gagging again when he feels your hand brush his back, hesitantly at first and then firmly. Your touch is warm, and Dazai thinks he must look pathetic as he turns his head to the side to look at you. Your expression isn’t as harsh now, your eyes are still conflicted but your face is softer. After a moment, you take a seat on the floor next to him—you don’t say anything, but you let out a soft puff of air as you slip your arm around his shoulders once he stops heaving. 

He crumbles into your chest, body collapsing against yours. You wrap your arms around him, and at once, the numbness starts to fade away. His fingers clutch at your dress desperately, afraid that you’re going to disappear, but you only hold him tighter. You bury your face in his hair, forehead pressed to the top of his head.

“You’re so unfair, Osamu.” Your voice cracks, you’ve lost all of your fire, but Dazai finds no solace in it.

“I know,” he croaks out, throat scratchy and voice wavering. “I know.”

And then words are spilling from his lips before he can stop them, jumbled and hardly intelligible and he’s not even sure that you’re understanding what he’s saying but he can’t stop himself: “I tried. I tried to stay away, I tried so hard, you don’t understand. I knew it would turn out like this, I knew I would ruin you so I tried to stay away, but I’m selfish. I’m so selfish, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I knew better, I’m going to-you’re going to-”

The panic is returning, the words he wants to say but can’t push out are too damning: I’m going to get you killed. You’re going to die because of me. Dazai is breathing but the air isn’t getting to his lungs, his chest burns, and now even with your arms around him, the numbness is returning. It’s rapid now, spreading from his chest to his arms, down his abdomen to his legs; it’s going to consume him entirely, he can feel it, he can-

Oh.

Your lips press to his. Tilting his head back to angle his face up toward you, you lean down and press your lips against his, swallowing his words, his air, his panic. One of your hands cup his cheek while the other cradles the back of his head, Dazai can hardly kiss you back, his lips feel cold and prickly, but his eyes flutter shut as your lips move slowly and carefully against his.

Not for the first time, he thinks that he doesn’t deserve this. Especially not now. He tastes something wet and salty against his lips—he doesn’t know if you’re the one crying, or if he is, and he doesn’t want to know, so he forces himself to move. His arm feels heavy and clunky, and his fingers feel stiff, but he’s able to bring them up to your face, palms cupping your cheeks as the tips of his fingers tangle into your hair. He kisses you until his lungs are screaming for air, and even as he starts to feel lightheaded, he kisses you still, because your lips are the only thing able to push away the numbness overwhelming him. 

When you break away from him, you keep your foreheads pressed together, nose nudging against his. You share the same thin sliver of air and Dazai feels dizzy, he wants to kiss you again but he doesn’t think he’s capable of moving yet, so he only stays crumbled in your arms, waiting for you to grace him with your lips again. 

“I wish I still had the chance to be a better man,” Dazai says hoarsely, honestly, gaze searching yours desperately. “I would be. For you.”

Please believe me, he thinks to himself helplessly, because it’s the truth. He would try to be. For your sake. He might fail, he might be too far gone, his soul corrupted beyond salvation and his blood black beyond purification, but he would try. He would try so hard for you. But he can’t, not in this lifetime, not without risking everything he’s strove to protect since coming in contact with the Book. He has to stay the criminal, the monster, the demon so that you and Odasaku can live out your lives here. Until Dostoevsky, Christie, and any other person that could turn out to be a threat to either of you are killed, Dazai has to keep playing this role. He has to. 

You don’t respond. Dazai thinks it’s because you don’t believe him and it makes him feel sick again. His lips part to repeat himself but you only press yours against his, as if to silence him. 

You don’t believe him, the kiss confirms it, and his heart sinks but he can’t even bring himself to protest, to insist that it’s true. Instead, he decides if he can’t prove it through his words, he’ll prove it through his actions. Even though his limbs still feel leaden and clumsy, he forces himself into a better position, sitting up a bit more and bringing both of his hands up to cup your cheeks. He tilts your head back, leaning into you and slowly pressing you back against the floor and distantly Dazai recognizes that this is not the place for this but the thought is only fleeting, he’s too lost in the feeling of your lips against his and your body pressed to him.

And you let him ease you back against the floor. You let him tilt your head back and when his tongue darts out to swipe against your bottom lip, you part your lips for him. He doesn’t have to knock your knees apart, because you spread them just enough for him to slot his hips between them to keep your bodies flush. He wonders if you can feel how clunky his movements are—his fingers still feel heavy against your face and he can hardly hold himself up above you. He hopes he’s not crushing you with his weight, he might be, but you don’t seem to care. 

He pulls back to ask if you’re okay with this but you chase his lips and he lets out a soft, muffled noise when you tug gently at his bottom lip and bring your free hand up to cup the back of his head, fingers tangling with his hair, pulling him back down to you. You drag your lips from his to slide them down his neck to the edge of his bandages. He twitches a bit at the feeling, wondering if you’re going to ask to take them off, but instead, you just trail your lips back upward, nipping at his jaw, and he shudders.

And then he finally hesitates, pulling away and not letting you chase after this time. He weighs his options in his head anxiously. He feels like he should do something, that he owes something—a lowering of a mask, a show of vulnerability, you’re entitled to at least that much after everything he’s done. Aren't you?

You give him a curious look and he tries to respond—he does, his lips part for him to speak but nothing leaves them. He swallows thickly, eyes fluttering shut as he braces himself before trying again, bringing one of his hands to yours and wrapping his fingers around it gently, lifting it from his chest to the bandages covering the left side of his face.

“Take them off,” he tells you, voice hoarse and shakier than he would have liked.

Your eyes widen, and he shudders a bit when your fingers smooth against the bandages, uncertain. “Are you sure?” you ask him softly, bringing your other hand to his opposite cheek, cupping his face in your hands again, eyes searching to make sure he means it.

Is he sure? Dazai doesn’t know. He can’t speak again as he stares down at you; a part of him is nervous, and he doesn’t even understand why. You already know who he is, what he is, but a part of him still fears that once you actually see him, something will change. And it’s ridiculous, so many other universes you’ve seen him without his bandages and you’ve never made him feel uncomfortable about it. But you’ve also never used his surname against him during an argument in the other universes, you’ve never regretted loving him, and you’ve certainly never wished you could leave him. 

So, yeah, he thinks the anxiety of you removing his bandages and then seeing him in a different light might be more of a possibility in this universe than any other one. His body is more covered in scars than not, and he knows it’s not attractive; he thinks if he sees your expression shift in a negative way when the bandages come off, it might shatter him entirely.

Just the face bandages then, he bargains with himself, swallowing thickly as he forces himself to nod. You sit up from where you’re still laying back against the tiles, propping yourself on your knees to shift closer to him. 

Dazai thinks his heart might be in his throat when he feels your fingers unclip the clasp holding the bandages together around the left side of his face, eyes fluttering shut as you slowly unwind them from around his head. He isn’t sure why he’s so nervous for this part—there are no scars on his face, but he still feels distinctly vulnerable, like he’s giving you a window into himself that might reveal more than he means to. He can barely breathe as he feels the last of the bandages fall to the floor, he can hear you push them to the side. 

Still, he keeps his eyes shut, counting each second that passes. He’s anxious, can’t even bring himself to look at you until you cup his cheeks again. 

“Look at me,” you say quietly.

Dazai does as you ask, he always does. He doesn’t know what he expects when he opens his eyes to meet your gaze; he prepares himself for the worst, for a twisted expression or thinly veiled pity, but he finds none of it. Rather, your eyes are soft and fond, tracing over his face, looking between each of his. He can feel the pads of your fingers gently brushing over his cheekbones, tracing absent patterns.

“You’re so handsome, Osamu,” you whisper, one of your hands sliding behind his head, intertwining with his hair. “Why do you wear them?” 

Dazai doesn’t know how to answer that. His throat feels swollen at your words, eyes a bit misty and fingers trembling against your thighs. Instead, he breathes out, “Kiss me.”

And you do. 

God, when you kiss him again, it’s so intense that it has his head spinning. He doesn’t know how long he sits there kissing you, back against the cabinets with you half in his lap. It could be a few seconds, or a few minutes, or a few hours—he has no concept of time whenever his lips are against yours. It’s only when you press your hand against his shoulder, murmuring for him to get up, that he finally pulls himself away from you.

Dazai forces himself to push up to his feet—it’s much more difficult than he thought it would be, nearly tripping over his own feet, but you follow him up to your feet, steadying him when he almost tumbles over. You bring your hand up to rest against his cheek, fingers gently toying with the edges of his hair. He leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut for just a moment before he forces himself to look you in the eye. 

“You’re so frustrating,” you say softly, but all of the fire is gone, replaced by that same soft look you’ve directed toward him—not him—hundreds of times before. “You are so frustrating, Osamu.”

His throat feels tight again, the sound of his name on your lips causing a wave of warmth to spread through him, the numbness slowly subsiding.

“I know,” he whispers, swallowing thickly, and you sigh, gaze averting to the side for a moment before you look back at him. He still can’t fathom what you might be thinking and it scares him.

But then you kiss him again, your other hand coming up to his other cheek and his hands fly to your waist, holding you close. You walk him backward, out of the bathroom and into the hallway. His back hits the wall and you press your body close to his, and this time it’s you whose tongue is darting out to brush his bottom lip, urging him to part his lips for you. He does, and he thinks he might be in heaven when he feels your tongue dip into his mouth, sliding against his tongue. His eyes flutter shut, rolling back just a bit when you trace the back of his teeth with your tongue before sucking gently on his bottom lip.

Your hands slide down from his face to his chest, over his jacket, down to his waist. Your fingers hook in his belt loops and Dazai groans as your lips ghost from his down to his jaw, breath shaky as trail slow, wet kisses to the sensitive spot behind his ear. He can hardly do anything but follow along as you guide him from where he’s been backed against the wall into his bedroom, dazed and entirely consumed by your touch. His head already feels a bit fuzzy, breath hitching as your teeth graze his pulse point, kissing down to the edge of his bandages and then across his throat.

He barely even knows where he is until he feels the back of his knees hit his bed and he topples backward until he’s laying flat on it. His chest is heaving, head dizzy and breath shaky as you straddle his waist. You don’t kiss him again and Dazai wants to drag you down for another but he can’t even bring himself to move. His body refuses to cooperate, nervous that he’s going to make the wrong move.

“Do you want this?” you finally ask after a moment, voice raspy as one of your hands squeeze his gently, as if to get his attention. 

Dazai’s brows furrow a bit, lips parting to respond but for a second, no words leave them. You wait with the patience of a saint as Dazai tries to process what you’re asking and respond to it. After what feels like an eternity, he nods once. Of course, he wants it. You search his eyes as if to make sure he’s not just agreeing to agree, and once you’re satisfied, you continue you with: 

“And do you trust me?” you ask softly, your gaze gentle as it searches his face for the next answer.

Dazai doesn’t hesitate this time, and he speaks as he breathes out, “With everything.”

He can’t tell what you’re thinking, but your expression is still soft and your touch is still gentle as you run your thumb over his knuckles. Dazai doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the gentleness you show him. You lift your hand to cup his cheek and he leans into your touch, throat spasming beneath his bandages as he waits for you to say something. 

“Let me take the lead then,” you say quietly, his eyes widen a bit at your words. “I want to try something.”

He watches you carefully for a moment, guarded and studying you. He thinks this might be another first, and the thought alone makes him feel a bit giddy because he can’t recall any other life where you’ve ever been the one to take the lead like this, especially the first time the two of you sleep together. You look a bit anxious the longer he goes without responding, so he nods and says, “Okay.”

He’s pliant beneath your touch as you lean down to press your lips against his; he lets out a soft, muffled noise when he feels your hips shift, unintentionally grinding down a bit on his straining cock. He’s more hesitant this time in the way his lips move against yours, unsure of what to do with himself. His fingers twitch from where they're resting on the bed, itching to grab your hips but not wanting to make the wrong move.

This has happened every time one of you tries to take the next step, either he gets interrupted or he ends up getting cold feet because he’s scared of doing the wrong thing and making you uncomfortable. And it’s ridiculous because Dazai has so many memories, he should know at least vaguely what you like and what you don’t like but he thinks having the memories are a double-edged sword because he overwhelms himself if what ifs: what if he assumes you like something and you end up not liking it in this universe, what if he does something that you only liked after the two of you have been together for a while and you’re uncomfortable with him doing it because you’re not as comfortable with him. Maybe Dazai is just overthinking it all but how can he not when you’re involved. He wants everything to be perfect for you. 

“Is this okay?” you whisper, separating your lips from his just enough for him to answer your question. Your breath mingles with his and Dazai can hardly think straight; it’s hot, dizzying, there’s something so intimate about it that it makes his body fuzzy.

“Yeah,” he says, eyelashes fluttering as he looks up at you. “It’s okay.”

You kiss him again. His lips move against yours desperately, needy, he’d be embarrassed if you weren’t matching his energy, but you are. He can feel your fingers tugging at his hair, your hips grinding down against his. Every time you start to pull away, he lifts his head from where it’s laying flush against the pillows, chasing your lips. 

He needs you. His hands slide from your thighs to your waist, keeping your body pressed to his. He’s needed you since the day he came in contact with the Book and learned about you, since the day he met you at the club, maybe even since the day he was born even if he hadn’t known it at the time. He thinks his entire life has led to this, to the two of you being together; your souls have been entangled since the moment you were born and he isn’t sure how he ever thought a life without you was possible. 

“I need you,” he gasps against your lips, hips jerking up just a bit to try to alleviate the pressure building in his lower abdomen, desperate to reach down and unbutton his slacks, but wanting you to make the first move.

Whatever nerves that have made him get cold feet all of the other times the two of you have tried to take the next stop are long gone. You don’t give him any time to wonder if he’s doing the wrong thing—the fingers of one of your hands intertwining with his dark locks, just tight enough to make him hiss into your mouth, eyes rolling back at the pleasant sting. Your other hand slides across his chest, even through his dress shirt, your fingertips seem to scorch through to his skin, leaving his body tingling everywhere you touch.

“You have me,” you tell him, breathless, and Dazai can’t bite back the noise that slips from his lips, wanton and obscene, borderline pornographic—if he was any more coherent, he might be embarrassed but he can’t find it in him. Not when he’s finally getting what he’s wanted after all of this time. 

His hands fly down to his slacks, he fumbles with the button and zipper before yanking them down just enough to free his cock and he watches as you sit back on his thighs, eyes wide and lips parted as your gaze focuses in on his cock, watching as the leaking precum dribbles down his length, alongside the vein running along the underside of his cock. 

“Please,” he breathes out, fingers biting into your thighs as he bunches your dress up to your hips, another low moan spilling from his lips just at the thought of what’s about to happen, lashes fluttering.

You don’t even take off your panties, clearly driven by the same desperation that he is as you slide them to the side and position yourself above his cock and Dazai gnaws at his bottom lip when he feels the tip pressing against your entrance. He can feel how wet you are already, so drenched that your slick is dripping down the length of his cock. His hips stutter up instinctively, but instead of pushing inside, his cock slides between your folds and he whimpers, arm flying to cover the lower half of his face. You don’t let him, fingers wrapping around his wrist to pull his arm from his face and pin it to the mattress above him.

“Don’t hide yourself,” you say softly.

Dazai thinks there must be stars in his eyes as he looks up at you. You’re so beautiful, lips parted as you pant softly, an adoring expression on your face as you look down at him. He loves you. He loves you, god, he loves you more than he’s ever loved anything in his life; he thinks that nothing the other Dazais ever felt for any of the other yous could ever compare to how he feels for you.

When his tip starts to push into your tight hole, all he can let out is another loud, lewd noise; his head falls back against the pillows. His ears are ringing, but distantly, he can hear you gasp. His vision is blurry as he forces himself to look up at you but Dazai thinks you look otherworldly with your head tilted back as his cock starts to stretch you out, lips swollen and wet from the kisses you’d shared. He thinks he must look insane, pupils blown wide and eyes wild as he tries to focus on the sight of you. All of the clever wheels that usually turn within his mind are crumbling.

His fingertips leave crescents in your thighs as you sink down on his cock slowly—too slow, it leaves his head dizzy as your warmth slowly envelops his length. He’s imagined this so many times before. Dozens. Hundreds. He has so many memories of the feeling of your body flush to his, thighs over his shoulders as he fucks you deep and slow, swallowing your moans, but he thinks that nothing compares to this, the sight of you above him, watching your body tremble and face shift as his cock stretches you out. He barely refrains from letting out a string of strangled curses, barely able to hold his eyes open to watch you. 

You give yourself a moment to adjust, and when you do, you look down at Dazai. He thinks he must look a mess—chest heaving, breath erratic, eyes heavy and lidded and entirely glazed over—but he doesn’t care, not with the way your hand slides up his abdomen, fingers tracing patterns along the bandages covering his body. You look beautiful—you always look beautiful—but you look extra beautiful right now, and he thinks he could stare at you forever and never tire of it. 

Experimentally, you roll your hips—it’s still slow, agonizingly slow—and Dazai throws his head back, another obscene moan spilling from  his lips.

“Fuck,” he gasps, his fingers falling from your thighs to twist the sheets below him, knuckles white. “Feels so good. So good.”

You let out a hum that’s caught between a moan and agreement as you continue the slow rolls of your hips, hands sliding up and down his abdomen in a way that’s deceptively innocent and soothing compared to how his cock is dragging along your walls. His body shudders at the feeling of it, heat pooling in his abdomen so quickly that it has his whole body tensing as he tries to push it away. 

“You’re so perfect.” Words spill from his lips, more of a babble than anything else as you lean down to ghost your lips over his jaw, nibbling over the bandages covering his Adam’s apple. It bobs beneath your teeth as he lets out another shaky noise. “S’like you’re made for me. I’d do anything for you. Anything. You know that, right? Anything you want, it’s yours.”

He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, clawing at the sheets and occasionally reaching for your thighs, and he doesn’t know what to do with his body, hips jerking up at an erratic pace, like he’s trying to meet your pace but his body simply can’t match the slow rolls of your hips, desperate for more. He doesn’t know how you’re so put together—maybe you’re not, he can see through a blurry vision how your lashes are fluttering with each roll of your hips, breath shaky, but you’re just not as far gone as he already is.

“Anything?” you murmur, and he can feel your lips curve up against his neck.

“Anything.” His breath hitches, fingers reaching for your hips as he rocks his up into you, a desperate attempt to get you to pick up the pace. “���d give you the whole world, burn it for you, anything you want, I’d give it to you.”

His hands slide up from your thighs to your waist as you lean down to press your lips against his in a deceptively innocent kiss. He tries to chase your lips as you straighten up but you don’t let him, one of your hands curling around his throat—not choking him, but firm enough that it goes right to his cock, lips parting in a silent moan—while the other braces back on his thigh.

He thinks that nothing could have prepared him for the feeling of you picking up the pace. His breath hitches, he chokes over a moan, stars sparkle in his vision as the tip of his cock presses deep inside of you. You sigh out his name and Dazai thinks this might be the closest he ever gets to heaven: you on top of him, cock buried to the hilt in your cunt, the sight of your blissed out face above him as his head spins. 

“Oh, fuck,” Dazai cries out, back arching and hand flying to cover his face again but the hand you have on his thigh flies forward to snatch his wrist before he can, pinning it back above his head. Dazai’s eyes roll back, you’re leaning over him entirely now, leaning most of your weight on the hand that’s pinning his wrist but the new angle adds pressure onto how you’re squeezing his neck, paring his airways just enough to make his lungs burn. “More. Faster, fuck, I-ah-”

His voice falls off into another moan, head falling to the side to press his cheek against the pillow. He thinks drool is starting to pool at the corner of his lips but he doesn’t care, he can’t even think at this point, too lost in the lewd sound of skin-on-skin, the sloppiness of his cock fucking deep in your cunt, your soft moans and gasps, lost in the feeling of your tight walls clamping down on his cock, the warmth, the wetness, your fingers digging into his wrist and the sides of his neck. He wants to tell you that he needs more but the words are garbled, entirely unintelligible. 

He forces his eyes back open, feeling the tears spilling over his cheeks just from the intensity of it all, the intensity of you. You’re gentle with him even when your hand is wrapped around his throat and his cock is splitting you open—he can feel the soothing circles you rub with your thumb, he can see the way you’re searching his face to make sure he’s okay. Dazai is just so overwhelmed that he can’t stop the way his next moan breaks into a sob; acutely realizing just how deprived he’d been of any type of care or love before meeting you, and forcibly coming to terms with the fact that he is never going to be able to go without this again, without you again. He’d known it to some extent before this, the thought of losing you and the light you bring him has made his stomach churn violently but this…

He’s torn from his thoughts when you suddenly stop the rolls of your hips, halting the spreading heat in his lower abdomen desperately. The noise that escapes him is something caught between distress and betrayal, dark eyes wide as he looks up at you questioningly, but the expression on your face makes his breath catch. Your hand slides up from his throat to cup his cheek, your other hand releasing his wrist so that you can hold his face between your hands, thumbs wiping away the tears spilling over his cheeks.

Distantly, Dazai recognizes that he’s still choking over sobs and that’s probably why you’ve stopped and that only rips his chest apart more because of course, you’re still putting him above you—even when you’re mad, even when you’ve just fought, when he’s betrayed you in a way that should be unforgivable, you’re still kissing away his tears and putting aside your own needs to take care of him

He doesn’t deserve you. Not in any universe, but especially not in this one.

He thinks he could stay here for eternity. Fuck the rest of the world. Fuck the Port Mafia. Fuck his plan. He just wants to stay here with you, your lips brushing his, sharing the same sliver of air. He leans into your touch, groaning against your lips when he feels your walls spasm around him.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes out, unsure if you can even understand him. “You’re so-”

His words fall off into another moan, and he can’t control his hips as they thrust up sharply against yours, another string of incoherent curses escaping his hips as your breath catches and you straighten back up, head falling back as you gasp his name.

Your nails dig crescents into his upper thighs through his bandages as you brace yourself back against them. You move your hips again—faster, this time, harder, and Dazai thinks his head is in the clouds. He’s so deep inside of you that he can feel everything, jaw falling slack as heat spreads through his body too rapidly for him to get control over. He wants to throw a hand over his mouth to muffle the lewd, pitched moans spilling from his lips but he can’t drag his hands from where they’re clawing at your hips, desperately trying to help you meet him with each thrust.

“I-hah-shit, I’m gonna-fuck-”

He slurs out your name and several obscenities, trying to warn you that he’s going to cum when he feels his cock twitching inside of you and his abdomen tensing, but you only lean down to press a lingering kiss to the corner of his lips and Dazai is gone. He wants to watch you, he tries, but he can’t hold his eyes open, they’re half-rolled back as he chokes over moans of your name, hips stilling as he cums deep inside of you. His body twitches, expression twisted as he presses his head so hard into the pillow that he thinks he might permanently indent it. 

His head is spinning, lungs burning, sweat beading at his forehead and hair matted to his face—he thinks he’s never cum so hard in his entire life; all of the nights he spent alone, desperately trying to fuck his hand to the thought of you in attempts to mimic how you’ve made all the other Dazais feel, to give himself some semblance of the pleasure you’ve brought him in other lives to hold him over on particularly lonely nights, they’ve never felt like this.

You don’t stop, even as he squirms and lets out jumbled pleas beneath you, body shuddering at the overstimulation but you’re too lost in chasing your own high now. He spasms beneath you, nails digging into your thigh as you fuck his cum deeper inside of you, bouncing on his cock desperately. He doesn’t care that the sensitivity is pushing his body to the brink, letting you use him however you want if it means he gets to see you like this. 

Dazai’s head feels light, pins and needles pricking his body—he thinks he might pass out but he forces himself to hold on, enraptured by the sight of you on top of him with your eyes half-rolled back, lips parted and throat bared to him. Your tits are half-spilling out over the low-cut of your dress and Dazai thinks you’re fucking divine. The only holy thing in this godless world. He wants to spend the rest of his life worshiping you.

“I’m gonna-” you gasp, head falling backward as one final roll of your hips that has your clit grinding against his pelvic bone sends you spiraling over the edge. 

Dazai wants to sear the image of you behind his eyelids, watching as your nails drag against his thighs, drawing red lines even through the bandages, back arching, head tossed back—your body is trembling violently as you cum on his cock, expression twisted and entirely blissed out, sobbing over his name. He chokes and gasps at the feeling of your cunt tightening around his sensitive cock again, jaw tight and spots dancing in his vision as he’s so abruptly pushed over the edge a second time, the coil in his abdomen tightening and snapping all within the span of a few seconds.

He’s still reeling when he feels you slump forward onto his chest, burying your face in the crook of his neck, shivering in the aftershocks of your orgasm. He’s only half aware as he instinctively brings his hands up to rest on your hips, rubbing soft circles of your hip bones to try to soothe you. 

He shudders when you press a kiss to his neck right at the edge of his bandages, and then tilt your head up to press another on his jaw. One of your hands comes up to caress the back of his head, fingers carding through the dark locks in a way that has his eyes drooping shut. 

“We’re not done with this conversation,” you finally say after a few moments of silence, voice soft, breaking the silence. Dazai stiffens a bit, lips parting to respond but no words leave them. “... but let’s just lay like this for a while first, okay?”

He lets out a shaky breath, still not entirely convinced that he’s not going to lose you, so he lets his eyes flutter shut as he nods. He may as well bask in this for as long as he can, and if you notice the way his fingers dig just a little deeper into your skin after your words process, you don’t mention it. 

“Yeah,” he murmurs, “okay.”

Dazai wakes up the next morning and you’re nowhere to be seen. The bed is frighteningly cold next to him and his heart is instantly in his throat. He doesn’t waste a second before he’s sitting up in bed, looking around, eyes wild and heart racing. He doesn’t settle down, not until his eyes fall upon where you’re sitting curled up on the chair of the desk he never uses, eyes trained on the dark clouds outside the window, the beauty of the sunrise wilted by a morning storm.

“His intention was to make me leave you.” You’re not looking at him, but you must have heard him sit up. “Fyodor Dostoevsky. The things he told me, they were to make me leave you.”

Dazai doesn’t move an inch, throat swelling. He forces himself to ask, “What did he tell you?”

He isn’t sure if he wants to know.

“It doesn’t matter,” you say—Dazai thinks that it definitely does, but he bites back the questions that rise to his tongue because you’re clearly not about to budge on your answer. “Who is he?”

“A monster,” Dazai bites out, bitterness seeping into his tone as he leans back against the headboard, eyes still trained on where you’re curled on his chair, gaze distant. “You have to stay away from him.”

“Well, I didn’t intend on seeking him out,” you say it so dryly that Dazai nearly finds humor in it. Nearly. The smile that rises to his lips is mirthless at best. You turn to look at him, finally, and Dazai finds only cool indifference on your face; the fondness, the softness, the gentleness from last night are all gone. He wonders if you regret it, but he doesn’t let that thought linger, it’ll only make him sick. “... He doesn’t seem like the type to give up.”

“He never is,” Dazai murmurs, ignoring the brief, questioning look you direct toward him, mind drifting off to all of the Russian’s incessant attempts to take you from him in all of the other universes. “Did he tell you what his plan was?”

Dazai doubts it, but maybe there was something he said to you that shed some light to it.

“He didn’t have to,” you say quietly. “He wants Yokohama, for whatever reason—couldn’t figure that out, I think he’s looking for something—and clearly, he has to get through you to get it. He thinks the best way of getting through you is by taking me away from you first. That’s what I’d gathered from how he was talking at least, what he was saying about you, the way he was phrasing it. I’d put together enough on my own during the night to fill in the blanks. He told me things about what you’d done as… what you’d done as boss of the Port Mafia—things you’ve done to enemies… to allies. He told me that I’d see the real you as soon as you realize that the meeting he set up was a farce; that the mask you put up would crumble and I would see you for the demon that you are.”

Dazai doesn’t respond, jaw tight as he averts his gaze to the window—he’d played right into Dostoevsky’s hands. He can hardly bring himself to look at you; he wonders if you do see him differently now that the cloud from the night before has worn off, but he can’t bring himself to ask. Now’s not the time anyway, there are more pressing matters.

“... He’ll come after me again, won’t he?” you ask quietly. “Getting me to leave you willingly didn’t work. If he’s so set on me being the trigger to your downfall, then he’ll come after me again.”

He would. As he always has. Of course, Dostoevsky would try to get to him through you, he’s tried it in every universe, and Dazai hadn’t been careful enough. He hadn’t been smart enough. He’d known this was going to happen and was still arrogant enough to believe he could somehow prevent it. He was a fool, and he was a fool at the cost of your safety. He doesn’t know how to respond to you, he doesn’t want to confirm your suspicions, he doesn’t want to admit that this is all his fault, that he knew this would happen and was selfish enough to pursue you anyway.

“... I’m scared, Osamu,” you finally say quietly, and you suddenly look a lot smaller from where you’re sitting on his desk chair, hunched over with your knees tucked to your chest. “I’m really scared.”

Dazai’s heart claws up to his throat and he pushes himself out of bed, still dressed haphazardly in his suit from the night before. He makes his way over to you and kneels in front of you, hands curling around your ankles as he looks up at you.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he tells you, voice a bit more raspier than he intended for it to come across as. “I don’t care what I have to do to ensure it, how low I have to stoop. I will not let anything happen to you, do you understand?”

Your eyes meet his, and he can’t help but notice that doubt still riddles your gaze as you search his face, as if you want to believe him but can’t bring yourself to. A pit starts to grow in his stomach, wide and gaping as he realizes that this is all really about to happen, and one mistake on his part could lead you to the same fate you’ve met in so many other worlds because of him.

Finally, the doubt slowly clears as you let out a soft breath, nodding, and Dazai inhales sharply, laying his forehead against your shin as he lets his eyes slide shut.

He won’t let it happen. Not again. 

again there was NO plot development in the smut - you guys didn't miss out on anything, pinky swear. i restructured the scene to fit the only notable scene (bandage removal) into the part before the smut, so if that felt a little forced, that was why </3 it wasn't supposed to be there. i was struggling trying to figure out how to move it upward a bit. the only arguable "plot" development was dazai letting go of his control freakiness to let her take the lead

[blessedbucky]

based off my own thot because i saw a lack of tentacles in the satosugu/reader tag and took that personally! (i wanted this posted because the brainrot is real right now so apologies if there are any mistakes!)

pairing: satoru/suguru/reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: TENTACLES BABY, so...shibari-ish by proxy?, vaginal, oral, anal, this throuple do be a little fucked up but that's just jjk territory, satoru and reader seeing orders to kill suguru on sight and straight up saying "that sign can't stop me because i can't read!", some jealousy, a mention of exhibition, suguru lowkey being a daddy, i think that's everything

my thanks to @firefly-graphics for the header! i'm tickled pink by it!

I hate you!

There’s a hum, but you’re still not looked at. “Why, my dearest, are you looking at me like that? I don’t think it was me that put you in this situation.” Suguru flips to the next page in his book. His face hasn’t shifted once since this all started. He still wears that same blasé expression, as if he couldn’t be bothered with any of this. “If anything, I’m helping my sweet girl by teaching her a lesson.” Your adrenaline spikes when you watch him raise a hand. “You need to have a stronger backbone, dear…”

Just as you feared, Suguru flicks his fingers. The cursed spirit shifts as it’s commanded to, and the inky black tentacles move deeper. You didn’t even think that was possible! You breathe harshly through your nose as the heavy weight of the tentacle pushes further down your throat. You still gag. Tears blur your vision but it’s not enough for you not to see that Suguru is finally watching you.

Then, Suguru smirks. It’s that shitty, smug one. It’s bait, of course. It always is. That smirk is always followed by something said that’s so egregious that it makes you act up. And, sure enough, “You can’t keep letting our darling Satoru have his way.”

You’re letting him have his way right now, Suguru!

“Ooh, I know that look.” Suguru reaches out. You think that this is it! He’s finally going to touch you! Instead, he lovingly pets at his new favorite cursed spirit. “Let me guess—you think it’s only him that I’m indulging, is that it?” He chuckles at the widening of your eyes. “Aw, that’s cute. You really thought I wouldn’t find out about what you two little perverts are watching and getting off to together.”

Stalker, you think at him as if he can read your mind. Though, with how deep in your guts his curses are, you’d think that he’d be able to do that. Creep. Pervert. It’s not like these things bother you. You’re as half-mad as Satoru. Suguru makes you both so fucking stupid, so you two get home to your apartment, feeling Suguru’s residuals, and think it’s romantic. Right now, you’re just on the verge of breaking down because Suguru won’t touch you.

“I don’t like this attitude,” Suguru remarks. “Satoru is usually the bratty one. Look at how good he’s being right now.”

Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit! This is bullshit! The only reason he’s being so good right now is because you fucked him stupid, and you know it!

Satoru started this whole thing and he’s getting the praise now?!

In the middle of keeping your face pinned down against the mattress by the back of your neck and snapping his hips against your ass, that bastard had leaned over your back and started whispering in your ear. Let’s drop in on Suguru, hmm? It had been over three months since either of you had seen him. There was always this…unspoken rule that you and Satoru do not interfere in Suguru’s world. But then Satoru said, I hear he hired some bitch to be his assistant. We should totally fuck somewhere that she’ll find us. C’mon, baby, let’s make him pay attention to us.

Alright, yeah, maybe you do need to grow a backbone.

Though…it was really worth it to see that bitch’s face when she walked into Suguru’s office to find your head hanging over the edge of his desk while Satoru ruthlessly pounded into you. It was made all the better when Suguru slammed open the door about thirty minutes later and snapped at her to leave him alone. No matter how close his little cult followers or family get, he’ll only ever be fake smiles with them. And you’re as much a greedy little hedonist as Satoru is, so it’s nearly orgasmic to know that only you and Satoru can see every side of Geto Suguru.

You don’t quite remember what Satoru said when he mouthed off to Suguru. All you remember is that beatific smile of Suguru’s and his sugary sweet voice when he said, I see. I’ve been neglecting my darlings. Let’s go to my room, shall we? If you wanted to see me so badly, I’ll let you see me as much as you want.

Unlike Satoru, you had some sense left for you to nervously think, I’m in danger! Common sense flew out the window when Suguru slid one of those obscenely big hands of his under his yukata to tug it loose, though. You and Satoru followed after him like bitches in heat.

Let you two see him, Suguru definitely has done. You see each other, too. Satoru is the picture definition of lewd right now. You don’t want to imagine what shape you’re in yourself. You’re mirror images. On your knees, kept in the perfect pose by the one tentacle that’s wrapped around your ankles and wrists. It forces your backs to arch, putting your breasts on full display. A tentacle didn’t waste time before it was wrapping around your tits, too. Satoru got tentacles locking around his chest, squeezing so hard as to bring attention to Satoru’s pecs. Sensitive little Satoru started having the suckers of tentacles pluck at his nipples and the strongest sorcerer of the modern age turned into a whimpering mess.

The strongest sorceress of the modern age lost every thought in her head when all her holes got filled. A tentacle down your throat, one of the bigger ones thrusting inside your pussy, and another carefully pushing inside your ass. No prep. Even with the tentacles lubricated with something almost sweet, it burned. That just makes it better. Rough is the default setting when you three have sex. Gentleness only comes when you’ve all burned out that pent-up aggressive energy.

You and Satoru were okay with it, at first. That tentacle monster bursting onto the scene behind Suguru was like a wet dream come true. Hell, you didn’t even complain when Suguru propped himself up against the headboard with a book. None of you are a stranger to some edging.

Then, you and Satoru were two orgasms in, and the tentacles hadn’t budged. Suguru was making no move to do so, either. It’s become clear that Suguru’s affection is a double-edged sword. Suguru will spoil you and Satoru…and will turn right around and mercilessly abuse that gift to punish you both. Because Suguru knows how tactile you and Satoru are. You two crave touch, especially Suguru’s. To be denied it for so long…

Satoru’s lashes are clumped together from his tears. He’s overstimulated, exhausted, and silently begging Suguru with those shining blue eyes to end his suffering. You get pissy, though. The defiance and anger are meant to goad him because even a rough touch is still a touch.

“Ngh!”

Suguru isn’t falling for any of it. He snaps his fingers and the tentacles that he’d forced to stop moving about ten minutes ago start thrusting inside you. Satoru’s shout is muffled by the tentacle he’s been deepthroating. The tentacles go from zero to a hundred, pumping inside you at a pace that you both relish and aren’t ready for. Your eyes roll in the back of your head. Just before you come so hard that you’re convulsing and liquid gushes from your pussy, you feel the splatter of Satoru’s hot come across your thighs.

“Alright. No more playing.” Suguru gets on his knees, shuffling forward. He shoves his pants down in one fluid movement, his thick, massive cock slapping against his abdomen. He grips the base of it, holding it out in Satoru and your direct lines of sight. “Suck me off.” The tentacles in both your mouths slips away, leaving you and Satoru drooling and panting. “If you two can work together and make this real good for me, I’ll come in all your holes. How’s that sound, my loves?”

[k-germsworld]

Interview

Yuju x M! Reader

2.4k words

"WHAT !!! Rejected again." Yuju looked at the rejection letter in her hand and sighed. She sent her resume to many companies but was rejected without exception. "Damn it, is it that hard to find a job now?" She was fired from her last company two months ago. 

"Ring.....ring...." Her phone rings. She answers the phone and realises that it is her mom.

Mom: "Yuna ya, I heard from others that you were fired?" 

Yuju: "No, never. Mom, I'm very busy right now. I'll call you later." 

Yuju quickly hung up the phone. She didn't want her family to know that she was fired from her previous company, so she had to hang up the phone quickly. She also received many letters from banks telling her how much money she owed and that she had to repay it within certain time frames or face legal action. All these factors made her feel very stressed. She checked the time and realized it was lunchtime. Even with all the stress, she still had to fill her stomach to continue looking for the next job. So she headed to the nearby cafe. On the way, she passed by a notice board and saw a job hiring on it. That job hiring post is from a top company. It says that they are hiring a female secretary, and you only need to know a little paperwork, as long as you are willing to learn and do it. Salaries are up to 6 million won per month.  

Yuju was attracted by the job posting and quickly emailed her resume to this company. While she was having lunch, she received a reply from the company and they already arranged an interview for tomorrow.  She felt so happy that she almost cheered loudly. When she got home, she began to learn about the company so that she could be fully prepared for the interview tomorrow. 

The next day, she was well-prepared and headed to that company. When she arrived, she found that so many people were waiting for their interviews. Yuju looked like the last one to arrive, so she had to wait until everyone else was done. "Next, please." After waiting for almost an hour, it was finally her turn. After she tidied herself up, she confidently walked into the interview room. She saw three people sitting and waiting for her. The person who interviewed Yuju was not anyone else, but the boss of this company. 

"Good morning, my name is Choi Yuna. You can call me Yuju. I'm here to apply for the boss's secretary position." Yuju makes a simple greeting to them. 

"Have your seat please." The boss said. 

The three of them holding the resume emailed by Yuju. "Choi Yuna, 26 years old. The reason why you were fired from your last company was because you leaked company information, causing your company to miss out on a large investment. For this reason alone, our company should not hire you." The interviewer sitting next to the boss said.  

Yuju was shocked to hear this, they knew that the person who leaked the company information was her. She knew that this company was her last chance because other companies were afraid to hire her because of her previous company, so this top company was her last chance. "I can swear I won't make the same mistake again." 

"Why should we trust a guy who has no credibility?" The interviewer told her in a more stern tone. 

"I can do anything, as long as you give me this chance." Yuju please them.

"I'm sorry, miss.  We can't give you this job, please leave." The interviewer motioned Yuju to leave. 

"Ahem...." The boss's cough made them stop arguing. "Are you willing to do anything as long as you can do this job?" Yuju nodded her head. After seeing her answer, the boss looked at the other two interviewers and asked them to leave the room. After making sure the two interviewers had left, the boss stood up from his chair. Yuju is very curious about what kind of test the boss will give her. The boss stood in front of the table and took a look at her resume. "Yuju ssi, let me confirm with you once again that you can do anything just to get this job?" She nodded firmly and continuously. "Yeah, that's right. I'd do anything to get this job." The boss smirked. “Stand up!” She stood up according to the boss' instructions. He walked over to where Yuju was and looked her over. "Such a beautiful and sexy woman." The boss said in his mind. He lifted her face with his fingers. She shyly avoided the boss's eyes. "Yes, boss? So what can I do now?" However, the boss still didn't give her an answer yet. He walked up behind her and sniffed her hair vigorously. "Ah...ah. It smells so good." The boss spoke out what was on his mind, leaving Yuju speechless. "What is he doing?" She said in her mind. She was curious about what the boss was observing her for.  

The boss hugged Yuju from behind, scaring her. She tried to break free from him but the boss was too strong. “Hey, let me go.” His hands moved from her waist to her tits. His hands began to grope her tits. “This is what you need to do if you need this job. I am hiring a secretary just to please me and help me release my stress." Yuju finally understood why the wages were so high. “No, I wouldn't do this shit if I had to sacrifice my body." After hearing this, the boss let go of his hands. She was also confused at once. "Okay, you can leave now. Wait for our call." The boss pretended that he had not done anything to Yuju. She had no choice but to leave according to the instructions. Just as she took a step to leave, the boss suddenly said something to her. “I know you need this job, but no one in this industry will hire you if you dare to step out from this office. And everyone knows how you were fired from your last company.” This made her very angry, but she did not dare to contradict the boss because he was telling the truth. He went on to say, "And if you listen to me, I guarantee you'll get this salary easily. And you don't need to do much."  He knew that although these words were frivolous, they were a great temptation to Yuju. She gradually felt that what her boss said made sense. She really needed a job and money to pay off her debts, and she didn't need to worry about her mother.  "So as long as I listen to you, I can get a fixed salary of 6 million won every month?" She couldn't resist this temptation, so she thought about it for a while before leaving the office and said to her boss. The boss knew he had succeeded. "Yes, it's not a big workload. As long as you are willing to please me and help me relieve stress when I need it, you can easily get this salary." He went towards Yuju’s direction and removed her clothes. She didn't resist and let the boss do whatever he wanted. He touched her tits again. Yuju's tits were just the right size for the boss. He didn't like big tits so he did everything he could to keep her.

"Before you become my official secretary, I still need to test you." He glares at his pants, and seems like he wants to ask Yuju to help him to take off his pants. She understood what he meant, so she knelt on the ground and took off his pants. She didn't pull off his panty at once but she can see a bulge on his panty. Even though she hadn't seen the real thing yet, she was already surprised by the size of the bulge. "Continue!" The boss saw that she seemed dazed, so he reminded her. Yuju continued to pull his underwear down. This time she finally saw his cock. His cock was not as big as she thought it was, but thicker, so it looked bigger in his underwear. She slowly stroked on his cock. She felt very strange but had no choice but to continue in order to get the job. She used both of her hands to stroke his cock. Her hands were just big enough to completely encompass the length of his cock. So she began to stroke his cock up and down. While she was stroking, she also looked at the boss. He seemed dissatisfied with her performance and did not seem to enjoy it at all. 

Yuju knew that if she wanted to make a guy cum she had to use her mouth, but she really didn't want to put a dick in her mouth. “You‘re so sucks at pleasing me. If you want me to cum, you need more than just a hand job.” She continued to stroke her cock with her hand and ignored her boss’s mood. As she continued to stroke his cock with her hand, she began to get horny. She looked at his glans and suddenly felt like putting the cock in her mouth. Since she only wanted to use her hands, the boss was getting less and less interested in her, so he wanted to stop her. When he wanted to stop her, he found that she already slightly extended her tongue to lick his glans. She began to lick his glans with her tongue. She also began to slowly lick around his cock. "Yes, that's it. That's what you need to do to make me cum." It seemed that because of the praise, Yuju became more and more skilled at licking without realising it. She was able to take her boss's cock in her mouth and spit it out, while her hands played with his balls. She also took her balls into her mouth while her hand continued to stroke his cock. “Yes, you're a fucking genius in this.” She was very happy to hear these compliments. He saw her horny face, which made him pat his dick on her face. She lets her boss pat his saliva-covered cock on her face and she seems really turned on.

Yuju couldn't wait to take his cock in her mouth again. So she opened her mouth and waited. The boss saw this and stuffed his dick into her mouth. But this time it wasn't Yuju who took the initiative, it was the boss. The boss's thick cock kept entering her mouth, causing her mouth to be constantly enlarged by the thick cock. Although the length was not long, it could at least deep down her throat. The boss couldn't help it, he grabbed her head and started facefucking her. “OH fuck Yuju, your mouth is so hot and good on taking my dick.” She couldn't answer the boss because she could only make the gag sound. Her mouth was drooling but she enjoyed being facefucked by her boss. The boss stopped when he hit the deep of her throat. He enjoyed the moment when her throat was tightened and wrapped his dick tightly. She patted his legs when she almost ran out of breath. The boss realised and pulled his dick out. Yuju was panting so hard when he pulled out his cock. He is watching his dick is dripping with her saliva. He also saw that her chin was full of saliva, he went over and licked clean all the saliva on her face. They have a passionate kiss. She grabbed his face and didn't want to let him go, and put her tongue into his mouth. The boss also put his tongue into her mouth. He held her waist and slowly moved her to the table. He laid her on the table but never stopped kissing her. 

The boss took her bra off and ate her nipples. She was so aroused that she couldn't bear it any longer. “Just fuck me already, boss. Stop teasing me.” After hearing that, the boss couldn't wait to take off her panties and stuffed his cock into her already wet pussy. "You are so perfect, Yuju. Your pussy's shape is so perfect for my cock. I promise to make you happy every day if you become my secretary." After that, he continued to swing his hips and thrust into her. Before Yuju could even get used to her thickness, he was already pumping rapidly, and it didn't take long for her to squirt. He felt that she was about to squirt, so he pulled out his dick, and at that moment, Yuju squirted a lot. After squirting, she lay on the table and twitched. Her juices spurted all over the table and the floor. But the boss did not blame her. Instead, he looked at her glistening pussy that had just squirted and prepared for the second insertion. 

Before she could rest, the boss had already inserted his dick into her. This time the insertion was easier than before because she had just squirted and her pussy was wet and warm. "Oh, boss. You fuck me so deep. I can't......" She couldn't even finish her words because of the boss's skillful thrusting. "Ah... you suck me so tight, it feels so good." The boss hasn't had sex with a girl who feels so good for a long time, and he feels like he's about to cum. He grabbed Yuju's waist and increased the speed of his thrusts. "Yes.... boss. Fuck me like this. Ruined me with your dick please." “Fuck… Yuju… I am about to cum.” Along with the boss's moan, he also shot his semen into her body. He took out his cock and watched his semen flow out of her pussy. “It’s so hot inside me.” Yuju felt his warm cum in her pussy. The boss didn't want to cum inside Yuju, but she made him feel so good that he accidentally cummed inside her. 

She picked up some of the semen with her fingers, took a look at it, and then lay on the table, gasping for breath. "Is my performance okay?" He smiled and said: "You're hired, Yuju ssi." "Thank you, boss." He approached Yuju again and aimed his dick at her pussy. “This is your orientation party.” He smirked and inserted his dick in her pussy again. Yuju didn't stop him and they both had sex until both of them were tired.

[vettelsvee]

GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆ PART 5: I'LL NEVER LEAVE... NEVER MIND [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

goodbyes are bittersweet masterlist | wattpad f1 masterlist | ao3 | ask anything or let's talk!

ferrari sebastian vettel x ex gf!female reader

word count: 4437

summary: after not seeing each other in almost five years, seb and y/n finally meet with just one purpose for her: telling seb they have a 4 year old daughter. will y/n be able to tell him?

warnings: mentions of sex. i think nothing else but i literally cried while writing this. i recommend that you listen to loml by taylor swift while reading this hehe

taglist: [ @saltycomicsanimalssalad @hc-dutch @mycenterfold @simplyamberj @spitesfvl-blog @jaydaaasworld @lottalove4evelyn @zoeyjadetice2010 @jehun @ferralari @cosmoscoffeee @mcmuppet @myescapefromthislife @sleutherclaw @youre-on-your-ownkid ]

a/n: i'm finally back! sorry you had to wait this long to get a new chapter but writers block had me going like crazy, as well as my mental health in general. i had something else planned for today BUT be aware of what I'm posting tomorrow since you might like it! christmas is coming soon and i have a surprise ready for you. let me remind you that feedback and reposts are truly appreciated. and also comment me your thoughts and theories on the story pls! missed you so much guys, thank you for everything, love you all <3

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

May 15th Heppenheim, Germany

“Y/N, remember that you need to be careful with what you say to Seb. I know you want to tell him about Emily, but also consider whether today is the right time. Imagine if…”

You stop listening to Hanna the moment her lips utter your daughter’s name. Instead, your mind started creating a thousand different scenarios about what could happen when you saw your ex-boyfriend today. Your gaze remained fixed on the mirror in your room.

You only returned home five days ago, but it felt like an eternity.

You knew perfectly well why, or rather, you knew perfectly well who was to blame for your distorted sense of time: Sebastian Vettel, of course.

The trip to London felt like a fresh start. While the main reason to go was your meeting with Capital Records to discuss what your near future might hold, you considered it as an opportunity to rethink what you wanted to do with your life from now on. 

You had just turned 30, and the only thing you longed for was to start this new decade with a clean slate in every possible way. That, of course, included facing your past mistakes and recognizing your faults, one of which you might be about to commit today.

Hanna acted as some sort of mediator between you and Seb because, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t bring yourself to send him even the simplest of messages. The driver seemed to understand, as he told Hanna not to worry, that he understood, and that all you needed to do was show up without standing him up. 

Despite having agreed to meet at your house, you decided to dress up a little to present yourself in the best way possible. After spending far more time than you’d like to admit choosing what to wear, you settled on a light blue knee-length dress and white Converse sneakers, with a bracelet your daughter made (or better said your mother made, just Emily took credit for).

"Y/N, are you even listening to me?"

The reflection of your best friend in the mirror startled you. You turned towards her, trying to maintain the calm you’ve lacked since returning from London. Exactly five days that have felt like five years.

Like the five years since you last saw Seb.

"Hey, cat got your tongue or what?" insisted the blonde. "Seriously, Y/N, I want you to be speechless, but preferably when you and Seb take the conversation from the couch to the bed and he makes you scream his name again just like he used to do when..."

"Hanna, for God's sake, shut up! Seb and I are only going to talk about..."

"I know, I know, I was just trying to make you laugh. You know I like to..." 

Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

If you were restless before, pacing back and forth in your room, checking that there was no trace of Emily in the house for Seb to find, now you were frozen like a statue.

You looked at Hanna, and she looked back at you. You shrugged, but Hanna just put her exaggeratedly unfriendly faces.

"Hanna, no..."

"It's Seb, Y/N! It's just Seb, for heaven's sake," she interrupted, and you cut her off just as fast.

"It's the Seb I haven't seen in five years!" you stammered, feeling the anxiety taking over. "Seriously, Hanna, this was a very, very bad idea. I don’t even know why I asked you to tell him to come and..."

"Because he's the father of your daughter, and your only goal is to tell him!" she yelled, trying not to raise her voice too much but failing miserably. You hoped to God Vettel didn’t hear that.

"Hanna..."

"Since I know you're not going to open the door, I'll do it myself. Stay here or come down, do whatever you want, but I'll tell Seb to come find you because clearly, you can't handle welcoming your guest," she declared.

Without saying anything else, she strided out of your room. You could only follow her, practically tripping down the stairs, legs trembling like a teenager on her first date. Your pulse was pounding in your temples, while your mind kept screaming at your body to calm down.

As soon as you stepped onto the ground floor, you saw Hanna opening the door. Her cheerful voice broke the silence, asking Seb how he was and, to your surprise, inviting him in.

You inched closer, not quite enough for them to notice you. Then you stopped, inspecting Seb from head to toe, as if you didn't already know every inch of his body by heart. Even though you were used to seeing him on TV and social media daily, it felt like you haven’t seen him in all this time you’ve been out of touch. He was wearing a slightly worn-out white t-shirt and jeans. His hair was perfectly trimmed, though a bit longer on top, and his beard, probably several days old, was what caught your attention the most, looking just the way you liked it.

But what really captivated you was the bouquet of yellow tulips he was holding, just like he used to bring you for dates or whenever it was a special day for either of you back when you were dating.

You swallowed hard, guilt washing over you as you thought, for a fleeting moment, about him handing you a flower bouquet before you told him you were having his baby.

"Hi..."

You thought your whisper was too soft to be heard, but it was quite the opposite.

Both Seb and Hanna turned to look at each other, then focused on you, still standing in the entryway. Your best friend tensed up slightly, but you tried to reassure her with a slight movement of your hands. The expression on your ex-boyfriend’s face seemed to light up at your small intervention, even if it was minimal.

“Well, Seb, I'll leave you with Y/N. I have a few errands to run…” Your friend tried to excuse herself, though both of you knew it wasn’t true. “See you later for a drink guys!

She winked and quickly slipped out, shutting the door behind her before either of you could even say goodbye.

Now, it was just the two of you, alone.

Seb looked at you again, and you couldn’t help it but get lost in the blue of his eyes. The situation felt strange. You used to cherish every moment of being alone together, but now you didn’t even know how to say a simple "hello." 

You once trusted him completely, and now you were unsure whether to offer him a drink or tell him that you have a four-year-old daughter.

“Hi, sunshine,” he said, breaking the silence.

“Hi, Seb.”

He took a step towards you, slowly moving closer. You noticed how his gaze shifted from the flowers to your eyes, as if he was searching for some kind of answer from you. His eyes reflected a mixture of nervousness and tenderness, stirring a whirlwind of emotions inside you. 

He didn’t have to say it, you could see it in his eyes. He was afraid of how you’d react to this gesture, this little detail that used to drive you crazy, but now… you didn’t know how to feel about it.

You, on the other hand, were utterly stunned. 

How, after all this time and how cold you ended things, could he still do this? How could he still remember?

“These... are for you,” he finally said, his voice low and shaky. He handed you the bouquet, his hands trembling.

You met his gaze, and the way he looked at you was filled with fear, insecurity, and maybe, just maybe, a bit of tenderness. He didn’t need to say it out loud because you knew him too well. He was afraid of how you’d react to this gesture.

“Thank you,” you managed to say, taking your time to smell the flowers.

You couldn’t hold it in. Tears began to blur your vision, and a wave of embarrassment washed over you.

He noticed. Even though you didn’t want to, even though you didn’t feel capable of getting close enough to give him a kiss on the cheek or maybe even a hug, Seb did it anyway.

“It's okay, Y/N,” he whispered. “It’s okay...”

But it wasn’t okay… it was far from okay.

Sebastian Vettel was here, once again, standing in front of you, and possibly back in your life. The boy you once considered your best friend, the best friend you fell in love with, the driver you always supported, and most importantly, the father of your child, was back in your life in such an unexpected way that it still felt surreal.

“I don’t know...” you tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. “It feels surreal that after everything, after such an empty goodbye, here we are, together again,” you confessed. “It’s weird seeing you in front of me in the flesh and not as pixels on a screen.”

“Y/N…”

“I’ve missed you, Seb. So much.”

You knew your honesty didn’t catch him by surprise, because he felt the same way. That’s what hurt the most.

“I missed you too, Y/N. I really did...” he said after a moment, wrapping his arms around you, and you pressed your face against his chest.

“Seb…”

“Don’t overthink it, really,” he interrupted gently. “I’m not here to talk about the past or blame anyone,” he paused, letting out a breath before continuing. “I just want us to go back to who we were before we were together. But, if I’m being honest, we’ve been in love with each other for so long that I can’t remember a time when you weren’t my everything.”

Your lips trembled. The weight of his words was too much for you to handle, at least today, in a first encounter where you haven’t even spent ten minutes together.

You felt awful. You felt shattered inside knowing that if you were in this situation, it was because of you.

“Well, Y/N, tell me…”

“No, no,” you quickly interrupted, grabbing his arm and guiding him to sit on the couch. Immediately after, you rushed to the kitchen to grab the drinks and snacks you spent all morning preparing. “You tell me first. Even though I’ve seen you on TV, I know you’re very private about your life, you know... You never share anything with the media, and well, you don’t even have social media so… How are you?”

He let out a short laugh as he picked up a bottle of water and a cheese-and-salmon toast.

“Well, to be honest, I’m doing much better than when you left me,” he revealed. It didn’t surprise you. After all, it was what you expected him to say. “You must have had your reasons for breaking up with me, and after all these years, I’m not going to ask why you did it. But I won’t lie to you… you left me shattered, Y/N.”

“Seb, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“I know,” he cut in softly, making a gentle gesture with his hand to calm you down. “Like I said, I’m not looking for an explanation or an apology. I just want you to know how I felt. Mentally… damn, Y/N, you broke me, and I completely lost myself, but at the same time, that’s what gave me the strength to win the championship in 2013,” he looked away from your eyes, shifting his gaze to the wall. Nervously, he started playing with his fingers. “All I could think about was you and that, maybe, there was a chance you were watching...”

“Of course I was, Seb,” you said softly, trying to hold back the tears and keep your composure. “No matter what happened, I never stopped watching or supporting you. I’ve always been, and will always be, your number one fan.”

He nodded, a bittersweet expression crossing his face.

“That year, everything I did was with the thought in mind that you were watching and, somehow, it helped me move forward. But… 2014 was when everything fell apart,” he admitted. “Red Bull wasn’t the same anymore, or at least, I didn’t feel the same way. I wasn’t winning, Daniel was beating me… I felt like I had lost everything, including you and, with time, I started to feel like I had no reason to stay with the team or maybe even in Formula 1. Until Ferrari offered me the contract.”

You remembered it like it was yesterday. Unlike any regular sports fan, you found out through Heike when you were out for a walk with Emily.

“When I was given the chance to sign with Ferrari in 2015... Y/N, really, that’s when I realized it wasn’t the end. That’s what I needed to move forward. I think I mentioned it to you on WhatsApp, but I don’t know if you remember…”

You swallowed hard. Of course, you remembered. He told you just before the news became public, before his mum told you, but you didn’t know how to answer him or if you really should do it. The demons in your head made you think it was a joke, even just an excuse to get closer to you. And you also felt that if he did sign with Ferrari, it would open a door you had closed because you weren’t ready to face the truth.

Just like you were doing now.

“I remember, yes,” you murmured, unable to look him in the eyes.

“When I didn’t get a reply from you I decided not to push it. That’s when I realized you didn’t want anything to do with me. Yet I kept sending you stuff as you might know…”

“That’s not it…” You could barely speak. You were as broken as he was. “I read the message, Seb, but… I burst into tears and didn’t have the strength to reply. I didn’t want to give you false hope when I wasn’t ready to… I didn’t want to hurt you more than I already had,” you confessed. “I knew that if I spoke to you again, I’d hurt you again. And I’d hurt myself too. I couldn’t do that to you, Seb.”

He nodded, looking for some kind of affirmation in your gaze.

“At first, I felt really out of place on the team, you know? And I felt that way for a long time,” he revealed. “It was completely out of my comfort zone, and I felt like I’d never fit in. But little by little, Kimi, Maurizio, and the team made me feel like family. It’s strange to think about it now, but I can’t imagine being with any team other than Ferrari.” You agreed with him, from what you had seen on TV, it was clear he felt that way. “Fighting for the world title with them this year and having a real shot at beating Mercedes… I never thought I’d get to this point.”

You looked at him with a mix of admiration and nostalgia. This was the Seb you knew, the Seb with ambition, who always desired more and more. The Seb who never gave up.

The Seb who didn’t break down, even when he had every reason to.

“I’m so proud of you, Seb. I’ve always been, and I always will be. Don’t forget that.”

“Of course, Y/N,” he looked uncomfortable. Quite a bit, actually. “Well… enough about me. You know I don’t like talking about myself… What about you? What have you been up to all this time? My mom told me a bit, and I’ve seen you a few times, but…”

More than not knowing what to say, you sensed he didn’t want to intrude too much into your life.

You swallowed, trying not to get more nervous than you already were, because now, you supposed, was the moment to tell him about Emily.

“Well, not much has changed, really,” you started, unsure of what to say. “I’ve been in Heppenheim the whole time, except for a couple of trips to Berlin, but nothing unusual,” you tried to smile, but your mind kept circling around the fact that you had to tell him you had a daughter. “I’ve been working at the bar and writing music. To be honest, since we broke up I’ve had a lot more inspiration.”

And since I gave birth to Emily, you thought.

Seb didn’t say anything. You figured he understood. After all, he had thrown himself into his career to cope, while you had poured your emotions into writing songs about the story you shared to cope with grief.

“Now things have changed a bit,” you continued, trying to sound more upbeat to push away the painful memories. “Ever since Red went viral… I swear, I uploaded it without expecting anything, but the reaction…”

“The song is amazing, Y/N. Of course it went viral.”

“I’ve been offered a record deal,” you blurted out. “A few years ago, I met Niall Horan at the bar. You know, the guy who was on that band, One Direction…” Seb nodded, his eyes wide, encouraging you to continue. “He told me he was traveling to find some inspiration for his solo career, and I guess Heppenheim seemed like a good place for him to visit.”

“Wait, wait… a record deal?”

“Apparently, Niall told his label that I was the voice behind Red, and, well… Capital Records offered me a contract,” you explained. “They called me to have a meeting in London, which is why we couldn’t meet up last time…”

His face was calm, unreadable, though his mouth had curved into a big smile. He didn’t seem surprised, and you knew there was a strong chance Hanna had told him everything.

If that was true…

“I hope you accepted, Y/N.”

“Well… actually, I didn’t. I turned it down.”

His smile faded for a moment, and his expression became completely serious.

“You turned it down? Why? Sunshine, this is an opportunity…”

“Yes, I know it’s an amazing opportunity, but I can’t accept it. Not right now.”

You figured this was the moment you should tell him the real reason behind rejecting such a big deal, which included a tour if you sold a certain amount of CDs.

Sebastian kept staring at you, which only made you more nervous. You tried to gather your thoughts, searching for the right way to tell him you had a four-year-old daughter, but you couldn’t find the moment.

You couldn’t just drop it on him now, after all, this was your first real conversation in almost five years.

“Y/N, darling…”

“I can’t take the risk when the only thing I’ve managed is to get one song out of all the ones I sent to the label to go viral,” you half-lied. It was true that you didn’t want to talk about it yet, but you were also insecure about your music. “As much as I’d love to have an album, to fill stadiums and have people singing along to my songs, I can’t take that risk.”

“But, Y/N…”

“I’m not sure all the songs on the album would be successful, Seb.”

“Y/N, you have no idea what you’re going to regret if you let this go....”

“No, Seb, I know exactly what I’m doing, really,” you shook your head, firm in your decision. “This is the best thing for me.” 

And for Emily too, though you didn’t say that out loud.

Seb remained silent for longer than you would have liked, as if trying to process what you’d just told him. Then, he stood up, crouching down to your level, and taking your hands in his, he said:

“Alright. If you think your songs aren’t good enough, sing one of them to me.”

“What?” you asked, confused.

“If you turned down the record deal because you think your songs aren’t good enough for the world to hear, sing one of them to me.”

His tone, though calm, was direct and insistent.

“Seb… I can’t. I’m too embarrassed,” you laughed nervously.

“Come on, Y/N,” he said, gently rubbing your hands with his thumbs, just like he always did when your anxiety was at its worst. “It’s just me. I’m still the same after all these years.”

You sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to let it go until you gave in. It was Seb, and he always got what he wanted from you, even when you didn’t want to. In the end, you gave in, carefully standing up from the couch and heading towards the piano at the back of the room, gesturing for him to follow you.

You carefully slided the bench back, lifting the lid as you sat down. You positioned your hands, starting to play the first few chords to warm up, ensuring your memory flawlessly recalled the piece.

“This is song number 5, like your driver number... It's called loml.”

You continued playing, finally giving way to the song.

Who's gonna stop us from waltzing   Back into rekindled flames?   If we know the steps anyway   We embroidered the memories   Of the time I was away   Stitching, ‘We were just kids, babe.’   I said, ‘I don't mind, it takes time.’   I thought I was better safe than starry-eyed   I felt aglow like this   Never before and never since.

Your voice shook as you began to sing, but you kept going, holding on to what your ex-boyfriend had told you about how he knew it was about him. As you settled into the song, you started feeling more comfortable, just like you did when you used to sing for Seb. Though you couldn’t look at him because you were absorbed in the key, your fingers delicately moving over it, you could feel his eyes on you.

You shit-talked me under the table   Talking rings and talking cradles   I wish I could un-recall   How we almost had it all   Dancing phantoms on the terrace   Are they second-hand embarrassed   That I can't get out of bed?   Cause something counterfeit's dead.

Tears started falling from your eyes as you approached the final part of the song. Memories of your shared history flashed through your mind like a movie. Your vision was completely blurred, and you felt a tightness in your chest that was overwhelming, making it hard to breathe, almost impossible to keep singing. Somehow, though, you fought to hold it together, just as you did the day you said goodbye to the man now sitting beside you.

Oh, what a valiant roar   What a bland goodbye   The coward claimed he was a lion   I'm combing through the braids of lies   ‘I’ll never leave’... ‘Never mind.’   Our field of dreams, engulfed in fire   Your arson matches your somber eyes   And I'll still see it until I die   You're the loss of my life.

Silence filled the room as you played the final notes. With your hands still resting on the keyboard, you looked at Seb. Once again, you didn’t know what to say to him, and you knew he didn't either. He was motionless, running a hand through his hair, probably trying to process what he just heard.

Y/Ni, this song... it’s about us, isn’t it?”

“It might be,” you admited, unable to lie to him, at least not about this.

He sighed. You could tell he was affected; you knew it the moment his tears began to form, just as yours continued to flow.

“You should rethink the contract,” he said firmly. “This song deserves to be heard by more than just me, your parents, and Hanna.”

“I can’t, Seb. I just can’t…”

“Can I sit next to you?”

You looked up and saw him gesturing to the bench. Confused, not sure what to do or say, you shifted a little, making space, and he sat beside you. Seb didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around you, offering a comfort that felt wonderful but also caused you to crumble a bit more inside. 

You surprised yourself by resting your head on his shoulder.

“Why are you so determined to convince yourself you don’t deserve this opportunity?” His tone was soft, just like the way he stroked your hair. “Do you really think you're not good enough to be a successful singer?”

“It’s not about being good enough, it’s that I’m not,” you whisper,ed your throat tightening. “I’m not a good person, Seb, and it’s only a matter of time before I screw up again and hurt someone, just like I hurt you.”

“Does this… have something to do with the second date in your YouTube channel username?”

You stood your head up, staring at him in confusion while trying not to panic.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your username,” he repeated, moving closer. “I figured out that the numbers represent two dates. I know for sure that one of them is June 15, 2006, the day we started dating, but the other one… I don’t know what January 12, 2014 means for you because we weren’t talking by then, but it must be important. And based on what you just said…”

Your eyes widened in shock. You were paralyzed, not knowing how to react. 

How could he have noticed something so… insignificant? How had he connected the dots and figured out the dates you had in mind when you created that account?

You thought this would be the perfect moment to tell him that the second date marks the birth of your daughter, the daughter you had together; that on that day, while you were in labor, he was at the hospital waiting for some exams results and he was talking to your dad, who couldn’t contain his excitement about his granddaughter’s arrival and had to keep it a secret from him.

But you couldn’t. Not yet. You need to regain his trust first. You and Seb needed to rebuild the kind of relationship you had before you became the love of each other’s lives.

“Seb…” you trailed off, unable to continue. “I swear, on everything that matters to you, I’ll tell you, but right now… I just can’t.”

He looked at you for a few seconds that felt like an eternity. You knew him better than you knew yourself, and you knew he was persistent, that he needed an answer, but you also knew he was respectful and wouldn't push you.

“That’s okay,” he said finally, a bit resigned. “I understand, it’s fine. I’m not asking you to tell me now if you’re not ready, but I want you to know that when you are, I’ll be here to listen.”

You looked at him, grateful, and nodded without saying anything else. 

You both sat at the piano bench for a while, in silence, listening only to the sound of your breathing and the melody of the song replaying in your mind, as intrusive thoughts overwhelmed you.

“If I waited almost 19 years of my life to be your boyfriend, I can wait a little longer, it doesn’t matter the time you need, for you to tell me,” Seb finally spoke, and his words broke you a little more than you already were. “Let’s be friends again, what do you think?” he offered, giving you a small smile. “Let’s take things slowly, like maybe we should have done when we first started dating. You know…”

“Slowly, no problem,” you repeated, smiling back at him.

You felt a weight lift from your shoulders at his words. Maybe you were not at the peak of your relationship, and maybe you’d never got back there, but at least you were working together to turn your story into something new.

“You know what, Y/N? I’ve always felt like our story wasn’t over. I don’t just mean that romantically, but in a broader sense,” he said quickly. “We have a whole lot of history, and now is when we’re going to start writing our second book.”

“I know, Seb. I’ve been thinking the same thing ever since I said goodbye to you,” you confess. “That day, goodbyes were bittersweet, but I knew it wasn’t the end and that I’d see you again.”

Before the year ends. I’m telling Seb Emily is her daughter before December 31st.

[kpeanuts]

@tadc-funfair-au's Pomctober/Pomni Inktober Day 5 - @sm-baby's Carnival AU

WALL OF TEXT INCOMING

Hands down, no competition, my favorite AU to read and learn about as it unfolds. On the other hand, this might be the one that I am least proud of after drawing. I know I said that I'd come out swinging for Day 5, but I legitimately couldn't find the vision. I feel like I made so, so many mistakes just on this one alone. Ignoring the practical mistakes for a second, for some reason, I had such a hard time thinking on what I wanted to have as the setting. I thought of using Pomni's tent with her on the dive-board or on a pedestal you see the ringmaster standing on, then I thought in the bedroom hallway, and even after sleeping on it I still couldn't get it right. Eventually I just decided to draw sentient Pomni outside of Kinger's throne room (at least I'm pretty sure Kinger would have an ornate entryway to his room, idk). I'm absolutely terrible at drawing environments, interior or otherwise, only reason why I thought Day 3's background looked remotely good was because I was able to use the horror aspect of it to cover it up, but Carnival doesn't have the same attributes to use as a veil. But it's whatever, I can't bring myself to touch the file further since I know that it's just going to get worse.

I'm going to skip over Day 6 completely for two reasons: One, refresh my mind in terms of drawing TADC and do research for Day 7. Two, I don't feel like logging into Instagram (or twitter, which means that I'm going to skip over Day 10 as well).

Now, while I am going to stop drawing TADC and Pomctober for tomorrow, I've found another Inktober prompt list, Goretober. So I'm going to just do a few drawings for that one and warning people in advance that do not wish to see that kind of stuff: PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY, GO SET YOUR FILTERED TAGS TO INCLUDE "cw: guro", "cw: blood", "cw: death" AND/OR "cw: gore"! I'll be including the Violence content label but this is just for good measure.

With that, finally, I'm done with the usual ranting. Again, I'm going to be posting a few very violent and bloody sketches for Goretober later on, so go filter out the tags I listed above by going to "Settings" > "Account" > "Content you see" > "Filtered Tags". Those posts won't be showing up often, and I might make an entirely separate blog in the future just to make sure that my usual content isn't mixed in with the mature. I shall leave you with that warning, and safe travels!

[unreliablesnake]

Stay (Vincent de Gramont x reader)

Summary: Vincent would go to great lenghts to keep you by his side.

Note: Previously on... / I can't get enough of this dude. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button. I don't have a taglist.

You gave Vincent the silent treatment for the rest of the day, even refusing to breathe the same air as him. You locked yourself in your room, although all you could do was lie in bed and stare at the ceiling since he had taken away your phone back in New York. It was hard to be all alone here, especially knowing that your friends were in the very same city at the moment.

He tried to come in. He kept his manners in check and knocked instead of barging in, but since you refused to answer, he eventually gave up and left. Then later there was a soft knock again, one which was followed by a letter being slipped into the room under the door.

With a sigh, you picked it up and sat on the edge of the bed to read it. He invited you for dinner, and he wanted you to wear a dress he had left in front of your room. It wasn't a long letter, but you could feel his adoration through every single handwritten word. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. Why did he have to do this? Why did he have to be so nice to you?

After opening the door a little to make sure no one was nearby, you brought in the box with the dress to take a closer look at it. You hated to admit it, but Vincent's taste was impeccable. This was the perfect color for you, the perfect silhouette, the perfect fabric. And the matching nude shoes were heavenly too. Everything was great, and you hated that you loved it.

Two hours later you walked down to the hall where Vincent was waiting for you, wearing another phenomenal suit and looking as dashing as always. And when his eyes landed on you, you could tell his breath caught in his throat. He opened his mouth to say something, probably a compliment, but when you shot a warning look at him, he changed his mind.

He took you to a fancy restaurant, but instead of going to a table far from the rest of the guests, they led you to a private room in the back. Well, what were you expecting, really? That he would spend the evening among ordinary people? Vincent talked to a waiter in French once you settled down across from each other, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from smiling.

Silence ruled the room when you were finally left alone, but you didn't feel like breaking it. You wanted him to suffer. You wanted him to understand that he couldn't always get what he wanted. And he got the message. As those beautiful green eyes were glued to you, you noticed the change in his expression.

“Marry me,” he said out of nowhere while he pulled out a ring from his pocket.

You almost fell off your chair. This must have been a mistake. Something was definitely wrong with your hearing. “I'm sorry?” you asked hesitantly, even though you saw the ring that proved it was way too real.

Vincent flashed a charming smile at you. “You heard me.” He stood up and walked around the table to stop right in front of you. “Marry me.”

“No,” you gave him the only reasonable answer.

“Why?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused. “I would give you everything your heart desires.”

You couldn't help but laugh at him. Did he just try to buy your love? “I don't want to stay here, I already told you.”

“You would seriously leave me for your life in New York?” he asked, a hand finding its way to your cheek as he spoke.

“Yes.”

Suddenly he crouched down and steadied himself by putting his hands on your thighs. “Wouldn't you miss me? Be honest with yourself. Wouldn't you wish I was there with you whenever you felt lonely?”

“Don't,” you warned him.

“You want me, mon amour, why are you trying to deny it?”

“Stop projecting.”

His fingers dug into your skin through the fabric of your dress, moving towards your core painfully slowly. “You kissed me several times on your own free will. You slept with me because you wanted to. Why are you acting like you didn't feel anything?” he asked.

It was terrible and wrong and damn it, he was right. You had given in too many times for your liking in the past few days. Winston was right, he knew how to charm a woman. When his hands reached your inner thigh, you put your hand on his to stop him.

But he didn't react the way you expected, because he was quick to lace his fingers with yours, raising your hand to his lips. “Stay with me,” he whispered against your skin.

“John will win, and when he does, I'm going home,” you told him plainly, hoping he would finally accept it.

Vincent let out a sigh, clearly trying hard to keep his composure, and stood up. He didn't say anything, instead he sat down and pushed a button on the little device the waiter had given him. Soon the wine and the food began to arrive, and the two of you focused on that instead of talking about his ridiculous idea.

The next day you were livid. This son of a bitch appointed Caine to be his representative in the duel because he didn't even care enough to do it himself. Or he was just sure John would easily kill him so he chose a way that ensured he would stay alive.

“You're nothing more but a spineless cockroach, Vincent,” you growled at him when you returned to his home.

For a moment he looked surprised to hear you talk to him like that, but it didn't seem to bother him. If anything, he looked calm and sure of himself, as if he had made the right decision by getting someone to do the job for him. “Darling, you don't seem to understand,” was all he said.

But before he could give you a speech to defend himself, you raised your hand to stop him. “I don't care. I don't want to hear your excuses. I'll be in my room,” you told him before turning on your heels and marching in that direction.

Before you could leave the room, you felt his arm sneak around your waist and pull you against his chest. “Don't go,” he whispered into your ear. “Stay with me until the end.”

Inhaling and exhaling slowly to calm yourself, you thought about what to say. You didn't want to be near him, yet you wanted to be by his side. Your brain and your heart wanted entirely different things, and it confused you. Feeling his body heat made you melt into his arms, but your brain kept reminding you that he was a monster.

“Let go of me,” you told him threateningly, expecting to feel him move away from you. But his grip only tightened, and he rested his chin on top of your head. “Vincent, don't do this. Please,” you said, trying a different approach.

“Stay,” he asked you quietly.

Gulping, you put your hand on his and stayed like that for a minute or two. It was nice to feel this way, knowing he cared so much about you, but this feeling didn't last long because you soon pried his arm off of yourself.

When you turned around to look at him, you were met by his disappointed gaze. “Don't give me this look,” you told him as you pinched the bridge of your nose.

Vincent only watched you in silence, clearly trying to come up with a plan to convince you. But then he nodded and walked away with his phone already in his hand, giving you space as you wished. A part of you, a small, quiet part of you felt disappointed that he left, but once you shook your head and went in the other direction to your room, you felt a lot better.

Just a few more hours and you will be free. You will go back to New York with Winston and John, continuing your life as if this didn't even happen. Sure, Charon's death would always remind you of it, but the pain will fade away with time.

As the day passed by, you eventually crawled out of your room, but Vincent was nowhere to be found. One of his men said he was working, and when he led you to him, you found him standing by a table with an angry look on his face.

“Is everything okay?” you asked cautiously.

He finally noticed you when you spoke up, but he didn't say anything at first. Just when you thought he would shut you out, he reached out to signal you to come closer. With a sigh, you did as he wanted, and once you stopped next to him, he leaned down to kiss you.

You weren't expecting this. It took you by surprise and you wrapped your arms around his neck without realizing you were doing it. “No. No, no, no, stop,” you mumbled once you came to your senses and pushed him away. “What's going on?”

He told you everything. He told you about his plan to get John killed before sunrise. You shouted, you pushed him, you told him what you thought of this stupid idea. It wasn't fair, and you thought he was better than this. He wasn't a good person, but you believed he had standards.

This time he didn't even try to make you stay. He let you leave so he could focus on the ongoing manhunt.

Hours later you went to the location of the duel, patiently waiting for John and Caine to arrive. You and Winston exchanged worried looks when you heard gunfire nearby, only minutes before the deadline. If he didn't make it, you would have to stay here. This wasn't good. No. This was nerve-racking.

But he arrived and you felt like you could finally breathe again. That's until John ended up on the ground, slowly bleeding out. You glanced over at your boss, but the corners of his lips curled into a barely visible smile. Before you could understand what was happening, Vincent jumped up and took the gun from Caine.

Did he really wait until John was vulnerable? This was a low you weren't expecting, but apparently he felt like ending the duel himself. But there was a catch, as Winston was quick to inform him–John hadn't shot in the last round yet.

“I'm giving you a chance here,” John suddenly said. “I let you go if you give us everything we want and promise never to come after us.”

“John,” Winston warned him.

You couldn't decide whether or not it would be a good idea to let him go. After everything he had done, it wasn't guaranteed that he wouldn't go after John anyway.

Vincent looked over at you, and you could see that he was still shocked. “Will you stay with me?” he asked you quietly. “Or at least will you visit me?”

John didn't seem to understand, and even Winston raised an eyebrow. But by now you were quite used to him asking you to stay with him, although this was different. This time it felt like he would rather choose death if you said you wouldn't meet again.

“I won't stay here. But,” you added before he could say anything, “I like this place, so I might come back for a few days. That is if you keep your word.”

He nodded. “All right. Anything you want, my love.”

[pyreo]

I'm comparing the Dungeon Meshi manga to episodes I just watched and now I gotta capital-p Post about this one episode (spoilers past Episode 12)

So this part is an emotional side-step from the central throughline so far - Laios and Marcille got Falin back successfully and reunited, and they got that payoff from the very beginning where they thought it would be impossible. But Chilchuck is very much a part of these layers of development, so after that dragon finally dies, we stop for a second - Laios and Marcille are recovering, Falin has disappeared again - how does Chilchuck feel at that point?

It's the perfect stage to insert that because he didn't really share in that sense of victory in the same way as Laios and Marcille recovering someone extremely close to them. And that's on purpose because he keeps everyone at arms' length. As soon as that arc hits its end and Falin is recovered, there's at last space to ask - why is Chilchuck even here.

He's asking himself that through the chapter. Now that they've lost the person they intended to save, he regrets agreeing to come.

And starts shouldering responsibility for everything ending up this way. We saw that when he got stuck in the mimic room before - he refuses to let himself ask for help, or he'll try to take burdens alone to lessen relying on others. The original Touden Party was six people, and when Laios insisted on going back underground they were two, and he knew they would die, and figured maybe, maybe if they were one more, with his skillset, maybe they'd have a chance. He couldn't let them walk back down just to die.

And he's going back to that mindset - their lives are on me. He thinks he could have prevented this if he'd chosen differently. Essentially, the walk alongside the orc woman is him working through a guilt spiral.

He sees a second chance to correct that mistake of joining the party. He wants them out now, before they die. The orc asks him how they defeated a dragon and, in explaining it, he reminds himself of all the risky, ridiculous things they had to do, and he isn't satisfied with just getting lucky. Laios got his foot bitten off, on purpose! This proves to him that if they go any further they will not survive. And he hints at this dissatisfaction a couple chapters later, wishing his teammates prioritised things other than winning at all costs...

Like, obviously. The point of this chapter is Chilchuck pretending to be a self-serving coward. To the point where others react with disdain, even disgust, towards him because he wants to lie to Marcille and Laios to ensure they turn back. He's desperate to get out of a hopeless situation by any means necessary, and will destroy his standing in the group in a blink if it means nobody else dies. He has to go on a stupid mental health walk for his stupid mental health and talk through his little bout of panic and doubt.

'You called me a coward so don't be surprised when I act accordingly'

He needs someone very blunt to tell him 'dude you're not being a coward for wanting your friends to get out of hell alive. you're a coward for making excuses instead of honestly telling them your concern is genuine' and he BSODs about it. He needs to rant and externalise that frustration over their recklessness at a third party. He needs to scream that they are idiots because he's the only one for which the ends don't justify the means and he can't keep losing his mind over everyone's safety. Down to a point, the orc praises their ability to survive the explosion from the dragon's fuel sac, and it only justifies Chilchuck - Falin didn't even know she could cast the spell that stopped them all being killed, and they cannot continue getting lucky like this.

Anyway. The reason I stopped to think about it was this part-

Where he recovers Laios's monster-infused sword. The thing that made their situation in the dragon fight go from bad to worse, that he swore at Laios for in every language he knew. The most angry we'd seen him. And now he calmly picks it up and praises it for being the only one of them smart enough to make a run for it.

He's projecting, obviously. He's internalising the label of 'coward' and changing himself to fit it. And, look at him, he's so tired of this. It's evidence of his sheer exhaustion that his anger immediately disappears and he actually gives it a compliment. Him and Laios's sword, the group cowards, the only one who agrees with him.

Then, because he had a walk before getting into the argument, he's organised his feelings and drops all the walls and pretense and just says it.

There's a rule of writing where you contrast your high energy sequences with parts that are slow and mundane, to make the difference more apparent. I think that's why I like this bit so much. The fight against the dragon is long, and the emotional stakes are enormous. Right after that we have the bath scene with Falin and Marcille, and Laios ruffling Falin's hair, and this part that pauses everything to explore the stuff that Chilchuck finally needs to say. And it's wrapped in this neat little solemn journey to pick up their supplies and remember how it felt when all five of them had a meal around a real dinner table at last.

And because he doesn't resort to individualistic trickery, because he explains his point as a duty of care rather than pitting himself against the others, he gets backed up. Senshi agrees that they don't have the supplies to continue, and the orc lady mentions her brethren will return later and can give them support, all of which together breaks down Laios's singleminded devotion to his cause.

Personally I think the manga's better suited to comic timing, but in the anime you can get fleshed out little moments, like Laios's face journey as he realises the other three are making a good case for their survival.

This was my favourite part so far, and I like how both Chilchuck-centric episodes have separated him from the others. Because he won't reveal anything he's thinking otherwise. lmao

[eyelessfaces]

uncalled for

summary: you get quite upset when poe "saves" your assigned mission by giving orders to your teams without consulting you; poe is determined to fix his mistake.

warnings: (public) arguing, talks of the future; family and having kids

tags: gn!reader, angst, being parents to bb8, fluff, this ends up being real sweet tbh

word count: 1.7k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

(uh yeah I'm back if you even noticed I was gone lol. I might just post this and disappear again for a little longer idk but anyways I'll explain the reason whenever I'm back for good; I'm okay don't worry, and I'm still gonna post fics don't worry it's nothing too serious fr)

It causes a disruption when you both barge into the hangar; despite the constant clattering and whirring of tools and material there, both your bitter shoutings have been overlapping the sounds ever since Poe started following you closely, right from the moment you hastily jumped out of your x wing to try to forget about the awful management of your mission that would probably cost you to never get to lead one again. 

“It was my call, not yours” you affirm bitterly, voice dripping with resentment, your steps heavy and hurried as you try to shake Poe off but he is anything if not persevering, so it only manages to piss you off even more and fuel your frustration. “I didn’t need you to save my mission or whatever,” you exclaim, causing heads to turn as you walk across the large room, barely minding what is going on around you. 

“I did because I knew it would work!” Poe tries to explain, still heeling you closely. “I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t sure it would be successful” he declares louder than he needs to, thrown off when you suddenly stop in your steps, turning to him.

“So you think you can make decisions for me? You think I can’t do it, can’t command a mission correctly?” you rhetorically ask, revolted, sighing a profanity under your breath before you storm off again, your steps resonating with frustration. Poe sighs and winces before he follows you again, taking a hold of your arm.

“Babe come on you know that’s not–”

You stop again, your patience running short. “You had no right to encroach on my orders, I knew what I had to do, and you stepping in with your own instructions could have blown the whole mission up!” you call out, pressing a finger to his chest. 

It’s when you finally take a moment to take a look at his face that you realize it, what is going on; you are being the center of attention, the little show everyone stopped their current task to sit and watch, your every word carefully awaited by your unwanted audience. 

You sigh softly, taking a moment to step back from the situation. “Now leave me alone before we embarrass ourselves further or before I tell you things I don’t really mean just because I’m angry and don’t wanna talk to you” you hiss softly before leaving Poe in the middle of the busy room where he watches you walk away, helplessly standing there. 

When he looks around him, most people turn away and avert their gazes to pretend they haven’t witnessed anything, and Poe is well too aware of the tension still lingering in the air even as you exit the room.

When Jessika climbs down from her ladder after watching the scene from her cockpit, BB-8 rolls over to her and chirps sadly, having observed yours and Poe’s argument from afar just like most of the hangar after his master went running after you. She kneels down to the droid’s level, giving him a sympathetic smile.

“That’s gonna be fine Beebs, they always end up figuring it out somehow” she affirms as the droid’s upper part sinks in distress accompanied by saddened beeps. Jessika can’t help but smile fondly at him and his obvious concern, at the fact that he quite literally acts like you are his parents.

—

A few hours have passed when Poe joins you again; you don't notice him at first, having made sure to get focused enough on your paperwork to forget about the whole situation and try to ease the frustration within you. It's only when you put your datapad down that you see him leaning against the door frame.

“You're so pretty when you're focused” he smiles gently when your eyes meet his figure, causing you to roll your eyes and reluctantly smile at his words despite your lingering frustration. 

“I’m still mad at you,” you sigh softly as you try to hide your slight smirk, gaze darting back down to enter numbers into your datapad.

He acknowledges your feelings with a nod, his lips pressed together in a tight line. “I know.” he admits, stepping into the room. “That’s why I’m here” You look back up at him, taking a deep breath as you set your datapad aside; despite the fact that everything he did since you wrapped your mission up got on your nerves, deep down you only wish for this to situation to get figured out and eventually be behind the both of you. You join him in front of your desk, leaning against it.

“I knew what I was doing. I was handling it” you affirm before he even gets the chance to do so much as open his mouth.

He holds a hand up to slow you down. “I know,” he nods understandingly. “I shouldn’t have redirected the plan, I should have trusted you. I was just afraid things would go wrong considering how it was all starting to go down so quickly” he explains. “I know I could have fucked it all up, everything you put in place so the mission could go right” you slightly tilt your head to the side in agreement. 

“And I know my move was probably a lot more dangerous than the plan you had in mind to make everything right but you know I would never put you or our teams in danger, only myself” he declares with a concerned nod, causing your expression to soften. “You, never. I would never risk it, no matter what” there’s a soft frown over his face as his eyes flicker with sincerity, his confession making your heart ache as it hangs in the air before he talks again. “And I never doubted your ability to command a mission.” 

You nod with a heavy sigh, acknowledging his apology. “I should apologize too. I shouldn't have lashed out on you like that either.” you admit and nod sheepishly, reflecting on your impulsive behavior. “I really wanted this mission to go right”

“For what it’s worth,” he starts with a small smile, trying to dissimulate a bigger one. “I talked about it with Leia and she thinks you did pretty good” his declaration doesn’t fail to draw an appreciative smile from you, one that makes him mirror your action. “And she thinks we would work great together”

“And I agree,” you reply, finally feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as the tension between you begins to dissipate. “We do make a good team.”

Poe’s smile widens, relieved to see you loosen up a bit. “Yeah, we do” he agrees with a small huff, stepping closer to you. “I just hate seeing you so worked up.”

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “I hate getting worked up,” you scoff. 

“I’ll try to think about it twice next time,” Poe promises, reaching out to gently take your hand in his. “I don’t want to step on your toes or make you feel like I don’t trust you or your judgment.”

Your fingers intertwine with his, the warmth of his touch calming you further. “Well I’ll try not to snap at you,” you promise in return, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze as you let your head rest against his chest with a small, barely audible sigh. “Especially not in front of everyone,” you mutter, earning an amused chuckle from him. You melt into his touch as he leans to press a gentle kiss over your forehead, his hand that is not holding yours coming to wrap around you.

It is only after you pull away from his embrace and leave a chaste kiss to his lips that the corner of your eye notices a sort of spy in the corner of the door frame.

“What’s he doing here” 

Poe frowns before he turns around, huffing out a laugh when he notices BB-8 peeking out the door. “How long have you been here?” he jokingly scolds his droid that fully reveals himself now that he has been caught. “You know he doesn’t like when we fight” he softly sighs turning back to you, a mix of amusement and concern in his eyes before he looks at BB rolling over the both of you.

You shake your head, unable to suppress your smile at BB-8’s presence. “Very sweet of him to be looking out for us,” you start, reaching out to pat the droid’s dome affectionately. “But maybe he should learn not to eavesdrop.”

BB-8 chirps playfully, obviously pleased with the attention, seemingly eager to be a part of the reconciliation.

Poe chuckles, kneeling down to scratch behind BB-8’s sensor with a fond smile. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll work on that,” he says before glancing back at you with a soft smile. “He's our kid, he’s been worried sick about us, weren't you?” he turns to BB, who's beeping frantically in agreement.

You glance at him, then back at Poe, a softness settling in your chest at the sight of them together, your little family. “Our first kid, yeah” you smile softly, heart fluttering inside your chest.

“First? Meaning there's gonna be more?” Poe asks with a playful smile, getting back on his feet. He raises his eyebrows as he awaits your response, and you both laugh at the sudden change of atmosphere as Poe wraps a hand around you before pressing a kiss to your temple.

You huff out a laugh at his quick jump to conclusion, “I don't know, you're a pretty good dad to this one,” you shrug.

“A couple hours ago I was dead to you and now we're talking having kids” he laughs into your hair, a teasing tone in his voice. 

“You weren’t even close to being dead to me, you’re so dramatic Poe” you declare with a small scoff, poking his chest lightly. “That’s the reason Beebs loves you so much” you tease, making him huff out a laugh. “I’d say we should focus on surviving one parenting experience first,” you chuckle looking down at BB-8, nudging Poe playfully. “But who knows what the future holds?”

Poe grins, his eyes sparkling with excitement as his arm grasps tighter around his hold on you. “As long as I have you by my side, I'm up for anything babe.”

—

reblogs and feedback are extremely (I cannot stress this enough) appreciated!!

star wars masterlist: @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @spider-starry @jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @friedwings @luxisluxurious @stvnnie @dowbastan @il0vebeingdelulu @hammerhead96 @unear7hly

[ttjisung]

back 2 u 𝜗𝜚

p. jisung x fem!reader smau - exes to lovers

in which jisung does his best to avoid you, his ex, until he realizes his mistake far too late cw: suggestive themes, bad angst, cheating, swearing

i'm not going back, back, back, back, back

masterlist

previous next

chapter viii. (wc: 1.6k)

Your nails dug crescent shaped figures into your palms as you waited for Jaemin impatiently. For some reason, you were incredibly nervous and it wasn’t because you barely talked to the man. 

The nerves formed more-so due to the fact that this was, in your eyes, your last chance to get your point across to Jisung. Obviously, even if he did understand and apologized, your relationship would be stunted yet fixing it was better than leaving it to rot considering you truly loved the man, so you had devised a plan. It was simple really - Jaemin would apologize (even if it wasn’t heartfelt) to get Jisung on his good side, and then he’d show screenshots that Yangyang and Dejun failed to realize proved your innocence until the night before your cafe meetup. 

According to Jisung’s words, you had snuck out the night before he broke up with you and got with other men, yet the crucial fact that you were with your best friends at the time was proven true by a dumb Instagram story that Yangyang had posted on his account, making fun of your movie taste. Being forgetful, he hadn’t remembered he posted it until Dejun was stalking his highlights like most people sneakily do and checked the dates, immediately messaging your group chat with the screenshots.

For the first time in a while, the constant weight you felt on your back was lifted slightly, and was replaced by a blossoming hope in your chest. You had even unblocked Jisung in case he messaged you after to talk.

Deep into your own thoughts, you hadn’t realized Jaemin had arrived until he called out your name, wearing a friendly smile which he always did. You waved your hand timidly, responding with a small hi before nodding at the seat in front of you. 

“I’m glad you asked to talk, Y/n. I hadn’t realized until you messaged me that this is the first time we’ve hung out one-on-one properly which is kind of wild, you know, since we’ve known each other for a while.” Jaemin ranted, scooting closer over the small table. “That’s true, but we haven’t ever really been close. I don’t think it’s too odd.” You tried to shut down his words with a kind tone, not agreeing. “Maybe we can be?” “Yeah… Maybe. So, Yang found some screenshots that are pretty much undeniable, and I was hoping you could maybe show them to Jisung?” Your hands shot down towards your pocket to get your phone, quickly unlocking it.

“I really would love to, but actually I have something to show you too.” Jaemin paralleled your actions, getting his phone as well and opening up a chain of messages. He cringed, re-reading them before sliding the device across the table. “I was checking their texts in our group chat with all the guys and Hyuck was sort of dissing you last night, and Jisung said some messed up shit.” His face could only be described as pitying as he saw you take in the words being shared.

I honestly wish we never dated. 

She was always so anxious about everything.

I missed her and all but it made me think and maybe it’s for the best.

I don’t want to be with someone like her.

You hadn’t even realized tears were falling down your cheeks until you felt a hand grip your chin, Jaemin’s hand to be specific. His other held a napkin which he used to dab your tears. The touch was intimate, yet you were too upset to take notice or say anything. You just let them fall, shutting your eyes and sliding his phone back to him. 

“I… I don’t get it. He was always so happy with me. He seemed happy with me.” “I’m sorry, Y/n. You deserve better, you really do. They’re all jerks - that’s why I stopped texting in there.” Jaemin’s words came out in a comforting whisper, finally releasing your face yet quickly replacing it with your hands that were shaking on the small table. “Would you like me to send the screenshots still?” “I guess… it’d be nice to clear my name, but obviously they won’t have the same effect anymore…” Your face was sunken, your lips wobbly as you responded. For the first time since your break up, you didn’t only feel sadness towards Jisung. You felt anger. Your whole pursuit for proof ended up useless, as he claimed to be unhappy regardless of your supposed cheating. It was truly as if his personality had switched completely, being rude and insulting instead of his usual lovesick self. 

“It’s up to you,” Jaemin stated, rubbing his thumb over yours affectionately, “I’ll do it, but I still think you could do better.” You nodded, although you felt yourself dissociating and not truly grasping his words. What you hadn’t realized through your teary, squinted eyes was the fact that he seemed concerningly happy at the news that you didn’t want to talk to Jisung anymore. In fact, his eyes quickly widened in pleasure and returned to normal when he heard resentment in your voice. 

You honestly made it too easy. Any other person would show clear suspicion as soon as they’d receive a text from a friend of their ex ‘siding’ with them. Yet you were too nice, not believing Jaemin was capable of lying. 

The first time you two had met was the definition of love at first sight, in his eyes. You didn’t even know Jisung back then - only Renjun, who unknowingly led Jaemin to you. You had visited your friend’s house, being invited to a small get together at his pool. It was only a handful of you, including Mark and Donghyuck as well as Kim Minjeong and Ning Yizhuo, who accompanied said friends. 

You had excused yourself to Renjun’s bathroom, going to change into your bathing suit, and as you walked out you accidentally crashed into Jaemin, causing him to spill the lemonade he was carrying outside all over you. In an embarrassed rush, he dragged you back into the bathroom and grabbed the nearest towel, wiping down the top of your two-piece bikini. The red on his face grew as he realized he was touching you too intimately, making him apologize and finally look up at you. 

Jaemin felt entranced, never having seen a face quite like yours. You shared the same blush as him, which he mistook as mutual attraction. Unknowingly to him, you simply blushed because you were shy and had never met him before. Sure, he was attractive and he seemed nice enough to help you clean up, yet your type was someone who resembled your personality much more, and his flamboyant actions proved to you he wasn’t the kind to. 

You quickly accepted his rambled apologies, telling him you’d just dip into the pool and it would come right off. He led you towards the backyard of the house, walking towards Mark and Donghyuck yet throughout the evening, he couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering to you. At the end of the night, he searched for you to ask for your number, feeling encouraged by the couple of shots he took with Donghyuck while the girls swam, yet to his misfortune, you had already gone home.

Not wanting to embarrass himself and ask Renjun for your contact information, he simply hoped a day would come where he’d meet you again at an event, giving him the chance to finally ask you out. 

The day came months later, when Jaemin was invited to a party by Mark. Seeing your familiar figure sitting on a couch, his mood shot up and a smile grew on his face, yet it was quickly wiped off as he saw your hand interlocked with a hand belonging to none other than Park Jisung, his own friend. 

It felt like betrayal, although Jisung wasn’t aware of his crush, that you had been swept off your feet by someone so close to him. You looked so happy, blushing and giggling alongside him, and Jaemin swore somehow he would end up being the one to make you laugh. He hadn’t expected you both to take your relationship so seriously though, going on several years, and he started to get impatient. 

Convincing Donghyuck to help him, although not purposeful, was easy. It wasn’t that he disliked you, in fact he really enjoyed your company, seeing you as a very close friend, yet all Jaemin had to do was take a blurry photo of someone who resembled you kissing a man in a club the two were at. Jaemin was aware of the protective nature he had over the younger boy, so as soon as he showed it to Donghyuck, the man did all the work himself, calling Jisung and telling him about the situation. 

It all worked in Jaemin’s favor, especially when you messaged him to meet up. It was as if all the years of waiting finally paid off, now presenting him with the perfect opportunity to sweep you off your feet, all the meanwhile convincing Jisung he wasn’t missing out on dating you. Of course, he’d probably lose his friendship once he got to his last part of his plan which was properly asking you out, yet he was willing to take that risk, considering he met you before Jisung did, and it truly was only right that he’d get you instead. 

After half an hour of comforting you while you cried to him at the cafe, he offered to drop you off, grinning ear to ear once he saw you enter your apartment. Pulling out his phone, he quickly deleted the screenshots you had sent him proving your innocence, knowing Jisung would never be seeing those since the second you brought it up. 

Jaemin wouldn’t let his plan go to waste, and he wasn’t ready to allow anyone to ruin it for the both of you.

a/n: omg! I'm so shocked! jp i knew he was going to be the villain all along. (it's not like i'm the author or anything >U<) hehe

Na Jaemin, i sincerely apologize... i love you... you are perf... my man truly. but someone had to be the bad guy and unfortunately i chose you... it was originally gonna be haechan having a sad pathetic one-sided crush instead but he was chosen to be jaemin's little pawn bc it makes him look more evil muehehe

things are gonna get messier soon but we finally got the backstory >:3 jisung redemption arc coming in the next chapters? NOPE! cause i love angst sorryyy... but eventually we'll get there. i think. maybe.

[princesachicana]

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 pt.2

a/n: it's finally here!! how long has it been?! first things first i want to say thank you to everyone who's been rooting for this fic!! I honestly hit a huge writers block and had no motivation to write!! but all the sweet messages from people saying they enjoyed my work has made me so happy!!! SO ONCE AGAIN THANK U AND I HOPE U ENJOY!! I tried my EXTRA HARDEST SO I HOPE THIS GIVES U THE CLOSURE YALL WANTED I LOVE YOU SM! ALSO THIS IS NOT PROOF READ SO PLEASE EXCUSE ANY MISTAKES!! I JUST WANTED TO FINALLY POST FOR U GUYS!!

It took a lot out of you not to stay in bed the next morning. The softness of your bed wrapped around your body gives you some sort of comfort. But of course, staying in bed would only make you feel worse. At least if you got up it would be easier to fake happiness. To no surprise, your phone was flooded with missed calls and texts from both Steven and Belly. Of course, you only responded to belly telling her that you'll explain your reasoning for ditching your "date" with Steven later.

Why did Steven even bother leaving you so many texts last night? If you were such a bother to him? Annoying. That's what he thinks you are. And what if you never heard those disgusting things he said about you? and went on the date with him? Would he just continue to lead you on?

Steven: waiting for you by the pool.

Steven: ur late

Steven: u look pretty even though i can't even see you. pls im starving

Steven: is belly holding you hostage?

Steven: it's been 18 minutes cmon.

Steven: the guys are going to laugh at me for being stood up I'm getting nervous.

Steven: did something happen are you okay?

Steven: belly is worried as well lmk.

You laughed at the messages blinking back angry tears that threatened to fall. Gosh! he was so fake. You could only imagine how relieved he must have been to not hang out with you.

Belly: have funnnn

Belly: no funny business!!

Belly: wait where did you go?!

Belly: Steven keeps pacing back and forth waiting for u

Belly: what’s going on?

Belly: just let us know ur okay

Belly: y/n ??!?!??

Y/n: hey, something came up last night sorry I had you worried. can u come over?

Belly arrived 20 minutes later. You spent the time together watching reruns of your favorite Disney show. “Do you want to talk about it?” Belly asked after a while, noticing something was bothering you.

“I overheard the guys talking about me last night.” You fiddled with the throw blanket that was on your lap. “At first it was just them teasing Steven about our date or whatever.” You took a deep breath upset that you felt like crying. “But Steven only agreed to hang out with me…” You paused blinking back tears. Belly moved closer immediately pulling you into a hug. “He only agreed to hang out with me…so I could stop annoying him! I honestly don’t know what I did wrong?” You pulled away from belly’s arms wiping your tears that had fallen.

“Maybe I was too forward? but I just wanted to see if he felt the same way…it was dumb.” You shrugged. Belly shook her head “Nope my brother is a fucking idiot!” she stood up taking your hand in hers and pulling you up. “I won’t let you mope around all day because of him!” You sighed “I don’t even have a choice do I?” Belly laughed shaking her head. “What do you say we go to the boardwalk? Taylor’s coming in today too” she smirked.

“And maybe someone would be happy to see you I don’t know” she whispered with a grin. ��What are you talking about?” You questioned. “Well you know Xavier..the one that works the lemonade stand?” You nodded your head yes. “Well, he totally has the hots for you.” You cringed at her word choice. “He does not!” You laughed. “Oh, he does! you were too busy ogling my brother last summer you didn’t notice him ogling you.” she poked your side teasingly.

“Now let’s go!”

~

“Stay still before I poke your eye out” Taylor groans finishing up your eyeliner. You were now at the Fisher’s beach house getting ready to go down to the boardwalk. You laugh pulling away “I think that’s enough…if you make my eyeliner any thicker I’d cry!” Taylor playfully pushes your head away. “Sorryyyyy i want to make Xavier fall to his knees when he sees you!” You frown when she brings that name up. Sure, Xavier was a nice guy…and he was cute…but he wasn’t Steven.

You’d always imagined Steven being your first everything. First kiss, first date, first time. It was something you’d dreamt of all this time.

“Yeah…im going to get a snack before we head out do y’all want anything?” You ask heading towards the door. Both girls gave you a sympathetic smile shaking their heads no.

As you reached the kitchen you stopped in your tracks. Steven turned from looking into the fridge. You made eye contact for about 5 seconds before you beelined for the cabinets. “Hey,” Steven broke the silence as you pulled out a granola bar. You felt the warmth of his stare and turned finding him now leaning against the counter. “Hey…” you whispered looking anywhere but his face. “So you gonna tell me what happened last night?” Steven crossed his arms around his chest.

“Just didn’t feel up for it anymore ..” You shrugged nonchalantly. “That’s it?” Steven scoffed. “Yeah…that’s it” you whispered about to walk away. “What’s going on? I’m like so confused right now.” Steven gently gripped your arm. “Nothing just forget it…it’s not like you wanted to go anyways.” you rolled your eyes. “And what makes you think that?” He muttered eyes scouring your face for the truth. “Um, I don’t know let’s see …you quite literally ignored me this entire week!” You responded sarcastically.

“I didn’t mean to. I had a lot of shit on my mind alright?” Steven uttered softly. It almost felt genuine. The words he spoke just last night almost became liquid. “Yeah like what?” You whispered eventually looking into his eyes. “You can tell me..” You spoke gently stepping into him closer. No matter how much he’s hurt you. Steven would always make you melt. “Nothing let’s just forget about it…he pulled away opening up the fridge once again.”

It was like a switch was flipped. How he went right back to that cold shoulder he had been giving you all week. “You're a fucking asshole” You spewed, already ready to walk out of the kitchen. “Where are you going?” He abruptly spoke again. “The boardwalk…you know? so I won’t annoy you here.” With that, you left a confused and remorseful Steven behind.

~

“Hey, look y/n why don’t you go get a lemonade?” Belly suggested with an eyebrow raise. Shit. you were hoping they forgot about that. “Guys I don’t feel up for this..” You pouted looking between both Taylor and Belly. “Noooo go talk to him! you look hot as fuck.” Taylor gently grabbed your face giving you a mini pep talk.

“What if Xavier wants to hang out..I cant just ditch you guys?!?” You were stalling and they knew it. “We’ll be here waiting for you” Belly smiled. “Just try to have fun alright? But hey if you don’t really want to do it …we’ll back off” She narrowed her eyes at Taylor. “No…I’ll go” You laughed giving both of them a hug “Thank you guys.i really appreciate this.” You’d definitely still be moping around in your room about Steven if it wasn’t for Belly and Taylor. They both wished you luck as you headed straight for the lemonade stand.

As soon as he spotted you. The biggest smile spread across his face. “y/n? damn, it’s been so long” Xavier greeted you with a hug. “It’s only been a year!” You playfully ruffled his curly hair that sat atop his head. “That’s way too long…I enjoy seeing pretty girls year-round.” He spoke smoothly, he definitely knew how to talk to girls. “Shut up” You laughed pushing him away with not that much force.

“I have an hour lunch break…you up for arcade games?”

~

“So…you seeing anyone?” Xavier asked as he ate a scoop of his mint chocolate chip ice cream. You thought about it for a moment. Technically no you weren’t seeing anyone. But you knew you were still hung up on Steven. A day at the boardwalk with Xavier wouldn’t change that. “It’s complicated…I guess” Xavier sighed “I've been there…it’s rough” You nodded you were curious as to what he meant but you didn’t want to be nosey.

“Hey, look they have street fighter..” Xavier smirked. “Want to go a couple of rounds?” You nodded immediately pulling him towards the game. “Mhhm loser buys the winner a funnel cake!” You suggested with a chuckle. “Ouuu im so down y/n” Xavier squeezed your hand that held his quickly striding towards the arcade game.

Just two more steps, Just two more steps and you’d be fine. The rowdy yelling completely threw you off. You stopped in place looking behind you where the voices were coming from. You had no time to move out of the way, no time to prevent this from happening.No time to stop the trio of boys that you knew all too well. Suddenly a body collided with Xavier, the force immediately making your intertwined hands lose. “Dude, what the fuck?” Xavier groaned. It was then that you snapped back into reality. Eyes wide when you noticed Xavier’s ice cream now all over his shirt.

“What’s up? how are we doing?” That voice full of humor made you scoff. Steven stood tall a smile on his face. You hated that it kind of made your heart flutter. “Steven, what is your problem?” You gestured towards Xavier’s now ice cream stained shirt. “He’ll be fine y/n it’ll wash out.” Steven laughed, but once he noticed you didn’t find this funny at all he frowned. “I’m sorry man, I just came over to say what’s up..” You ignored Steven’s apology not believing he meant it. “Hey want me to help you get cleaned up?” You asked Xavier voice full of concern.

“No.I got it…I’ll see y’all later.” Xavier spoke nonchalantly as he walked away. When he was out of eyesight you brushed past steven heading out the door.

“Y/n” Steven immediately followed behind you. His long legs make it easier for him to catch up with you. “You embarrassed me” You stopped outside the arcade, letting him pull you to the side. “Embarrassed? sorry to interrupt your little date” Steven scoffed. “It's not a date we were just hanging out, why do you care?” You groaned running your hands down your face. “Maybe because just yesterday you were supposed to hang out with me?” Steven spoke definitively.

“Oh my god, just earlier you agreed to forget about it,” you said with an eye roll. “It was dumb, stop acting like you care just go home Steven I did you a favor.” He shook his head “What are you talking about right now?” Steven pulled you in closer, one of his hands placed on your waist. The other coming to the side of your face, willing you to look at him.

“I heard you.i heard everything,” you spoke up voice hoarse. Steven’s heart carried pain at the tears that stood brimming in your eyes. The realization was clear when he made the connection. “And you know..who cares what Jeremiah and Conrad think! what hurt the most was you.” You shrieked. You hated that you were crying in front of him. You hated that when he hauled you against his chest you felt secure.

“I'm sorry baby... I'm sorry” Steven sounded voice vulnerable. Leaving kisses atop your head. “Why would you say that?” you sobbed breaking down in front of the boy who caused it. “I didn't mean any of it” Steven brought your face between his hands once again. “But you said it..it still fucking hurts Steven.”

You wiped your face getting prepared to pull away and walk back home.

“Wait, please let me talk to you.” Steven begged. “okay” you replied being prepared to cry all over again. “My head has been all fucked up..and that isn't an excuse I know” Steven looked down as if he couldn't construct the next words. “Please don't shut me out.” you pleaded gently. “I want you...i have all this time.” Steve confessed for the first time.

“—And I didn't want to fuck anything up we've..been so close all our lives if I ever messed that up I would never forgive myself.” It's as if you were dreaming, the boy you loved stood in front of you disclosing his feelings for you. “And what? this whole week of you acting cold towards me, were you trying to avoid your feelings?” Steven bobbed his head “Yes, if I lied to myself it would make lying to everyone else easier because the fucking truth is I want you so bad” You didn't tell him but at that moment you forgave him.

“And you called me the annoying one?” You giggled pushing on his chest gently. “Right now we could have been making out on the beach….but noo you had to be a brooding boy” Steven tickled your side, causing you to squirm in his arms. “Yeah, my fault can I kiss you now? been practically wanting to my whole life.” Steven threw his head back fake pouting setting one hand over his chest. You figured you'd throw his words right back at him. “You're so desperately desperate”

Steven smirked “Yeah for you? I am” Those words welcomed a whole lot of beautiful feelings. At that moment is when Steven bent down bringing his lips down onto your own. As your lips moved together, butterflies erupted in your belly. You smiled against his lips when you both needed a breath. “Hey, by the way, your not off the hook.. I'm still sort of pissed at you.” You declared pointing a finger into his chest.

“Yeah, I figured” He laughed wrapping his arms even tighter around you. “How about I make it up to you this whole week? I'm taking you out on dates…ill even get on my knees if I have to. I'm going to follow you around like a puppy.” Steven rambled on. You laughed out loud covering your mouth with your hands. “Oh, it's funny?” Steven raised an eyebrow suggestively. “Yeah, you're such a loser.” You joked.

Before Steven could respond you tugged him into another kiss. Perhaps everything wasn't one hundred percent fixed. But you and Steven were finally here together. You and Steven were finally in each other's arms that's all that mattered. You’d figure out the rest together.

tags 🤍: @gillybear17 @snowsharkk @tesssastle @conradsupporterr @alyssa-cabrera @eranthisphiny @xoxoloverb @lostaurorax @lanisdreams @alexzluvz @lalaland-notfound @liltimmyst @unsaidjaelineose @buckys2thicc @lilygreennn @t8lzw @medusaslilsister @1-800-stilinski @yazmi710 @j-brielmalfoy @ashcannotwrite @colbysbrocks @exonct07 @multilover19 @mimisparkle12

@littlefreaksatellite @vintagebitc @lexi-2004 @melllinaa @xcallmetaniax @brizzlessizzler @haroldpotterson @livinginaglasspalace @delicatekidpeanut @queenanababy

@drinkawinchester @sarahbutnot @salvatoremikaelson54 @furiouscopsherduniversity @marrigold-2002 @angeliquelunasstuff @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @daphnen21 @ietss @imanaforever @itsreynasworld @she-is-a-happy-girl @joeybandthings

@kateisintrouble @stvrdustalexx @fictionisjustbetter @whezzy223

@conradssupporterr @clubmeredith13 @fatduck45 @trampstampz @fangirl-kimora

@just-let-me-fangirl-in-peace @reenfluffmarshmallow @kaz-mf-brekker

@yazmunson @bookg1rl @hockey-lover86

@just-a-pink-lady @moo-b1tch

[tizeline]

Hello ooohs! I just wanted to say that I adore your AU and just can't get enough of the change in dynamics for Rise!!

Your designs are incredible (( especially Leo's!! He is so adorable <3 )) and I get so excited each time you post!

So I have a question I want to ask: I have a huge soft spot a mile wide for Leo/Splinter family bond dynamic. I just turn to mush every time their familial bond is portrayed in comics/fanart/ and fanfiction.

Anyway! My question is: do Leo and Splinter develop a close relationship with each other later in the AU after meeting for the first time? I mean it has been shown how much of a fan boy Leo is for Splinter XD. Can your provide more insight into it and what Splinter thinks of the other three kids?

I also wanted to bring up a small error in The Cell part 3 that I noticed

For Donnie: "that's " was it supposed to be "that" ?

If not then I'm sorry for nitpicking your work. I just figured I'd help but my apologies <3 I still want to stress that I adore this AU so much and in extension; platonically adore you!! Keep being the best that you can be and take care!

Love,

🌹

Thank you!

And skfskbdwlskdisj yessss I love Splinter's and Leo's dynamic you're so real for that. And yeah, out of the of the Drax Bros, Leo is the one who ends up growing the closest to Splinter, both because he's been a secret Lou Jitsu fanboy for years at this point, but also because Leo was the first to change his mind on the evil world domination plan. Leo freed Donnie from imprisonment and tried to help him stop The Foot and The Shredder in the season 1 finale, and I imagine Splinter would be quite appreciative of that.

Not to mention, after Leo technically betrayed his family (even if it was for good reasons) Leo's and Draxum's relationship is a bit tense to say the least. And we see in the show that Leo has a tendency to seek out extra father figures, so in the AU Leo would be quite enthusiastic to recieve any positive attention from Splinter.

Splinter I imagine would feel rather guilty about not being able to rescue any of the turtles aside from Donnie when he fled Draxum's lair. He'd wanted to prevent Draxum from raising them as soldiers, so in failing to do that Splinter would continue to worry about how they were doing even years after the incident. After encountering the Drax Trio again years later, he'd be relieved that they don't seem to be TOO traumatized or anything, but they ARE still child soldiers, so that's a yikes.

That being said, while Splinter would've liked to find a way to get the other turtles away from Draxum, his priorities very much lie with Donnie. Considering how powerful Draxum is, and how Big Mama would also be looking for him, Splinter couldn't risk going back to the Hidden City to try to get Donnie's brothers without risking both his own and Donnie's safety. So he decided to cut his losses and play it safe by laying low in NYC and putting as much effort as he could into only protecting Donnie. This stays the same even after Donnie runs into his brothers as a teen, Splinter feels no ill will towards the other three turtles, but they WERE raised by Draxum so he does not trust them. Leo gains his trust after helping Donnie in the season 1 finale, but it takes some more time for him to start fully trusting Raph and Mikey because he wants to be sure that they're not gonna switch back to being evil or something and try to kidnap Donnie again.

Splinter's relationship with Draxum is the same as in the show, Splinter hates Draxum, Draxum hates Splinter, and there is NO underlying homoerotic tension between the two of them WHATSOEVER!

... Anyway, with that concluded, that IS a typo goddamit. I do appreciate people pointing out spelling and grammar mistakes in the comics I make, so thanks for that. But also it's a small enough mistake that I'm probably just gonna leave it be, I'm to lazy to fix it XD

[ryker-writes]

to say that I'm obsessed with your broken siblings series is an understatement

i LOVE them it's just so comforting for some reason and i had an idea about one with epel, but then you posted the Leona one and i just need the no forgiveness ending

the pain my heart needs

but i'll still tell you my epel idea obviously

so imagine growing up with epel as your brother, always admiring him for his hard work and outgoing personality and that even tho he looks cute he can still beat ass

but then you get to nrc and he changes, and doesn't spend as much as with you as you guys used to, imagine vil separating you bcz you're not a good example for epel (+bonus points if reader is part of savannaclaw and epel gets bitter bcz they were always the fragile sibling and yet he was the one in pomefiore)

i don't imagine this relationship as angsty as the others, i can imagine epel getting over his jealousy pretty fast if it meant hanging out with them rather than listening to vil

it's actually really hard for me to imagine epel being a bad brother to his siblings, i think he just wouldn't realize they're hurting bcz he's too busy with his own problems

finally had some motivation so here we are! I completely agree with you that Epel's probably isn't as angsty because Epel actually would be a good sibling lol, but for the sake of angst, I deliver

Request Rules and Masterlists

Broken Sibling relationships

Epel as a sibling (Broken relationship)

You and Epel used to be very close!

When you were younger, the two of you used to play together a lot

Being some of the only kids around the same age in Harveston, you two spent a lot of time together

But you two were very different...

Epel had always been stronger than you were. He would show you how to do a lot of work on the farm, and he never let anybody just walk over him

You admired him!

In a way, you looked up to him and wanted to be like him. While he was stubborn and fierce, you were more calm, and weaker than him

But that never stopped you two from being close and spending all your time together!

That was...until you went to Night Raven College

You both had been very exited to go to NRC

In fact, you two were practically attached to each other before the entrance ceremony

The magic mirror called his name, and told him "Pomefiore"

it was unexpected, but you were happy for him! He certainly was cute enough get into Pomefiore, and he had the spirit of tenacity. There was a part of you that was optimistic about getting into Pomefiore with him

But then the mirror called your name, and said "Savannaclaw"

You felt your stomach drop at the word. Savanaclaw was known to be a very athletic dorm and filled with stubborn and tough people, so why were you put there?? It seemed like a dorm much better fit for Epel, not you

Had the magic mirror somehow gotten the two of you confused? Shouldn't it have put Epel in Savannaclaw? But the magic mirror doesn't make mistakes with this kind of thing

Savannaclaw was very overwhelming for you. Without your brother by your side, it was very tense. Everyone there was much different from you, and it was hard to feel like you belonged there with all of them

At least you could still spend time with your brother outside of dorms, right?

Wrong.

Anytime you went to Pomefiore, you were turned away by some Pomefiore student

"You're too much of a distraction."

"We don't need any Savannaclaw brutes here."

"You'll taint his beauty."

"Epel has more important things to worry about."

"Can't you just take a hint? We don't want you here."

Each and every time, you were told you weren't wanted there, and that you shouldn't be around Epel

While originally you kept trying, it got pretty disheartening after a bit to hear repeatedly that your brother didn't need you there or that you weren't welcome near him

When you kept trying, you were eventually met with the housewarden himself, Vil Schoenheit

"You clearly can't take a hint, can you? You are not welcome in Pomefiore. You would be nothing but a bad influence on Epel, and I will not stand for Pomefiore's reputation to be tarnished by you."

His tone left no room for arguments, and he left immediately after

It really started to feel like Epel himself didn't want you there at this point, and it hurt you

Eventually, you stopped trying. They made it clear you had no place in Pomefiore, and you would forever be part of Savannaclaw

It felt hopeless

You had once been so close to your brother, but now, you can't even talk to him

It's as if the two of you were in entirely different worlds now

[hazelsmirrorball]

Rockstar Girlfriend VI. | Hazel Callahan

Rockstar! Hazel Callahan x Popstar! Reader

Summary: Hazel Callahan and Y/n L/n have to be in a pr relationship, but both of them can stand each other. 

Warnings: Enemies to lovers! Enemies to lovers! Enemies to lovers! Angst, Fight (not physical) Not proof read. Sorry for any mistakes, English isn't my main language. 

a/n: I’m back after a while!! Sorry for being MIA. I don't know how to feel about this but I'm really thankful for all the support. Lots of new things coming soon. love you guys.

part one. part two. part three. part four. part five.

The tour was canceled. 

Everything Y/n had worked for went down the drain. Not only had she lost the tour she risked everything for, but she had lost her bandmates' trust. They were losing followers by the minute and receiving hate left and right. All that success she had gained because of Hazel was almost gone. 

The moment everyone found out about Hazel's outburst, the show was canceled with a blink of an eye. They could hear the cries and screams of fans outside. Y/n couldn’t bear to listen, she felt bad, guilty even. Management said that her band couldn’t perform because they were only the openers, so karma was biting her ass quickly.    

But after one show became two and then two became five, management canceled the whole tour, every single date. They claimed that they couldn’t do anything without Hazel, their star. Y/n tried to be positive that maybe Hazel was joking around and that she was going to come back but when management canceled the tour, her feet finally hit the floor. The tour was over before it even started. The hop of the wave of success both bands were having was cut short. The most anticipated tour of the year was canceled due to mental health issues from one of the band members. That was what got posted on the band's page and every news article. 

But Hazel made it her job for people to know that, that wasn’t the case. If the tour was canceled she wanted people to know the real reason, no more tricks, no more lies and no more fake love. Y/n felt her heart stop when her phone started to blow up with notifications and her eyes landed on a video Hazel had posted on instagram after being MIA for two weeks. 

That was when “Mean” was born. 

“Hi guys! I know I’ve been gone for a while and all of a sudden the tour got canceled. But I’m here to tell you guys that we are currently working to get your back running again. This time we decided it was best to get new openers. Anyways, on my little break I decided to write this song I really hope you guys enjoy!” Hazel said to the camera starting to strum her guitar. Y/n felt her heart drop every second that passed by. If she was already losing everything with a blink of an eye it wouldn’t surprise Y/n if what was left of her career ended just because of that song. 

hazel.callahan via instagram

liked by bottomstheband, y/nnn, and others

hazel.callahan rehearsals for tour are the shit! I missed this a lot, can't wait for tour to start <3

view all 1,550 comments

hazelsbottoms she's backkkkkkkk

user101 mother is back, hope tour doesn't get cancelled this time.

pjandhazeparis sorry to disappoint but I'll be a groupie for life

bottomsupdates why is y/n lurking in the likes? hasn't she done enough

| ynloveshazel please leave y/n alone

| bottomsupdates she's the one lurking her comments

Hazel had uploaded an acoustic version of a song she had written through her break in an attempt for people to understand what she was going through. It was something new, different from the songs she was used to writing for herself and other people. The song quickly took the world by storm gaining everyone’s attention. Fans had caught up quickly with who the song was written for, making it their job to make Y/n’s life a living hell. Her band's account was barely existent by the minute and management was going insane.

Y/n couldn’t let things slide. She had three options, let her pr team do everything for her, clap back and deny the allegations, or attempt to do a song just like Hazel did. The thing was, Y/n was already used to Hazel’s constant help writing songs and honestly she kinda missed spending midnights with her writing songs. She missed how Hazel would slowly touch her skin in an attempt to get her attention or how she got lost in her blue eyes while she tried to explain the chorus of the song. Y/n missed Hazel. She hated herself for running things with her. Things were finally different, this time Y/n didn’t hate Hazel, Hazel just hated Y/n. 

She was going to make things right, possibly ending her career. But it was worth it. If Hazel heard the song, she could lose everything and she wouldn’t care. 

Y/n propped her camera hitting record while sitting in front of it, letting out a sigh. She slowly strummed the guitar she barely knew how to play but all she could think of was all the times Hazel had attempted to teach her how to play it.

“This song is for someone special in my life that I treated so badly. I know I fucked up and I wished I could go back to december, they day I met you and start all over”

y/n's instagram

liked by bottomstheband, ynnnn, and others

y/nnn but if we loved again, I swear I’d love you right

comments have been deactivated

Y/nnn let out a sigh as she looked at her phone flooding with notifications. At least if she was gone for social media, she was certain Hazel had heard the song. Maybe she could get another chance or another life where they could get together with no mistakes.  Y/n’s thoughts got interrupted by a harsh knock on her door. She quickly walked towards it, ready to face her neighbor. But she felt her heart drop when she noticed the familiar blue eyes she had fallen in love with. Y/n’s eyes wandered all over her trying to tell if she was real or an act of her imagination due to the lack of sleep. But as the words slipped out of her mouth she knew it was all reality. 

“My guitar.” Hazel replied, playing with her feet. Y/n furrowed her eyebrows and looked at her confused. 

“What do you mean, my guitar? How do you know where I live?” Y/n responded leaning against the doorframe trying to get a better look at Hazel. 

“My guitar. You have my lucky guitar, I saw it in the video you posted. Now, can you please give it back” 

“No.”

“What do you mean no? It’s mine, L/n.”

“You don’t speak to me, drop a diss track on my name and expect me to give you back you guitar” Y/n exclaimed while looking at Hazel with a surprised look on her face. 

“Are you insane? You do know that all of this is not my fault, right? I was willing to do anything for you but you preferred the fame over me. You fucked up your own career and you fucked up with me. Yet, I came here, to your apartment and you still want to act like the victim instead of saying your sorry. You know what stays with the stupid guitar. I don’t want it anyway. You want to play a game that I’m really tired of playing. I really don't understand why are you like this.” Hazel exclaimed loudly pulling on her hairs.

"I like you Hazel and I'm like this because I know I screwed up the only good thing in my life" Y/n said loudly leaving Hazel with her mouth wide open not knowing what say.

At least he got the chance he desperately needed.  

thank you for reading

previous part.

[room-surprise]

Hey! Fun question, how do you think an in-canon kabumisu confession would go? People keep portraying mithrun as blunt and straightforward about their relationship, but would he be scared to tell kabru in the chance that he'd say no and leave? Is the desire to just be in a relationship with kabru, or is the desire of not wanting to scare him off greater than that? I'm so starved on the lack of post-canon kabumisu content, they make me go crazy

As usual, I'll try not to go into TOO much detail because then I won't be motivated to write fic about it... and I AM planning to write a post-canon Kabumisu fic anon, so don't worry. I'll get there eventually :3

They make me go crazy too 😔

I think Mithrun's a complicated guy with complicated emotions. Even when he was "empty" in the dungeon he actually showed a lot of feelings - smug satisfaction, annoyance, anger, even a little bit of subtle happiness.

So while I DO think he will still be blunt in general, I also think it's a mistake to assume that means he doesn't feel things and won't have anxieties and insecurities just like any other person.

Mithrun used to be WILDLY insecure, and jealous, and paranoid. He just stopped caring about anything, but if, like the end of the manga suggests, he is going to try to START caring again, he will then start to have feelings, too.

I think Mithrun is intensely aware of his own "undesirability", that's one of the reasons he's BEEN so depressed. Most of his self-worth before the dungeon hinged on being "better" than his brother, and better than other people. Then he looses that (or maybe he was never actually better at all!), so what does he have left? And now his youth is gone too, he's middle-aged and lost his "best years" to depression. He's disabled, he's scarred, he's a bastard that nobody wants.

It's a pretty huge fall from "most eligible bachelor in the empire"!

So I think no, he won't just bluntly tell Kabru that he likes him. It will take Mithrun awhile to realize how he feels, and once he does, he'll be afraid to reach out, so he's going to do what I call "playing silly little elf games". He's going to try and flirt via writing letters and sending gifts, to hint that he likes Kabru.

Luckily for Mithrun, Kabru also knows how to play Silly Little Elf Games (he's an Olympic champion), so he picks up the signals and starts reciprocating, though he's also uncertain and worried that he's misunderstanding. Captain Mithrun couldn't be flirting with him, could he? But... what if he is?

(I will go into Kabru's feelings at a later date anon i promise.)

I think the thing that will ultimately push Mithrun to act is the fear that he'll miss his chance. Mithrun realizes Kabru is a limited time deal that he can only enjoy for the next 60-something years, and he wants every minute of that time for himself, no matter how much it will someday hurt to lose Kabru.

And he also knows that Kabru is very handsome and charming, and he can't expect Kabru to wait for Mithrun to get himself figured out. Someone else will swoop in and snatch that man up, so Mithrun has to hurry.

ALL OF THAT SAID... I think their confession is a lot less of a confession, and much more "we have both been picking up these signals of interest for months/years, and finally one of us pushes it a little bit further than we've ever pushed it before and we acknowledge the unspoken thing that has been growing between us."

Maybe it's a hand resting on someone's leg, or a gentle touch on the arm. Maybe it's leaning in so their shoulders touch. Maybe it's looking into each other's eyes a little bit longer than normal.

Probably it involves both of them admitting "Spending time with you makes me happier than anything else in the world. Whenever we're apart all I think about is when I'm going to see you again. I spend hours composing letters to you in my mind. I want us to spend our days together, no matter what shape that takes."

It's very vulnerable and scary for both of them, and I think they're both DEEPLY relieved after they finally get it out, and they don't get rejected. They know each other so well, and they're so good at reading people - they both thought that the other might feel the same way, but it's so scary to take that leap of faith and hope that they're right.

And just for the record, I think that Kabru worries about if Mithrun will be interested in sex or not, because sex is something that matters to Kabru, but what if Mithrun just doesn't have any desire for it?

And so before they get into a relationship Kabru has a long hard think about it, and decides that even if they never have sex, he wants to be in a romantic relationship with Mithrun anyway, because just being around him makes him feel happy, and understood, and like he isn't alone anymore. There's someone who sees him as he is, all the good and the bad, and says "I love you anyway."

And Kabru decides that he's willing to just jerk off for the rest of his life if that's the price of this relationship that he wants.

Luckily for Kabru, I think Mithrun does want to have sex with him, but I like to think that Kabru thinks through all the possibilities and decides that no matter what they end up doing together, being with Mithrun is worth it.

[aequorin-fr]

About Account Closures, Banxiety, etc

Good morning, Flight Rising Tumblr!

I posted a reblog not that long ago (this morning) responding to banxiety concerns. It appears to have been eaten by Tumblr, which happens; but I know a lot of you are concerned and there's a lot of misinformation and misunderstandings flying about. So I'm going to go ahead and repost this directly to the tags so anyone with concerns or anxiety can see this <3 (06:47 Flight Rising server time: Title edited to be clearer.)

—————

Oh dear, there's been quite a misunderstanding. What you've described here isn't true and likely to send our players into a banxiety panic. I'm sure that's not what you meant to do and I'm happy to clarify where I can!

We're fully aware people can change physical locations throughout the day which means their IPs will change. Some folks play or check in from home, school, work, a friend's house, etc. That means their account will log multiple IP addresses on any given day, sometimes within a thirty minute period.

Example: Player accesses on their school network —> School lets out —> They access via mobile data on transit —> Player then logs in on their home network

Closing accounts for having multiple IP addresses associated with them—especially in the mobile era!—would be wrong. And, frankly, absurd.

Account closures are based on activity data and reviewed by staff. Do we always get it 100% right? No, of course not. We're human. We make mistakes. Sometimes we do close an account in error and upon review, reopen the account. And sometimes it even means an account we're almost certain is cheating stays open a bit longer, because of that chance we're wrong.

Unless by "moving stuff over" you mean funneling to a new account, because our Terms of Use are clear that players agree to register only one account per individual. Multiple accounts provide a player not only with multiple opportunities for dailies and Roundsey, but access to various Flight Forums (including private Flight Dominance planning!) not just their original Flight, ways around our block feature, and the means to scam players during trades, giveaways, etc. The above ranges from cheating and gaining an advantage over others to outright harassment.

Now, there is also friend and family member funneling, where someone stops playing for themselves and just starts sending the earnings from their dailies or festivals to their friend or family member. That's still cheating and we've been clear about that for some time now.

Finally, we don't discuss account actions with third-parties and we don't discuss them publicly for privacy, security, and safety reasons. Even when the player who lost their account takes to the forums or social media with claims that are untrue, exaggerated, or minimize/downplay the violation that lead to the closure of their account. Unless they've taken the extra step to alter a screenshot as "proof" we said or did something we didn't do, we can't engage with their claims. This means the community will only see one side of the story, one version of events.

And as a note for anyone following along and concerned about their account, we do have an article in our Knowledge Base that explains account penalties: Account Penalties Explained.

I hope this helps clarify the confusion and concerns surrounding account closures! You don't have to worry about logging multiple IPs, moving, playing with your friends or family, etc. <3