#sad boi hours at 2 pm

[leafostuff]

Me: "good morning me, i wonder what is going on today in the kpop commu-

*newjeans official departure from ADOR*

Me: "oh...well yeah, it was bound to happen with everything surrounding them, but i do hope thats the only ne-

*loossemble contract ends out of nowhere*

Me: "oh wow...that's sad, i really enjoyed listening to them, and it was kind of a way for me to still vibe with loona, but it cant get any wors-

*fromis_9 announces their contract ending in December 31st*

Me: "... Can i just go back to sleep please?"

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 LOST IN THE DARK (THEN I FOUND YOU)

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: with a blizzard rocking yokohama, you find yourself seeking refuge in nakahara chuuya's apartment because, somehow, his building is the only one that has working generators... yet you find yourself becoming a bit suspicious (and concerned) when you realize the one person you expected to be there isn't. so you decide to go looking for him yourself, forcing chuuya to come along, and you end up maybe biting off more than you could chew.

wordcount: 8.2k; sfw; fem!reader, pm!reader, i don't think any other warnings necessary but lmk if i've missed any

AUTHOR'S NOTES: ughhhhhhh i was not going to post today BUT 1) i remembered that it was ghostienon's birthday yesterday (HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!) and 2) sophie said she was sad so i forced myself out of bed to edit and format. i hope you guys enjoy the background to how reader and dazai started living with each other ;) i love being able to write them as stupid teens HAHAH if u guys can't tell. we also get some hints as to mori's opinion on her and dazai's growing relatioship in this installment, though that will have its own dedicated fic <.<

“God, it’s fucking cold.” Chuuya shivers, tucked beneath a blanket in his apartment, scowling out the tall windows looking over the city. “When will this storm end? I swear it's never ending."

A blizzard has been tearing through the entire Kanagawa prefecture the past two days, and right now, Yokohama is taking the full force of it, has been since three am. The harsh winds knocked the power out hours ago, and none of the building’s generators are working. The easternmost building, the one where you live, was the first to go, so you dragged yourself all the way across to the westernmost building to force your way into Chuuya’s apartment, the only building that’s power was still holding strong by the time you made your decision.

Evidently, you were not the only one that had that idea. Ozaki Kouyou sits primly in a bundle of furs as she reads through mission reports from her subordinates, Hirotsu Ryuro flips through files on an upcoming mission for the Black Lizards, and the Colonel is berating one of his subordinates over a walkie-talkie in the corner of the room. You and Chuuya are huddled on the couch with each other, trying to keep each other warm as you wait for the worst of this to pass.

“Says you,” you say bitterly, burrowed in three of his blankets as you glare at him. “You’re like a furnace, I think I’m going to freeze to death.”

The power in his building had gone out an hour ago, and being on one of the upper floors, his apartment became chilly quickly. Chuuya scowls at you and his hand darts out to press against the back of your neck. You shriek and give him an accusing look at the feeling of his icy fingers against your bare skin, slapping his hand away hard. He snorts, looking thoroughly smug at his actions and you have half a mind to beat him to death with a pillow.

“Better than being out on the streets, hm, boy?” Kouyou says idly, glancing up from her papers, raising her eyebrows.

You watch as Chuuya’s gaze flickers down to the ground, a guilty expression crossing his face. You don’t know much about what happened last year that led to Chuuya joining the Port Mafia—you do know that evidently he’d been monikered ‘King of the Sheep,’ a small organization of teenagers that had stupidly taken to trying to siphon off territory from the Mafia, and he’d been exiled by his kingdom of orphans courtesy of Dazai. You think maybe he’s probably wondering if they’re still out there, trying to wait out this storm in whatever back alleys they can find.

You nudge your shoulder against his, trying to draw him out of his thoughts, and he gives you a tight smile, one that doesn’t reach his eyes.

At least you guys don’t have to worry about any attacks until the storm passes. 

The Dragon’s Head Conflict has been raging for a month now, you came back to Yokohama at the start of it and it's only continued to escalate with each passing day. There are so many foreign organizations trying to get footholds in Yokohama for the money that started this conflict, the entire city has become a bloody battlefield. You’ve hardly slept the past few weeks trying to work with Mori to figure out a game plan for handling Strain, the biggest threat of this conflict by far, but it’s hard when the Mafia’s warehouses and ports are getting assaulted day after day. 

Chuuya’s been taking on the brunt of the attacks, single-handedly pushing them back, but you know he’s getting tired. You see the exhaustion on his face and the bags beneath his eyes—the storm, as awful as it is, is bringing him a break that he very much needs. And Dazai-

“Dazai.”

You sit up straight, blankets tumbling off of you as your eyes widen. Instantly, you can feel all of the eyes in this room on you.

“What about that bastard?” Chuuya asks irritably.

“Where is he?” you demand. You haven’t seen him since the storm started, don’t know where he is; you don’t even know what building he lives in. You figured that he would have wormed his way into Chuuya’s apartment too when he realized his building lasted the longest with power, but you didn’t even think anything of it until now just because of how cold you were. “Where does he even live, actually?”

A month you’ve been in Yokohama and you’ve never been to Dazai’s apartment. You spend a lot of time with Chuuya up in his, and Dazai usually pops in too whenever you’re there; they come up to yours once in a blue moon. But you’ve never been to his.

“Out in some shipping container in the yards in southern Naka-ku,” Hirotsu answers your question and you turn to look at him, appalled.

“What?” you ask bluntly. “A shipping container?”

“The Boss offered him a nice apartment in the central building,” Kouyou hums. “He refused many times.”

“I wouldn’t want to live in the same building as Mori either,” you say snippily. “He’s out there now? In this storm?”

Kouyou lifts her shoulders in an elegant shrug, raising her eyebrows as she finally looks up at you, there’s something chilly in her eyes that you don’t like as she studies you. Chuuya doesn’t meet your eyes when you give him a pressing look.

“Those containers aren’t insulated,” you continue. “He’ll freeze to death.”

Kouyou scoffs. “That boy won’t be killed by something as mundane as the cold,” she says dismissively. “He will be fine.”

You give her a dismayed look. You’re not too close with Dazai, you’ve only known him for a month, and in that time, you haven’t really had the opportunity to spend much time with him besides the occasional invasion of Chuuya’s apartment. The two of you always seem to have missions scheduled at opposite times of each other—whenever you’re free, he’s gone and whenever you’re gone, he’s free. Sometimes, you think Mori does it on purpose, but you don’t know why.

“It’s blizzarding out there,” you argue. “He’s stick and bones in an uninsulated piece of metal that’s probably buried in snow. We can’t just leave him out there.”

“Leave him be,” Kouyou says sharply, and you’re almost taken aback by her tone, giving her a cool look. “Don’t involve yourself with that boy.”

You draw back at the sternness—you and Kouyou have been on good terms, so you don’t really know where this is coming from, and it pisses you off a bit, but that might just be because you’re cold and already irritable.

“Excuse me?” you gape, looking between her and Chuuya, noticing how Chuuya immediately averts his gaze from you. “Chuuya?” 

“You heard me, girl,” Kouyou tells you firmly. “Keep away from him.”

“Why?” You’re half convinced you’re not hearing her correctly because what does that even mean. Your voice rises as you become more incensed. “What do you even mean? Chuuya hangs with him all the time-”

“Mori has forced the two of them into a partnership,” Kouyou interrupts. “Chuuya has no choice in the matter. You-”

You bristle, about to rise to your feet, but before you can say anything, Hirotsu speaks up: “Kouyou-san is right, hime. The Boss has that boy on a tight leash for a reason, he does not like anything trying to interfere with it. Even you. Especially you.”

Chuuya gives you a look from the corner of his eye. “The Boss is weird about him,” he agrees quietly, but he does seem distinctly uncomfortable, like a part of him wants to go out searching for Dazai. “You’ve had to have noticed.”

Of course, you have. It’s impossible to miss the way Mori hangs over him. He has Dazai shadow him everywhere he goes, never far out of sight. He’s harsher with Dazai than he was even with you back when he first took you in years ago, has impossibly high expectations and refuses to accept failure from him. You think maybe it’s part of the reason why he’s always so careful to ensure that you’re on missions at opposite times—Dazai has shown interest in you since your arrival in Yokohama, becoming giddy like a kid whenever he runs into you, and Mori already warned you not to distract him.

You rise to your feet, shaking your head. “I’m not leaving him out there to freeze.”

“Girl,” Kouyou says, voice tight, finally looking up from her reports again to give you a stern look. “I won’t say it again-”

“Or what?” you ask coolly. “What is he going to do to me? I’ve known Mori longer than any of you. I know what he’ll do if he doesn’t like what I’m doing, it’s not worth leaving Dazai out there alone, especially in this weather.”

You toss off the blankets and storm over to where you’d hung your jacket up, looking back at Chuuya over your shoulder. “Are you coming?” you ask, annoyed. 

Chuuya glances between you and Kouyou nervously before sighing and tossing his own blankets off. “Whatever. You’re bringing him to your apartment. I don’t want his shitty ass here.”

“Whatever.”

“I don’t know why the fuck I agreed to this,” Chuuya spits out complaints as the two of you trudge off the road through knee deep snow to the slope leading down to the shipping yards. “You’re insane. Dazai would not do this for you.”

“I wouldn’t be stupid enough to be in this situation,” you scowl, tossing Chuuya a dirty look before your eyes trail across the shipping yard. “Do you know which container is his? They all look the same.”

“That red one out there, I think,” Chuuya says, pointing out across the shipping yard to one of the few containers not falling apart. You grimace, it’s all the way out in the center of the yard in the deepest parts of the snow. Chuuya sees your displeasure and rolls his eyes. “Come here.”

You yelp when he grabs your arm and yanks you closer to him. The Tainted Sorrow is an ability you’ve become well acquainted with over the past few weeks, but it’s still jarring to feel it wash over you so suddenly. Chuuya gives you a sharp smile when he feels your grip on his arm tighten as he uses his ability to launch the two of you in the air; your stomach lurches at the sudden feeling of weightlessness that spreads through you.

It takes a total of maybe five seconds for him to get the two of you in front of Dazai’s supposed shipping container, and you shiver when the two of you land in the knee deep snow, casting him a dirty look when he keeps himself floating right above it.

“Asshole,” you mutter, ignoring his smug look as you trudge forward to the door of the shipping container. “Dazai! Dazai, are you in there?”

Your voice strains as you shout over the howling wind, grimacing and blinking rapidly at the snow pelting your face. You get no response from inside the container and you give Chuuya a scowl.

“Are you sure this is the right container?” you demand as your fingers enclose around the bitterly cold metal handle.

Chuuya shrugs. “I’m pretty sure.”

“I can’t stand you,” you snap as you try and fail to yank open the container, the deep snow preventing it from budging even an inch.

“Here, move,” Chuuya says, coming to stand next to you, finally dropping down into the snow as he nudges you out of the way to use his ability to pull open the heavy, jammed door.

You squint as you look into the dark container—it’s mostly empty and you’re about to turn on Chuuya for having the wrong one before you notice a chair and a desk in the far back corner. The snow spills into the container as soon as Chuuya gets the door open and you yelp as you slide in, nearly slipping to the floor. 

Chuuya snorts. 

You glare at him, but you have more pressing matters to attend to.

“Dazai,” you call again, frowning when you don’t see him in the container, wondering if you came all the way out here for nothing. Chuuya would kill you. “Do you see him?”

“I’m gonna kill you if we came all the way out here for nothing,” Chuuya says, voicing your thoughts. You wince as he jumps down to stand next to you. “Maybe he went over to those other friends of his? That low ranking guy?”

Maybe, you think, taking a few steps further into the container, eyes straining in the dark to try to make sure he’s not there before facing Chuuya’s wrath and leaving. Just as you’re about to give up, you spot a lump covered by a thin blanket in the corner of the container and you frown. You think at first it’s a pile of dirty clothes until you draw a bit closer and see that it’s moving, a slow and steady rise and fall that could only be Dazai huddled beneath it.

“Dazai?” you repeat again, making your way over to the corner of the container and kneeling next to the lump. Chuuya trails a few steps behind you slowly, pausing when you reach out to snatch the blanket off of the lump. “Jesus, Dazai…”

He’s sleeping beneath the blanket—sleeping or just straight up unconscious, you’re not sure. He looks small curled into a ball in the corner of the container, his skin and lips are paler than usual, breath concerningly slow. You reach out to press your hand against his cheek, feeling how cold and clammy his skin is.

“And you wanted to leave him out here,” you hiss at Chuuya, shooting him an accusing look. To his credit, he does look guilty as he looks down at Dazai, brows twisted and lips curled down, an unreadable look in his bicolored eyes. “Help me get him up.”

Dazai is lighter than you expected—he’s tall and gangly but there’s so little meat to his bones that you can almost lift him up on your own but it’s just awkward because of his height. Chuuya grabs his feet, you grab under his arms; his body is limp, like you’re carrying a corpse and not a living, breathing human being.

“Chuuya, hold on, I’m gonna put him down,” you say before the two of you get to the entrance of his shipping container.

Chuuya grunts as the two of you lower him to the ground, giving you a questioning look. You ignore it, pulling off your thick fur coat and wrapping it around Dazai, trying to warm him up even just a little because you fear that if you bring him out in his thin button-up and slacks, he’s just going to get even more sick. 

“You’re gonna freeze,” Chuuya says with a sigh, shaking his head. He pulls off his own jacket and tosses it at you. “I run hot anyway. Take it.”

“Thanks,” you say quietly, shrugging it over your shoulders and then looking back down at Dazai. “Ready?” 

“Yup,” Chuuya agrees, leaning down to grab Dazai’s feet again.

You grimace as the harsh and bitter winds immediately sting your face, a shiver running down your body. You glance over at Chuuya, whose face is already becoming red with the cold, he looks distinctly uncomfortable although he’s trying to hide it, and you feel a bit guilty. You look to the side, all the way across the shipping container yard up the hill to the road the two of you had come from, all of it covered in several feet of snow.

You realize, a bit dreadfully, that Chuuya will not be able to use his ability while carrying Dazai and you give him an agonized look.

Chuuya looks just as harrowed.

“This is going to suck.”

“Give me your blankets,” Chuuya demands, shivering violently once the two of you get Dazai up to your apartment. 

Luckily, the backup generators had come back on while the two of you were out so you didn’t have to walk up literally nearly forty stories to get to your apartment. The heat is still off though, so it’s freezing and you really need to change into something warmer, but you’re more concerned with the boy curled up beneath your covers, still breathing but still also concerningly slow.

“He’s not looking too good,” you say quietly, reaching out to pull the blankets tighter around him. You brush your fingers across his cheekbone, trying to see if he’ll stir at all, but he remains frighteningly still. “Do you think maybe I should call Mori?”

You don’t want to call Mori and you’re pretty sure Dazai wouldn’t want you to call Mori, but you think that if he doesn’t move or show some kind of life in the next ten minutes, you’re going to have to. As much as you don’t want to get the man involved, you want Dazai to die in your bed even less. You sigh as you take a seat at his bedside, pulling out your phone to try to figure out what exactly you should do if he’s hypothermic.

“Yo, I asked for blankets,” Chuuya says irritably, rifling around your clothes closet for blankets. “Where are they?”

“Downstairs,” you say dismissively, “I thought you weren’t staying.”

Chuuya’s shoulders slump as he scowls at you. “Only long enough for you to figure out if he’s gonna live,” he mutters and then storms downstairs to find blankets as you finally find a website that will load so you can figure out what to do with Dazai.

Be gentle. When helping someone with hypothermia, handle them gently. Only move the person as much as is necessary. Don't massage or rub the person. Vigorous or jarring movements may trigger cardiac arrest.

Move the person out of the cold. Move the person to a warm, dry location if possible. If moving is not possible, shield the person from the cold and wind as much as possible. The person should be kept in a flat position if possible.

Remove wet clothing. If the person is wearing wet clothing, remove it. Cut away clothing if necessary to avoid too much movement.

Cover the person with blankets. Use layers of dry blankets or coats to warm the person. Cover the person's head, leaving only the face exposed.

Monitor breathing. A person with severe hypothermia may appear unconscious, with no clear signs of a pulse or breathing. If the person's breathing has stopped or appears dangerously low or shallow, begin CPR right away if you're trained.

Supply warm beverages. If the affected person is alert and able to swallow, give the person a warm, sweet, nonalcoholic, noncaffeinated drink. Warm drinks can help warm the body.

Well, you think, he’s not conscious for a warm drink and Chuuya changed him into a warm pair of your thick sweatshirts and sweatpants. He’s piled under the blankets in your room and he didn’t go into cardiac arrest from the two of you jostling him out of the shipping yard and into your apartment, so you think the only thing really left for you to do is make sure he keeps breathing.

You can do that.

You turn your attention back to Dazai, chewing the inside of your cheek as you look down at him. You shift into a cross-legged position, hesitantly reaching out to touch his cheek. His skin is cold under your touch but your breath hitches when he finally moves on his own; you almost draw your hand back like you’ve been burned when you see his lashes flutter, but you don’t. Your lips part when he unconsciously leans into your touch, a soft puff of air escaping his lips as he shifts into a more comfortable position, pressing his face into your hand. 

You’re only snapped back to reality when Chuuya walks back into your bedroom, your fluffy blanket from the couch downstairs pulled entirely around him. He gives you a judgmental look, eyes drawing from where you’d very inconspicuously yanked your hand back into your lap before looking back up to your face and your cheeks heats up.

“I was checking his temperature,” you hiss, lying through your teeth. “Don’t look at me like that when you look like an egg.”

“Yeah, okay.” Chuuya rolls his eyes as he waddles over to you, sitting on the bed next to you as the two of you look over Dazai. “How is he?”

“Alive,” you say with a shrug. “There’s nothing else to really do but make sure he keeps breathing. Give him warm water to drink when he wakes up. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

“It’s fine,” he replies awkwardly. “I’ll stay for a bit. Don’t want to go back so Ane-san can scold me anyway…”

You think it’s more that he feels guilty over wanting to leave Dazai out there while he was suffering but you don’t shatter the facade he’s putting up because if he feels bad, it’ll be easier for you to make him do the things you don’t want to do while he’s here.

“Yeah, she’ll probably be mad,” you agree, glancing down at Dazai again, some of your tension easing when you see that his chest is rising and falling a bit more steadily and much more deeply now. “I’m not happy with her.”

“Why?” Chuuya asks.

“What do you mean why?” you ask. “You know why.”

“She was just trying to look out for you,” Chuuya says with a frown. “She’s right, the Boss gets weird about Dazai. I mean, I’m sure you’ve seen it yourself but you haven’t been here the past year. I always thought it was weird that he never introduced Dazai to the Flags like he did for me but… I just don’t think he likes it when people get close to Dazai.”

It is weird, you won’t deny that, but it’s not worth leaving him out there to die. Plus… you remember the day you first met him, his excitement at having someone else his age around, his disappointment when he thought you didn’t like him… he’s just a boy, a lonely one at that, and Mori is cruel for trying to keep him isolated.

“I don’t care what Mori wants,” you say tightly. 

It’s a lie—the thought of doing something that pisses him off chills you to the bone. Your throat spasms as your mind is drawn back to the warzone he found you in; the way he’d give you small smiles and pats on the head all the while telling you that if you couldn’t get a hold of your ability, he’d send you back where you came from. The thought is cold and haunting, a constant reminder that if you can’t prove your worth to him he’ll discard you like a useless tool, but…

Your gaze drifts back over to Dazai, still shivering from where tucked underneath your blankets, but he looks much more comfortable. Much more at peace. You think again of the way he was so happy to meet you. The way he was so bothered by the thought of you not liking him. The way he constantly tries to seek you out even though Mori ensures that the two of you have opposite mission schedules. The way he so instinctively leaned into your touch. 

But maybe just this once you’ll do what you want regardless of Mori’s wishes.

Chuuya gives you a heavy side eye before shaking his head. “Wanna play cards?”

“... Yeah, sure.”

The first time Dazai wakes up, he’s not even coherent.

He doesn’t know where he is, doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, doesn't know who you are, and is panicked over something. Chuuya had left hours ago once the two of you were mostly certain that Dazai wouldn’t suddenly die, going back to his apartment to face the wrath of Kouyou for disobeying her. You’re starting to doze off when you feel him jerk up next to you; he thrashes under the covers as he tries to free himself, nearly knocking you off of the bed.

“Dazai,” you gasp, startled. You shift around to try to get him to calm down and nearly end up with a fist to the face. “Jesus, Dazai, chill.”

You grab his hand and try to pin him down to the bed but it only ends with him thrashing harder, eyes wild, more panicked. You let go of his wrist and he scrambles away, tripping off the bed and onto the floor, yanking the blankets with him. You curse as you follow after him, kneeling on the floor next to him as he scuttles back into the corner like a frightened animal.

He looks… terrible, actually. His skin is pale and clammy, you think he must have developed a fever from the cold. He looks half delirious, his visible eye is glazed over and full of fear and your throat tightens as you lift your hands to try to show you mean no harm. Dazai doesn’t calm down, kicks his feet out when you try to get close and you sigh before stopping a few feet away from him.

“Dazai, calm down, it’s just me,” you say quietly. 

When he finally starts to calm down, you shift forward to place your hands on his ankles, stopping him from kicking out again if something sets him off. When he doesn’t immediately start thrashing under your touch, you take it as an okay to come closer. Scooting against the floor, you come to sit next to him, pressing your shoulder against his. Dazai instantly is leaning into you, body exhausted, head falling against your shoulder.

“We have to get you back up on the bed,” you tell him but you feel him weakly shake his head from where it’s resting on your shoulder. “We have to, Dazai. You can't stay on the floor.”

“Why are you here?” he croaks out. “... Why am I here? Is this your apartment?”

“You were going to freeze to death out there,” you tell him. “I-”

“But why? Why do you care? I don’t-no one cares so why…” Dazai doesn’t even finish the question, tongue loosened in his half-delirious state. He sounds distressed but more than that he sounds confused, like he can’t understand why you would go out of your way for him. Him.

“C’mon, Dazai, back in bed,” is all you say, voice quiet as you shift into a kneeling position, wrapping an arm around his waist to help him stumble back to his feet.

He’s light, but his limbs are awkwardly long so you stumble a bit when he leans his full body weight onto you, nearly tripping over one of his legs as you help him onto the bed. As soon as you get him situated, you reach back over onto the floor to grab the blankets he’d pulled off the bed and tuck him back under them.

His eye tracks you—big and black and empty as you leave his side to grab the chamomile tea you’d brewed when he finally started stirring thirty minutes ago. It’s not as hot now but it’s warm enough.

You sit at his side, shoulder pressed to his and back against the headboard as you lift the mug to his lips. He stares down at the mug for a moment, making no move to drink it, but then he lets his head fall on your shoulder again, pressing his lips to the rim of the mug.

You tilt the mug back, using your other hand to keep his head steady, watching as he takes a few sips before stubbornly turning his head away, pressing his face into your shoulder so that you can’t force him to drink anymore.

“You should take a few more sips,” you tell him quietly. “It’ll make you feel better.”

“No,” he says, voice muffled against your shirt. It’s only when he hears you put the mug back down does he finally lift his face. He still looks entirely out of it, but his gaze still somehow manages to take upon a more accusing look. “Why am I here?”

“I told you why,” you frown, side-eyeing him.

“Why am I really here? Did Mori tell you to come check on me? I don’t need-”

“I came because I wanted to,” you say as you become increasingly more irritated. “I’m not Mori’s lapdog. I do what I want.”

Dazai stares at you, more withdrawn now and an uncertain look in his eye. “But why?” he asks, a bit quieter this time like he can’t possibly fathom why someone would come for him because they wanted to. You almost want to reach down and grab his hand but you refrain. Instead, you knock the side of your head gently against his.

“I told you back when we met that I wanted to know you. Wanted to be your friend,” you say, honestly.

“You didn’t say that,” Dazai accuses, averting his gaze. “That you wanted to be my friend. You didn’t say that.”

“It was kind of implied,” you reply, rolling your eyes and that add a bit more quietly, “I do. I do want to be your friend. And friends look out for each other.”

Dazai’s entire expression shifts at your words, expression crumbling. Just as suddenly as his expression changes, he throws himself back into a laying position, turning away from you and lifting the covers up above his head to hide himself from you. You stare at him, unsure of how to take his reaction—a rejection? Or maybe he’s just flustered? He murmurs something that you can’t hear because it’s smothered by the layers of blankets on top of him.

“Huh?”

“I said that I’m allowing you to be my friend,” Dazai raises his voice, pitched and wobbly, like he’s trying to make it come across more snooty than it actually does. As if it’s a bother for you to want to be his friend. It’s almost funny but you can’t help the way you roll your eyes again. “Be grateful.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” you say sarcastically, “for gracing me with this most honored title.”

You hear him sniffle and then sneeze beneath the lump of blankets. “It is an honored title. You’re welcome.”

You roll your eyes. Again. But you don’t respond this time, resigning to just leaning back against the headboard and grab the book you were starting before you’d started dozing off. You think maybe he might be right—it is an honored title. Dazai doesn’t have many friends, doesn’t let people get too close and certainly doesn’t let them think they mean anything to him. He’s very selective with the people he chooses to associate with.

“The next time you wake up, as your friend, I’m forcing you to eat some soup.”

You hear him grumble but you think he must be too tired to protest because he doesn’t even get any words out before you notice that his breath has evened out beneath the blankets. You sigh and pull them down a bit so that he doesn’t accidentally smother himself to death in his sleep, ignoring the small smile that twitches to your lips as you turn your attention back to your book.

The second time Dazai wakes up, he’s much more alert and entirely more difficult.

“You need to eat something,” you hiss, trying to wrangle Dazai up out of bed. “And you need to drink something, you’ve sweat so much that my sheets are soaked through. You’re going to be dehydrated and then you’re going to feel worse.”

“Go away,” Dazai shrieks, nearly smacking you in the face as he tries to push you away. “Go away, I don’t want your help, just let me go back to the shipping container to die. I don’t-”

“Oh, would you just shut up?” you hiss, taking the pillow he was laying on and whacking him over the head with it hard. Dazai flops back on the bed hard, staring up at the ceiling in disbelief. You raise the pillow again threateningly. “Get up and eat soup or I’ll hit you again.”

“You just whacked me with a pillow while I’m dying of fever,” Dazai says, voice riddled with shock. “I can’t believe you just-”

“Eat the soup,” you demand, winding back your arms again as you prepare to hit him again. 

Dazai gives the pillow a wary look before sitting up and scooching across the bed to the nightstand, staring at the now lukewarm soup with a contemplative expression. “Do you eat or drink soup? It’s liquid, isn’t it? Wouldn’t I be drinking the soup?” 

You stare at him flatly. “There’s carrots in it. You’re eating the carrots, so you’re eating the soup.”

Dazai’s face twists in disgust as soon as the c-word leaves your lips and you know you’ve made a mistake. Everything happens in a split second—you see him look at you from the corner of his eye, you see his gaze dart to the door, and you see his body tense as he prepares to make a break for it.

He doesn’t get more than an inch before you’re bringing the pillow back down on his head, sending him sprawling back down against the mattress with a loud ‘oof.’

“You can’t just beat me until I eat the soup,” Dazai protests loudly, disgruntled as he looks around trying to figure out if he can try to make another break for it, casting the pillow a wary look. Luckily, even if he is more coherent now, his brain and body are still sluggish from the fever. “You can’t.”

“Watch me,” you say, and just for good measure, you whack him with it again.

“Stop! I didn’t even move that time,” he cries out. “Now you’re hitting me just to hit me!” 

“You’re not eating it fast enough.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair!”

Dazai bristles like an irritated cat as he stares at you, but his shoulders slump as he drags himself back over to the nightstand. You’re almost insulted, honestly, considering you spent an hour trying to figure out how to cook it properly for him, but you simmer down when he lifts the spoon from the bowl.

He blinks suddenly, eyes wide and owlish. “This spoon is large.”

You stare at him. “It’s a soup spoon,” you say flatly. 

“Can I keep it?” he asks, twisting it around to look at it more carefully.

“No, Dazai, you can’t keep my spoon.”

Dazai pouts at you but then lets out a heavy, disappointed sigh as he gives the soup one last wary look before taking his first spoonful of soup. For a split second, you watch with bated breath to see his reaction to it, but then his face lights up as he spoons up another mouthful of the soup. You pretend that you’re not entirely pleased and smug that he likes the soup you made him, but you can’t help yourself from making a snide comment.

“So after all of that, you like it,” you say dryly. 

Dazai scowls. “I’m just hungry,” he disagrees, but his cheeks are flushed pink. “That’s all.”

“Sure,” you agree blandly.

“It’s true.”

You don’t say anything else after that, staring at the wall as Dazai scarfs down the entire bowl of soup because whenever you look at him, he stops mid-spoonful and waits for you to look away again. You think he’s ridiculous and want to roll your eyes, but you also can’t help the fondness that blooms in you as you pull your knees to your chest and wait for him to finish.

It’s not long before you hear the spoon scraping against the bottom of the bowl. When you look over at him, you see the frown on his face as he looks down at the bowl—as if he hadn’t realized that he’d finished all of the soup already. You nudge his shoulder with yours, drawing his attention away from the empty bowl. 

“There’s more in the pot if you want it,” you offer, watching as a conflicted expression crosses his face as he looks back down at the bowl. “It’s gonna go to waste if you don’t. I ate earlier.”

Finally, Dazai mutters, “Only because you’re forcing me.”

You give him a flat look but don’t say anything else, taking the bowl from him and making your wait out of the bedroom to the kitchen. It’s been a little over a day since you first got him in your apartment. It’s dark again, the moon high in the sky and stars glittering prettily—you pause at the towering windows in your living room to look up at the sky and you find yourself thinking of Dazai. 

Or, of his eyes that is.

When you hear people talk about Dazai, they mostly talk about his mass of terrifying feats. They talk about how he’s sixteen and already in command of one of the Port Mafia’s most elite combat squads, they talk about how he’s sixteen and rivaling the Colonel’s success rate on operations, they talk about how he’s on track to be the next promoted executive whenever there’s another opening. They talk about how his blood is blacker than anyone else in the upper echelon, they talk about how he was born to be one of them. You can never tell if they’re scared of him or if they admire him—probably both, and you think they’re probably more scared than anything. 

They also talk about his eyes. Eye. Whatever. Too dark, too emotionless, too dull. Soulless, hollow, creepy. They’re uncomfortable meeting his gaze—they say he’s inhuman, that only a demon could have eyes so hauntingly empty. 

You think they’re wrong, they remind you more of the night sky than anything else.

You love the stars. 

You sigh as you walk over to the kitchen and pour the rest of the soup into the bowl. You heat it back up in the microwave for a few seconds before bringing it back over to the spare bedroom where Dazai is staying. You think you’ve probably not been gone for more than two minutes, but by the time you’re back, Dazai is curled up beneath the covers again, dozing off. 

He doesn’t notice you enter the room and you watch him for a moment, tilting your head to the side as take note of the slow rise and fall of his chest, the way his lashes flutter as his eyes droop shut. There’s still sweat beaded on his forehead, a faint flush over his cheeks that proves the fever is still running him down—you find your lips curving up, you think he’s much more pleasant when he doesn’t speak. 

He only jerks back awake when you take a few steps closer to him, eyes wild with panic as if he was surprised by your presence. He doesn’t seem to recognize you for a moment but when he does, he visibly relaxes, brows furrowing in confusion as if he didn’t realize he’d started falling asleep.

“You can sleep if you’re tired,” you say as you place the soup down on the nightstand and take a seat on the edge of the bed next to him. “I can heat up the soup later.”

Dazai stares at you with an unreadable expression, he looks like he wants to ask you something or say something but his lips remain sealed shut. After a few moments, he sits up silently and shifts into a sitting position. Your shoulders brush and his thigh is pressed against yours as he starts to eat the soup carefully again, slower this time.

Too slow, you realize almost a second too late when Dazai’s head lolls to the side and he nearly drops a whole spoonful of soup onto the bed. Luckily, you’re quick enough to grab the bowl and catch the spoon and soup before it hits the sheets. His head drops on your shoulder and that fondness in your chest starts to spread again. 

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Dazai so at peace before, and yes, it might be because he’s half dead with exhaustion, but you think it’s a welcome difference from the tight expressions you’ve seen from him when you happen to cross paths with him at headquarters. When he’s not Dazai Osamu, but the Demon Prodigy, the Black Wraith, cold and distant, intimidating and cruel, not a sixteen-year-old boy who dislikes carrots and has a fascination with soup spoons. You think back to his refusal to believe that you were helping him of your own free will and you can’t help but frown a bit.

You let him lay on your shoulder for a second longer than necessary before shifting him back into a lying position and tucking him beneath the comforter. You sigh as you take a seat next to him, back against the headboard as you pull out your phone to shoot a text to Chuuya so you can let him know that Dazai is doing better.

You yawn as you think to yourself that you’ll stay a bit longer—watch over Dazai to make sure he doesn’t get worse again before heading back up to your own room… but you find yourself sinking into the mattress, a bit too sleepy and a bit too comfortable…

Dazai feels better the next time he wakes up. 

He yawns as he shifts in bed to nuzzle into the thick blankets and soft pillows. He feels warm, comfortable, surrounded by a familiar and pleasant scent that leaves his defenses dangerously low. A bit alarmed by how at ease he feels, Dazai’s eyes fly open, trying to figure out where the fuck he is and why the fuck he feels so good.

He tries to sit up, but there’s a weight pressed against his side that makes him pause, so he turns his head to the side slowly, unsure of what he’s going to find. He freezes when he sees you propped up against the headboard next to him, fast asleep, neck turned at an uncomfortable angle.

“Friends look out for each other.”

At once, the past day or so comes back to him—most of it is a fog but he vividly remembers him waking up a few hours ago and you whacking him around with pillows until he got some soup in him. He finds his lips curling up into an amused smile as he looks down at you, an unfamiliar warmth spreading through his chest that makes him feel almost… Dazai doesn’t dare to admit it. He’s never had someone take care of him like that before.

He sighs as he reaches out to shift you into a more comfortable position. Carefully, laying you down against the mattress and placing your head on the pillow where his had been resting. He pulls the covers over you and watches as you let out a sleepy hum of appreciation, rubbing your face against the pillow before settling back down into a deep sleep.

His hands drop back down to his lap and he stares at you for a moment, wondering if you meant what you said, wondering if you were telling the truth when you told him Mori hadn’t been the one to send you to check on him, wondering if maybe… 

Wondering if maybe you really did want to be his friend. 

Dazai doesn’t have many friends. He has Oda, but he pretty much forced himself into Oda’s life by almost dying on his doorstep—literally—so he doesn’t think that really counts. Chuuya… well, he pretty much coerces Chuuya into hanging out with him by antagonizing him into video game challenges, so he doesn’t think that really counts either. 

Dazai might not have any friends, actually. 

He decidedly doesn’t like the emotion spreading through him now. It's light and airy and it clings to his black heart dangerously. It blooms in a way that nothing should be able to bloom in the dark. It’s too… feels too close to hope and Dazai knows better than anyone that hope is a dangerous, dangerous emotion—one that he shouldn’t allow to take root in him unless he wants to be hurt in ways that he’s tried to carefully guard himself from.

He should leave.

He should leave now. 

He’s feeling better, there’s no reason for him to stay now that he can move around and think but…

But this bed is so much more comfortable than the floor of his shipping container… The sheets and comforter are warmer than the thin and ripped blanket he uses to cover himself at night… The pillows are so much softer than the clothes he props behind his head as a pillow. Dazai has never slept so well in his entire life—the nights that he is able to sleep are restless and plagued with faces he’d rather forget and voices that haunt him. This is the first time in… well, forever, that he’s been able to sleep peacefully, that he actually feels rested when he wakes up in the morning. The thought of going back to that metal box almost makes his body itch with discomfort. 

He’s just so warm and so comfortable and you smell so nice… and Dazai... for the first time in his life, he feels content.

As soon as Dazai is awake, he feels his eyes drooping back shut just as quickly, breath evening out again as he drifts back to sleep.

“So he’s just… living with you now?” Chuuya asks, baffled.

“I mean, I guess so,” you shrug helplessly. “He just… never left after we brought him there that day.”

Never left and brought his few belongings into the spare room he’d been staying in when he was sick, but you don’t add that part. Honestly, you don’t mind that Dazai has usurped your spare room—your apartment is too big for just you to be living in, you don’t mind the company after spending two years alone in Kyoto and Dazai is fun to be around despite the awful movie he picked on Friday and his terrible taste in food. 

Plus, you think it’s a bit of a much deserved, subtle rebellion from Mori, who has seemed to do everything in his power to make sure that the two of you never have time to interact with each other. You’re still not quite sure why he seems to be against the idea of you and Dazai becoming friends—probably something to do with a future plan of his, or maybe he really is just worried that you’ll distract Dazai from the carefully constructed path Mori has set him down—but you’ve decided that you like Dazai and you want to be his friend whether Mori likes it or not… which is saying a lot, considering you don’t think you’ve ever wanted something more than you want to impress Mori.

He’s not happy with you—you can tell by the disapproving stares and the disappointed comments that make you want to curl in on yourself, and you have a feeling that as soon as this conflict is over with, he’s going to send you right back to Kyoto, but that’s an issue for you to deal with in the future. 

For now, you’ll enjoy not being alone. Not having to watch your back and sleep with one eye open. Having people to rely on. 

Having friends. 

“And you didn’t tell him to get the fuck out?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Why wouldn’t you do that?” Chuuya demands. “What’s wrong with you?” 

“He lived in a shipping container, Chuuya,” you defend yourself, “and I have a spare bedroom, it’s not a big deal.”

Chuuya stares at you for a moment, gaze sharp and accusatory, and then his expression shifts into one of disgust. “No.”

“Excuse me?” you demand, baffled.

“No. No, no, no. No.” Chuuya shakes his head, taking a step away from you. “You need to see a goddamn shrink. There’s something seriously wrong with you.”

“Something wrong with me? What are you even talking about?” 

Chuuya doesn’t even respond, looking severely disturbed as he storms off in the opposite direction, leaving you standing there, perplexed and slightly insulted. 

“What’s the pipsqueak crying about this time? Is it his height or his terrible taste in clothes?” A familiar voice mocks from behind you. 

You brighten a bit at Dazai’s voice, feeling him hanging over your shoulder as he looks over to where Chuuya had left. His cheek brushes yours from how close he is—he has no concept of personal space, you’ve realized in the past few days he’s decided to make himself at home in your apartment, but you don’t really mind.

“Couldn’t tell you,” you answer. “Just ran off mid-conversation.”

Dazai clicks his tongue. “Stupid slug is always getting emotional about something,” he says. “Whatever. More popcorn for me. I finished my assignment early. Movie?”

“You’re not picking this one.”

“What? My movie was great.”

“Hah! If you say so.”

“I do say so, and I have another that you’re gonna looooove.”

“You will literally have to tie me down and clamp my eyes open to make me watch another movie of yours, Dazai.”

“...”

“... Stop looking at me like that.”

“...”

“Dazai!”

[greenorangevioletgrass]

give me a minute (2/2) | chef luca

pairing: chef luca x ex-wife!reader word count: 6.6k warnings: established former relationship, discussions of separation and divorce, discussions of moving on, luca and reader has a son, brief mention of blood and minor injury, smut 18+ (fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, size kink? idk luca's big, dirty talk, creampie) notes: it's finally here! thank you everyone for your patience, i am a slow writer by nature and life gets in the way, but i finally got around to finish it! happy reading, and do comment, reblog, and send me asks to tell me what you think <;3 ✨follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notifications to get alerted for my latest fics ✨

<<< read part 1 here >>>

06.13 PM

Your apartment has never felt so claustrophobic after that little moment you shared with Luca. You try to stay busy in the next hour —tidying up Alfie’s room even after he made it up, checking your email four times, even doing the laundry, for fuck’s sake— as Luca keeps to himself in the kitchen area. Whether Alfie is obliviously enjoying his screen time or purposely ignoring the weird tension between his parents, you’re not entirely sure. Right now, you’re just grateful that he’s not saying anything at the moment.

The boy simply creeps up to the kitchen counter with a shy eagerness about him. “How long ‘til dinner, Dad?”

“3 more minutes, Chef,” Luca answers, focused on the task at hand, so poker-faced that it makes his son giggle.

“I’m not a chef, you’re a chef!”

“Well, where I work, we call everyone in the kitchen ‘chef.’ Out of respect.”

Alfie climbs onto the dining bench in interest, peering up to watch his father set the dish on the plates meticulously. Luca doesn’t miss how the boy deeply inhales the delicious smell in the air.

“Smells yummy.”

“Thank you,” Luca replies, his excitement seems muted although his heart is soaring. He looks up to find Alfie staring at the plate, chin propped up on his little fist. You’ve always said that he looks just like his dad, but in that moment, Luca only sees you. Alfie has the way your mouth tugs ever so slightly into a smile, the way your eyes shine in childlike wonder. In quiet thoughtfulness.

No Michelin star, earned or retained, would ever amount to this.

“Can you go get your mum and tell her dinner’s ready, please?” He softly asks Alfie, as if not wanting to disrupt this peaceful silence. “Thank you, Chef.”

“Yes, chef.” The six-year-old salutes him and pads over to your home office, which doubles as the guest bedroom. The door is open, and he sees you reorganizing the linen closet with your back to him. He hugs you from behind, startling you.

“Oh!” You put your hand on his head, stroking him lightly. “Hey, bub.”

“Daddy told me to come get you and say dinner’s ready.”

“Gotcha. Thank you.” You half-expect him to run off like he usually does, but he lingers, his arms still wrapped around you. “What’s up, bubbie?”

“Nothing.” He buries his face against your side. “Love you, Mommy.”

“I love you too, bubbie.” This makes you smile, pleasantly surprised at this seemingly random admission.

“Love Daddy too, but don’t tell him that,” he whispers as he looks up at you, putting his forefinger in front of his mouth.

“Why not?”

“Sometimes he gets sad when I say that,” he murmurs. “He doesn’t tell me, but I know it.”

Oh. His playful exterior sometimes makes you forget just how emotionally sensitive he is. And it breaks your heart that he can see through the complicated adult emotions with his childlike eyes. 

“Alfie…” you level with him and pull him closer, “Your dad loves you very very much, and I’m sure he’d be happy to hear you say that. He’s just sad because… he’s been away, and he misses you a lot.”

“He should come home, then.”

It’s so simple, the way Alfie puts it. His Dad comes home and reunites with him and you, and his puzzle would piece together perfectly again. And you all live happily ever after. The end.

The truth, of course, is not so simple. But maybe, just for tonight… Maybe you and Luca can sacrifice a few of your own puzzle pieces. For your baby boy.

So you get back on your feet and guide your son out of the room. “Come on, bub. Let’s see what Daddy cooked for us, hm?”

When you and Alfie turn the corner into the kitchen-living area, Luca is wiping the side of the plate neatly. He smiles at you somewhat nervously, like he’s not sure what to do with himself, so you throw him the figurative olive branch.

“Smells amazing,” you compliment him as you and Alfie take your seats. “What are we having, Chef?”

Luca’s eyes light up and your heart stops. You stopped calling him ‘Chef’ long ago, when the moniker became synonymous with workaholism and neglect. But there’s no venom in the way you say it tonight. Call him sentimental, but it reminds him of the early summer days in the tiny apartment you first shared in Chicago.

Of blueberry pies and barely there bumps.

He has to remind himself that this whole ‘happy family’ shtick is just a charade now, it’s all for Alfie, it doesn’t mean anything for the two of us, but he can’t help but miss this.

And little does he know, so do you.

“Well, buckle up, you guys, because we are having…” He carries the plates over and serves it to you and Alfie with a flourish, “Baked sweet potato wedges with Mediterranean dip, and our pièce-de-résistance… Alfie’s Nuggies.”

It looks nothing short of beautiful, with the wedges fanned out like autumn leaves underneath a colorful burst of cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, olives, and feta cheese. The chicken nuggets are rich golden brown against the brilliant white plate. The splatters of sauce (is that Tahini?) is a hint of thoughtful chaos on the dish.

Your six-year-old let out a little noise of awe and amazement next to you, but no sound escapes you—not for the longest time.

“This is…” you look up at Luca as if he would have the word you’re looking for.

But his blue eyes just look a lot like I love you.

“Thank you,” you ultimately say, with absolutely no pretense whatsoever.

And if he does hear an ‘I love you’ hidden somewhere in there… he hopes he’s not imagining things.

*** 

08:37 PM

If you could travel just a few hours back in time and tell yourself that you would spend the whole day stuck at home in a nasty storm with your son and his father that you’re divorcing—and that you’d be okay with it, you would’ve probably scheduled yourself an MRI scan because clearly something is wrong.

But the night is winding down. Luca is tucking Alfie into bed for the first time in months. You are washing dishes in the quiet accompaniment of steady rain and running water, and everything feels just right.

“He’s out like a light,” Luca informs you quietly as he reemerges from Alfie’s bedroom and stops right by the kitchen counter. “Need a hand?”

“Nah, I’m just about done,” you casually wave him off. “You want anything to drink?”

“Uh… what do you got?”

“Scotch, gin…” you pause, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. The sink tap squeaks a little as you shut it off. “...wine.”

His heart skips. Don’t overthink it, he reminds himself. “Red or white?”

“Take your pick,” you shrug nonchalantly. 

Luca reaches up to see the bottles of wine you have in store, and you try not to pay too much attention as his shirt rides up around the waist—or the sleeve, showing off the remnants of Alfie’s crayon work over his inks… you’re just two co-parents hanging out. It’s normal, right?

“What about the Malbec?” he eventually chooses, taking out the bottle.

He’s always loved Malbec—this particular brand of Malbec you brought him when he first invited you for dinner on your third date.

Don’t overthink it, you remind yourself. “Yeah, sure.”

You pick up two wine glasses and set them down on the dining table, shuffling into the corner bench. Luca settles into the other bench, directly against the kitchen counter, pouring the wine onto both glasses.

“How many bedtime stories did Alfie manage to get out of you?” you pipe up, swirling the purplish liquid around.

“Just one…” he sips on his wine thoughtfully. “Although he made me read it three times.”

You smile, bemused. “Which one was it?”

“‘The Bear Who Did.’”

“Ah, yeah. He’s been into that one lately,” you muse. “But… for what it’s worth, I’m glad he asked you to tuck him in tonight.”

The two of you exchange a soft look. A ceasefire. A truce, at least when it comes to your son. Because you really do want Luca to have a good relationship with Alfie.

“Me too.”

“And I’m sorry you had to… make do with spending the day with Alfie here.”

He shakes his head softly. “Nah, don’t be. I had a good time. It’s nice to just hang out… at home.”

At home, the words echo in your head.

With you, they echo in his, loud and unsaid.

“So, uh… how have you been?”

“Ah, you know how it is. Work is kicking my ass—my current client’s only two blocks away, but the house is a total fixer-upper, and Alfie’s… Alfie.” You don’t want to backtalk your own son, although you both know how trying he can be sometimes. “But it’s all good. My mom helps out with Alfie, and Jess insists that I go out and live a little every now and again.”

“And do you? Live a little?”

“I mean, within reason. I can’t go clubbing ‘til 4am anymore. I think I’m getting old…” you stretch your arms, feeling that soreness just from your daily activities.

Luca grins, raising his glass. “I hear you. I don’t even really go out anymore.”

“Seriously?” 

“Mm-hm.”

You make an incredulous face. It would make sense for you not to go out much, with Alfie and everything. But he was alone, abroad… “Why, though?”

He just shrugs lightly. “I’m working. Whenever I’m off, I mostly just… eat or sleep.”

“I somehow find that hard to believe.” You take a dubious sip. You both know how much Luca enjoys grabbing a cheeky pint. He’s British; it’s in his blood, goddammit.

“Oh come on…”

“You don’t even go out drinking or whatever? Meet people?”

His gaze flashes towards you almost playfully. “Do you?”

Your face falls, not expecting to be caught so off-guard with such an innocent question. And upon seeing that, his face falls. Shit. And with that, the air between you shifts so dramatically.

Stupidly, you still try to save the conversation. “Of course my friends and I go out—”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” His voice darkens, his blue eyes piercing through you. 

This conversation is a long time coming. It’s a natural progression of your relationship—or the lack thereof. You separate, you get divorced, and eventually you move on. Two years is a more than acceptable time to start dating again. And still, you phrase out your next words very carefully.

“I’ve been on dates here and there…”

Luca sucks in a slow, calculated breath. “Does Alfie know?”

You shake your head. “It’s nothing serious so far.”

He’s not sure what’s worse, the fact that it’s nothing serious, or that you’re holding out for something serious in the future.

“Look, we both know this is happening sooner or later…”

“I know,” he quickly recovers—or as much as he can recover. He just stares down the stem of his glass.  “It just… It’s a lot to take in, that’s all.”

“I understand.” The wine feels like gravel down your throat, and the words coming out of your mouth feel like throwing up a boulder.

“Because I do miss you.”

Your eyes immediately dart over to his, as if you’re not sure you heard it right. “Luca…”

“I miss you everyday. I miss us. I miss everything we used to have.”

Your heart catches—no, stops altogether at his admission. “Luca, we can’t do this anymo—”

He swallows thickly, his jaw setting as he braces himself. “I’ve been thinking about it everyday—the whole time I’m away, and frankly, I’m kicking myself over not telling you this sooner.”

“That’s probably just the homesickness talking.” You turn away. This can’t be possible. This can’t be happening. What the fuck?! “It got you reminiscing about the good old days. Give it time, you’ll come around.” You try to maintain a neutral, distant, cold approach to this, although the crack in your voice betrays you.

“No. That’s not it.”

“Then what the fuck is it?”

Your words cut through the quiet apartment like a flash bang. Luca stops dead in his tracks in his shock, and honestly, so do you. Awful silence hushes over the room, and both of you are almost too afraid to break it. Neither of you even dare to move.

After what seems like forever, Luca moves first. A tear escapes his eye, and he wipes it away with his knuckle hurriedly. “Noma should’ve been a dream. And it is, in a way. I guess.” He stares blankly ahead, his life in Copenhagen replaying in his head like it’s on fast-forward, and the playback seems to just highlight how lonely he is there. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m utterly miserable there. I get up and go to work and I just feel empty. Because what’s the point? You and Alfie are way over here, being a family while I’m… doing what?” He wants to tear his hair out, because this is everything he’s dreamed of, and yet he is living the stuff of nightmares. “It makes no fucking sense.”

It makes even less sense to you. You can’t even begin to process this tangled mess in your head. “Luca… we are almost officially divorced. You’re telling me this now? When everything is—”

“I thought I was doing what was best for you. I thought I should just… let you cut your losses and—”

“The best for me? How the fuck did you think giving up was the best way forward for me?” The thought of it burns your eyes with angry tears. They melt, and you don’t do a thing to stop it from running down your face. “You didn’t think to fight for us while you still could?”

Luca’s heart aches to see that. He is dying to reach out and wipe them away, but he can’t. His voice is quiet and small and almost childlike. “I tried. You were just so… sure about the divorce. You had it all figured out. And I… I thought you had no room for me anymore.”

“I had to keep it together. I had to figure it out—for Alfie’s sake. For mine.” You stare at your little potted sunflower on the windowsill. “I don’t see the point in being vulnerable with you anymore when you’re already set on leaving.”

The words have run out. The whirlwind of emotions has passed. What he feels and what he wants is now very clear.

“I shouldn’t have left.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have.” You wished he didn’t. Everyday for the last two years. And everyday you set yourself up for disappointment because, the truth of the matter is, he did leave. So you stop wishing. “Because I don’t know how to come back from this. I really don’t.”

Nothing that comes out of your mouth is unexpected. But it doesn’t hurt any less to hear it from the horse’s mouth. “It’s just… seeing you guys today… We were a family again. And I would do anything for us to be a family again. Please.”

You sigh heavily. “What else is there to do, Luca…?”

“We can, I don’t know, figure something out, go to couples counseling—”

You groan in frustration, Jesus Christ not this again, wanting to tear your hair out when— CRASH! You accidentally knock over your wine glass and it shatters as it hits the floor. “Shit…”

“Mommy?” Alfie calls you from inside his room, sleepy but alert.

The two of you freeze just before you can move out of your seat. Afraid the slightest of noises would rattle your son.

“Yes, bubbie?” you try to sound bright and normal. Maybe if you can convince him that everything’s fine, he won’t come running in panic. 

“What was that?”

“I just knocked over a glass, kiddo, everything’s okay. Go back to sleep.”

You and Luca wait a few seconds with bated breath. One, two, three… ten seconds go by, and there’s no movement in the bedroom.

The coast is clear.

You scramble down to pick up the shards of glass. The spilled wine looks like blood in the dim light of the room. It’s a painful reminder of the broken pieces of your former life, the casualties. He quickly follows suit, as if struggling to put it all back together. The irony is not lost on either of you, you’re sure of that.

“It’s fine, Luca. I got it, I—” a sharp piece of glass accidentally cuts your palm as you pick it up in hurry. “Fuck!”

“You okay?” He takes your hand as quick as lightning, wanting to inspect the wound, but you snatch it away.

“I’m fine.” You get up on your feet, teetering over to the sink, away from the crime scene, careful not to step on any piece of glass.

Yet he still follows you, walking over to where you’re standing now. “Come on. Let me just take a look.” He reaches out to your wrist, running little circles with his thumb to ease your grasp.

“It’s not a big deal…” you let him look anyway, you figure it’s easier to just let him do his thing than to argue your way out of it. 

His calluses are brittle against your palm, but he handles you with the gentlest touch. The wound is not too big or too deep, but the sight of blood marring your palm makes his heart drop. There’s no visible piece stuck to it, that’s a good sign, he thinks. He rips off some paper towel and wets it on the sink, and softly dab at the gash, cleaning the wound and wiping the blood off.

You grit your teeth, not wanting to show any sign of pain although it stings. “It’s just a little cut…” your tone bears less and less conviction, as if you have no energy left to argue with him on such a small matter.

There’s a very particular way his eyebrows arch when he’s deep in thought. The left one always sits slightly higher than the right. Blue eyes fixed on the object of his focus. A minute gesture behind the chaos in his head. “You need a Band-Aid,” he points out. 

“It’s in the—”

Luca is already opening the drawer next to the stove, taking out a packet of a Star Wars-themed Band-Aid. He still remembers where everything is, and you can’t tell whether the ache in your chest is a good or bad thing.

He puts the Band-Aid on your cut, then takes your hand close to kiss it better, like he used to do.

“Um.” You freeze in your tracks, taken aback. And it seems he’s just as equally as taken aback by his own action. He is flushed with embarrassment, and you feel your face growing hot as well.

He’s the first to break the awkward silence, quiet and tentative. “I’ll clean up the mess. You just hang tight.”

It seems so mundane, sweeping broken glass and cleaning the floor. His body registers it as a simple muscle memory—he must’ve cleaned up messes on this very spot a million times. But his heart is heavy with the burden of your history, and all the pain that comes with your separation. He might not be able to put the pieces back together, but maybe he can clean up the mess and make it nice again for you.

And all the while, you’re stuck to the kitchen counter, watching him so effortlessly reacquainted with his former home. It’s as if he never left. For a confusing moment, it feels like home again. How did you manage without this view, this presence for so long?

Luca puts away the debris in the trash, hidden away in another kitchen drawer next to you, and hovers in front of you, as if wanting to reach out and touch you… but too afraid you’ll push him away.

“Does it still hurt?”

You can’t tear your eyes off of his. The little cut on your hand is but a dull ache now, but the insides of your chest feels like it’s been mangled beyond repair. You burst into tears, sobs ripping through the seams.

His arms wrap around you, keeping your tattered pieces together. Your face is buried in his chest, surrounded by soft cotton and earthy perfume, and your first thought is you can’t remember the last time you were in his arms like this. You rake your mind through all the memories, all the times you hugged each other hello and goodbye and all the times in between, and you can’t remember the last time you stopped, why would you stop—

“My love…” Luca’s voice soothes you, so quietly murmured against your forehead with a soft kiss, yet rings so clear in your ears. He cups your face with both hands, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. “It’s okay... I got you.”

The palm of his hand grazes your lips, and you kiss it the way he kisses your Band-Aid earlier. You have no energy left to fight whatever is going on inside you. You don’t understand the nagging urge to be away from him, when being close to him feels this good. You miss his touch and his voice and his face, and you’re so overwhelmed with longing that you close the distance between your lips and his.

Luca gasps when you kiss him—and it feels like the first breath he’s drawn in two years. Your lips are just as he remembers, just as warm and inviting and familiar, and he relishes coming home to them tonight. He didn’t think he would be so lucky ever again, but now you’re here, kissing life back into him again.

Against your better judgment, you stumble into the bedroom, careful to make as little sound as possible as you tread down the hallway. Still tangled in each other. Refusing to let go even for a second. His five o’clock shadow scratches your skin, following the trail of his lips down your neck.

You push him into bed and climb on top of him without a single thought. You need him close, closer than the past two years, closer than now, and your clothes feel like they’re in the way. Of his hands, of his mouth, of his warmth…

You tear your dress off and throw it away, and he stops in his tracks. He has every part of you memorized, every curve and every ridge, every notch of your stretch marks, every inch of your C-section scar from Alfie’s birth… and yet he’s looking at you for the first time all over again.

“Beautiful…” it escapes his mouth just like that, and you kiss him senseless in return. You worry that if you stop, the moment will pass and this whole thing turns out to be just an illusion.

Or worse, a mistake.

You tug his t-shirt over his head, trying not to linger on his broad chest too long. He gets the idea—he is dying to say something, but doesn’t—and just unclasps your bra in response. He keeps his mouth busy by kissing and licking and sucking your newly exposed breasts.

It’s not that you haven’t been touched like this in a while; it’s just that you haven’t been touched by him like this for so long.. “Luca…”

He never thought he’d hear that again. His name in a wanton sigh, uttered by the lost love of his life. He’s not one to waste his chance. “It’s okay. I got you, my love. I got you.”

Because for the first time in a long time, it’s true. He’s got you. He’s got your body underneath him, your nipple in his mouth, your sweet sex in his hand.

God.

You’re so soft, so warm, so wet against his fingers. The little stuttered moan you let out sounds absolutely heavenly. He remembers exactly the last time he was here.

Christmas Eve, two years ago. 

Things had been tense long before that, but Luca was home and able to spend some time with his wife and kid at last. You didn’t seem all that chuffed having him around—whether he was here or not brought out that “neutral look of displeasure” from you these days— but at least you didn’t pull away when he rested his head on your shoulder as the three of you watched Jurassic Park (Alfie’s all-time favorite). Didn’t roll your eyes and turn away when he kissed you and wished you happy Christmas before bed.

And he wanted so desperately for you to openly want him again.

So he tentatively deepened the kiss and reiterated his love for you in every inch of your body that he could get his hands on. Trying to convince you that he was still here. Trying to convince himself that with every orgasm he pried out of you, that you still wanted him there.

But you just… laid there and watched. Hands locked in on the sheets, not even touching him. Motionless as he went through the motions of his thrusts. Numb as he touched and kissed and fucked you the way you used to like. He was fighting a losing battle. He might as well have been making love to a ghost. 

“Luca…” Your breathless voice snaps him out of his own intrusive thoughts, more clear and alive and real than any memory of you posing no desire for him.

“I— yeah, sorry. I just…” he shakes off his own thoughts.

“Hurry up, come on…” you needily thrust yourself into his hand.

“You sure?”

No, and neither does he. But at this point, you’re much too stubborn about your decision in the divorce and much too prideful to admit that you want him back and maybe just a tad too eager to make a mistake with him.

So you nod your head yes, and with a searing kiss, he fingerfucks you the way you needed him to. 

“Oh, God… fuck…” you sigh under the undoing of his fingers. It’s like he never forgot how to work your body. His fingers play a pattern on your clit that makes you sing. And when one slides into you, crooking and curling against your silky heat…

“Luca, I— now.”

He unlatches his mouth from your nipple almost begrudgingly, as if too sweet to part with you. “Not yet, baby. We can’t…”

“What, why?”

“Because…” he nips at the smooth flesh of your chest thoughtfully. How can he explain it to you in a way that makes sense? “I want…” to take as much time with you as possible, he adds another finger inside you deliciously slow. “I need…” to feel you in every way first, he chants in his head as he kisses you through your orgasm.

Your resolve is slipping, but the craving is as ravenous as ever. You try to squirm in protest anyway. “But…”

“Please.” His lips press against your forehead, eyes squeezed shut. “I got you, okay?”

His blue eyes meet yours, as familiar as the sky you’ve walked under your whole life. As sure as day. And before you realize it, you find yourself nodding along.

Watching him slither further down your body. Mouth paving the way between the valleys of your breasts, up the diamond-hard tops of your nipples.

Down your torso.

Between your nether lips.

You don’t remember the last time you did this either. Memories of attempts to rekindle the romance flash before your eyes. The nights that he climbed into bed late at night after work, still smelling like chocolate or mint or whatever ingredient he was working with that day. Waking you up with the parting of your legs and hushed kisses saying, “Missed you so much, baby…”

“Right there. Yes…” you pant as he laps you up where you’re dripping, catching every drop and coaxing more at the same time.

His eyes close, and he swallows back a needy groan. “Come for me, baby.”

The words shoot right into your core, and you’re suddenly overcome with the waves of pleasure running through you, grinding your hips into his mouth shamelessly. Has he always been so greedy in the way he ate you out?

Your head is spinning with need and you hope the broken words you string up are comprehensible enough for him. “Luca, come on, I can’t—”

“No, please—” he seems to understand just fine, but still he shakes his head and buries his face deeper into you.

“Luca…”

“Wait, just let me—”

So insistent. So stubborn. So… needy. You grasp a fistful of hair on the back of his head. Both heaving, you breathe out,

“Please.” 

The word stops him in his tracks. But it’s not so much the word as it is the gravity that comes with it. Whatever the two of you are doing, whatever you’re feeling is beyond words at this point.

It’s just you and him and this need.

And as much as he wants—needs— to satisfy his hunger, there’s just no way of stopping you anymore. Truth be told, he’s not even sure why he’s been stalling you in the first place. Not when you’re so eager to tug his clothes off and touch him absolutely everywhere. To stroke him, and taste him…

“No, baby.” He stops you just before you slither down his body, settling you back on the bed and caging you underneath him.

You throw him a look, indignant. If he’s gonna hold it off some more, you swear to God��

“No, I…” he kisses you hard, hoping you’ll get that he wants you too. More than anything. And that he’ll give you what you want. Hell, he would give you anything if he could come back to this again for the rest of his life. “Just trust me, okay?”

You marvel at the sight before you. So tall and broad and sturdy. With dark blond locks tousled in passion and eyes lidded from lust and longing, and it makes your heart stop because… there it is.

Love.

As much as you shut it out and as much as you avoid it, love is permanently etched to his actions. Tattooed onto the smallest of things. In the way he kisses your temple softly, and the way he caresses your skin as he aligns himself against you, and the way he holds you as he pushes in…

“Luca…” you gasp sharply.

He stops halfway into you, his eyes searching your face with compassion. “You okay?”

You’re aching and craving the stretch of him all at once, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, so you ultimately nod your head. I’m okay. 

And he knows that deep down. He feels the same. Soothed and tormented by your very presence, although he can’t help but ask, “Do you want me to stop?” Please don’t ask me to stop…

You shake your head quickly. Neither of you would ever dream of it. You would take everything—the weight and the sting of it all— and he would leave everything behind just to have this again.

Your hips colliding again in a frenzy of a rhythm you haven’t played in so long—still remembering every beat like it’s your own pulse. Your walls gripping him like you wouldn’t let him go.

He shudders a little. “I’m gonna come if you keep doing that…”

“I don’t care,” you murmur into his neck with a kiss, “Come.”

“What…?” He can’t have heard that right… right?

“I want you to.”

“Jesus…” he breathes out. “I wanna make this last, baby—”

You shake your head again and wrap your legs around him almost demandingly. “I want you to come inside me and fill me the fuck up… want you dripping down my legs… please…”

“Fuck!” The images flash before his eyes faster than he can stop his hands from grabbing you by the hips, slamming himself into you. 

Nor can he stop himself from coming deep inside you.

There’s no way to describe the way he feels at that moment. The way tension peaks and snaps into release. How it brings you into your climax as well. Your lips must be swollen from the assault of your own teeth as you hold back the filthy noises coming out of you. You don’t mind the building ache in your thigh muscles, because as soon as that warmth fills you up, your body is overcome by waves of bliss.

“Fuck…” he flops back onto his side of the bed—the right side—and quickly gathers you in his chest. It’s an effortless little maneuver, making sense at last as you lay half on top of him.

Your hand finds his—more puzzle pieces coming together as he fills the spaces between your fingers. You bring it to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Surprised to find the gold wedding band still adorning his ring finger.

***

9:56 PM

“Was that really your first time since we… you know?” Your murmured question rings loud in the absence of the rain. The storm has finally passed, but neither of you move—neither even dare to bring it up— afraid to ruin the moment. 

“It was.”

“Not even in a casual, ‘no strings attached’ kind of situation?”

“No.” He looks almost embarrassed to admit it, but there is no hesitation in his answer.

“Wow…” your heart sinks. Is it possible to feel good and bad at the same time?

Luca pauses for a moment. You can see the conflict brewing in his head. “Did you?”

You don’t have to answer. The sheer silence you take is an answer enough.

The confirmation feels like shit, but he tries to stay neutral. His thumb stills on the back of your hand. “Can I ask how many?”

“Gosh, does that even matter?” You sigh. There’s another argument coming—you can feel it.

“No, I just… I wanna know.”

“You don’t really wanna know.”

“Is it a lot?”

“I mean…”

“How many?” 

You take in a sharp breath. There’s no way out of this now. If the truth is what he wants, then the truth is what he shall get. “Twelve.”

He tenses up next to you. The whole world stops, and you can’t help but think, it’s over. There is no way this marriage is salvageable now. “What…?”

“I know that it’s a big number, and I know you might be upset—”

“That is a big number.” He doesn’t say anything about the latter part of her sentence, but it’s obvious that he’s upset, too. “I just… why?”

“I was trying to get over you.” It’s a pathetic answer, but that’s all it is to it. “I couldn’t sleep in this bed for months. I just couldn’t. Slept on the guest bed instead,” you motion at the next room, “and then one day, I couldn’t take it anymore. It’s like a switch flipped inside my brain, and I needed to—”

“What?”

“I needed to… overwrite the memories of you,” you admit feebly. “On this bed. On my body.”

Knife, meet heart. He’s not sure what answer he was expecting, but whatever it was, this hurts so much more. “And did it work?”

“Up to a point…” you pause, a sad smile in realization. “It’s funny. I keep getting bits and pieces of you somehow.”

“What do you mean?”

You close your eyes, your memories flashing, reminding you that every single time reminds you of Luca one way or another. “It’s… somebody’s perfume, or the timbre of their voice, or the way they hold my hand…”

“And you see me in them?” 

“Every single one.”

“Jesus…” Luca finds himself relieved and choked up at the same time. He doesn’t want you to ever get rid of your memories of him, but at the same time, it’s painful to hear that you tried anyway.

And you tried very hard.

“I’m sorry.”

He hums, and you realize… he hasn’t let go of your hand. Not once. Not even after your little confession. It makes the argument easier, knowing he’s there. It’ll be easier to part with him again after tonight, you hope, knowing you both did your best to understand. Why you needed to be apart. Why you did the things you did.

The armor has been shed, and the two of you are now naked, in every sense of the word.

Luca turns to look at you, studying your profile. He remembers the last time he was here.

He had just told you about Denmark. Stupid of him to feel excited, to tell you he’d just been offered his dream job, to ask you and Alfie to move someplace new with him, because it turned into a fight.

Worse than a fight; it was a death sentence.

You turned away and stared at the ceiling, and told him you couldn’t do this anymore.

And in some fucked up way, Luca feels as if he’d been brought back in time, and this is his one chance to make it right. So he asks you,

“Do you still love me?” 

You breathe out, heart clenching because in spite of yourself, “I do.”

“Do you want us to try again?”

“Luca…” you sigh heavily, “How would that even work? Alfie and I are here, and you have Noma–”

“No more Noma. I’m giving that up.” The answer is straightforward, and he surprises himself over how easily it rolls off of his tongue. How right.

“What? You wouldn’t…” Your face falls as you turn to him.

“I would. And I am,” he says firmly. “Look, I’ve thought about this for months now. I can’t do Noma anymore, I need to be home.” His gaze softens, and you feel the pattern running on the back of your hand again.

Slow and steady and certain.

The tear rolls off the corner of your eye and onto the pillow with the tiniest drop. “I wanted you to come home…”

“Then let me come home. Please?”

“I want to. I just…” you reach out and cup his face tentatively. “I just want to make sure that we’re not doing anything rash.”

His eyes light up. The only thing that matters is that you want him home, too. It takes him everything to let his logical part of the brain take control. “How about this, then?” Luca pauses thoughtfully. “We’ll take a minute. For me to sort out everything at Noma, find a replacement… and for us to figure out if this is really what we wanna do.

“If it starts to feel like a bad idea, maybe we should rethink it. But if it feels good… maybe we can give it another shot.

“And in the meantime, we’ll talk. We’ll FaceTime and… figure out what the hell to say to our lawyers.”

That makes you grimace. You were supposed to have another meeting with your divorce lawyers. Tomorrow is going to be awkward. But awkward beats saying goodbye to the man you’ve always loved, right? It’s a small price to pay.

“What do you say, baby?” He looks at you with all the hope that he has. “Just give me a minute to get everything sorted and then I’ll come home.”

You smile tearfully. “A minute is not enough… how about a month, hm?”

“Yeah, that makes more sense, actually.” He chuckles sheepishly. “A month. I can do that.”

“Good.” You sidle up to him and kiss him where his heart is. You’re willing to settle for having him just for the night, but you can’t wait until he comes home to you for good.

You hope he will.

[tyunni]

🦢̼ࣳ 10:36ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ( you're just a warm body to hold , at night when i'm feeling all alone )

Genre (𝐈): heeseung x fem!reader , angst , exes 2 nothing. Warnings (𝐈𝐈): toxic relationship , y/n is overly obsessed with heeseung , mentions of somewhat making out? not properly proofread so there might be grammar mistakes ! Word Count (𝐈𝐈𝐈): 1k+;

𝒜uthors note: 2 may posts in a row is absolutely mind boggling! this is for @jlheon 's bea event, very fun to write! (i'm not quite sure if I'm past the due date, if i am just consider this a normal drabble! today is my last exam so i was busy all day yesterday ㅠㅠ)

Laying in your bed at 10:36 PM, your eyes brimmed to the top with hot tears that feel almost as heavy resting atop your bottom eyelashes as the feeling of your sinking heart is when you finally realize that love is, indeed, pain.

You think about him. He and his beautiful, round, chocolate eyes that once looked at you so curiously despite the bags under weighing them down, how his slanted nose turned red when the cold air hit his face, how soft he felt under your fingertips when you traced each and every one of his features. Back then you felt as though every dent and imperfection in your fingerprints fit perfectly against the texture of his skin, connecting like puzzle pieces every time you stopped the motion of your wrists and rested your palm against his cheek, your own curious eyes greedily taking in every little detail about the boy in front of you. His ravishing, charming smile that would make its way onto his face when he caught you admiring the shape of his lips was far too alluring for you to notice the slight twitch of his eyebrows, a saddened expression replacing the one of mischief and genuine desire of fun.

That’s all you were to him, fun. But to you, he was everything. The way he would smile against your skin, his big hands resting on the small of your back as his guidance towards his lap ended victoriously, with you situating yourself on his thighs and giggling at the ticklish feeling of his dark locks dancing against your sensitive neck. The thought of that, back when Heeseung was still yours, usually made your heart flutter and your knees go weak, but now that it’s nothing but a memory, the same butterflies that would roam around your stomach happily now gnaw at the enclosure and slowly climb up your throat, your palm swiftly slapping against your mouth to stop them from escaping. Dizziness and nausea came naturally after your mind would get flooded with the thoughts of Heeseung, you felt every symptom of food poisoning in the wake of swallowing Heeseung’s rotten heart with a proud smile on your face. You felt sick, love sick.

After an hour of laying in bed, trying to drown your sorrows with your own tears, you decide to call him. The past month you had had your ex, if you could even call him that, on dial almost every night, his warm embrace like a drug you couldn’t get enough of. Your shakey digits press against the numbers on your screen, and with just one click you were officially crawling right back to him. Heeseung decline your call, which means he’s on his way to you, again. You need him, again. He’ll come over and lull you to sleep with his soft touches, again. Next morning you’re going to wake up to an empty bed and pretend this never happened, again.

After a while you can hear the creaking of your door, indicating Heeseung has entered your room and has returned to you.

“y/n,” you feel your bed sink as he sits right beside your balled-up form, letting out a deep sigh at the all too familiar situation. “We can’t keep doing this, y/n.”

He had said those exact words the night before, and the night before that too, but this time it feels different. This time you know he’s right.

“I know…” your croaky voice seems to be only tugging at your own heartstrings this time, only you feel sorry for yourself. Sorry for the sad, depressing joke of a human you had become after corrupting and molding yourself into nothing but a heart that beats for another, lungs that breathe for someone else, and a mind that slaves away only thinking about one person.

Heeseung kicks his shoes off, climbing into your sheets, body facing you, “this is the last time, okay?” his finger finds its way under your chin, tilting it upwards for you to face him. You look into his eyes, you see nothing. It’s empty, he has lost all feelings for you, even the feeling of pity that you were so desperately clinging onto, disgusted with the shell of a person you had become in the process. You had lost him, completely this time.

“‘Kay…” you sigh, the breath you let out a mixture of relief and sadness as you sink into his arms and feel your skin bleed into his own for the last time. For once, you don’t melt under his touch, for the little warmth he secretly held for you has now completely evaporated and instead replaced itself with the ice-cold wall he had put up between you two despite your bodies remaining pressed up against each other.

He kisses the crown of your head, leaving a light peck on your forehead right after. “Goodnight, y/n…”

You look up at him slightly, The lovey-dovey nicknames he once called you had completely left his vocabulary tonight, instead your name fell past his once-red lips that seemed to have turned blue under the low illuminance of your nightlight. You feel alone, even with the one you desire right in front of you. His arms wrapped around you hold no weight to them, only your blanket keeping your body warm. Yet you still hold on. You clutch onto him dearly, sobbing into his chest, your hands that had the hem of his t-shirt balled up into a fist now roam around his back as you pull yourself impossibly closer to him, your lips find their way towards Heeseung’s to capture them for the last time, desperately swiping your tongue against his lower lip for him to let you in and dance his tongue against yours, but he doesn’t.

And now you know, you understand, that you’re holding onto a pale, ghostly, blue corpse.

You pull away from him after you feel his almost bony fingers gently stroke your hair. He shushes you, pulling you closer to him and humming a soft melody that can only be described as the requiem of your love, with no one but you to adorn yourself with the color black, cry and pray for it, and watch its casket get buried six feet underground.

©tyunni please don't copy, translate or repost any of my work!

[bountycancelled]

monster trio + sensitive/angry reader who's pmsing

opla x reader

requested: yes, but reqs are closed right now<3

genre: headcanons, no pronouns used, no use of y/n, reader has periods but gender isn't specified.

a/n: not taking reqs for now since I'm writing my finals and also working on an smau. but I am taking commissions if anyone is interested, totally not a must at all♡ unedited, no caps on purpose, its also a little short, but I hope you enjoy it!

☆luffy☆

–1000/10. brushes off your sour mood with a cheery smile and nothing floating around in his eyes.

if you were hoping that he would act a little more... sensibly during this less bearable part of your cycle, then you're dead wrong. boy is completely clueless.

everytime you lash out at him or otherwise act way more emotionally than you usually do, he genuinely doesn't think anything of it.

if you explain to him that your hormones are the reason for your behaviour, he'll just shrug and carry on as usual.

he doesn't necessarily understand how your body works, but he'll do anything you ask if it means making this time for you better to manage.

cuddling with you when you're in pain, comforting you when you get overly emotionally or giving you space. (this one's really hard for him, not because he can't be away from you, he just keeps forgetting and walking into the room your in to talk to you)

overall, this brown-eyed, straw hat wearing pirate may not be a pms expert, but he'll sure as he'll try his best for you. (no sharing food though, so don't ask.)

☆zoro☆

extremely perceptive, so he notices something is off about you, but shares that same lack of knowledge that luffy has.

he's also not the most emotional or confrontational person, if you want to talk about whatevers bothering you, then you know where to find him. he's not going to actively seek out answers.

he can take you attitude and mood swings like a champ too, so it's only when he overhears you chatting with nami about your period pain kicking your ass that he puts 2 and 2 together.

again, he's not exactly sure how to help you, this isn't a problem he can solve with his swords. so, he offers you the next best thing in his opinion, sleep. and lots of it.

if you're sad, he'll let you cuddle him until you eventually pass out (he's as stiff as a cardboard box when you're wrapped around him, but he's trying, okay?) if you're angry, he'll train with you until you can't get a word out, let alone think pissy thoughts, and you'll both nap on the closest comfy surface.

he always falls asleep before you tbh, buuuuuut. he always wakes up before you, still as he can be, making sure that you don't stir in your sleep, seeing as it's one of your only respites to the highs and lows of highschool footba– I mean, of your hormones. its not much, but he hopes that his presence serves as a comfort to you.

☆sanji☆

out of the three, he's the most likely to be hurt by your change in behaviour.

knowing sanji, he probably thinks that he's done something to encite your sudden moods and he'll seek you our immediately to apologise for whatever he's done that's made you act like this.

when you explain to him the actual situation, he calms down for a split second because now he knows he hasn't done anything to upset you, and then immediately goes into caring partner mode.

although he prides himself on knowing women better than most men, he's a bit clueless in this regard. but, if there's one thing he truly does know the ins and out of, it's you. your likes, dislikes, dreams, pet peeves, he'll pull out all the stops, each and every single action of his that you've ever talked about in a positive manner, he'll do.

I'm talking cuddles, compliments, cooking meals for you odd hours of the night when you're craving something specific, he'll do it all, if it means making this a little easier for you to deal with.

and though it pains him deeply to be away from you for any reason, he's grateful that you distance yourself whenever you're a bit snappy. he's sensitive by nature, and he'll come sprinting to you once you've cooled off a bit, ready to smother you with love once again.

[oldmannapping]

Fic: Bodyswap (Part 2)

Part One

Based on my own prompt about wanting a body-swap fic that dealt with the gross embarrassing parts.

This has expanded into something more than I intended, but I can't stop writing.

It's a Dick-Jason, Tim-Steph bodyswap. There is literally no plot. They're body-swapped and trying to deal with it, that's it. No pairings, past Steph/Tim.

It's crack treated like crack. It's two parts for now but I might add more. Warnings for language, discussions of menstruation, discussions of sexuality.

EXCERPT:

“This isn’t just PMS,” Tim continues blithely. “This is definitely something more.”

Bruce and Dick take sizeable steps backwards. Jason cackles.

Steph flares Tim’s nostrils and opens her mouth. Far too late, Tim realises that he’s in danger.

“Timothy.” Somehow, she makes Tim’s voice growl almost as low as Batman’s. “PMS is not JUST anything. When women say that they are tired. Sad. Having cravings. Not themselves. We are not just making excuses to lie in bed and let the patriarchy win.”

Oh no, she said “patriarchy”. Tim’s fucked.

Bruce rubs his forehead, eyes pinched closed. He’s only been in the Cave for six minutes and he’s already regretting every life choice that led to this moment.

“So you can read each other’s minds?” he clarifies, still not opening his eyes.

“No,” Jason snaps derisively.

“Not really,” says Dick dick-lomatically. (Duke used that word ONE TIME and no one has ever let it go.) “It’s more like… familiar thought patterns? I’m still me, with my memories and thoughts, but I’ve got Jason’s… knee jerk reactions. His instincts. It’s hard to describe.”

“I haven’t noticed anything like that,” says Tim, peering at the older men with curiosity. “I haven’t run too many experiments yet though. I’m planning all sorts of cognitive testing and brain scans but I’ve been really foggy-headed and haven’t been able to put it together like I normally would.”

He frowns. “Now that I think about it, maybe that’s a symptom in itself. Could it be that the spell actively smothers attempts to break it? I was writing a program to analyse the results of some basic nerve conduction studies yesterday and I got so tired I had to have a nap. When I woke up, I was ravenous and completely forgot about the studies. This is fascinating. Bruce, is there any precedent for spells that are self-protecting like that? This could be something we should consult Zatanna about, or maybe even Constantine…”

“Yo, Boy Genius,” interrupts Steph, clicking Tim’s fingers in front of her own face. “That wasn’t the spell. Brain fog, fatigue, increased appetite? Congratulations, you’ve just discovered PMS.”

Tim is aghast. Jason has barked a surprised laugh and Dick and Bruce seem baffled.

“That, that can’t be right,” Tim insists. “You don’t understand Steph, I was operating WAY below my usual capacity. This wasn’t just a little brain fog. I was having a hard time with codes that I’d normally be able to do in my sleep. I forgot the word for “synthesise”. I took a two-hour nap then ate half a rotisserie chicken. I threw my keyboard across the room and then cried when it broke.”

“That was my chicken,” says Dick in a small, sad voice. Jason’s body needs a LOT of protein.

“This isn’t just PMS,” Tim continues blithely. “This is definitely something more.”

Bruce and Dick take sizeable steps backwards. Jason cackles.

Steph flares Tim’s nostrils and opens her mouth. Far too late, Tim realises that he’s in danger.

“Timothy.” Somehow, she makes Tim’s voice growl almost as low as Batman’s. “PMS is not JUST anything. When women say that they are tired. Sad. Having cravings. Not themselves. We are not just making excuses to lie in bed and let the patriarchy win.”

Oh no, she said “patriarchy”. Tim’s fucked.

Steph’s not done. “We are not weak. We are not hysterical, moody hypochondriacs with wandering wombs. We are experiencing the VERY REAL mental and physical and emotional effects of our bodies preparing to have a BABY and then overhauling itself by EJECTING AN ENTIRE BABY HOUSE out of our vaginas.”

She’s still not done. Tim’s trying not to breathe in case that makes her angrier.

“I’ve gone on patrol with a heat pack strapped under my costume. I’ve sat exams on days when I can’t remember which bus I usually take. I’ve cried in the bathroom at work and wiped my eyes, reapplied my mascara, and gone back out there because I’m a fucking woman and that’s what we’re doing every single freaking day while you assholes are telling us that we’re biologically designed to earn 35% less than you.”

Tim opens Steph’s mouth and all the other men in the room know that whatever he's about to say is going to be a mistake. “I don’t think women should earn less than men,” is what he lands on.

Bruce decides to speak up before Steph can reply. He's very brave. “So we can reasonably assume that the spell isn’t actively trying to prevent anyone from breaking it,” he says, clearing his throat. “And it doesn’t transfer thoughts and memories, but engrained thought patterns and autonomous reactions.”

Dick is very happy to be back on topic. “Yeah, basically.”

“What are some examples?” asks Bruce, walking to the Batcomputer and pulling up a spreadsheet.

Jason and Dick glower at each other silently, not wanting a rehash of their previous argument. This whole situation was dignity-shattering enough.

Dick coughs. “Jason and I have noticed,” he says carefully, “that we have each other’s automatic reflexes to situations. I’ve noticed that my aggression levels are up. I’m always wanting to scan the room for a threat. Jason’s noticed similar things about my body’s reactions.” He hopes that’s enough detail.

Bruce hums thoughtfully. “I don’t think it’s just your bodies,” he muses, typing rapidly. “It could be your brains – your actual, physical brains, not your consciousness or whatever’s been transferred by the spell. Brains like patterns and routines. It makes them effective. It seems that while your consciousnesses have been transplanted, the structure of each of your brains has remained unchanged.”

“Has anyone studied this before?” asks Tim, pulling up his phone and tapping away. “It makes sense but I’ve never heard of body-swapping having this particular wrinkle before.”

“It sounds like your bodies’ hormone levels remained the same too,” says Bruce awkwardly, glancing at Tim-in-Steph’s-body’s abdomen with faint alarm. “Of course, we’ll need to run further tests but that shouldn’t be too difficult since we’ve already been taking daily bloods…” He hums again and opens several more browsers, muttering to himself.

-_-

“TESTING!” booms Bruce’s voice suddenly, two hours later. He looks around. He is alone in the Cave. He presses the intercom. “Alfred, could you gather the kids and tell them- Dammit!” He misses Alfred so much. Bruce sighs and dials Dick’s phone, calling his children back to the Cave.

Once they’re assembled, he starts again.

“TESTING.”

They’re standing in a circle on the mats. Jason’s pointedly holding his phone where Dick can see the screen as he scrolls through nipple piercing and tattoo websites. Dick is trying to focus politely on Bruce. Tim and Steph are glowering grumpily next to each other.

Bruce ignores their moods. He claps his hands. He’s excited for testing. Testing is one of his favourite parts of weird magic times.

“Dick!” he says, pointing. “Unlock Jason’s phone.”

Rolling his eyes, Jason locks his phone and hands it off to Dick. Dick starts to hold it up to his/Jason’s face when Bruce says, “No, with the PIN. Don’t think about it, just see if you can do it with muscle memory.”

Dick looks back to the phone and stares for a beat. Then, his thumbs move rapidly to swipe through a nine-digit code. The phone unlocks.

“Motherfucker,” Jason swears, grabbing his phone back.

“You didn’t know the code before now?” confirms Bruce. Dick shakes his head. “What is it?”

Dick frowns, then shrugs. “I have no idea. My thumbs just-“ He mimes typing on a phone. “It was too quick for me to catch all the numbers.”

“Fascinating.” Bruce is so excited to add to his spreadsheet. He pulls something out of his pocket and throws it to Steph.

She catches it automatically. “Okay? We know we all have good reflexes?”

“You caught it with your left hand,” points out Bruce. “Even though that meant you had to reach across your body. Even though you, Stephanie, are right-handed, this body is not. This body’s brain and mind are still wired to have Tim’s reflexes even if you’re the one in conscious control.”

The four affected youths eye each other warily.

Bruce pulls out a folder. “I’ve printed some pictures to show you. I want you to give me your automatic reactions to these images, don’t overthink it.”

He goes through both benign and personal pictures. It turns out that seeing Dick’s favourite food makes Jason’s mouth water. Seeing Steph’s old childhood toy gives Tim, in her body, a jolt of nostalgic nausea even though he’s never seen the tatty bear before. (“How do you even have a picture of Mr Huggins?” asks Steph. “Creeper.”) Seeing a playground makes Tim’s body anxious and Jason’s body prickle with protective anticipation.

They all thoroughly agree that Bruce is weird for making them do all of this and then immediately disband to run secret individual experiments on their own.

-_-

“This body!” snaps Jason. “This body is so NEEDY!”

Dick groans. “What now?”

Jason paces restlessly. “First it needs to move all the damn time. I always thought you were fidgeting and doing handstands off tables and shit to be annoying, but you really can’t help it.”

Dick shrugs. “It’s been kinda weird to be in your body and not feel like that. I keep thinking I’m forgetting something but it’s just that I haven’t moved in a while and usually that’s a problem. No wonder you don’t mind long stakeouts.”

“No wonder you hate them,” Jason agrees. “It’s not even that this time. It’s this weird, like, almost itching. Like a shortness of breath. You’re not allergic to anything are you?”

He stalks over to his own body and frowns up at his own face. “Huh,” he says. “You’re not afraid of me. Zero fear response. You’re an idiot.”

Dick rolls Jason’s eyes. “Yeah yeah, you’ve very scary and edgy. Such an ambiguous anti-hero. Dear me, I hope he doesn’t snap one day. Etcetera.”

Jason shoulder-checks him (ineffectively) and storms over to where Tim and Steph are sending each other triggering images over text to see who will break first. Steph’s just sent Tim a picture of a happy family on vacation with the caption “not u lol” when Jason reaches them.

They stare at Jason blankly as he gets up in their personal space. They’re used to Dick being close to them so it doesn’t feel weird, but they know it’s JASON, so it IS weird. Jason grabs Steph-as-Tim’s arm and holds it for a moment. He grunts and releases it. He turns to Tim-in-Steph, an odd look on his face. He reaches for Tim’s arm but the movement seems to get away from him and he ends up grabbing Tim around the shoulders with one arm, holding him in close.

“What are you doing?” yelps Tim, struggling briefly.

“I have no idea,” says Jason, who seems equally baffled but isn’t letting go.

“Holy moly,” says Steph. “You two are tragic. Dick’s body needs a HUG, morons.”

Jason and Tim freeze. They simultaneously realise that this isn’t a strange new grappling move. This is a hug. Oh no they’re hugging. They don’t hug. They’re not huggers.

Dick snickers, coming over to view the scene. “I could have told you that,” he informs Jason.

“It’s not allergies?” says Jason, shuffling around to look at Dick without letting go of Tim. “Your body wanted a HUG? What are you, a toddler?”

“Hugs aren’t childish,” scolds Steph mildly, taking photos on her phone even though they will never capture the true awkwardness of a Tim-and-Jason hug. “Heaps of people need touch to feel good. Hugs, cuddles, patting a pet, whatever. Dick’s a hugger, you already knew that.”

“I knew he liked hugging, I didn’t know he needed it to live,” bites Jason, trying to appear nonchalant and cool while embracing Tim to his chest like a doll. “Why is this body hugging you? Steph, I mean. Why not just go for the closest person?”

Steph and Dick roll their eyes. “Jason, when was the last time you and I hugged?” Dick asks. Jason glowers.

Steph nods. “Dick and I hug all the time, dude. You two aren’t cuddly. That’s cool. Whatever. Tim lets me use him as a pillow at movie night so I’m happy. Dick’s body probably feels more comfortable with mine than the others here.”

“Plus, girls are so nice for hugs,” Dick adds. “So nice and soft. So snuggly and safe.”

That does it. Tim and Jason break apart and swiftly put eight feet of space between them. The incident is swiftly added to the Never To Be Spoken About Again list, which is growing longer by the day.

-_-

The end? To be continued? Who even knows.

[starsomens]

The door squeaks open as Eden enters your home. It was 9:07 pm, she had gone on a date with her boyfriend of 9 months.

"Hey sweetie, how was your date did you have fun?" You walk over to the door to see her just standing there. "..Eden, hon are you okay?" you ask and she rakes a moment.

She shakes her head no as her lip quivers and her shoulder shake.

oh no....

"oh baby," you walk over to her and embrace her tightly, her sobs are muffled by your shirt and you rub her back to try and comfort her. Noah strides over hearing the cries of his daughter

"Eden? What happened? Are you hurt?" you shook your head at him and gave him a look and he had gotten what he needed to piece things together. His rests his hand on her head and brings her to his chest, she hugs him tightly. You heart ached knowing what she was going through, knowing that it felt as though this pain would last forever.

"eden...do you want to go to your room?" he speaks softly to her "we can talk more there" she nods her head and Noah picks her up easily. It didn't matter if she was 4 or 16, when his baby girl needed him, nothing would get in his way. You go to grab some water for her while Noah took her upstairs. He sets her down on her bed and kneeled down in front of her and held her hands, just like when she 5 and had a nightmare

He looked at her red eyes and nose and he felt his heart squeeze "Eden, I'm not going to sugar coat things. These things happen....and I know it sucks, it really sucks....but I promise you, this wasn't for you" his thumbs wipe at her eyes "the day you were born and I held you for the first time I already how special you were"

"And, for the last 16 years you just grew up so fast...into this smart, beautiful and witty girl. Eden," he cups her face with both of his hands "No one in this world would ever hurt you if they loved you, and I never want to see you with tears in your eyes because of someone like him. I know you don't feel okay now, but I promise it will be soon. Okay princess?"

Eden nods her head and squeezes his hands. Her arms wrapping around his neck as he hugs he tightly, an suddenly she was 5 years old again

"I love you babygirl"

"I love you dad," she sniffs still feeling the wave of sadness, but the comfort of her father

.....

later that night when you had fallen asleep on the couch Noah snuck Eden out of the house with 2 carton of eggs. It was about 12 am while he drove down the road, Eden knew exactly where they were going

"Uh, dad, how did you get this address?" she asked as they come to a halt

"Your old man has his ways princess,"

They spent the next hour egging his new car, covering the fresh paint job with eggs. Noah felt such joy watching Eden get her emotions out to some little boy who never deserved her....of course she didn't have to know about the other plan he was doing later on when he went to "work"

[asher-agere]

haiii!!! could you do regressor nikolai headcanons please? =)

:0 MY FAVORITE BOY. HIS TIME HAS CAME. I literally have a Nikolai cosplay he’s that much of my favorite. All homemade too! Well mostly, making his pants sounded confusing. But other than that completely homemade! So uhm. Yeah I like Nikolai a tiny bit guys

Little Nikolai

🃜🃚🃖🃁🂭🂺

♢ Nikolai is definitely a kid regressor! He is the silliest little guy EVER. His caregiver should know that he’s a kid regressor! However there’s always the chance of Nikolai slipping younger right? Nikolai sees this as a prank opportunity! He’ll constantly act like a baby, babbling, sucking on his thumb, refusing to walk, insisting on a bottle. Baby stuff! But then random he’ll just be like “Oh no… You have amnesia! I’m not a baby! Come back!” Then he’ll shake his caregiver really hard as if they’re the one going crazy. The first time it was confusing. Since then it’s just typical Nikolai

♢ Nikolai will do a bunch of stuff he’s not supposed to! Bedtime is at 10 PM? At 10:30 he’s going to his caregiver “I can count really big y’know that? 1, 2…” No sweets before dinner? He can reach into his cape and pull sweets right out of the cupboard. He’s supposed to make his bed? Don’t even ask. He will literally drag the mattress off of the frame. This is a chaos child! He shall not be contained by rules! If he’s about to get a stern talking to (Never yelling of course!) he’ll just swish his cape and then he’s gone!

♢ It’s really rare for Nikolai to be sad. He’s a very energetic and happy baby! But when he’s sad it’s like a depression, nothing can really cheer him up, it can just be made slightly more comfortable. Sad Nikolai is also a polar opposite of how he usually is. He’ll be completely silent, compliant, and barely even move. The best thing that can be done is his caregiver holds him super tight and lets him watch a silly cartoon! It can take awhile, 2 hours is like a minimum of just sitting there watching the cartoons. But eventually he’ll slowly start shifting around, finding the energy to move, and he’ll start quietly babbling about the show!

♢ Nikolai loves to play pretend and dress up! He has so many clothes with crazy colors and designs, he’ll dress up both himself and his caregiver then insist that they’re going to work in the circus! He’ll pretend to do a bunch of circus acts, but then he wants circus treats of course! Cotton candy and funnel cake and popcorn… Popcorn is usually the only one he can get. Which he is upset about, and he will complain, but not to much! Popcorn is still super good!

♢ Nikolai likes snacks in general! He’ll play with his food a lot, his caregiver needs to remind him like a million times that he needs to actually eat. He’ll take a couple bites… Then the broccoli is attacking his chicken again! It’s an endless loop. Sometimes he does like it when his caregiver feeds him! Give him some kind of fidget toy to play with while his caregiver feeds him ‘airplanes’ of food. Very happy giggling baby!

♢ Nikolai loves telling stories using his toys! These stories can be very chaotic though. Sometimes it’s a peaceful story about friendship, other times it’s an intricate war plot that includes and underlying romance somehow. Nikolai’s general behavior honestly doesn’t change much when he’s regressed, he’s an energetic ball of chaos no matter what. Luckily this means his caregiver is used to his high energy though!

♢ Nikolai’s room is constantly a mess, however he’s able to navigate it perfectly! Anytime his caregiver tries walking in his room they’re stepping on everything, however Nikolai just steps and hops and he can get anywhere he might need to! Mainly from his door to his bed. But sometimes he needs to get to his comfy clothes or his toys!

🃜🃚🃖🃁🂭🂺

Yay baby Nikolai! He’s such a chaotic handful. His poor caregiver must always be tired from dealing with his nonsense

[noralia20]

I still love you (J.P)

Summary: James left due to the war without any hints or warning. But when he comes back, he's scared that the love of his life moved on. His fear come true when he spots you and Amos Diggory with a little boy at a park. Will James Potter find the guts to talk to you again?

Warnings: none really

Disclaimer: I do not own any of those pictures, found them on pinterest

Word count : 4,631

He left. Why you did not know before a long time.

It was less than a year after graduating Hogwarts. You and James, after already three years of relation decided to take a small house in the suburbs of London. You guys met on the train in second year. He had never heard of you but you surely heard of him. It clicked immedialtly with the marauders, and you were also the one who discovered first about Remus' "furry little problem" as James likes to call it. You helped him through anything. You even became an animagus.

James fell utterly and hopelessly in love with you, as you did too. However, it took you guys 4 years to make out the courage to confess. "The four longest years of my life" as Sirius wouldn't stop saying. You couldn't blame him, the poor guy had to see you gush on one another and make him lose his earing by listening to your nonstop description of the other. But that's another story.

You and James were talking a lot about marriage as you one day promised to marry as soon as dropping out of school. But war caught up to your plans and you were now very occupied with the Order.

It was a Friday night, a full moon night to be exact. James forbade you to come with the guys since they were out of wolfsbane. You swore you had a pare bottle in the cabinet but when you went to look for it, it was effectively gone. You knew James and his overprotective side and decided not to argue with him about it. That night he looked awfully quiet.

Y/N: James... You are awfully quiet.

James: Nothing to worry about love. *gets up* I'll take my leave.

He went towards the door, and you followed him. You stopped directly in front of the doorstep while he turned around a the bottom of the doorsteps. He looked even more handsome in the shining light of the twilight. Oh, how much would you give to marry that man right now... He looked at you intensely, with love, passion and somewhat a hint of sadness. You frowned at this last thought. And he noticed, of course he did. He smiles through the unexplained worry painted on his face.

James: 'Be back before you can say "blueberry pie". *turns around*

Y/N: Blueberry pie.

You rushed it out and he didn't have the time to take a step before turning back around. Something inside of you didn't want to let him go. Why does this whole situation seemed like a goodbye, he would only be gone for the night.

James: *smiles* Maybe not that fast... But pretty fast. Okay?

Y/N: Okay.

James: Bye.

You didn't have the time to answer that he already apparated somewhere, probably to Moony's house.

That night you didn't manage to sleep properly until pas 2 am. You had this feeling in your gut that wouldn't go away.

And that felling didn't get better the next day. You waited hours for James to pass the door, waiting to be stitched up. But it never came. Finally, you decided to go to Moony's house. You apparated around 7 pm. The house seemed empty, but you still went towards the door. You had called home, but nobody answered, maybe the boys fell asleep from exhaustion because of the night prior. You knocked not even once that the door pushed open. Revealing a cold and empty house. You checked if you were at the good address, you were. You rushed throughout the house and called for your friends. You tried to call, Lily, Marlene even Alice wouldn't respond to your calls. You went to each of their house, everything was the same. Empty, cold with nobody around. Where were they, they didn't leave anything, not a hint. You had only one place to go to, the old house the black. You arrived at 12 Grimmauld place and recited the spell normally used. You waited, nothing worked. You tried, again and again. Soon falling to your knees from exhaustion, sobbing in your hands. You knew what that meant. You friends were gone, they left you, the Order left you, the love of your life left you. The only people you trusted and loved with all your soul just left without a word, a hint... You were what you feared the most: alone, again...

You obviously realised it was all planned. For the past few days, the interaction with your friends were short. You thought it was for security. But the look that James had the day before told everything, they all planned to leave you, and they succeeded. Why did they leave, you didn't know. And wouldn't for a very long time. That night you cried your whole soul, hugging one of James' favourite shirt to your chest. His smell was the only thing you had left of him, as well as some photos. And promised one thing, you wouldn't fall in love anymore. If you were going to fall in love, you were going with him. Only, James Fleamont Potter.

~2 years later~

You were now 20 and still no sign of live of your dearest friends. With time, you came to the assumption you weren't made to fight by their side. So, you did your research, you arrested a few death eaters, created an orphanage for the children of our dear passed wizards and witches. You offered them what you didn't have since he left: a home. In their eyes you could sometimes see the look of your friends. You still lived in that house James and you bought. You still loved him. How could you not, he was the man made for you. Maybe he was dead, maybe all of them were. That thought kept you awake at night. The mornings your stomach would twist at the new listing of the war victims. You knew that muggles were also being more attacked, so you raised a barrier around your neighbourhood and the orphanage. It was taking a lot of energy but you knew he would have done the same. You lived and became a better person thinking what he would do.

Right now, you were in your office at the orphanage, looking at some photos taken by and of your friends.

You would have given everything for just one day, one day back at Hogwarts. You looked at the photo, smiling at your friends' antics. Suddenly, a knock was heard on your door and a small head peered out.

Y/N: Mary? What is it?

She nervously smiled; she made you sometimes think of Remus.

Mary: There's a lady asking for you outside.

Y/N: Oh, then I should get that. *standing up* Thank you for warning hun, you can go back to what you were doing.

You exited the office, walking towards the entrance, swaying in between children as they saluted you. You smiled in response but your mind was somewhere else, who might that lady be? Just as you were to enter the room the mysterious lady was in, you heard a loud bang.

Y/N: Oh my! Danny! Are you alright?! I already told you not to fly on a broom inside.

Daniel: It's okay Miss Y/N. No mischief made.

"It's okay N/N. No mischief made."

Your eyes widen, the flashback hitting you hard. He said that one day after he ran away on his broom after some prank, crashing in the Gryffindor common room. "James" you whispered.

?: I was about to say the same.

That voice, no it can't be.

Y/N: Lils?

You turned around to see a red head, smiling at you. She looked tired but in a good health. You wanted to yank your arms around her but some invisible force was stopping you from it.

Lily: Hello Y/N.

Y/N: W-What. H-How-

Lily: I'm here for that. But could we talk somewhere more, private.

You guided her through the halls, back to your office. You sat down and offered her a cup of tea. You made like you used to do in Hogwarts.

Lily: You didn't change I see, still 2 sugars and-

Y/N: -One tablespoon of cream. Yeah. So what about you?

She sighed deeply.

Lily: you know, the war the Order...

Y/N: Actually, I wouldn't know because you left me. Without a goodbye, a hint, no you just erased every trace of your existence in my life.

Anger was fuelling inside of you. You wanted answers, you deserved them.

Lily: N/N, you have every right to be angry right now but-

Y/N: Hell, yeah, I do. You come back after two years just saying hi and expect like nothing happened. You know I thought I knew you Evans but clearly I don't.

She winced at the use of that name, and you turned to refill your cup.

Lily: I'm here to tell you that the war has came to an end.

You stopped in your track, no more war, peace, over, no more fear. You turned to her and she nodded, telling me she was saying the absolute truth. Like a wave of relief, your spell of protection broke and you fell to your knees. Lily rushed to your side. She told you everything. When James realised hard times were coming, he wanted nothing but to put you away from danger. And the only way was getting you away from them. So for months he argued with his friends until they accepted his request. The night of the full moon, there was still wolfsbane, James took it from the cabinet, so it was obviously not there when you searched for it. At the same time, evry house of the people you knew was being emptied. When James left you that night, he apparated at Grimmauld place. Lily said she had never seen him so expressionless, so quiet, so pale. He didn't say anything the whole day after that. He didn't do anything but stare blankly at the wall before him. he knew that with one word we would all go back and explain it to you, but he knew he couldn't. Nothing happened until you apparated in front of the place, trying to open it with the usual spell. When you broke down on the floor, James heart ripped apart and he fell on his knees at the same time you did. Never they saw him cry and scream so much. Sirius and Remus had to drag him to his room. James was never the same after that. Only the passion of seeing you one day kept him alive.

Lily: We all decided it was wiser to cut every information about your current life so we wouldn't be tempted. That is until today. Last night, James managed to kill Voldemort. I'm not suppose to be here, we promised ourself that we would wait until the announce of the end of the war would be pronounced. That is after all the death eaters will be arrested. But I couldn't wait, I searched for you, and I'm here to apologise. From all of us.

Y/N: ...Okay, that's a lot to take in... But I do forgive you. I want the other to come and see me if they want to earn my forgiveness.

She looked at you and directly nodded. She embraced you in a tight hug and noticed a photo behind your back. It was one of you and Amos Diggory, you got close when your friends got away and he was sometimes helping you at the orphanage. You absolutely loved his son, Cedric and his spouse. But that, Lily didn't know.

Lily: I have to go before I get caught.

Y/N: I'll help you find your way out.

Lily: Don't worry, I'll find it myself.

On her way to leave, she noticed a ring on your finger. Were you married? What would James say.

Lily's pov

I arrived at Grimmauld place and tried to make my way back to my room. But I was stopped by five guys and two girls, waiting for me in the living room. Shoot busted.

Remus: And where were you young lad?

Lily: I was... grocery shopping.

Marlene: Weird, because I don't see any grocery with you.

Lily: That's because they were out of everything. Sirius: Out of everything ?

Alice: Now come on Lils, the truth please. Where were you?

Lily: Ugh, just don't be mad. I-I was... with N/N.

Even though, she only said it barely above a whiper, they all heard it. James who has been awfully quiet till then, like usual now, was up on his feet. He rushed towards me before anybody could.

James: When, how, is she okay?

Lily: Okay, all of you sit down, I'll tell you.

They all sat down in the living room and I took a big breath.

Lily: She's fine, she's perfectly fine. Still with her tea with two sugars and one tablespoon.

They all smiled remembering the morning at Hogwarts, with you "Y/N tea" as you liked to call it.

Lily: She's the headmaster of an orphanage of deceased wizards and wiches. She's very loving, I can see it in her eyes. She makes me thing about Professor McGonagall when she was with you four boys. She was angry when she saw me, however when she learned that the war was no longer, she collapsed.

I saw James' body tense up and I turned to him.

Lily: Not because she was in a bad health but rather because of shock and relief. At the same time, she released a protection spell, you know that weird spell we haven't been able to identify who it was from, well from her. I explained what happened two years ago. And-

Tears of emotion started to build up in my eyes. Marlene soothed me with rubbing a hand on my back.

Lily: And she forgave me. She said she'll do the same with you if you come to apologise directly to her.

They all looked at each other, tears glistening.

James: Lils, did she tell you anything about me?

I came to the realisation that I had to tell James what I saw.

Lily: James... I think Y/N is married...

James pov

Lily: James... I think Y/N is married...

The words kept spinning, weird the world too. Suddenly I felt Pads' hand on my shoulder. I saw him mouthing my name but no sound came to my ears.

Remus: -mes... -ames... James!

I snapped my head towards moony, I don't know how but I was back on the couch.

Marlene: He's in shock.

Remus: James, can you hear me?

James: Y-yea, moony I can. No need to shout.

Padfoot: You scared us there, pal.

James: She's married...

Lily: James-

James: I have to see her.

Remus: James I don't think that's a good idea.

James: Lily, tell me where is she?

I took her by her frail shoulders.

Lily: I-

James: Where in the bloody hell is she?!

She flinched at the raise of my voice. She looked at my eyes, looking any signs of reason inside of me.

Lily: *sighed* XXXX.

James: Thanks, Lils.

I kissed her cheek and directed outside.

Lily: But I still don't think that's-

She didn't the chance to finish that I was already gone.

Nobody's pov

Marlene: He'll never listen, will he?

Sirius: That's James we're talking about. What were you expecting.

Lily: But I never said I was sure! I just saw a ring on her finger and a photo of her hugging Amos-

Frank: Amos? As in Amos Diggory?

Lily: Well, yes...

Frank: He had a crush on her during fourth year, but I didn't see it going that far...

Remus: Now's not the time for that, we have to get James before he does something really stupid. You stay here, Wormtail, Padfoot, let's go.

With that, they all apparated near the orphanage.

James: She's not here, where the hell is she?

Sirius: Wow, easy Prongs.

Remus: Maybe she's back at yours and her appartement, Lily told me she did not change.

James: She didn't?

He shook his head. Before they could protest, James was already gone, and they followed.

They all appeared next to the small house. James hurried himself to look through the windows. Everything was pitch black, nobody home. Where were you? Did some death eaters catch you? He was pulled away from his thoughts when he heard some giggling. He transformed into his animagus form, Sirius and Peter did the same while Remus hid behind a bush. They all walk slowly to the source of the sound, they had to go through a group of trees, a little forest. When they emerged out of it, what they saw broke James' heart. Here you were, in the small park you and James dreamed of playing with your children there. Except that you were with the one and only: Amos Diggory. Laughing with a ring on your finger.

But that wasn't the only thing. You were laughing with a little boy, not older than two. He looked very much like you, same eyes, same smile. You were married and with a child. You made James' worst fear come true, you moved on and realised your dreams, without him.

Y/N: Cedric! Come back here, you little munchkin!

Cedric? So that was the name of your son? He couldn't hate the child, after all he was half part of you. He heard Padfoot whimper, signalling him it was better to go. They changed back and without a word being said got back to Grimmauld place. As soon as they got there, James went up the stairs locking himself in his room, his friends calling after him. but what could they do, they all saw the same thing, you were happy, with someone else.

This situation lasted three months, James wouldn't go out of his room except to shower and go to the bathroom. His life was definitely over. By trying to protect what was the most important to him, he lost it anyway. And the worst part was that when he would go out, he would hear about how his other half is so happy.

On the other side, everyone went one by one to apologise. They did not stumble upon the fact that you were married, as your relationship was a bit fragile with all those years missing. But with time it got back like it was before. Except for one thing, James never came, and you didn't know why. War was over, he could go back to you. So, what was stopping him? Maybe he moved on, realised you weren't good enough for him. You didn't dare to ask your friends about it, until one day.

You were all at the orphanage, one night when all the kids were asleep. You were drinking fire whiskey while going through some album of you guys early years at Hogwarts. It had come an occurrence for them to pass by the orohanage, no much that the kids started to call them: Auntie Lily, Uncle Moony, Dadfoot...

Sirius: Oh, my lord, I remember that day. You turned Prongs' hair green just before a big game for revenge about one of your favourite sweater being ruined by his pranks.

Silence was made at the mention of Prongs' name. Marlene cleared her throat, closing the album in her hands.

Marlene: What about you N/N? when are you going to show us some pictures of the wedding?

Y/N: T-The wedding?

Marlene: Oh don't act fool now N/N. We all already know.

Y/N: What are you talk-

Lily: Ouh, ouh, yes. And I want photos from the day Cedric was born, with al the pregnancy. Who's his godparents by the way.

Sirius: I bet it's me, right N/N?

Remus: It would certainly be me.

You watched in horror as they argued about Cedric's godparents. You were his godmother, what were they on about?

Y/N: OoOkay, guys, GUYS. *all stopped* I don't understand a word you're saying.

Lily: Sorry, we just want to see some pictures of your wedding and your married life with Amos and your son.

Y/N: My son? Wedding? I'm not married nor that I gave birth to a child.

Sirius: Then what's with the ring, and your relationship with Diggory.

Y/N: That's my mother's ring, I just wear it that way so men would stop to flirt around me. And Amos is just a friend, he helped me build this orphanage. Wait did you really think I married him ? And gave birth to Cedric? Come on, he was born when we were still back at Hogwarts! I'm only his godmother.

Their faces went pale, they all understood and made a big mistake. They broke the heart of their deer friend without meaning to. They all looked at each other and nodded.

Remus: I'm sorry N/N, but we have to go, we'll see you tomorrow. Promise.

Y/N:Oh, okay, just be careful on your way back.

They all got home and as soon as they entered the house, the boys were rushing up the stairs, screaming for James.

Marauders: James! Prongs! JAMES!

He was in his bed and woke up in a startle.

James: What, what?

Sirius: She's not married mate.

James: What? *not fully awake* Remus: James Fleamont Potter, listen to us. Y/n is not married nor had Amos' child. We were all wrong.

That time James understood and got up quickly on his feet.

James: WHAT?!

Peter: Please don't make us repeat.

James: So, she never was married. Did she say anything else? Like about waiting for me.

Remus: Uhm, we didn't ask her.

Sirius: We rushed here to tell you.

His shoulders slumped down, how was he sure that you still loved him. you didn't ask about him which was quite fair since he was the one who left. He sat down on the bed and suddenly felt like that teenage boy again. Unsure about the fact that you share his feelings, only now, his friends weren't sure as well.

Sirius: What are you still doing here? Go, go talk to her!

James: I'm not sure Pads, what if she doesn't love me anymore?

Remus: Are you mad, of course she does!

James: Who told you that? How does she react at the mention of my name?

He was right, you always were silent.

Peter: That's normal, you left her and never came to apologise.

James: Exactly Wormtail, That's normal that she doesn't feel the same way anymore.

Sirius: Well then go find out! Are you a Gryffindor or not?

James: No... She doesn't love me anymore. She probably hates me and I don't want to hear it from her.

Remus: Hates you? James, what is wrong with you?! we came here to finally tell you that the woman you love has not moved and you don't pull out the guts to see her.

James: Nothing's wrong, just leave it!

They all decided to leave him alone. For two more weeks, James didn't move much, debating on the fact that you weren't in love with him anymore. he also accepted that you were better off without him because the only thing he managed to do was hurt you, when he swore he wouldn't. While you waited, every hour, every second of everyday, you waited for him to go past the doorstep. But he didn't. you didn't lose, you always had his favourite tea at the ready and waited patiently, like Rapunzel in her tour. That went on like that, the guys telling him to go, James refusing, you wanting, until one day.

James missed you, the photos he had of you weren't enough, but he didn't have the courage to risk and stalk you from outside the orphanage. So, he called home. He did that three times, always hanging up when you responded. The sound of your voice made his heart thump hard in his chest. The fourth time, he called and after three rings, he heard your familiar voice.

"If you're calling for Amos, please be aware that I don't date him. If this is Tuesday night, I'm with the marauders. If you got something to sell, I'm not buying, tuff luck. Anyone else leave a message after the beep. Oh and PS: if this is James Potter, I still love you."

He dropped the phone, ending the call. He couldn't believe what he had heard. You still love him? how? His eyes squeeze sht. He sits on the floor and suddenly jumps up. You still love him, what was he doing here. In an instant, he was rolling donw the stairs. They all looked at him weirdly and were surprised when he disappeared.

He arrived at you house, it was night, and you were here. He banged on your door, he heard a familiar shuffling. You opened the door and air was taken out of his lungs. Still as beautiful as ever, you wore a surprised expression that soon changed into a loving smile.

Y/N: Hello, James.

James: You still love me?

You hummed in question; he repeated pointing toward the phone behind you. you chuckled and without turning back at him you said.

Y/N: Oh, so you heard it, I guessed the one calling was you. Well, yes I still love-

Next thing you knew, James' caught your lips, kissing you passionately.

The world started to spin around you, into this never-ending waltz of love. He was the sun; you were the moon. You were the snitch; he was the seeker. You were Y/N and James and nothing sounded more perfect. You passed you hand through his messy curls, memorising everything as if when the kiss ended, he would disappear.

You gasped for air, looked at each other's eyes. By now, you had spent years memorising every little detail on his face. It was almost like nothing happened, like he was only gone for grocery shopping. But no, he came back after two years. You saving children and him saving the world.

Y/N: Wow...

James: Couldn't say any better... I'm sorry. *tears up*

Y/N: Oh, James... I would have done the same.

You looked at him, and he leaned for yet another kiss. He flinched when he felt you flick his forehead.

James: Hey!

Y/N: That's for coming so late. And don't make that face! What are you going to do about it Pottah?

James: Oh, you're so on missy.

Y/N: Yeah, yeah, keep talking, I'm going inside, it's freezing. Be free to join me... but if you enter, be aware that you're never leaving.

James: I count just on that, I'll have time to think about a little revenge for that flick.

You were already inside, standing in the doorway, you turned and smiled.

Y/N: The rest of our lives.

He grinned just thinking about it, entering the house he planned on building a future with you in. he took you in his arms and rested his forehead on yours.

James: For the rest of our lives, and much, much after.

Thaaat's it. Hope you enjoyed, especially for two specific girls. See you next time, loves <3

XOXO

[ashleyh713fanfics]

Dazai X Odasaku!Sister Ch6 and Ch7

Double Post:

Chapter 6: "Why Don't We Go On A Date?"

Chapter 7: "As Long As I Have You In My Life"

Summary: After Dazai's horrifying discovery that he is Odasaku's sister's "lifeline" and "only tie to her brother" the boy tries to give her something more permanent than a sad suicidal mistake like him.

Warning: pm! fifteen year old dazai, Dazai self destructing Odasaku death mentions, mention of torture/cruel training, manipulative behavior from both sides, underage drinking, talks of suicide. I gave Oda's sister a name but you can imagine it as y/n.

(This is chapter six and seven of my fanfic "Timeless" which is now on A03. It carries on from the three part intro I posted a couple days ago. I'll link it below to fully understand the story. Asagao's ability is to stop time for up to six seconds.)

Three Part Intro Here: (just cause the first chapter is so long)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

A03 Version Here:

Word count: 10k total

Chapter 6:

Osamu..I think you’re a good man. 

Six little words, six little words brought his entire world to a stand still. 

The foolishness of them danced across Dazai’s brain over and over again trying to decipher anything and everything about them only to come up empty. He couldn’t comprehend them, he couldn’t form them into reality no matter how hard he tried. 

So much so, that time passed by in a millisecond, Dazai staring at absolutely nothing, not present in the world at all. 

The bustling laughter of children as they made their way to school, the soft music from the speakers of the nearby shops, the feeling of a soft breeze across his features, none of them registered inside his brain. 

The only thing that did was the weight on his back, both emotional and physical as Asagao’s form slept motionless, unaware of the malfunction she had ushered by saying those six stupid, foolish and dangerous words. 

Just then, his phone started to sound inside his pocket only for the executive to finally look down and pull the object out, the move causing Asagao’s lips to let out a disgruntled groan in the process in order to shift the back of her head further across his shoulder. 

Answering the call, Dazai then heard a very familiar voice, pissed off per usual. “Hey Dazai! Where the hell are you!? I’ve been waiting for you to start this raid for three hours! You better get your sorry ass over here right now before I kick ya into next week, you hear me?!” 

At that, the boy’s eyes couldn’t help but flash with realization. Oh yeah, that’s right. Chuuya and him were supposed to raid a rival organization's hideout today. 

You see, the thing was, that whole little plan had slipped his mind because it was so utterly unimportant to him in every possible way. 

So much so, the bandaged menace lifted an eye in amusement. “Oh yeah, I decided I’m not coming! I got more important things to do. So do your best in my place, kay?” 

Lifting the phone away from his ear, he then waited as Chuuya’s voice shouted straight through the speaker, peaking the audio from how close he was to the device. “Ha?! You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me! You can’t just ditch!! What the hell do you gotta do instead?!” 

Dazai then put a finger up to his lips before humming back teasingly. “So nosey Chuuuya, are you jealous?” 

Almost immediately, the hot headed boy replied, disgusted by the notion. “Why the fuck would I be..! 

Yet that’s when the mafioso smirked before reaching forward in order to wrap his fingers around one of Asa’s crimson strains of hair hanging by her back in order to speak suggestively. “If you must know, I’m spending my day with a beautiful woman. So now you see why I can’t be there for your little raid. I’m already gonna have my hands full with something else.” 

The way he spoke those words, it was like he was implying something. Like he had just found another whore to sleep with and break for his own pleasure. And although that wasn't the case this time, Dazai knew that Chuuya would make the incorrect connection for him. 

And a moment later, the idiot man did just that. “You sick bastard! I swear to god I’m gonna..” 

Dazai only cut him off though, satisfied with the rage he had incurred before cheerfully replying back in a devious tone. “Oops! Seems like there's a bad connection. Gotta go, Chuuya! Now go be the good dog you are and capture that organization for me! Kay, byeee!” 

Then before he could interject, the brown haired mafioso quickly hung up the phone before throwing it into the grass with a large sadistic smile.

Ah, that was better. Nothing like Chuuya’s idiot thinking to snap him back to reality. 

Glancing back towards the sleeping Asagao, Dazai then lifted his hands up in order to physically push her head off of his shoulder only for the girl to groan in irritation, still not awake yet. 

Dazai then turned his body only for Asa’s head to fall onto his lap instead, the sudden warmth causing her to snuggle deeper only for the boy to tense at the sudden contact. Did this girl have no shame? She was just cuddling up with a murderer like nothing. 

Forcing himself to relax at the contact, the man then looked at her in exasperation. Damn, this girl slept like a rock. He supposed he’d have to try something else. 

Lifting his hands up, he then slipped his fingers around the large circular frames of her glasses in order to pull them off slowly with hum. “Time to wake up, sleeping beauty. Being so defenseless around a man like me, it’s not a wise decision.” 

She didn’t respond though, causing the boy to then narrow his expression before pressing his forefinger straight in the middle of her forehead roughly and poke the surface only for her to finally flop her eyes open with a whine. “Samu..” 

What was going on? She was so warm, so comfortable. 

Hold on, why was Osamu in her dreams? 

Just then, Asa then seemed to register the situation before she blinked in realization in order to propel her head off of his lap and gasp. “Osu?!” 

Laughing at her confused state, Dazai  then turned his head towards the fumbling girl. “Good afternoon, sweetheart. Glad you could join us today.” 

Asagao was still groggy though, the events of last night not fully registering as she placed a hand to her head. “W-What? What happened? Why was I…” 

Yet Dazai was happy to cut her off, his voice coming out pained and over dramatic as he held his back with a fake little pout. “You fell asleep on me and now my back really hurts. You’re so mean, Asa-channn making me stay here like this. Owwie..It was so uncomfortable!” 

It wasn’t really, but the boy wasn’t about to tell her the real reason why he had stayed complacent the whole time.  He didn’t want her to know that he had malfunctioned beyond basic human understanding. 

That just the mere belief in him had caused the boy to unravel. 

Asa only turned her head though, not really buying his “poor me” act in the slightest. “But you stayed here this whole time? Why didn’t you wake me up?” 

Almost immediately, the girl was confused. She knew Dazai wasn’t a touchy kind of guy, so the fact that he had willingly let her sleep on his shoulder for hours wasn’t in his character. So why had he done it? Why had he allowed such a thing?

And that was the question wasn't it? Why didn’t Dazai wake up, why did such a simple yet foolish statement cause him to lose sight of reality. It was stupid, he was stupid for it. Those words didn’t even mean anything. So why was he so enamored by them all the same?

But of course, he said none of those things, his mind an impenetrable fortress as he only smiled goofily in order to cover up his own conflict. “How could I when you looked so cute?” 

Asa didn’t even blink though, seeing through his facade in an instant. “I’m being serious Osu, you didn’t have to stay here for hours. You should’ve just thrown me off. I’m sure you had something important to do today.” 

That’s what he should’ve done, both of them knew it. Dazai wasn’t the kind of man to just selflessly allow such a thing to happen. Usually he’d just leave them in the grass and abandon them all together.

But this time, for some reason that Asa couldn’t figure out, he stayed. 

Not wanting to talk about such things anymore, Dazai then glanced towards the phone a couple inches away from him before recalling Chuuya’s pissed off reaction. 

And yes, he did have something to do today but letting his partner struggle was way more fun. So maybe this wasn't so bad after all. 

Because of that, the boy simply shrugged before fixing his crumbled black jacket carelessly. “Nothing interesting, but I must thank you, love. You gave me something far more entertaining in return.” 

Not understanding Dazai then watched Asa bat her innocent little eyes and turn her head in return. “And what’s that?” 

Already feeling his lips curve into a smug sadistic smirk, he finished cheerfully. “Why, an opportunity to mess with my favorite dog!” 

In fact, Dazai could already picture the stupid dumbfounded look on Chuuya’s face when he told him that he was ditching. It was music to his ears. Now he couldn’t join the raid, not when he had already gotten such a satisfying reaction from his favorite toy.

And though Asa didn’t fully understand what he was saying, his twisted response didn’t bother her in the slightest. In fact, it was the opposite, the girl thinking he would’ve been pissed after hours of having to be her pillow. 

Brushing the dirt and grass off her skirt, Asagao then pushed her feet to stand before looking out towards the bustling sounds around her. “Well, I’m glad you’re not mad but I guess I should be heading back. I already took up way too much of your time.” 

After this annoying night, the only thing she wanted now was to crawl back in her bed before she died of embarrassment from drooling on her brother’s best friend's shoulder without knowing. In fact, she could already feel the heat emerging to her cheeks at the memory. 

Yet that’s when Dazai paused before glancing towards the girl. “That might not be the best idea, love.” 

Asagao then paused only for the mafioso to grab his phone in order to show her the message he had received just a couple minutes prior. “I had my men stake out the place and it seems like Ango is still there. If you go back now he’ll probably try to drag you back again..” 

Then all at once, she felt her face fall. Oh yeah, Ango. She had forgotten about that stuck up, straight laced, government agent. Damn it, looks like she couldn’t relax like she wanted to now that he was chasing after her again. 

Grumbling to herself, Asa then ran a hand across her face with frustration before shaking her head in exasperation. Just when would he give it a rest? “...Great...looks like I can’t go home after all..” 

She then closed her eyes, trying her best not to show her annoyance before Asa sighed in order to turn back to the bandaged boy with a wave of her hand. “Either way, thanks again, Osu. I’ll let you get back to your illegal activities now.”

Dazai then watched her start to leave, already knowing that she was going to bumble around the city in order to kill time until Ango left. The question was, would she even make it back home with her blurry offset eyesight? Now that was to be determined. 

Just then, last night's events began to play in his mind like some kind of punishment. There was her voice again, mocking him into still silence. 

Osamu..I think you’re a good man.

Just great. First Odasaku was haunting him and now his sister was doing the same. Why couldn’t he get her foolish little statement out of his head? 

It’s not like he was happy about it, it was just a delusion on her part after all. Although now that he thought about it, Asagao seemed to delude herself about everything. 

She deluded herself by hoping that life had meaning, she deluded herself into never looking at the negatives and she deluded herself into thinking her big brother resented her even though it was not true.

But the biggest mistake she seemed to make was picking Dazai to be her constant, her unmovable tangible source of Odasaku’s life. Sure, letters were one thing, they were physical, unchanging, but him? He knew that he wasn’t reliable in that sense. 

Yes, Dazai knew himself better than anyone else. He was fragile and flighty, a flicker in this pathetic life that could burn out with just a slightest blow of air. He was wavering and artificial, and the fact that she had so openly stated that he was her lifeline was something that the boy found incredibly foolish. 

Because he couldn’t give her what she desired, what she needed more than anything. 

She couldn’t ground herself with him, even if she wanted to.

Because Dazai didn’t want to live, he didn’t want to wake up tomorrow and carry on with this joke of a life. And one day he was sure he would succeed in his wish to finally disappear from this world entirely. It was inevitable, and yet Asagao still clung to his physical body simply because she had nothing else to prove Odasaku’s writings. 

And Dazai knew she would be ruined like that, that putting such desperation into an already dead man would result in a cataclysmic detonation beyond human prescription. 

Because of that, the boy felt himself move, reaching forward in order to grasp onto Asagao’s hand and pull her against his chest. “You know, since we are now both suddenly free. Why don’t we go on a date?” 

Asagao only paused though, feeling the warmth from the proximity before turning to look at him in confusion. Did she just hear that right? No, it couldn’t be. “You’re asking me on a date?

Lifting his hands up with excitement, Dazai then spoke back. “Why not! My darling girlfriend has planned two of them already. I think it’s time I do the honors this time.” 

And he thought Asa would jump for joy at that, although it seemed she only stared at him with disbelief, like she couldn’t comprehend what he was saying. “I didn’t think you’d care about that kinda thing..” 

Pouting his lips, Dazai then jumped back from the girl in question before dramatically whining back. “How mean, Asa-chan. How could you say such hurtful things to your boyfriend like that? Did you ever think I just wanna spend some extra time with my cute girl?” 

Once again though, Asa deadpanned, not buying his boy-ish act. “Not really no..”

Gasping at her blunt reply, Dazai then shoved his hand over his heart in order to hunch over like he had been shot. “Ouch. You wound me, love! I don’t know how I’ll ever recover now!”

Although that’s when Asagao simply shut her eyes before giving a heavy sigh in order to turn back to the boy with a light smile. “Osamu, I appreciate the gesture but you know you don’t have to push yourself like that for me. I’ve already bothered you enough by going past our agreement and fell asleep on your shoulder without asking. I couldn't expect more.”

At that, Dazai couldn’t help but pause. Ah, she knew he was going out of his character and pushing himself past what he would normally do. What a clever girl, picking him apart like that. He couldn’t help but admire it.  

And though she was right in a sense, it wasn’t about want or not. It was more of a need. The need to give Oda’s sister something more reliable and tangible then just a sad suicidal boy like him, something that wouldn’t fade from her fingertips without warning. 

Because of that, Dazai simply reached forward in order to hold onto both her hands, a new sparkle in his eyes. “Aww Asa-chan, you’re so sweet for worrying about me. My heart has been restored! And don’t worry about the agreement, just think of this little outing as a freebie!” 

Asagao still didn’t seem overly convinced though, the girl trying to decipher his hidden intentions silently as Dazai smugly smiled. Oh, she was working overtime to get into his head, wasn’t she? Too bad he wasn’t going to reveal this little secret. 

And just as the boy predicted. Asa was stumped. She knew he wasn’t being genuine about asking for a date, that he had some kind of plan underneath it all. Hell, the boy didn’t even care about her, that much was already established. So why all of a sudden had Dazai asked for this strange request? 

She was curious, sure, but Oda’s sister still tried to stay strong, knowing she had already burdened him way too much today. Who cares if he was trying to manipulate her right now into something, their agreement was only about the letters. Nothing else. 

And she had already broken that rule tonight. No, she couldn’t break it any further. 

Yet that’s when Dazai lowered his eyes slowly before adding nonchalantly. “Oh, and did I forget to mention we are going somewhere that has to do with Odasaku?” 

Then all at once, Asagao felt her head immediately snap back to his. Wait, he was going to take her somewhere that her brother visited? Damn it, he knew she couldn’t resist that, not when she had been searching for traces of him all throughout Yokohama. 

Dazai on the other hand was smiling like a fiend, knowing that he had her right where he wanted her. From just the look on her face he knew she was squirming with conflict right now. Just the way he liked it. 

A moment later, Asagao replied, her voice slightly desperate. “Where?”

The mafioso then darkened before pushing a mocking finger up to her lips in order to cut off her curiosity. “Ah ah ah, you gotta say the magic words first. Now, let’s try this again..” 

Pushing his fingers away, Dazai then dipped his head down in a dramatic bow in order to lift his hand out to the girl in question, already knowing she was trapped against a metaphorical wall. “What do you say, love? Will you go on a date with me?” 

And for a moment, Asagao paused, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. But the more the silence clung onto the air, the more her fingers began to fidget and twitch with the idea of finding out more about her brother. 

Then all at once, her resolve faltered before muttering under her breath with embarrassment. “As long as you don’t mind..” 

Yet Dazai only shook his head at the weak attempt, wiggling his fingers in front of her before humming back in dissatisfaction. “I need a yes, love.” 

And then he waited, he waited for the submission that was a guarantee. Yes, Asagao was clever, she read him a million different ways but it seemed he still knew how to get what he wanted. And this time, he would win their little game. 

Taking a heavy breath, Asagao then closed her eyes before lifting her hand out to the devious man in question, already knowing she had lost this round. “Yes, Osamu. I’ll go on a date with you...” 

Although before her fingers could make contact with her hand, Dazai immediately closed the distance before grasping onto her hand with an excited cheer. “Yay! Now that wasn’t so hard, was it? Come on, let’s go!” 

He then shifted his fingers down to her wrist before turning around in order to drag the poor girl down an uncertain path as Dazai beamed happily, pulling his tamed little puppy along the way. 

And with that, he marked another tally in victory. 

Dazai Osamu: 2  Oda Asagao: 1

----

Chapter 7:

Throughout her blurry uncertain vision, Asagao felt her body pulled towards the unknown as she focused on the solid black mass that had consumed her whole world. And whether he realized it or not, the girl slowly felt the outside murmurs and voice disappear into her own mind. 

Because nothing else but him mattered to her.

Osamu seemed to have that effect on her every time she saw them, Asa always desperate to soak in everything about the oblivious boy regardless of the barriers in front of her eyes. His words, his actions, the way he held himself, the cadence in which he spoke, she categorized it all. 

Which was why his decision to take her on this date was so odd. 

Because as far as she knew, Osu wasn’t that kind of man. He was a cruel, manipulative, mafia executive that only did things out of pure entertainment or for some kind of tactical advantage. 

Yes, her brother was different but Asagao knew that the blood in her veins didn’t fully protect her from Dazai’s real character. 

Which was fine. She didn’t care that he was incapable of emotion and kindness. That’s not why she was here in the first place. She wasn’t that simple minded, and the last thing she wanted him to do was force himself out of that box and make him uncomfortable. 

But it seemed that today he wouldn’t take no for an answer which meant that he either had some other intention with their date or he was pushing himself to do something strange for the sake of Oda. 

Sighing to herself, Asagao then paused as her body collided with the mafia executive, not realizing the man had stopped completely. Oh, were they here already? She didn’t recognize this part of town. 

Yet that's when she felt his fingers reach forward in order to snatch the large circular frames from her face, eradicating her safety net as Asa’s eyes widened in fear. What was he doing? She didn’t want to see the world right now. “O-Osam..”

Although before she could protest, Dazai replaced the object with his hands, pushing her back against his chest in order to darken her surroundings before she could have time to process them. 

Then she heard his voice, sharp against her ear. “You’ll want to fully see this, love.” 

Fully see it? No, that was impossible. She didn’t want to see anything, she didn’t want to decipher anything fully. Then she would see the darkness, she would see the cracks in the perfect facade that life displayed. 

Dazai seemed to sense her distress though, his tone teasing as his fingers pressed deeper across her eyes to show her that they weren’t going anywhere. “What’s wrong, don’t trust your boyfriend? Afraid I’m going to hurt you while you’re defenseless like this?”

He was trying to scare her, to intimate her per usual. But if he thought that she was going to crumble between his fingers then he was sorely mistaken. “You know that’s not why..it’s just..my eyes..” 

Asa then heard him laugh in pure amusement before his bandaged arm brushed against hers in order to lift the surface and place it on an unknown doorknob in front of them. “Don’t worry, darling. I got you.” 

Did that mean he was going to keep her eyes covered for her until they got to where he wanted her to see? But what if he slipped up, what if he let go accidentally or for some kind of joke? What he was asking for required a lot of trust, trust from a boy that thrived on sadistic games. 

But even so, Asa complied, her fingers turning open the door as Dazai urged her forward in order for her breath to lodge inside her throat with each step. She had nothing to guide her, nothing but his body to rely on. 

Just then, his fingers found her wrist before lifting them up in order for her to register a railing as the mafioso hummed back into her ear. “Count the steps, love. There are twenty of them.” 

And so she did, the girl gripping around the railing for dear life as she counted each invisible step in her mind, careful not to trip as her back brushed against Dazai’s body in order to ground herself. 

Finally reaching the bottom, Asagao then sighed in relief only to hear him speak once again, the sound causing shivers to run down her spine. “Good girl, here’s your reward.” 

Yet that’s when she felt the safety of his fingers start to disappear from her eyes, causing Asa to gap in horror. Wait, what was he doing? He hadn’t given her glasses back. Was he serious about her seeing this place with her eyes? No, that was too scary. 

Blinding lights then filled her vision, causing the girl to squint before she couldn’t help but freeze at the very sight before her. And in a millisecond, she seemed to forget her own rule about viewing things from a blurry lens. 

Because staring back at her was a small cozy little bar, the atmosphere warm and secluded with rows of stools and the smell of liquor wafting through the air. 

Wait, she had seen this place before. 

Aggressively shoving her hands into her pockets, Asagao then pulled out the picture that Dazai had shown her last night before her eyes couldn’t help but widen with realization in order to lift the photo in front of the place slightly. 

Her assumption was right, it was a perfect match. 

Feeling any response fall silent in her throat, Oda’s sister whispered. “Is this…” 

Dazai finished for her, his hands in his pockets as he looked at the place in nostalgic sadness. “Bar Lupin, where the picture was taken.”

And almost immediately, Asagao felt her throat fill with emotion in order for her vision to blur with tears only for her to immediately blink them away. 

No, she didn’t want to only see the blurry picture of this place. She needed it to be real, to soak in every nook and cranny into it was permanently etched in her mind. 

Now she knew what Dazai had meant by saying she would have wanted to fully see this place without the barriers of her glasses. He was right, he was so incredibly right. This feeling, these physical floorboards under her feet. They felt so real. 

Her big brother had stood in this same exact spot, he had breathed in the same air and had seen the same view. 

Sure, she had been living in his old apartment for some time but Asagao had no proof that he had ever inhabited the place. 

But with the photograph between her fingers, Asagao knew that her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her. Oda was here, and now so was she. The idea was so simplistic and yet it brought her so much joy, her hands unable to stop the shake and smile towards the empty bar. 

Then she turned to the supposedly heartless mafioso before speaking through her tears. “Osamu, this is..thank you..I’m so happy..” 

So this is what he was trying to show her? He must have gotten the idea after hearing her outburst to Ango about not having anything but Osamu to cling to. How sweet, he knew she needed this more than anything. 

He always tried to act so scary but he really was like this, huh?

Dazai on the other hand stared at the empty place in silence as a mix of grief and familiar comfort coursed through him all at once. He had promised himself that he wouldn’t come back after Odasaku's death, and yet here he was all the same. 

The memories, the feelings were all so suffocating, he wished he never felt them in the first place. But this was the only place that Dazai knew Odasaku in, this was the only place that he could give Asagao. Because of that, he had gone against his own wishes. 

At least this place wouldn’t fade like himself, and that was enough for Dazai. 

That’s right, now when Dazai finally succeeded to die, when he left this world he knew that she could wallow her sorrows here, she could find her big brother in these walls. 

Now the boy wasn’t the only physical tie to Odasaku she had. 

Yeah, now he could die with peace again without the guilt of destroying the last piece of his best friend that resided in this shitty little life. Did that make him a good person? He wasn’t sure but this was something he felt like he had to do. 

For Odasaku, and for his precious little sister that the man had left in his fingers. 

Closing his eyes, Dazai then tried to wash away the feeling before settling into his usual seat by the bar in order to wave over the girl in question. “Let’s have a drink, love.” 

He then watched as she complied immediately, slipping into the stool beside him only for an unpleasant deja vu to fill his throat. Without her glasses she looked even more like Odasaku, especially from this angle. 

The bartender turned to him immediately, his tone plain. “What will it be, Dazai?” 

Tapping his fingers onto the top of the table, the mafioso already knew the answer. “Whiskey.” 

Then the boy turned his gaze towards Oda’s sister only to rest his head on the palm of his hand with a slight tease. “Well, what about you, darling? Don’t worry, they have apple juice.” 

He didn’t expect her to actually drink alcohol of course. She was just a fifteen year old girl, hardly old enough for liquor.

And hey, so was he but being in the mafia gave him a free pass. Besides, considering his other crimes, underage drinking was pretty low on the list of immoral behavior. 

Yet that’s when Asa pushed her lips together cutely before pushing her hand up in order to shield her hollow eyes and reply to the bartender. “Make that a double, please..” 

At that, Dazai couldn’t help but raise an eye, not expecting her response.“Ooooh, I’m impressed. But your brother would’ve had a heart attack hearing that.”

And he really would have. In fact, Dazai knew Odasaku would’ve definitely shut down Asagao's request for alcohol. Unlucky for her though, the boy wasn’t that considerate about laws and such. 

What could he say? Ango was right, he was a bad influence. 

Two amber colored drinks then slid into view as Asagao lightly traced her finger around the rim with a hum. “Would he? Then he better not find out that I started years ago.” 

Years ago, huh? Perhaps Asagao wasn’t as good of a girl as he once thought. “How scandalous, Asa-chan. Should I tell Ango about that?” 

At that, he watched her scrunch her nose up in disgust. “And what about you, Osu? You’re the same age as me.” 

Dazai only hummed though, knowing it wasn’t the same. “I’m also a criminal, love.” 

Asagao was silent, like she was processing the words before she threw the entire drink into the back of her throat before whispering bitterly. “Yeah well, so was I.” 

The words were so small and yet Dazai heard every symbol before curiosity and intrigue couldn’t help but take up his entire throat. Now why did she have to say something like that? Now he wanted to pry into her mind and pull out an answer. 

And there were many ways to do it, but none of them were savory in any way. You see, Dazai was skilled in manipulation and exploitation. He could seduce and coax even the strongest willed people. 

So trying to make Asagao talk about her life was as simple as blinking for him. 

It didn't matter if she seemed bothered when Ango brought it up last night. He’d get her to talk about it one way or another. 

Lifting his hand up excitedly, Dazai than beamed towards the bartender before waving. “Two more!” 

And as two more sets of liquor appeared in his vision, the boy simply slid them over to Asa with a fake innocence and a smile. “Go ahead, Asa-chan. And don’t worry about the price, it’s on me.”

He then watched Asagao look down at the new glass before picking up the object between her fingers.

And for a moment, Dazai thought he had succeeded in his bribe.

Although that’s when the girl simply closed her eyes before speaking into the glass plainly. “You know, Osamu. You don’t have to get me drunk. I’ll answer any question you want.” 

At that, Dazai felt himself pause before his smile dropped all at once in order for him to change into his true cruel nature. 

Ah, he should’ve figured it wasn’t gonna be that easy to coax her into his plans. He still wasn’t used to that, having someone that could read him almost instantly like a book. 

Although that’s when he truly processed her words. Wait, did she just say that he could’ve just asked her about her life? Interesting, Dazai had never had that before. Usually they shut him down and he had to resort to dirty tactics. 

How refreshing and yet utterly stupid on her part to open up to a man like him 

Parting his lips to reply, he then watched as Asagao quickly downed the two drinks he had given her anyways, causing his eyes to flash with confusion. 

Hold on, she had already figured out his plans to get her drunk and yet she was still going along with that anyways? What a strange girl. He thought she’d just push the glasses away. 

And with no answer to his intrigues, Dazai couldn’t help but speak back. “Then why are you still accepting it?” 

Pushing the glasses down from her lips, he then watched as Asagao paused before answering with a small smile. “Cause if you think I should be drunk for this conversion then I figured I should take you up on that offer.” 

She still wasn’t looking at him though, and Dazai concluded it was because she still felt uncomfortable because he hadn’t given her glasses back yet. It’s not like he minded though. She was really cute when she hid her face like that, all shy and meek. 

So instead, the boy didn’t speak about it, watching her call for another round of drinks before Dazai started his interrogation now that there was a rosy pink color to her cheeks. “Ango called you a hellhound. ” 

Almost immediately, Asa laughed under her breath before swirling the drink between her fingers. “Ah, so that’s what it is. You were right to order those drinks.” 

Dazai then watched as the girl threw back another shot before speaking distantly, like she was wrapping herself in some sort of memory. “The Hellhounds are an elite level of assassins, brought up from birth to be the perfect tools to those that hold their leash. Oda and I were orphans that were brought up into the same faction but because of my different way I saw the world,I was chosen as a candidate to be a hellhound.” 

Smiling bitterly, Asa then lifted a finger up to her throat before ghosting across the skin. “By age five I knew how to run a knife across someone's throat and put a bullet in their brain without them knowing. My ability allowed quick, precise and clean kills. You could say I was a bit of a prodigy, just like you are.” 

She then pushed, her face falling with unpleasant memories. “But the training..was intense...”

And as Dazai listened to her explanation things started to make sense. He didn’t know much about Odasaku before he joined the port mafia. He knew he was a freelance assassin but that’s about it. It made sense that he got those skills from somewhere. 

But try as he may, he couldn’t see sweet little Asagao as a bloodthirsty prodigy like he was. Sure, she had fought him before but the girl never seemed to intend to kill. 

Unless she was holding back on him this entire time.

 Ah, what a sneaky little princess. So hypocritical to tease him about playing around with her when she was clearly doing the same thing. She threw that gun away on purpose and limited her ability use during their fight to make it seem like he had the advantage. 

Now he wanted to fight her for real to see just how scary she could really be. 

Turning his head in curiosity, Dazai then pointed his finger towards her distant expression. “Is that how those pretty little eyes of yours became so hollow and empty?” 

He then watched as she clutched the empty glass between her fingers before the mafioso silently slid the rest of his drink over to her only for Asa to accept it gratefully. 

Damn, the answer to that question must’ve really been traumatic given that she needed more alcohol in response. 

And though most men would’ve changed the subject, Dazai only let her compose herself, silently watching as she closed her eyes before replying. “They made me see the darkest part of the world, they waterboarded me, disoriented me and then forced me to analyze every single depravity that the human mind could conjure up. It wasn’t for the weak of heart and… it broke something in me permanently...” 

Then before she could process it, memories and past feelings couldn’t help but creep up her spine. They were blurry and out of order but Asa got enough to know that her time as a hellhound wasn’t the most pleasant. 

Even now, she could feel the sharp cold chill of the icy tub as her ears drowned out any semblance of noise only to be assaulted with fingers on her face in order to scream at her to analyze the situation before her. She felt the blinding feeling of pepper spray in her eyes and blows to her head as she tried to answer the prompts that her captives had given her. 

She even felt the lingering sensation of cloth around her eyes as they plunged her into pitch black darkness for months on end only to blind her with bright lights and disorient her further. 

Her spine then began to shiver before forcing her eyes back open in order to blankly stare at the amber colored liquid in front of her. “I can’t turn it off anymore, I can’t help but see every fucked up corner of people’s intentions. My eyes catch every spec of darkness, every disappointment. So much so that it hurt to see, still does. I hate it, this thing they made me into..”

And that was the thing she hated more than anything. It wasn’t that those people had molded her into a robotic mold of their perception. It wasn’t that they essentially tortured her into their own design. 

It was the fact that she was now permanently damaged, doomed to live the rest of her life in a sacred manner. She couldn’t look at the world anymore without seeing the bad. She couldn’t escape the sharp headaches and nauseous feelings in her chest just by wishing she was any semblance of normal. 

Some days she even thought about ripping her own eyes out of her sockets, to perfectly gouge them out and blind herself so that she didn’t have to perceive anything ever again. 

Forcing herself to carry on, Asagao finished robotically. “But one day my body couldn’t keep up. They left me to die because I was no longer sufficient and Oda found me. Then he faked my death, hid me away, gave me my glasses so I didn’t have to see anymore and became an assassin in my place.” 

At that, Dazai felt his fingers slip into his pockets before feeling the metal of her glasses in order to pull out the object and place them on the table. 

He had taken them for her benefit but now that the boy knew the full story of such insignificant objects, it didn’t seem right to withhold them anymore from her. 

Sure, Asa had vaguely told him about the reasons for her glasses but now that the details were all laid out, Dazai couldn’t help but look at her with a new light. 

These lenses weren’t just a preference, they were a necessity to her. 

She needed them just like Dazai needed his bandages, and that was something the fifteen year old boy could understand quite well.

 It seemed like they had more in common than he originally thought. 

The girl accepted the glasses immediately, her fingers wrapping around the objects before placing the safe guard around her eyes before smiling softly in return. “And now, I’m free, my big brother gave me freedom.”

Freedom? The term was incomprehensible for the young boy. What did that feel like, to be free? To not be tied down by the darkness of the past? He didn’t know. 

Just then, Dazai’s mind filled with that same twisted mindset he had come to know. What a stupid girl, she was talking about freedom when she was sitting next to one of the most dangerous men in Yokohama. 

She had just dangled her skills and past resume in front of his face so carelessly.

Swirling his finger around the rim of his drink, the mafioso threatened back. “Shouldn’t you be a little more cautious about telling me all of this so easily? I am the demon prodigy after all. I could force you back into that life..”

And he could. If he really wanted to, Dazai knew he could pull her into the port mafia and use her talents for his own selfish desires. She had to have known that. 

But then why was she just spilling such dangerous secrets so easily? 

Asagao only hummed though, his threat leaving her unshaken. “Hypothetically yes, and I’m sure you’ve thought about it at least once or twice. I’m a tempting offer after all. Any executive would jump at the chance to use me..”

Then he watched as Asa narrowed her eyes for a moment before adding lightly. “But unlike what Ango believes, I know you won’t actually do it.”

Wouldn’t actually do it? Now that was a bold statement. He wondered what proof she had for that. “And why is that, love?” 

Although that’s when Oda’s sister turned her body towards him for the first time since their conversation in order to speak with a victorious tease. “Cause it’s not what Oda would’ve wanted.” 

At that, Dazai felt his lips curve into a bitter smile. Ah, she was right. She knew that Odasaku’s blood in her veins was keeping her safe. It was almost like she was rubbing that little detail in his face. Low blow.

For as dark and twisted as his mind was, Dazai knew that Odasaku had spent years trying to keep his little sister safe. Sure, having her in the port mafia would be a great benefit, but it would also ruin everything his best friend had ever worked for. 

And that was something Dazai couldn’t do, no matter how evil he claimed to be. 

Feeling himself laugh under his breath at her correct assumption, the boy then turned his head, playing devil's advocate just for the hell of it. “And let’s just say I didn’t care about that. What would you do then?”

Asagao then paused, thinking about his question before answering back with confidence. “Then I would let you drag me into the port mafia. But the only orders that I'd ever answer and respect would be yours.”

Dazai was certainly taken back by that. Was she serious? He knew her dedication to him was rather irrational but would she seriously put herself back in the darkness for his sake? Would she really disobey her big brother's last request that easily? 

Trying out to laugh off her foolish joke, the boy pushed his hand under his chin before teasing sensually. “I’m flattered, love. So you would be my loyal subordinate then?” 

But there was no hesitation or humor in her response. Only straight laced honesty. “Yeah, cause I need you by my side in order to see my big brother. Subordinate, girlfriend, they are just titles. An excuse, a way to keep each other around. In the end it doesn't matter what I’m called as long as I have you in my life.” 

And try as he may, Dazai couldn’t help the bitter, unpleasant taste that built up in his throat. No, she wasn’t serious. There was no way. Her admiration, her desperation to find her brother, would she really have gone that far just for Oda’s sake? 

He hated it, he hated the very little self respect she displayed, knowing that Odasaku would’ve also been horrified by what she was saying. She didn’t need Dazai in her life. Hell, her life would’ve been so much better without even knowing him. 

And he knew that their titles of boyfriend and girlfriend were a sham but he never thought it would go this deep, that she would so desperately grab onto whatever excuse she could find in order to connect the two of them together. 

Because of that, Dazai felt his mind run wild with possibilities.

In another reality, if that actually happened, if he had dragged Asagao back then did that also mean that Oda’s sister would’ve killed for him? Would she have snapped back to her old ways just in order to please him, to give him a reason to keep her around? 

Didn’t she know how dangerous that was? 

How could she possibly give a demon like him that much power to abuse?

Stretching her arms up in the air, Asagao then gave a goofy smile before beaming towards the boy all at once. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter what we call ourselves. In any universe or reality it would still be the same. You’re not getting rid of me anytime soon, Osu!” 

She said that so proudly, so confidently that Dazai couldn’t help but allow his eyes to fall back on his drink. How could she be so passionate about him? He was a mess in every possible way. No one wanted to hang around him, and for good reason. 

Their lives were so similar, both filled with horrors and brutal truths, and yet Asagao always wore a smile while he drowned in the pointlessness of it all. How could she do it? How could she feel so free when he was still chained by his own mind even today. 

Because of that, Dazai felt his own tipsy lips move without permission, whispering into his glass with a sadness he rarely let free. “After seeing all that evil, how can you not want to die like me?” 

And then he waited for her response, his shoulders tense and anxious from the sudden spilled murmur before Asagao lifted her head up in silent thought. “Mmm I don’t know. By all aspects that should be the case, right? But I’ve never felt that way, not once..” 

Then her lips formed a lighthearted smile in return. “I guess it’s because I’m waiting for life to pleasantly surprise me. Just like you do, Samu.” 

At that, Dazai lifted his head up in confusion. “How have I surprised you?”

Pushing her hands across the bar in explanation, Asa then replied lightly. “Well, you showed me this place to make me feel better, right? Even though I’m sure it brought back unpleasant memories, you still took me here for my sake..”

And Asagao knew that Dazai could act all he wanted but he had shown his true colors tonight. Sure, he may have used an underhanded tactic to bring her here but he had knowingly done the one thing she needed more than anything else. 

Dazai though, didn’t feel the same way, knowing this date wasn’t as pure as she was making it out to be. The only reason he brought her here was to shift her devotion and admiration to something else, something more permanent than a dead man walking.

Pushing his hand up to his lips, the boy frowned under the skin. “Did it ever cross your mind that my reasons were selfish?”

And for a moment he thought she’d be disappointed, that she’d yell at him or cry once she realized the fabrication he had set up to make himself feel better. 

Although that's when he watched the girl turn to him, her hand to her heart in absolute passion. “So what? Selfish and selfless, those are just small details. The results are the same. Doesn’t change the fact that you gave me such a precious gift..”

Lifting her hand to rest against her head, Asagao then gave the stunned boy a toothy smile of glee before adding wistfully. “But then again, nothing could ever be as precious as you, Dazai Osamu.” 

And with those words, Dazai’s eyes widened in order to find himself slipping back into the very same malfunction that had plagued him just a couple hours ago. 

Precious? 

Him? There was no way. He was just a pathetically depressed kid. He wasn’t anyone, especially anyone precious. She was the precious one, she was Odasaku’s beloved sister and he was..well..he was nothing of value..

So much so, the boy tried to wipe the compliment away, not knowing how to take it. “You’re drunk, love.” 

He then watched as Asagao’s lips turned into an adorable little pout in order to whine back to him through her rosy pink cheeks. “Whaaa, am not! I was being serious! I really do think you’re precious to me, even if you don’t feel the same. And anyways, It takes a lot more than..one..two..three..a bit of booze to knock me down!” 

Dazai then watched as the red haired girl looked down at her fingers before failing to count the number of drinks she had ingested only for the boy to snicker under his breath. 

Oh yeah, she was definitely drunk. 

So much so, the boy lifted his hand up before patting the top of her head like a little puppy in order to break her concentration. “Careful, sweetheart. You’re gonna burst a blood vessel if you think that hard.” 

Seemingly jumping back to life, Asa then lifted her finger in the air. “The point is..!” 

Her eyes then began to daze in order to slowly drop her head with confusion. “What was the point again..” 

Yet before Dazai could answer, Asagao was back at it, her expression changing back to one of passion in order to lean closer on her stool. “Oh yeah! The point is, why would I wanna die when there are still so many opportunities for the world to be beautiful? I don’t wanna miss one by giving up so soon..” 

Leaning even closer, the girl then gasped as she slid out of the stool completely only for Dazai’s strong bandaged arms to catch her before she hit the ground. 

Asagao didn’t seem to care though, her eyes showing through her glasses in order to lift her finger up and boop his nose with a slight giggle. “And neither should you, love”

Then the girl seemed to gasp in excitement before completely slipping out of his arms in order to turn to the small radio next to the counter. “Ah! I love this song! Turn it up Mr. Bartender!”

Skipping over to the open area, Asagao then began to bounce and dance to the song in child-ish glee only for Dazai’s eyes to travel down to the hands that once held her before balling his fists with a bitter chuckle. 

What was she saying? He shouldn’t give up on life? Foolish girl, he gave up a long time ago. It was too late for those kinds of words. She should’ve known that. 

How dare she put such pointless and toxic thoughts inside his head like that. 

Lifting his head to look up at the carefree girl, the mafioso then watched in stunned silence as she twirled and giggled across the bar without a care in the world. 

She looked so free like this, so unchained and open. He wondered how it felt, to radiate such genuine happiness and to be unequivocally herself. Because Dazai had never felt happy, not in that kind of way. 

He used happiness as a tool, as a mask to further his manipulation. He knew the concept, sure, but actually conceptualizing such a thing? He had realized from a young age that it was impossible for someone as broken like him. 

But Oda’s sister, she seemed to radiate the emotion with her entire soul, she knew the wonder and mystery of it. And Dazai couldn’t help but be jealous of such a fact, knowing he would never experience such a human emotion to the level that she was. 

That’s when his eyes couldn’t help but flash with painstaking realization. 

Oh, he had it wrong this entire time, didn’t he? Dazai had connected the similarities between their backstories, their intelligence, their manipulation and their necessity for his bandages and her glasses. 

But looking at her now, the boy knew they weren’t anything alike. 

In many ways Asagao was like a sun, her light always exuding positivity and hope with every response. She was unreachable, a fragile yet strong flower that was just barely out of reach in every possible way. 

And Dazai, well he was a black hole, unable to find anything of value but the darkness that always consumed every part of his twisted fucked up soul. And while she was unreachable, he was a ghost, flickering in and out of this life, unable to touch anything or anyone. 

They shared so many similarities and yet Asagao still saw the good, she saw the very best the world could offer while Dazai couldn’t even find one beneficial thing around him. 

He almost wished that they didn’t weren’t so alike, simply because then the boy could excuse their lives as plain nativity on her part. 

That’s what he thought all that positive bullshit came from in the first place, thinking that she was just a spoiled and sheltered girl that Odasaku had protected. 

But she wasn’t, she had seen just as much evil and pain as Dazai had. And yet, her responses were so vastly different. She had managed to keep her humanity while the boy had descended into a full blown monster. 

And Dazai would be lying to say he wasn’t both incredibly jealous and yet so genuinely intrigued by her in every way. 

No, that wasn’t the right word. 

He was enamored, he admired her resolve more than anything else. What a beautiful, enthralling sight. It was intoxicating, and enchanting in every way, seeing how she defied the corruption of the universe. 

Although that’s when the bartender interrupted his thoughts, his eyes also gazed towards Asagao in question. “Dazai, who is that woman?” 

Shifting his body to rest his back against the bar, Dazai then smiled to himself before answering honestly. “She’s Odasaku’s sister.” 

The bartender then felt himself freeze before looking at the girl in a whole new light. “I can see it.” 

Lowering his eyes in admiration, Dazai then felt his lips curve a bit wider. Ah, she’d be so happy to hear that. “Me too.” 

And he really did, he saw Odasaku in her so clearly, especially now. It was in her carefree attitude, it was in the sense of unbothered calm she always had when she was around him. If only Asa realized just how much she brought her big brother to life by just merely existing.

Lifting his head to the sky, the boy then closed his eyes in order to speak to his old friend. Oh Odasaku, why did you give me to your sister like this? Don’t you see I’m no good for her? Did you really trust me not to corrupt her?

Yet that’s when he heard another voice enter his mind only to watch a drunken man try to make his way up to Asa only for Dazai to darken his eyes in order to quickly jump off his stool and lift an arm out to the girl in question. 

Asa then felt his bandaged arms wrapped around her waist a second later, pulling her into his chest only for the girl to look up in her drunken daze. “S-Samu?” 

She was then met with his endless brown gaze, staring at her in order to slip his hand into hers with a light chuckle. “Can’t leave my girl hanging, now can I?” 

Feeling his head tilt towards the unwelcome presence, Dazai then pushed her body closer to him before glaring wordless in silent threat for the depravity that lay behind the drunken man's eyes. 

The stranger then stumbled away in order for the mafioso to hum in acceptance before his hands traveled to his “girlfriend’s” hips as she hummed to the music. “Didn’t think the great executive liked to dance.” 

Smiling under his breath, Dazai lowered his head, meeting her eyes. “What can I say, you’ve inspired me.” 

Yet that's when Asagao’s lips turned into a frown before turning away from his gaze with a mutter. “What am I gonna do, Osu? I can’t go home..Ango is gonna say annoying things again..” 

At the mention of Ango, Dazai felt his throat tick with unpleasant memories. Ah, that’s right. Ango was still staking out her place, hoping she’d come back. Well, it wasn’t like she could show up drunk either, then he’d really have a conniption. 

But it also wasn’t as if he could let the clumsy glasses-wearing girl out free in Yokohama. She couldn’t even find where she was going sober, which meant she definitely wasn’t going to be okay like this. 

Which only left one option left. 

Asagao then felt his lips brush against her ear before she heard Dazai’s next words, the meaning causing her entire body to shiver and her eyes to widen all at once. 

“If you really have nowhere to go then how about you come to my place, sweetheart?” 

[adaze-4d4z3]

[DELETE]

Extra+rambling under cut

Me when clear all Cathy (feat: my pm oc/insert)

No but I started to cry when it got to this stage of the node and man I clicked on the thing like 30 times before clicking on the clear all Cathy. MAN I THOUGHT IT WAS JUST A COOL JOKE UGHHHH. Also Cathcliff is one of my favourite PM ships now they’re just cute.

Random note but I couldn’t finish this when the 3rd part of the canto came out because my iPad kept crashing on the Vergilius node and I had to wait like 1-2 days before I was reunited with my computer to finish this so I missed out on the cleared before nerfs : ( (The moment I got home after a 8 hour flight and 2hr ride home I played through the last bit because I didn’t wanna be spoiled lol, and a lady at the airport got me sick too so I was jet lagged, tired as hell and sick but first priority was limbus lmao)

But like, seriously this canto made me spiral on this one thought. So in the canto it is explained that souls can’t like move on to actual death death because the Wuthering Heights manor is built on a stream. This stream that’s the same thing that the original seed of light project utilised to make cognito and in lobotomy corporation it’s derivatives such as enkephalin and the light/ golden boughs.

And we learn in Lob corp that cognito is pulled up through a well, likely connected to another stream of sorts. (Or is it just the bucket/ Carmen’s nerve system?) (because if it’s just that everything else here’s just invalid lmao)

So like if every branch had a well, which they would because they will have the extraction team to get more abnormalities that means there was a ‘stream’ of sorts underneath every Lob corp branch.

That means in every facility there’s just ghosts haunting the place. Everywhere. And people who died in those places even after Lob corp fell, (Aya, Yuri, the bug veterans) is also just ghosts there now???

Imagine Yuri just dying in that branch and is greeted by the ghosts of all her former co-workers and they’re just like oh cool you managed to get out but why tf did you come back or something.

But this is more interesting for the main facility, the main branch because of Enoch/ Tiphereth B and the light that happened. So Carmen and Ayin got sucked up into the light right? So what about all the other dead souls unable to go on because of the stream? Did they get sucked into the light as well? So is there just a hive mind of people up there we don’t know about? Especially for Enoch since he was a pretty big player in the script and everything. (Here’s where I shall just ramble about the little boy because I quite like the little man) If he got swooped up into the light as well what would his interaction with Carmen be like. I would think he’d just forgive her because he knew what he was getting into. But what about Ayin? Would he understand that this was for a better purpose or be angry at what he made the others (especially Lisa/ Tipherepth A) go through? And additionally would he be angry at Lisa? I pose this question because he wanted to have a purpose, a bigger reason to be living and would he view her letting him be killed (again) as something sad because he could never experience the end of the script and the result of his work/ his ‘purpose’ that he lived to create. Or would it be a little more messed up where he finds his purpose in the light, helping distort people/ gain EGO. (Mostly gain EGO as the preferable outcome, Carmen in Leviathan says something to that extent where’s it’s better for people to ignore her and develop EGO) (I think, I haven’t really read it, just watched random analyses using Leviathan for evidence) And if all the dead people in the main facility is in the light imagine what the actual hell they could do. Like that’s so many people in there.

Also if they are all in the light Tiphereph reunion isn’t impossible, but unlikely since Tiph A has gone through her character develop already :T but I want to see that. How Tiph B feels about what Tiph A did both with pushing Carmen further down depression and her decision to put him down for the sake that he didn’t have to suffer. And just how Tiph A would react to seeing/ hearing him in the light which she probably won’t think it’s a good thing he’d getting caught up with Carmen again : P

Also could the records team have something to do with this fact as well? Like does this explain how the dead are able to come back other than the time thing?

[thedreamworldlibrary]

Two Birds Chap. 2- Separated in Sadness

Trigger Warning!! There’s only a few, but it’s still a warning!! Bullying and slight transphobia. 

Here is the next chapter for you all! I’m glad you’ve been enjoying this Au so far.

I was going to get this next chapter out sooner, but a few things delayed me from doing so.

First was the newest short for WTDW and I had to think if this should be a time-skip chapter or not. Then I came up with a Pokémon WTDW AU (as well as a few more AU’s and stories for this series) and wanted to work on that specific AU before working on Two Birds again. Be advised I work on tons of fanfictions and my brain wants to focus on one before working on the other. Finally, after the newest episode came out and boy that episode gave me ideas for ALL my WTDW fanfics~ I did have ideas for this Au before the episode since this is an Au after all and I’m excited!

Last but not least for those new to the fanfic. I know Wiatt is trans, but to play it safe I’m using his he/him pronouns at an early age.

Also BIG thanks to @gigilefache for being my beta reader!!

Enjoy!

It was Sunday night, and that specific night was the final night before Wiatt and Sara headed back to school. Owen decided to celebrate that night by cooking the two’s favorite dinner; spaghetti and meatballs.

Once the food was done and laid out on the table, Owen yelled for his friends. “Wiatt! Sara! Dinner is ready!” 

Owen sat down and waited for his kids to come running down the stairs and quickly eat their dinner, but something was off.

“Wiatt! Sara! I made your favorites!” Owen yelled again.

He then heard footsteps, but they seemed quieter than the loud running footsteps he’s been used to. When the twins came down, they were upset, not saying a word as they sat down to eat.

“Alright, what’s wrong you two?” Owen asked. “Did you guys argue again? Or did you lose a level on that kart racing game?”

Wiatt and Sara glanced at each other before they topped their spaghetti with some cheese and extra meatballs before eating in silence.

Owen sighed and started to think of what else could have upset his twins. “Alright, I’m gonna guess. Is it about school tomorrow?” He asked.

Wiatt and Sara nodded yes as the two started to eat their food.

“I see,” Owen said. He knew why the twins were upset, and despite them being okay about it, the thought of the first day of school being the next day the harsh reality hit the twins hard. “Look this was bound to happen, you guys can’t be in the same classes every year.”

This made the twins feel worse.

Owen was starting to run out of ideas to cheer his kids up. He had to think of something, quickly. “M-Maybe it won’t be so bad. Besides, you'll have time before class, recess during lunch, and lunch time to spend time together.”

Wiatt and Sara looked at each other, feeling a little better, “I guess you're right.” Wiatt replied.

Owen gave a smile, “see!” He exclaimed. “If it makes you feel better, how about on Friday I’ll treat you two for ice cream.”

“Alright! I’ll give it a try.” Sara replied, smiling knowing ice cream was mentioned.

“Same.” Wiatt replied.

“Great. Now eat your dinner, and maybe if you finish it, there’s two slices of cake I bought for dessert you two could have” Owen reminded them as he ate a bite of his dinner.

The twins gasped and smiled before going ahead and eating their spaghetti. Once they finished their dinner, Owen took the plates and as promised gave them each a slice of cake for dessert.

A little later, everyone went to sleep, tucked in and completely full. However, a few hours into the night, Wiatt was awoken by someone shaking him.

“Wiatt.” Sara whispered.

Wiatt groaned and saw his sister awake and holding her little goat plush. He looked at the time to see it was 11:20 pm. “Sara, it’s the middle of the night, what do you want?” He asked.

“I can’t sleep. Could I sleep with you?” She asked.

Wiatt sighed and moved over a bit so his sister could have room. She gave a small smile and got into bed with her brother.

“Thanks.” Sara said.

“No problem.” Wiatt replied.

Sara got herself comfortable and turned to her brother, “are you scared?” She asked.

“Of going to school?” Wiatt asked back.

“Y-Yeah.”

Wiatt sighed, and turned to give his sister a hug. “I’m scared too, but remember you have me to talk to if anything happens.” He reassured her.

Sara sighed, “okay.”

Wiatt smiled and pushed a strand of hair from his sister’s face. “Now, get some sleep.” He said, closing his eyes and drifting off.

“Okay. Night, Wiatt.” Sara whispered before closing her eyes and hugging her goat plush tight.

“Night, sis.” Wiatt replied as the twins fell asleep.

The following morning, Owen dropped off the twins at school, who just stared at the building in its looming presence. “I wish you two luck on your first day, you’ll be fine I promise.” He said before driving off.

Wiatt sighed and held his backpack tight, “well, let’s get this over with then.” Wiatt said.

“Okay.” Sara replied as she followed behind her brother.

As the two made their way to the 2nd grade line up area and saw their classroom numbers were next to each other. “See it might not be so bad, I’m right next door.” Wiatt said, putting his arm around his sister.

Sara sighed, “I guess.” She replied.

Wiatt ruffled her hair a bit as they both put their stuff down and ran to the school playground to play. It cleared Sara and Wiatt’s mind for a bit and once the bell rang they were ready to go inside their respective classes. Before they left, Sara hugged her brother before following the rest of her classmates inside of her classroom.

Once inside, things remained calm, however, Sara had a feeling that something was going to go wrong. She decided to shake it off and focus, it was the first day after all…

What’s the worst that could happen?

Behind Sara, sat three kids who glared at her from behind. “Isn’t that the girl who’s dad runs that local arcade?” A blonde-haired kid, named Jo asked.

The other kid, a boy, named Maddy, looked over and nodded. “It sure is.” He exclaimed.

The three friends smirked and the other young boy threw a paper ball at Sara’s head. She was confused and turned around and the kids pretended they didn’t throw the paper at her. Sara sighed and shrugged it off as she grabbed her stuff from her backpack.

Seconds later another piece of a rolled up paper ball hit Sara again. She was getting annoyed and glared at the trio. “What’s so funny? Huh!?” Sara asked.

It wasn’t till one of the taller boys, Geoff, stood up that Sara silenced herself. . Sara squeaked and went quiet before going back to her seat.

“Man, she’s such a wuss.” Jo whispered.

“For being related to the arcade man, she’s pathetic.” Geoff replied, as they laughed.

Sara sighed and decided to ignore them. They were being jerks, she’s seen those kinds of kids at the arcade, and all she had to do was ignore them and not let them get to her. Even if she felt like crying…

With it being the first day of school, it was more of introducing the kids to what they will be learning throughout the year, rather than actually learning. However, despite the supposed-to-be welcoming environment, Sara's new bullies persisted. They continued to throw things, as well passed a note around that had bad language about Sara, which made the other kids snicker. Once the note went to her, Sara’s eyes widened seeing all the comments her peers wrote about her.

Sara’s pathetic.

Sara’s a weirdo!

Sara’s a loser.

Sara held back tears, but her sniffle was heard, which made the kids snicker.

“She’s gonna cry.” Maddy whispered.

“So she is a baby.” Jo added.

Sara put her head down, she glanced at her teacher who passed by the bullies, but said nothing about how they were acting. This crushed her a bit, and she wished lunch time would start so she could be with her brother and get away from her classmates.

By lunch, all the kids were playing on the playground, but not Sara who sat underneath a big tree with her knees up to her face.

“Sara?”

Sara looked up to see it was her brother, who looked worried at her.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“No.” Sara replied.

Wiatt sat next to his sister and put his arm around her. “What happened?”

Before Sara could respond an empty water bottle came flying and hit Sara in the head. She let out a shriek and while it didn’t hurt her, it did scare her. Wiatt was horrified and turned to see that the trio of bullies standing where the bottle was thrown.

“They happened.” Sara cried.

Wiatt glared and growled as he marched over to the bullies. “Hey! Knock it off!” He yelled. The bullies stared at Wiatt with a smirk. “Leave my little sister alone!”

“Huh, didn’t know the wuss had a brother.” Geoff commented.

Maddy scoffed, “he doesn’t look like a boy. He looks like a gir-'' the boy was cut off when Wiatt shoved him to the ground.

“Don’t you DARE call me a girl!” Wiatt shouted.

Jo shoved Wiatt on the ground back and pinned him down.

“Wiatt!” Sara yelled, as she runned towards her brother. However, before she could pull the blonde haired kid off her brother, Geoff grabbed Sara by her overalls and pinned her down as well.

Sara shivered as tears started to fall from her eyes. She let out a sob as she saw Jo punch Wiatt in the face. Her eyes widened in horror as she saw that she was going to suffer the same fate as well.

Just as the taller boy was about to hit Sara, the bell rang and the bullies got off the Nicholson Twins. “You two are lucky the bell rang!” Geoff shouted.

“Next time you mess with us, we’ll do so much worse to your wuss of a sister!” Jo threatened before the three walked back to class.

Wiatt glared, “jerks!” He spat, getting up and checking on his glasses to see if they were cracked. He turned to Sara who got up and was crying. Wiatt frowned and slowly went to his sister and pulled her into a hug.

“I don’t like school anymore.” Sara cried. “I want to go home!”

Wiatt frowned and rubbed his sister’s back as she cried. He didn’t care if both of them would get in trouble for coming back late, his sister needed comfort right now.

When school ended for the day, Owen waited in his car for his kids. He saw most of the kids walking out the school, but not his own. He was worried his kids got in trouble on their first day of school. Just as he was about to leave the car he saw Wiatt and Sara come out of the building, but something felt off about them.

Wiatt and Sara saw their dad’s car and went over to it, opened the door and sat in the backseat not saying a word or even looking up at their father.

“Are you two okay?” Owen asked.

“No.” Sara replied. “Some kids hate me.” 

Owen’s eyes widened until he looked at his son. He let out a gasp seeing a bruise had formed on his cheek. “Wiatt don’t tell me you got into a fight again.”

“I had to! They threw an empty bottle at Sara and they called me…” Wiatt shouted, forming tears in his eyes.

Owen frowned, “Wiatt I told you no fighting. Even if it’s just to protect your sister, or even to correct people.” He reminded his son.

“I know! But they deserve it!” 

“Wiatt Rowan Carlos Nicholson enough!” Owen shouted.

Wiatt shut his mouth as his father dropped his full name. Sara flinched as well.  “Sorry.” He said, quietly. “I just don’t like how Sara was treated today.”

Owen sighed calming down. “I understand you care for your sister, and I’m sorry for raising my voice.” He said.

It went quiet in the car, as everyone needed to calm down after what happened. Sara was the one to break the silence, “c-can we go home now?” She asked.

“Y-Yeah. Let’s go home.” Owen replied as he started the car and drove back home. The car ride was silent, no one said a word or asked if music should be played. It was going to be a long school year for the entire family.

~~~~~

Incase anyone doesn’t know who is who (my headcanons only)

Geoff is Gruff

Jo is Nightlight

And Maddy is Lorenzo

I only kept Maddy from my original fanfic called Sara, but I re-named the bullies since now we got more lore about the spirits representing the defunct animatronics.

[writing-blocked-me]

Would've Could've Should've

Taylor Swift Lyric fic - PM! Dazai x Reader (minor Chuuya x reader)

CW: Angst, hurt no comfort, Taylor Swift, Dark Era, PM!Dazai, unrequited love, BSD spoilers, Sadness, heartbreak

Pairings: Dazai x reader, slight Chuuya x reader

Summary: Taylor Swift Lyric Fic, I recommend listening to Would've Could've Should've from Midnights.

‐---------‐----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If you would've blinked, then I would've

Looked away at the first glance

You looked at Chuuya, your former leader, who simply nodded, then turned to the boy in the oversized black mafia cloak. He was looking back, irises so dark they blended with his pupils to form an abyss. Dazai Osamu, the demon prodigy. He stared at you, intensely, unwaveringly, commanding you to gaze back, head hitting ever so slightly in curiosity. After what seemed like hours of staring him down, his lips curved into a smirk.

" We'll get along just fine I think "

If you tasted poison, you could've

Spit me out at the first chance

A year had passed and you were now stood outside the Port Mafia executive's door. 2 knocks. 3 knocks. Wait. Then finally.

" Come in"

The door opened and you stepped into the office. In a second, lips were on yours, hands moving up and down your sides as you were backed up against the very door you just walked through. You broke apart to see that same abyssal stare boring into you again. This time, however, you were equal parts afraid, entranced and enamoured. You lost yourself in his sweet taste, oblivious to the poison disguised in it.

Ooh, all I used to do was pray

Would've, could've, should've

If you'd never looked my way

Stolen glances in the corridors of that huge building, wanting gazes and lingering touches, he always left you wondering what if, savouring the could have been. They left you wanting more, begging for more, worshipping the man who gave you so little attention.

I would've stayed on my knees

And I damn sure never would've danced with the devil

Then that attention disappeared, along with the man. The night he left, your soul shattered. In agony you fell to the ground, tears flooding your vision, regret filling your heart. Bitterness filled your mind as it played through all your fond memories together.

And the God's honest truth is that the pain was heaven

And now that I'm grown, I'm scared of ghosts

Memories feel like weapons

And now that I know, I wish you'd left me wondering

You could never hate him, despite your best efforts. Nor could you forget him. Not when his time with you made you feel the way you did - as if all the stars had

finally aligned for the sole purpose of bringing you two together. Heavenly. Until he left. You'd long left behind hope he'd return, especially not for you, and now every memory of him cuts into your soul like a knife, shoots through you like a bullet and infects your insides with poison. You could never hate him, not fully, but you could regret him and ponder the what ifs.

If you never touched me, I would've

Gone along with the righteous

If you simply walked away that day at the cliffs, maybe you would've been with him now - in whatever way that was friendship or romance. You'd heard around the office he was a detective now, working for good. You laughed. He had dragged so many, including yourself, into darkness but only managed to save himself. Clearly not much had changed.

If I never blushed, then they could've

Never whispered about this

The new job was not the only gossip spread around Port Mafia headquarters. Looks of pity flashed your way whenever you travelled outside your office. Though years had passed, Dazai's sudden reappearance clearly reminded everyone of the history you'd rather stayed buried.

And if you never saved me from boredom

I could've gone on as I was

You'd been called in with Chuuya to help on a mission, retrieving Q. Never would you have expected to see him there too, acting as if nothing had happened, cracking jokes and poking fun, entertaining you once more.

But, Lord, you made me feel important

And then you tried to erase us

The moment ended when Steinbeck and Lovecraft appeared. Soukoku swiftly defeated them, While you tended to Q. When the fight ended, Chuuya collapsed and he two of you carried him and Q to the rendezvous point, all the while joking and flirting, as if nothing had changed, as if he hadn't left. He set Chuuya down and started to walk off, but this time you were there, you could catch him. You did catch him; you were met with disappointment.

Ooh, you're a crisis of my faith

Would've, could've, should've

If I'd only played it safe

You didn't beg, you didn't plead, you simply offered up a single word.

" Stay."

Hope filled you for the first time in years. Soon again it was dashed as he turned to you with a glare, one you'd only seen turned on the Port Mafia's enemies. It froze you in place, how could he ever turn that gaze on you. If you'd only stayed where you were. If you'd only stayed silent.

I would've stayed on my knees

And I damn sure never would've danced with the devil

You could've continued believing he still cared. Now you have the truth. Regret fills you once more as the memories flood back. This time with the rose-tinted glasses off.

And the God's honest truth is that the pain was heaven

And now that I'm grown, I'm scared of ghosts

Memories feel like weapons

And now that I know, I wish you'd left me wondering

All the pain he caused with his presence in you like rushed through you, but even that couldn't erase the moments of softness that caused your heart to flutter. Each memory a different bullet piercing your soul, shattering it all over again. You wished you hadn't spoken to him.

God rest my soul

I miss who I used to be

The tomb won't close

Stained glass windows in my mind

I regret you all the time

Sat in the bar, you nursed your glass. You hadn't cried, despite all the sadness welling in you. You haven't been the same since he left the first time, but this was worse. You hadn't spoken in weeks. Your subordinates were incredibly concerned, as was Chuuya. You were one of his oldest friends, sticking with him even when the Sheep betrayed him. He had been aware of your relations with Dazai, but had wanted so little to do with the mackerel that he shut it out of his mind. After Dazai left, he assumed you had done the same. Clearly that was not the case. Clearly whatever happened hadn't given you the closure you so clearly deserved.

I can't let this go

I fight with you in my sleep

The wound won't close

I keep on waiting for a sign

I regret you all the time

You couldn't get over it. You couldn't get over him. You replay that night on repeat, thinking of how you could've gotten him to stay, of how you could've broken him like he broke you. The memories won't go away and neither will the pain.

If clarity's in death, then why won't this die?

Years of tearing down our banners, you and I

There was no sign of an end to the pain and no light at the end of the tunnel. No matter how hand you tried, your feelings would not go away. No matter how clean you got, how new your clothes and furniture were, how much you tried not to think about him.

Living for the thrill of hitting you where it hurts

Give me back my girlhood, it was mine first

You spent your days wishing for his warmth, and working for his demise, hoping for a freedom that would seemingly never come. Desperately, you yearned to go back in time and walk away.

And I damn sure never would've danced with the devil

The demon prodigy would never be this hung up on her. Their memories don't haunt him. He surely wasn't filled with regret. In fact, it was doubtful he ever thought of you at all.

And the God's honest truth is that the pain was heaven

And now that I'm grown, I'm scared of ghosts

The pain of knowing he never cared haunts you, you can't get the memories out of your head, even years later.

Memories feel like weapons

And now that I know, I wish you'd left me wondering

The memories of your time together hurt you, but they were also hurting others. Cutting them out before they could ever get close. In the end, you weren't the only one left thinking what if. A certain redhead was left wondering what if he had gotten to you first, what if he could have saved you from that pain.

[hearts4golbach]

Light Shower. (Sal Fisher x Fem!Reader.)

part 7

-

"and all my anger, sadness, regret disappeared, its madness."

-

I walked next door to Sals apartment and knocked on the door. to my surprise, Henry answered. he looked like he was in a rush.

"Hey, Mr fisher! are you okay?" I asked cautiously.

"yes, thank you, sweetheart. I'm about to be late for work." he gave me a sad smile. "cone in, sals in his room."

"thanks, I hope you make it in time." I grinned back at him.

I knocked on the door before walking into sals room. he was laying in his bed in boxers and a T-shirt. he was playing on his gear boy.

"Hey, babe. you okay?"

he looked over at me and sniffled. "I got sick somehow." sal chuckled.

"oh, I'm sorry, sally face." I rubbed his arm. "can I crawl in with you?"

he nodded. "if you wanna catch whatever I have."

"I can take it." sal blushed. i climbed in, wrapping my arms around his waist, meanwhile making sure I didn't get in the way of his vision. "how are you not suffering with your prosthetic on?"

he giggled. "I am suffering."

"have you taken medicine and atleast drank a little water?"

he paused. "uh..."

"sal!" I exclaimed, getting up. I went to get him a glass of water and a little medication. I brought it back to him. "cant have you dying on me, damn."

"I'm not going to die, Y/n. it's not that serious." he rolled his eyes.

"you never know!" I replied in a sing song voice. I crawled back in bed next to him and handed him the water and cough syrup.

he took off his mask and quickly took the shot of medicine, grunting as he did so. he took a sip of water. "thank you, love." he gently kissed me, staying against my lips for a few seconds before pulling away. I moved his hair out of his sweaty face before moving back to my original position around his waist. I listened to him hum as he played his game before slowly falling asleep.

-

I woke up a few hours later, around 10. sal was asleep, too. I stretched before checking my phone.

larry: wya Todd's parents just gave me more weed ;) - 9:18 pm.

larry: Y/N!!! - 9:26 pm.

larry: uve got 2 be shitting my dick - 9:31 pm.

me: oml sal is on his death bed I can't leave him - 10:18 pm.

larry: idc bring his ass with!! - 10:21 pm.

me: he's sleeping

larry: wake the beast from his slumber and let's goooo

me: ure annoying lol

larry: I give u free weed that's not possible

me: my bad gangster let me see if sal wants 2 go

larry: tell his ass I got soup

me: lol ok

what I didn't realize is that sal was awake already. I turned to look at him, bit he was already looking at me. I jumped. "you scared me."

"sorry." he apologized with his raspy voice. he sounded worse. he kissed my forehead.

"we don't have to go to Larry's, you sound worse."

he cleared his throat. "I'm fine, he seems desperate and he has soup."

"mk." I whispered, gently kissing his soft lips. he wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me in. "maybe we should just stay here."

we got up and sal put on pajama pants, tossing me a pair too. sal strapped his mask back on and we made our way down to Larry's apartment.

me: u better prepare soup cuz I'm pretty sure that's the only reason he's going

larry: already on it :D

-

larry and I got baked while sal happily ate his soup, with his mask on, of course. after he had finished, I laid my head in his lap and talked to larry about his girlfriend.

"dude, she has the biggest tits I've ever seen!"

"bigger than ashs? no way."

larry rolled his eyes. "sure."

"damn, bigger than mine!?!" I exclaimed. I glanced back at sal, who's ears were turning a shade of pink. I smirked to myself.

"yep."

sal coughed. "no way were talking about this. I don't even believe that."

"oh my god, sal."

-

I sat in my hospital bed, trying to comfort Y/n. she hadn't been allowed to take her pain meds that day.

"I'm sorry you hurt, Y/n." I frowned, watching as she curled up into a small ball.

"it's ok, sal." she whined as she pulled her knees closer to her chest. "can you read me a story?"

and I did. I read her 3 of the stories dad had brought me while I stayed in the hospital. i kept reading until I realized she had fallen asleep. I wasn't completely sure she could fully hear me through my bandages, though.

-

I took care of sal the next week, making sure he took his medicine and drank water. I stayed most nights with him so he didn't have to be alone. the funny thing was, by the time he was fully healed, I was sick, myself.

[joylinda-hawks]

This master must have been Qin Huai Zhang, the leader of Siji Manor. WOH, episode 11, part 2. WKX in a conversation with LQQ says that he would like her to do something for him. The woman tells him to say so. WKX gets up from his chair and walks up to LQQ, and asks if she learned the ability to transform her appearance at Siji Manor. Beauty Ghost confirms this, WKX asks if she has been to Siji Manor, the woman denies it, LQQ explains that when she was little, she had the opportunity to meet a martial arts master who felt sorry for her disfigurement so he taught her the art of transformation. She adds that this is all that happened. WKX replies that this master must have been QHZ, the leader of Siji Manor. LQQ replies that it was. WKX says that he heard that in Siji Manor flowers bloom all year round and it is very beautiful there. Saying this, he walks past the woman. WKX says that if she met QHZ, why didn't she visit him? LQQ replies that she is now part of the ghosts world and no longer thinks about the welfare of the living world. She says that she wants to be loyal to WKX and Ghost Valley. WKX listens to her carefully and says that it is true, because they are ghosts. He adds that in the light, ghists disappear like scattered ash and smoke. The woman turns to WKX, who is standing with his back to her, who also turns to her and nods his head to signal that he wants to tell her something. The woman approaches him to listen to his instructions. The streets of Yueyang City are full of life and people. ZZS walks down the middle of the street and drinks wine from a bottle, finally reaching the entrance gate to the Yueyang Sect and looks at her. In his mind, he says that the world is so vast. He is now alone and can go wherever he wants. He wonders why he should stay here and watch these fools put on a show. He states that he has seen enough of them. He adds that he would have spent all these years differently and decides to go his own way. Meanwhile, in the sect, ZCL returns to his room after training, notices the food boxes on the table, and goes to the bowl of water to wash himself. While washing his hands, ZCL notices a piece of paper stuck under the bowl. He pulls it out and sees a note that he is to come to the northern garden tonight at 11:00 PM. The letter is signed by Xu's name. ZCL is happy, thinking that it was ZZS who sent him this message. When night falls, the boy only pretends to sleep, waiting for the appointed hour to come and wondering how to avoid the guards. When it seems that the right time has come, ZCL sneaks out of the room and runs, trying to avoid the guards. He almost succeeds, but one of the students who was stalking him stops the boy, asking why he is sneaking around. ZCL replies that he is hungry and can't sleep, so he went out to find something to eat, and asks if there is anything wrong with it. The student replies that of course not and insultingly says that when Master Zhang becomes the leader of the Yueyang Sect, he will be able to do whatever he wants, but that is a matter of the future. The student asks what ZCL wants because he will pass it on to the kitchen, and the boy is to go back to WKX thinks that LQQ will tell him more about Siji Manor and its inhabitants, but it turns out that the woman has never been there, so WKX only gives her orders. ZZS is also upset about what happened and that meeting WKX was a disappointment. He drinks wine and walks the streets of the city stating that nothing is keeping him here, he has always been alone and now ZZS is alone too, so he can die alone. Meanwhile, ZCL, reading the letter, thinks that it is a message from ZZS, he is a naive child, he does not expect a trick, so he sneaks out of the room. Unfortunately, not everything goes according to his plan. ZZS and WKX are not in a good mood when they are not together. Even though they do not show it on the outside, they definitely miss each other's presence. I like the sadness and melancholy that both actors ZZH and GJ show in their scenes.

[hyunlixsbbygirl]

♡︎ Things Can Change 2

So, what happens after that kiss that hyunjin and felix shared? Literally nothing... at first.

──❥ pairing: hyunjin x felix

──❥ length: 1.8k

──❥ warnings: idol au, angst, fluff, swearing, crying

──❥ note: the characters don't represent real idols; this is a work of fiction intended for entertainment purposes only. this in no way represents nor reflects real life. this work has been cross posted to ao3 under the username thishippiekid.

© hyunlixbbygirl do not copy, translate or repost my works

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Felix was confused; it had been a month since Hyunjin had kissed him at the company and since then, nothing has happened. Literally nothing. The day after the kiss, Hyunjin practically avoided him again; he went back to avoiding skinship and being grumpy anytime he was forced into it. At first, Felix brushed it off as the older just being shy or maybe stressed out but when Hyunjin stopped eating with them and hanging out with them before bed; he knew something was wrong. 

Chan was the first to notice there was tension between the two again; Felix would stare at Hyunjin while Hyunjin avoided looking at Felix. Or Felix would walk over to talk to him and Hyunjin would just walk away. He really hoped that this tension was just temporary and that the two would talk it out but after a few weeks of this weird behavior he could no longer contain himself. During vocal lessons, Chan pulled Hyunjin aside to talk to him. 

"Okay, what the hell happened? I thought you and Felix made up, why are you avoiding him again?" the leader asks, his voice steady and full of concern. Hyunjin didn't expect the leader to be so calm about this, Felix was basically his baby so he thought surely Chan would rip him a new one. Hyunjin shrugged, he honestly didn't know why he was avoiding the younger. He just felt weird anytime they were together, not in a bad way though. 

"Do you even see how much Felix is hurting over this? He can't dance properly, his voice keeps cracking when he sings, and he hasn't done aegyo on stage since the dream concert. He may not show it, but he's hurting and you don't even seem to care." Hyunjin flinched, truth be told; he knew Felix was hurting. The once bright, sunshine boy had slowly begun to lose his light and all the members noticed. "I know..." Hyunjin finally spoke. 

"If you know then do something about it. Preferably before he has a mental breakdown, please. You know he's emotional and he loves you so much, this is literally killing him Jinnie." Chan's voice became softer, he recognized the body language Hyunjin was projecting. Felix wasn't the only one hurting, Hyunjin was too and killed the leader to see them in so much pain when it could be so easily fixed by just talking. 

Chan gave the younger a pat on the back and led him back into the vocal training room; Felix glanced up for a moment before averting his eyes again. Hyunjin stared at the younger with a sad look in his eyes; this time Jisung noticed and looked at Felix who was furiously rubbing his eyes the way he usually did when he was fighting back tears. "You okay twin?" he asked the day younger member, Felix just nodded and wiped his nose on his sweater. 

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That night; the boys had dance rehearsal for five hours starting at 7 pm. They were all exhausted but it was more evident in Felix and Hyunjin who were also emotionally drained from this game they seemed to be playing. Chan sighed, it was going to be a long night and he just knew something was bound to happen; he wouldn't be able to stop it either so he anxiously went through their practice, watching over everyone just in case he needed to step in. 

They had only been rehearsing for two hours when the blow-up happened; Felix had stumbled and fell into Jeongin who also fell to the ground. "Yah Yongbok ah!" Chan winced. He knew it was coming and now here it was. Felix helped the youngest up to standing, apologizing profusely; Jeongin assured Felix that it was okay and no harm had been done but it was too late. Hyunjin had called out the younger harshly and now they just to ride out the storm. 

"How can you call yourself a dancer but continue making stupid mistakes!" Felix's face fell, he never expected Hyunjin to be the one to yell at him. "Hyunjin, calm down. It was a simple mistake and they didn't get hurt." JIsung tried, he saw the emotions building up inside Felix. It wouldn't take much more before the younger broke down and he really didn't want that to happen. "He should know better than to let simple mistakes happen!" 

"I said I was sorry! Why are you yelling at me!" Felix screamed back; tears falling rapidly from his eyes. "Why are you being like this!? What did I do to you to make you hate me so much!?" Hyunjin's hard expression softened; he knew Felix was hurting but he never thought the younger would think he was hated. The older opened his mouth to say something but Felix interrupted him, "I don't get it Hyunjin! You kissed me and then acted like I was nothing to you!"

Minho covered his mouth in shock; the other members also had similar expressions, none of them knew about the kiss but everything was starting to make sense. Hyunjin walked up to Felix and grabbed his wrist but the younger yanked it out of his grip, "If you hate me so much you should have never kissed me." and with that Felix ran out of the studio in the cold night leaving everyone standing in the studio unsure what to do. 

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Chan burst into the dorm room 30 minutes later screaming Felix's name; after the younger had run out of the studio, he went off on Hyunjin for what he did. Hyunjin just stood there in shock though so Chan ran out after Felix, hoping to find him back at home. "Felix! Please tell me you're here!" his voice cracked in fear. "He's not answering his phone... and his shoes aren't here" Jisung spoke out loud as Chan came storming into the living room. 

The other four members all piled into the dorm to see Chan shaking and calling Felix over and over again; Jisung shook his head indicating that Felix wasn't here. "Guys, where's Hyunjin?" Minho asked trying not to let Chan hear him. Chan has really good hearing, heard him anyway, and looked up, he mentally counted his members including himself only to come up short two kids. "This cannot be happening" he groaned. 

Changbin was already calling Hyunjin while Jisung called Felix; neither of them answered. "I'll go check the dance club, Jisung, go check the cake shop" Jeongin commanded as the two rushed back out the door. "I'll go back to the company just in case they go back, Changbin go check the park" Seungmin commanded next as they also rushed back out the door. Minho sat down next to Chan, who was still calling Felix frantically. 

Minho pulled out his phone and started calling Hyunjin; "They'll be okay hyung. We'll find them." 

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Hyunjin wandered around the park; he had a feeling Felix would be there somewhere; during their trainee days, the younger would often come here to think and let off steam. He just needed to remember where his secret spot was but searching in the dark was making it difficult. He considered calling out to him but he figured the younger wouldn't answer him so finding him alone was his only option. His heart felt like it was being squeezed. 

Felix was sitting on the ground behind a large bush where he could be hidden from the walking path; his eyes red and puffy from crying. He never felt more alone in his life; he was hurt and confused. How could Hyunjin treat him like that? He started sobbing again trying to hide his sobs in case someone walked by. 

Hyunjin finally started seeing familiar landmarks and trees as he walked down another pathway, carefully looking for the bush that hid Felix's secret spot. That's when he found him; curled into himself, shoulders shaking as he sobbed silently. Hyunjin ran over to him, throwing his arms around Felix and sobbing harder than he ever had before. Felix let out a startled yelp, feeling someone hugging him from behind. 

"Lixie...I'm so sorry." Hyunjin sobbed. Felix sobbed harder as he turned around to throw himself into the older's arms; they grabbed desperately at each other, trying to pull each other as close to them as possible. "I'm sorry I ran away, I didn't mean to scare you." Hyunjin pressed a kiss to the side of Felix's temple and rubbed his back gently. "I'm just glad you're safe baby, that's all that matters. I was so worried. I didn't... I don't hate you, baby." 

Felix leaned back a little to look into Hyunjin's eyes, "Baby? Why are you.." Hyunjin closed the gap between them, lips pressed against each other. Felix squeaked when he felt the older's lips against his own; his fears quickly melting away as he closed his eyes. The kiss became desperate, hands wandering over each other's bodies as Hyunjin pulled the younger into his lap. Hyunjin's tongue swiped across Felix's lower lip begging for permission to deepen their kiss. 

Felix's lips parted and their tongues danced together in a messy kiss as soft moans began escaping their throats. They pulled back panting when the lack of oxygen became too much; "I love you Lix." Hyunjin whispered, his fingers running through the younger's hair lovingly. "I love you too" the older smiled as pulled the younger back into him, kissing him gently and lovingly. 

"They're just fine, trust me Channie. Everything is just fine." Changbin whispered into his phone as he watched the two younger members from behind the bush. 

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It was shortly after midnight when Hyunjin and Felix finally returned to the dorms; the other six members were all gathered in the living room waiting for them. Hyunjin had his fingers intertwined with Felix's; smiles plastered on their faces as they held onto each other while removing their shoes before stepping into the living room. "Channie, I'm sorry I ran away. I know I worried you." Felix said immediately. Chan stood up and wrapped his arms around the younger. 

"I'm just glad Hyunjin found you and that you both are okay." The oldest pulled back and looked down at their hands; the two blushing lightly. "Did you guys make up? For good this time?" Felix nodded shyly, "Of course we did. I can't stay mad at my boyfriend for that long right?" Hyunjin cooed as he kissed the younger on the cheek, unable to keep his hands off him for very long. The members loudly gasped and broke out into cheers and claps. 

"Boyfriend?" Chan questioned. Felix nodded, "I know we still have the dating ban but, isn't it better that we're dating each other rather than someone outside the group?" Felix asked nervously. Chan wasn't too sure about this whole relationship thing but he was just glad that the two finally worked things out. "We'll discuss this more in the morning." 

Slowly the boys trickled into their rooms; Minho and Jisung being the only ones to stay in the living room for a little longer. "So, would now be a good time to mention that we've been dating for months?" Minho shook his head, "Let them stay ignorant."