#why i always choose the hard way i do not know

[dollfacefantasy]

SINCE YOU'VE BEEN LIKE THIS ♡

pairing: light yagami x fem!reader x l lawliet

summary: you and light have been a pair for as long as you can remember, but lately he's been pulling away. in your time of uncertainty, you end up getting close to l, maybe a little too close. now light's back to normal though, and you're left to figure out how you want to fix the mess you've made.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, double penetration, fingering, handjob, threesome, voyeurism/exhibitionism, praise/degradation, infidelity, messy behavior in general, light angst here and there

wc: 19.6k

a/n: finally it is here <3 sorry for the delay, it has been a rough couple weeks. reblogs, comments, and asks are always appreciated <3 also i just have to put out there that my main in mario kart is waluigi till the day i perish 🙏

kinktober slot: day 27 - double penetration

"Light, can you slow down a little? Or at least tell me where we're going?" you called out to your boyfriend walking three paces ahead of you. Three paces he seemed hellbent on keeping between you and him.

He didn't answer your plea. Didn't even spare you a glance. On the contrary, you were pretty sure he sped up ever so slightly.

With a petulant huff, you tried to follow him along the crowded street as best you could. It was just difficult when you didn't really know why you were here or what you were supposed to be looking for. He never kept you well-informed when it came to his plans. Most of the time, you were shocked he even let you tag along at all.

His eyes constantly darted around between groups of people lining the path in the most subtle way. His head didn't move at all, but his pupils bounced around in every direction. Yours remained on his figure. At first, you'd tried glancing around too, but you couldn't figure out for the life of you who or what he was trying to find. You decided to just focus on not getting lost instead.

Bounding up closer to him, your fingers brushed his own. His hands had always been so smooth and soft. No calluses, no blemishes. No mileage at all. You went to intertwine your fingers together. That was when he finally acknowledged you.

He pulled his hand away.

You frowned, choosing to believe it was accidental. That your boyfriend wouldn't reject you so purposefully. You tried again with more intention, clasping with your whole palm rather than hooking pinkies.

His response matched your increased effort. He bent his arm at the elbow and pulled his hand out of your reach, fully removing the opportunity for physical contact. Then, he scowled at you, and his lips curled into that sneer you were becoming more familiar with these days.

"What are you doing? We're here to work," he said, talking to you the same way he talks to anyone else who inconveniences him, "This isn't a date. Try to focus."

"Light, I-" you went to defend yourself. But he cut you off before you got the chance.

"If you're not interested in helping, then stay out of my way," he directed before turning away.

Your lips closed up again, any words wilting away in your throat like a bouquet of old roses. You swallowed the petals down hard. You couldn't get emotional, let alone cry. If you did that, your lover would never let you hear the end of his disappointment.

Your lover. You didn't even know if it was accurate to call him that anymore. More like you were the lover, and he was your beloved. Your Light.

The two of you had been together in a way for as long as you could remember. Friends as children, crushes in your teens, and now as adults, officially boyfriend and girlfriend. You'd wanted this for so long - to say he belonged to you, that you were the ones who owned each other's hearts. But now that you had that, it didn't feel how you imagined it would.

You looked down as you traversed through the crowd. 

The relationship between you and Light didn't feel like a fairy tale. It didn't resemble the romantic movies he used to tease you for liking. You could never imagine him kissing you in the rain or singing some love song or whatever else the guys in those movies did to win back the girls after hurting them.

When Light hurt you, either by brushing you off or saying words cold enough to freeze your pumping heart, he barely even said sorry. He'd give you the look, mutter a "I didn't mean it like that," and if you were lucky, half-hug you and kiss the crown of your head.

He hadn't always been so uncaring. A cloud had cast over him at some point during your teenage years, worse than any usual case of angst. His mental storm seemed to block out any rays of sunlight permanently. In recent months, it had gotten worse. Ever since the start of this investigation. 

The two of you were supposed to be entering the primes of your lives. Enrolled in university, beginning everything together. But he just grew darker by the day, and you didn't know how to stop it. You could feel him dissolving into ash between your fingers. Slipping away while you desperately tried to hold onto whatever you could.

Barbs started to form in your throat and clearing it didn't help any. Reflecting on your crumbling relationship always reduced you to a state of silence or tears. 

You counted the cracks in the street as you walked. It didn't matter to you if you lagged behind and got separated from Light at this point. He made it clear you weren't needed nor wanted. Getting lost wouldn't really mean anything. You could just make your way back to the task force earlier than you'd anticipated. He probably wouldn't even notice your absence.

A few steps ahead, you bumped into his back, earning another glare. He seemed to have come to a dead end in his search. Groaning in frustration, his eyes landed upon you, even harsher than before.

"Don't just stare at me!" he snapped, "Call back to the task force. Let them know we'll be returning soon."

The words struck you as if they were physical arrows. You turned away and pulled out your phone, flipping it open and dialing the number. The tone rang over the painful silence between you two. You tried to choke down any scratchiness your emotions could cause in your voice before someone answered the phone.

Suddenly, a calm voice echoed into your ear.

"Yes?"

L.

"Hi... me and Light will be back soon," you said. The less words you used, the less likely you were to crack.

There was a pause. You wondered if he could tell if something was wrong. You almost hoped that was the case.

"Alright. I take it you two didn't see our target?" he asked.

"No," you answered in the same quiet voice, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I didn't expect the two of you would be successful," he said. His voice was soft, like he truly didn't mind. The exact opposite of your boyfriend's. "We'll talk when the both of you return to the hotel."

He hung up first, and you flipped your phone shut seconds after. Turning to face Light, you found him already staring at you.

"He says he'll talk to us when we come back," you informed him.

All you got in response was a nod. He brushed past you in the direction of the hotel everyone was at for the day. Following along behind him, you didn't say anything. You folded your arms over your chest, not in defiance or anger. It felt defensive.

As you trailed him, the thoughts swirling through your mind consumed most of your attention. Why did you even continue doing this? You were just as much a member of the task force as Light, but he treated you like you were a secretary at best. 

In the past, your father had worked with Mr. Yagami as a detective. You'd grown up in the world of suspects and investigations, taught to solve puzzles since you were old enough to keep yourself upright on your dad's lap at his desk. 

L himself had approved you to work on the Kira investigation independent of that fact. He saw that you could keep up. But still, it felt like everyone treated you as Light's sidekick. You were cute! Smart for a girl. So sweet to dedicate all this time to helping your boyfriend.

By the time you reached the elevator, you were talking yourself up to quitting. You wanted to catch Kira. You believed in this job. But maybe if you cut your losses now, you could still salvage a relationship with Light. Or at least your perception of him. You wouldn't come to resent him if he wasn't yelling at you day in and day out.

You stayed behind him as the two of you walked down the hallway to the room. The lamps lining the walls flickered, making the already dim lighting worse. Your eyes stayed down on your shoes through the entryway and into the room. Light briefly caught up his dad on the day's events, and then you heard that same voice that talked to you over the phone.

You looked up. And suddenly, quitting didn't seem like such a perfect plan.

The syllables of your name rolled off his tongue like smooth billows of smoke. Something fluttered in your belly that you hadn't felt in a while. You used to feel it for Light until every time he spoke your name, it came out with disdain.

L talked, but you only half-registered the words. He was more focused on the points your boyfriend was firing at him anyway. You watched how his dark eyes focused as he absorbed everything about the conversation happening between them.

Your own gaze on him held nothing but admiration. You felt things about L that you wouldn't be able to articulate if asked. At first, you had the same reaction to him that everyone did. You thought he was strange. From the way he sat to his eating habits, you didn't understand him. But over the course of the investigation, you dedicated yourself to trying.

In a way, you looked to him as an aspiration. The pinnacle in the field of investigation. Quite possibly the smartest man in the world (though you'd bet Light would roll his eyes if he heard you say that out loud).

As you watched him now, his crooked posture and jaw rotating while he chewed on some saccharine treat, you began to mentally revise some of your earlier thoughts.

He was the only one who didn't view you as an extension of Light. When you were working with him, you weren't the feminine version of someone else. You were just you.

The only time you believed you deserved to be here just as much as Light was when you were sitting near L. You'd propose an idea or question something, and the way he would look at you made you feel like you weren't just a little kid everyone allowed to play dress up among adults. He'd give you a simple praise. "Nice work," or "Could be. Interesting." And you'd beam like you'd been given a trophy.

Right now though, even his proximity didn't help to brighten your mood. The clouds from your boyfriend snapping at you hadn't cleared just yet.

The conversation occurring in front of you came to a close. Light gave a quick goodbye and then turned to head out after his father. He clearly expected you to follow, but before you could, something else drew your focus. L, saying your name again.

"If you could, may I ask you to stay for a few moments?" he said, expression unchanging.

"What do you need to talk to her for?" Light interjected before you had the chance to answer.

Your head swiveled between the two of them. On one side was L, calm and unbothered by the clipped nature of your boyfriend's voice. On the other was the latter, his mouth twitching with the urge to scowl.

If you didn't know Light as well as you do, you might have thought this was a bout of jealousy. With the current state of things between you two, that might have even made you happy. A sign that he was still invested in you. But you did know him, so you knew that if anything, he was jealous of the fact that L had deemed information suitable for only you.

"It's nothing serious. Just a few questions about some files she brought to my attention last week," L further explained.

You stood there unmoving, as if you needed Light's permission to talk to your teammate. Looking back at him, you waited for some sign of approval.

He glanced at you and then back at the man behind you before shrugging.

"Fine. I'll see you later," he told you, barely saying goodbye as he exited.

The rest of the task force had also cleared the room for the day, leaving you and L in the cool hotel room alone. Your eyes glanced around to distract your mind from the awkwardness of the situation. The tacky pink wallpaper plastered all around you felt like it was closing in at the moment. The only sound between the four walls was the hum of the air conditioner. That was until he waved you over to the sitting area.

"Come here for a second. I wanted to talk to you." His voice sounded as though he didn't feel any of the tension you did.

You followed him as you had followed Light earlier, quiet and lagging behind a few steps. You took a seat on the ivory loveseat against the wall. He slid around the table. You expected him to sit in the chair at the end of the coffee table like he usually did, but instead, he landed next to you on the chiffon cushions. Your heart skipped a beat. You wondered if he was about to give you some sort of bad news. Maybe you'd made a mistake in your work. Maybe you were now a suspect too.

Regardless of what it was, he bent his legs up so his feet rested on the material. His normal crouching position put you at ease.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

You blinked at the question. "Um... no?" you said.

He hummed in acknowledgement. His process of studying one's features was slightly less endearing when you were the target.

"You seem upset. Are you sure you're alright?" he tried again.

"Yeah," you nodded. Your eyes cast down to your lap. "I'm ok, really. I'm sorry if I seem a little off. Just not a great day, I guess."

"Did something happen earlier when you were out?" he said, seeing right through the excuses.

You looked up again, bringing him back into your field of vision. "Not really..." you opted for, though you knew you sounded unconvincing.

"Nothing out of the ordinary?"

"Definitely not out of the ordinary," you sighed before you could stop yourself. Realizing you probably shouldn't have said that, you sunk back against the stiff backing of the sofa.

"What does that mean?" he asked from beside you.

You weren't totally sure why he was going down this line of questioning, but you answered anyway. L had never given you a reason not to trust him.

"It's just stupid stuff. Between me and Light. Nothing you'd want me to bother you with," you shrugged.

"Try me," he said.

You looked at him tentatively.

"Both of you are key members on this task force," he continued, "If something is affecting your ability to work with other members of this team, then I think it's in my best interest to know about it."

A moment of further hesitation passed before you sighed. Your hand rose to your eyes, stretching your fingers over your brow and rubbing at your frustration.

"He just doesn't seem like himself lately," you said, "Or he does, I guess. But he just... he's different with me."

You found your legs pulling closer to your body and your feet perching at the edge of your seat too. Maybe sitting like this did help you think.

"Distant?" L asked from his side of the furniture.

"Sort of... it's like he wants to be distant, but we work together so he can't be. I don't know," you said. You cut yourself short because you could feel your throat beginning to tighten, and you refused to let yourself cry in front of your teammate whose respect you so badly crave.

"Well. The stress of this whole case is probably weighing on Light, especially with him being a suspect..." he said, trailing off in the way he tended to do.

"I guess. It just feels like he can't even stand the sight of me anymore," you said. Your voice cracked the tiniest bit, but you knew he heard it. A shaky breath left you, and you tilted your head back, as if gravity could keep your tears at bay. "Not that long after we started dating, things just got different between us. It's just... disappointing."

The man beside you nodded as if trying to contemplate what to say next. "Have you talked to him about this?"

"Light doesn't do talks like this," you said, barely louder than a whisper.

Another plume of silence rose between the two of you. You swallowed hard, neck still against the back of the couch. Vaguely, you felt the pressure of the seats shifting, the weight on it redistributing.

You took your hand away from your brow and turned your head to find L much closer. His wide eyes stared at you from less than a foot away.

"Someone who cares about you shouldn't be making you so upset," he mused.

To stop your lip from wobbling, you held it between your teeth for a moment. Even though nothing audible came from you, a small drop of water rolled from the outer corner of your eye. Without missing a beat, his thumb came up to wipe it away. If you weren't yearning for someone to care about how you felt, maybe you would have been confused by it. But right then, it felt good.

"He's just so mean now. He was always sharp before but now... he looks at me like he hates me," you whispered.

He seemed to be the one hesitating now. His eyes rested on your features.

"You're an intelligent girl. Light is smart too, of course, but he has no right to order you around or insult you," he said, "I hope you don't feel like you have to put up with that because you work together."

The others had noticed it too then. You hadn't given any specific instances of how he treated you, but he still knew.

"I know I don't have to. I just... I don't know how to be without him," you said, feeling pathetic. You shouldn't need this guy you've only known for such a short amount of time to tell you this stuff. But as he spoke to you with such tenderness, you found yourself wishing he did it more often.

"You know you're a pretty girl. You're sweet and thoughtful. I'm sure there's a lot of people who would feel lucky if you gave them the time of day," he said. The words came out slow, as though he was traversing a field of landmines. "I'm only saying that because staying with someone out of obligation rarely pans out."

You simply nodded in response. What he was saying was the truth. Part of you already knew it. The other part just didn't want to quit yet. It was as if Light was another puzzle, and if you could just put the pieces together right, the picture would form in the end. But the part of you that had already been thinking what you just heard, that was the part that wanted to squirm when you heard the words pretty girl fall from L's lips.

"I know it's not really my place to comment on your relationship," he continued as though he could read your mind, "I just don't want to see you quit this. You're a valuable member of this task force. I would hate to see you run off by petty drama."

You nodded, his words steeling your resolve. "I won't quit this," you confirmed. You wouldn't let Light ruin this for you, but more than that, L wanted you here. And you wanted to be here with him.

"Good," he said while staring back at you. He leaned away from your body and brought his legs down to the floor like he was about to stand. "I don't have anything else to discuss with you. The files thing was just an excuse for Light. You're free to-"

And before you knew what you were really doing, you pushed yourself across the loveseat and crashed your lips against his. To your shock and relief, he didn't push you away. You heard a muffled noise burst out against your mouth, but then you felt him sink into it too. His hand cupped your cheek, and he reciprocated.

A breath you'd been holding since joining this case seeped from your lungs. His lips were so soft, his palm just as delicate. You scooted a little closer to him, feeling the rigidness of his side against your leg. You couldn't remember the last time Light had kissed you like this.

And as that thought crossed your mind, guilt washed over you in a tidal wave.

You pulled back, eyes heavy with the weight of your actions and lips parted so hot puffs of air could flow in and out.

"I'm sorry," you said immediately, "I shouldn't have done that."

He stared back at you, completely motionless for the moment. You started to get up, but he reached out and grabbed your forearm, stopping you.

"Don't be sorry," was all he said at first.

The both of you were trapped here together, locked in the haze of feelings and morals clashing. You wanted to go back in so badly. You wanted to taste him, to feel every detail of his mouth long enough to commit to memory. By the way he was keeping you here, it seemed that he too had some of the same desires.

"I'm sorry because it was unprofessional, not because I don't want to," you clarified softly.

"It was," he agreed, not unhanding you, "I know you're right. It's not a good idea. We should be focused on the case. I shouldn't have involved myself to this degree at all."

The words came out like they're meant to convince himself rather than you.

"Just tell me," he continued, "Did you mean it, or was it a mistake because you're upset?"

"It wasn't a mistake. I meant it. But I can't," you said. But fuck, you wanted to.

He looked so pretty sitting there. His shaggy black hair hung in his eyes which were just as wide and uncertain as yours.

You knew that even though Light could be a huge dick, this was wrong. This wasn't justified, and you should not continue. What you should've done was get up and walk out the door.

But something held you there across from L.

"I understand," he said simply. He wasn't going to force you to do anything. If you strayed from Light, that would be your decision.

'Get up. Get up. Get up,'  repeated in your head over and over. But you didn't follow your own mental advice.

"Did you want it? Or was it just the heat of the moment?" you asked softly.

You could see the indecision written all over his face. To make things more complicated with the truth or let them return to normal under the guise of a lie? The conversation lulled with the delay, but then his silken voice spoke the answer you'd been waiting for.

"I wanted it. I've been wanting it," he told you, "Everyday I see you, it gets harder to stand that I don't have you to myself."

And you knew you shouldn't, but now, you needed to. You pushed yourself forward and closed the gap. His thin arms encircled you to pull you toward him.

"Just this once, we can. Just for tonight, you can. Please," you whispered.

And who was he to deny you?

The problem with that night was that it hadn't turned out to be just once.

In the moment that you spoke those words, you meant them. You truly intended for it to be a one time thing. A small slice of pleasure you allowed yourself to indulge in. A secret that would weigh on your heart for the rest of your life. A brief lapse in judgment. A mistake.

But after the fact, what transpired between you and L felt like anything but.

One small kiss turned into several which whisked the two of you into a breathless makeout session on that loveseat. After a while, you'd crawled into his lap, and he'd slipped inside you. It was all a blur when you looked back on it now. A night of passion you'd never come close to experiencing before.

Quite honestly before that evening, you never imagined L to be capable of such romantic fervor. You imagined him as a much more distant lover. Similar to Light with the idea that his affection would be subtle. Different in that it wouldn't feel cold.

But for those hours, the word subtle hadn't crossed your mind once. Intense. Dedicated. All-consuming. Those seemed like more appropriate descriptors.

He'd been so good that you basically passed out next to him in the hotel bed afterwards. The two of you slept as if any of what had taken place was normal. Your limbs tangled with one another's while your dreams danced together overhead.

The next morning you came to slowly. You sat up and yawned, your hand lazily rubbing some of the sleep off your face. It took a few seconds of consciousness for panic to shoot through your body as you realized you needed to get up and go home.

Members of the task force would be there within the hour. You couldn't just be here before everyone else, wearing the same outfit as yesterday. It wouldn't take someone with Light's IQ to figure out what that meant.

You scrambled to put on your clothes and gather any belongings you'd need to make your re-arrival look fresh. L began to wake up from the sounds of your scuffling. He boosted himself up on the mattress and watched you for a moment. You'd never seen him so unfocused. It was beautiful in a way, his eyes lidded and tired, hazy with the remnants of a dream.

As quickly as you could without being rude, you explained what you were doing. To your pleasure, he didn't put up a fight. He helped you gather what you needed so you could go freshen up before coming back.

Before you left though, he brought you into a lingering kiss. He held your jaw tenderly and pulled away without any urgency, looking in your eyes while stroking your lip.

"I'll see you when you get back," he murmured.

And that was the beginning of many transgressions that shattered the illusion of 'just this once.'

You rushed home and hopped in the shower. The hot water washed away the rest of your drowsiness. The rising fog of steam enveloped you in warmth, bringing flashes of him back to your mind. How soft his dark locks had felt feathering against your neck. How tight his hands had gripped yours as he thrust into you. How sweet he'd sounded moaning in your ear.

Sighing, you leaned against the cool tile wall. You had to forget all that. It'd been nice, but it had to remain contained. Your work came first, and you would never hurt Light with the knowledge of any of that. It had happened and you didn't regret it. But it was over now.

At least that was what you told yourself.

On that day when you returned to the hotel in a new outfit, everything went as normal. There were no sly remarks from L. No tantalizing looks or teasing touches meant to operate under Light's nose. The both of you acted normal, went about your jobs and performed your duties as you're supposed to.

You weren't really sure what happened, but somewhere between then and now, your intentions to cut it off got muddled and faded away.

A few nights later, you had to stay late to review some aspects of the case with L. It started off professional but took no time to devolve. His fingers that had been so careful flipping through paperwork, eventually ended up beneath your skirt, toying with your clit as he had you continue to read off lines from the files before you.

After that, your entire relationship took on that tone. Your time together became filled with holding hands under the table, stolen kisses before others entered the room, and hushed moans as if one decibel too loud would result in you being found out.

But despite how good it all felt, you weren't heartless.

Every time you were alone with Light, the guilt crushed you. You began to act more like him, withdrawn and inattentive. If he noticed, he didn't complain, but that didn't alleviate your shame any.

You knew you had to end it with him. That was the only right way to go about this now.

And you planned to, you honestly did. You set a deadline in your head for when you would do it by. You stood in front of your mirror for nearly an hour, practicing what you were going to say. You imagined his reactions and tried to brace yourself in advance. 

Every last detail was penciled into place. You even told L about it beforehand. As if it were another task for your job, he offered support. His reaction and the way he went about giving you subtle comfort helped you feel like this was the right decision.

In a way, you still loved Light. You probably always would hold a sliver of affection for him. The forever fondness that comes with being your first love. But you were becoming increasingly certain that you loved L too.

The day you planned to cut Light loose, you woke up extra early. The lining of your stomach felt as though it was webbed with live wires. Anxiety coursed through you with every beat of your heart. You got ready for the day like you always did and then went about your routine as normal. You'd meet up with him at the hotel, and then you could do it afterwards when the two of you were alone.

But that day that you had so meticulously planned didn't end with the two of you in some secluded alcove in the lobby. You didn't get to explain anything. He didn't get to yell at you for betraying him or tell you to never speak to him again. None of that happened because instead, that day he came into the room, he didn't leave with you. He didn't go home afterwards.

He offered himself up for confinement. He ended the day in a cell before you ever got to tell him anything.

You sat near L with your head resting on your hands, glaring at the monitor with the image of Light on it. He was looking back at the camera. Even though there was no way for him to have known your plan, you felt like his coppery eyes gleamed with mockery.

L watched your expression, taking in your dire look. Only the two of you occupied the room right now. Everyone else had gone home for the night. He reached across the desk to take your hand. His thumb swiped over your knuckles tenderly.

You glanced at him in return. "Do you really think he could be Kira?" you asked weakly.

The answer you wanted wasn't so much to do with the exact question you asked. No matter how L explained it or whatever evidence he laid out, you could never bring yourself to fully commit to the idea that your boyfriend was this prolific serial killer. Instead, all you really needed in this moment was some reassurance that this stint in confinement wasn't for no reason.

He met your eyes, pausing before he spoke to consider his words.

"Yes. There's a chance he could be, one I'm partial to believe," he said, "But even if he isn't, that will show in time."

You nodded, pouting without realizing it and turning back to the screen. He was looking ahead now, not staring into your soul through the computer screen. You still felt stuck though.

You couldn't launch into a relationship with L now because Light was gone. The others were already pretty up in arms about Light and Mr. Yagami being held. It was doubtful that seeing you and L use the time as an opportunity for your own benefit would lessen those feelings any.

But on the other hand, you figured it would be cruel and unusual to dump Light through the speaker that blasted into his cell.

You sighed and shook your head, casting your vision over to the screen that featured Misa Amane. Your eyes briefly scanned her features. She was pretty; though, it was hard to tell with the large shield they had her face covered in.

"Do you think she's the second Kira?" you asked with disinterest.

He nodded, much more invested in the stakes of these two pieces of the puzzle than you were at the moment.

"Yes. It's just a matter of getting her to admit it," he said.

You nodded again, inclined to agree with him on that. You didn't know Misa all that well, having only crossed paths with her once or twice. From what you could tell, she had a huge crush on your boyfriend. He didn't seem to reciprocate it necessarily, but he did act strange on the few occasions she came up in conversation.

At certain points, you wondered if he was cheating on you with her, but you figured that was your mind projecting.

"We'll figure it out, darling," L said from beside you, drawing you back to reality with his soft tone, "We just have to be patient."

You turned your head to look at him. Some of the tension in your neck and back eased up as you gazed into his eyes. The sight of him sitting there, scrunched up like usual, softened your pessimistic outlook ever so slightly. He made you believe that you could endure all of this simply because he was worth it.

Leaning over the armrest of your office chair, you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. The images of Light and Misa glowed behind your heads as he furthered it, rolling your seat in his direction.

L had been right about one thing. The past couple months required intense patience.

Light's confinement stretched longer than you would have imagined. You predicted a month at most, and even then, you believed that was kind of a stretch. It shouldn't take that long to determine if he was Kira.

But the one month marker passed and it seemed there was still no end in sight.

You and L continued your affair, still in secret. It was odd having to hide when the main person you were shielding from your feelings sat in a cell under your surveillance twenty four hours a day.

Seeing him like that got to you some days. When he started begging and pleading to be set free, it killed you inside. You could barely stand to look at L when it happened. It felt like you were watching the version of Light you'd fallen in love with come back only to be put in agony. Your chest would ache as you watched the video feed, your lip between your teeth and your eyes brimming with a sheen of salty tears.

L understood as best he could. He had known when this all started that things with you wouldn't be so cut and dry. It still gnawed at him a bit to see you torn up, but he gave you space when you needed it and held you when you didn't.

Just as you were beginning to lose hope that this would ever end, the day came that L informed you he would be releasing Light.

A strange mixture of relief and dread flooded your mind. You hadn't gone this long without speaking to Light since the two of you met back when you were both missing your front teeth and taking notes in crayon. You'd be happy to see him free of course, and it was one step closer to untangling yourself from this twisted web you'd created. But the other part of you filled with uneasiness stemming from your guilt. That combined with the expectation that he wouldn't care one way or the other about being reunited with you.

But when the two of you met again in the new hotel, your predictions couldn't have been more wrong.

You reluctantly glanced up at him when you heard him enter the room. But it was when your eyes met that something felt different. Your racing thoughts came screeching to a halt, a head on collision of guilt and nostalgia.

He strode across the room, lacking the normal weight he seemed to constantly carry on his shoulders these days. You rose to your feet on impulse. His arms reached out, and you felt them wrapping around your body. He pulled you to his chest, holding you there as his nose brushed the crown of your head. He said your name against your scalp with more softness than you'd heard from him in months.

You returned the embrace. Your hands splayed across his back, feeling the lean muscles beneath his shirt. Before you knew what was happening, your eyes felt misty.

"I missed you," you choked out as a whisper, "I've missed you so much."

You'd been missing him longer than fifty days. The version of Light in your arms was the one you loved since you were old enough to really understand the concept. This was the one you thought you'd lost forever because of this investigation.

"I missed you too," he said in return. Even his voice sounded like it used to. He didn't speak with inherent disdain for your very being. The words came out with a soft lilt meant for a lover.

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I didn't do more to help you," you whimpered. The apology was meant for more than the crime you confessed to.

"It's alright. There was nothing you could do," he said, his hand rubbing the expanse between your shoulder blades.

You ran your fingers up his neck and threaded them in his sandy locks. Pulling back a few inches, you kissed his cheek a couple times. You felt the skin flush red with embarrassment, which brought a smile to your lips. He didn't scowl or push you off. He got flustered.

"I missed you a lot. Don't leave me like that again," you whispered, pulling him back in for one more tight hug.

Your heart ached with the knowledge that you had planned to break up with him soon. You didn't think you could go through with it anymore. Not when he was himself again. Your Light.

The two of you pulled away from each other, and then your eyes landed on L sitting on the couch. Either he was much more understanding than you ever thought possible for a human being, or he had a phenomenal poker face. He looked completely unaffected, faring much better than you would be if the roles were reversed.

In contrast to his unbothered appearance, your stomach turned. You felt more guilt building in the pit of your belly, each brick being laid there reminding you of the fact that you were a horrible person. It was the only truth you would accept about this situation. You were a horrible person whose selfishness had created this mess. Truly, the solution you probably needed was swearing off men. You should devote yourself solely to finding Kira because you didn't deserve anyone. Certainly not the two people in this room with you.

The two of them began to speak, but you could barely hear the words coming out. Each of them sat on one end of the orangey, vintage couch while you took your seat in the chair on the opposite side of the pale rug beneath you. All your mind could focus on were the questions swirling within. How could you have done this? How could you have been so self-centered and stupid?

Neither of them deserved this. They didn't deserve to be caught in the carnage of your emotional state. You should've broken up with Light when you fell for L, plain and simple. That would have been the cleanest exit strategy possible here. Now there was no clean option left. Anything you did was going to leave animosity and tension in its wake.

You didn't zone back into the conversation until the words that had been popping out every so often started to piece together. The arrangement they were planning began becoming clear to you.

"You're going to handcuff yourselves together?" you asked with disbelief.

They both took a break from conversing with each other to look at you. L nodded while Light verbalized an explanation.

"If this gets us closer to catching Kira, it will be worth it."

"But come on, do you really think this is necessary? Wasn't almost two months in confinement enough to prove your innocence? All this will do is drive each of you crazy," you argued. The part you left unsaid was that it would drive you crazy as well.

"I believe it's necessary," L told you, "I also believe it will increase our efficiency."

He stared into your eyes, trying to convince you without words. If he was anyone else, you would believe this was intentional. A strike to get back at you for your loving reunion with Light. But you didn't think L would do that. He'd never taint the integrity of his case with personal feelings, and he'd never hurt you like that. He'd never hurt you like you hurt him.

Before you know it, a long, silver chain with two shiny cuffs attached had been pulled out. Each of your lovers got one locked around his wrist. You glanced between them, your eyes following the links that connected them.

You had a bad feeling this would require even more patience than the last couple months did.

Though it wasn't his intention, L couldn't help but feel that this handcuff idea had turned into a punishment for him. His consequence for sleeping with a girl in a relationship, and then continuing the affair and allowing himself to grow attached.

When he came up with the plan, he thought he could handle it. He had put up with watching you and Light together for months when he believed his feelings were unrequited. But now that he had his own taste of you, it felt nearly unbearable.

Living in the task force building with the two of you and watching you lavish all your affection on Light felt like torture. Every stroke of the other man's soft hair from your loving fingers felt like a blade slicing his skin. Each kiss to his pale temple was a bullet piercing his own flesh. Every time he had to hear you speak to Light in a sappy tone of voice or pay him a compliment, he'd rather rip his own ear drums out.

It was brutal. He didn't even get the reprieve of your nights alone together anymore. Your contact with him had been reduced to emotional looks, double-edged words, or soft touches on the rare occasions that Light fell asleep first.

Those nights were few and far in between. The last time it had happened had been weeks ago. All of three of you had been watching a movie, some horror flick none of you had seen. You sat on the couch together, like this was a hang out and not a date. On the right side, Light leaned back into the cushions. L took up the left side while you were in the middle between them.

Light had you tucked to his side as the movie played in front of you three. It was a possessive gesture and that was obvious to L. The movie wasn't scary and you weren't cold. The other man wanted his relationship with you on display. If L was going to sit in on your dates, at least he would know he was the third wheel.

He tried to act casual about it, tried keeping his eyes solely on the screen showing the carved up victims of the film's killer. But he couldn't stop himself from noticing how you played with Light's fingers. You shuffled them between your own, bending his digits and stroking the smooth skin. You fidgeted with them thoughtlessly like it was the most natural thing in the world. And he realized for both of you, it probably was. He'd never felt so out of place.

The urge to get away from it coursed through him with such intensity that he considered popping his thumb out of place just to slip out of the cuffs and get some space. The air in here felt suffocating, weighing down heavier on him every second. He ran his hand through his sleek hair. This night couldn't be over soon enough.

It was about two-thirds of the way through the movie that he felt your hand on his instead. You inched across the cushions and looped your fingers over his. He turned to look at you and saw Light's head slumped over onto your shoulder.

Unease swirled in your eyes. You seemed almost apologetic, and that was confirmed when you spoke, keeping your voice quiet enough not to wake your sleeping boyfriend.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

He blinked at you. "For what?"

A little sigh puffed from between your lips. "For this," you said, "I'm sorry for dragging you into this and stringing you along and not just breaking things off one way or the other."

"I was hardly unwilling," he responded. His hand flipped over and returned the hold you had on him.

His words made you smile a little, but sorrow still riddled your features. "You know what I mean. I just... I don't wanna make you feel like I'm leading you on. I don't regret being with you. I still care about you. A lot," you said. The L word stayed on the tip of your tongue. You were too mixed up to expel it.

He shook his head. "Don't apologize," he commanded gently, "If I expected something easy, I wouldn't have let this go as far as it did. I'm just as much to blame."

"But still," you replied, unconvinced, "I know I should just end things or leave you alone. It's just that he finally seems to like me again, and I don't know. It's hard to throw that away."

Sadness pervaded your words, and he hated it. It made sense. The tangled knots between the three of you didn't leave much room to feel happy.

"If Light is what you need right now, then that's ok. You don't need to feel an obligation to me-"

"I don't!" you interjected, almost forgetting to keep your volume down, "I don't. It's not like that. I love Light, but you're important to me too. I don't feel like I owe you anything. I feel attached to you because you're special. You mean so much to me. You're not like anyone I've ever known."

You were killing him, truly. He didn't want to let you go, but he figured giving you a way out would be easier. You just wouldn't take it. He didn't really know what to say. It wasn't like he could just join you and Light... the other man would never go for that.

"I love you too," he whispered, saying the words you wanted to without mincing them, "But feeling so torn isn't good for you. And it's not fair to Light."

Internally, your heart soared from the soft declaration. It would've been one of the most romantic moments of your life if it wasn't for the fact that you had made it so messy. But you had, so all you could do was nod because you knew he was right.

"Figure out what exactly you want, what will make you happy, and what will be best for you," he finished.

He then leaned in and gave you the smallest, softest kiss you'd ever received. Despite its fleeting nature, it struck you like a truck crashing into your body. It was the first time you'd kissed him in weeks, a reminder of how good he felt.

You stared into his eyes once the two of you had separated, running the tip of your tongue over your upper lip. Your heart fluttered in your chest for him. Your breaths came in and out with a little more effort.

Then, interrupting the exchange between you two, Light snuck his other arm around your waist and pulled you closer to his body like you were a beloved stuffed animal. The sudden reminder of his presence nearly caused you to jump out of your skin.

You ripped your eyes away from L and settled back in next to your boyfriend. Cuddling him closer, one of your hands ran through his hair and ensured he didn't wake himself up by moving.

And just like that the moment was over. Things went back to how they had been every other second the three of you spent in this arrangement. But L had gotten his fill and it was enough to keep him going for a while more.

Over the next couple days, he watched the two of you more closely. Part of him did it for selfish reasons. He wanted to find more time he could have you to himself. More moments he could steal from Light. But there was another part of him that was purely curious. It was the part of him always looking for a logical solution.

Through his observations, it became increasingly obvious to him that Light wasn't happy about this handcuffing arrangement in regards to his time with you either. He just seemed able to tolerate it much better than L could. Probably because he was the one with the official claim on you. He didn't have to hide his feelings.

Light could openly sit with his arm around your shoulders or your ass parked on his lap. He was the one that could stroke your head or kiss your cheek. He got to call you 'sweetheart' and be the recipient of your bright smiles.

At first he didn't take advantage of any of those things too often, but lately, the detective had noticed an uptick in all of those behaviors. The others had caught onto it too and found his rejuvenated affection for you slightly odd, but they chalked it up to almost two months apart. Two months without any form of physical contact would drive anyone to feel needy. And L agreed with that for the most part, though like with everything else, he had some theories of his own.

He also believed that Light's increase in attentiveness towards you stemmed from jealousy beginning to fester inside him. Maybe jealousy wasn't exactly the right word, but his actions toward you weren't purely romantic. They felt like warnings sometimes, reminders that you belonged to him.

He didn't think you had told your boyfriend about your affair. It was doubtful that he would've just let that slide and carried on with things as if they were totally fine. And he didn't think he was catching on either. As much as it pained him, you had been so inconspicuous. If he was anyone but himself, he didn't think he would paint you as attracted to anyone other than Light.

There was only one real instance he could identify that would qualify as Light catching scent of the truth.

The three of you had been working on the case in the evening, sitting side by side at the table in the main room of HQ. Your bodies lined up in their normal arrangement, Light on one side, you in the middle, and L on the other.

Over the crown of your boyfriend's brown hair, sat the band on a pair of headphones. The audio of last week's news coverage droned in his ears. Meanwhile you worked on taking notes on dates of killings and potential patterns and connections between them. L was scribbling some points down about names of victims.

It had been small, and he'd barely noticed it. But when his eyes drifted to the left side of his page, he caught a little marking on the right edge of yours.

A small pair of dots with a curved line beneath stared up at him. The little smiley face gave him the look you couldn't, spoke the words he didn't hear from you anymore.

He ended up drawing his own tiny ":)" on his paper. It rested right next to yours, only separated by the thin space between the two sheets.

It only took you a minute or so to notice. He acted like he was focused on his work, but he subtly watched in his peripheral for the smile that spread across your lips.

Continuing the game, you brought your pen back to the sight of your doodle and drew a little tongue sticking out of the mouth. He laughed under his breath. Thoughts of adding onto his filled his brain, but before he could, the third person in the room interjected.

"Are you guys passing notes now?" Light asked before nudging the headphones off one of his ears, both visibly and audibly unamused.

Your head whipped to face him. "Sorry. I just got a little distracted," you explained. You leaned in and placated him with a kiss to his cheek. Then your attention returned to the task in front of you.

L continued to watch as the interaction played out. Before he could refocus his own intentions, he caught Light giving him a look. It was only for a few seconds, but the suspicion shot across the back of your shoulders directly into L's skull.

But as far as he knew, that had been it. Neither of you had talked about it in front of him, so unless you discussed it while he slept, Light must have just let it go.

So the only other option left that could explain this shift in his level of affection was natural possessiveness. Whether he was conscious of it or not, Light had to share you with someone else 24/7 now. The two of you were never alone anymore. Even if L stayed quiet, forgetting his presence entirely was not an easy task with the way he stared. Private conversations and truly intimate moments were a thing of the past in your shared life. He supposed that would grate on anyone.

He still wasn't decided on that line of reasoning though, so he filed it away with the rest of the ways Light had changed during his confinement. He could figure out the source later. For now, he just needed to focus on you.

Quite honestly, he couldn't believe he had let any of this happen. He found himself wishing that he stopped on that first night. That part of his mind yearned for some way to go back in time and tell you the kiss was unprofessional and leave the tension to fizzle out. Everything would be so much easier in the universe where that actually happened.

But then again, in that universe, that version of himself would never get to experience you, and he didn't envy that in the slightest. Even with all the drama and secrets and heartache, he didn't regret you at all. It was the mess he hated, not the person at the center of it. No matter how hopeless things between the two of you seemed, he found himself unable to let go. You could trample his heart as much as you wanted and drag it through countless fields of broken glass, but at the end of the day, he'd still be there waiting for you to pick him from the carnage.

He knew it was pathetic. Childish even, believing in some sort of modern fairytale with you. But being aware of those things didn't curtail his feelings any.

If anything, it made them worse. Not having you to himself like he did for the time Light was gone created a bitter taste in the back of his mouth. Acidic resentment ready to spew at any moment toward the man toting you around as his possession.

The worst it felt was when you two did try to have a private moment while he slept.

Normally, you spent the nights in your own room in the task force building, but on occasion, you'd fall asleep before you could retire to your own space. In those cases, you'd sleep pressed to Light's side on one of the two beds in his and L's shared bedroom.

That night when the jealousy burned so hot inside him it felt like it would bubble over, it was because he woke up to the sound of the chain rustling. It dangled across the space between the two twin mattresses, the links clanking against each other and the floor. The sounds weren't erratic but just noisy enough to pull him from the comforts of unconsciousness.

His mind stayed hazy at first, ready to be lured back under. But then he heard a soft moan. Light's voice tenderly bursting into the otherwise quiet space. Then came you shushing him.

"I'm only gonna keep going if you stay quiet," you whispered.

That brought L to his senses a little more. He had been facing away from the two of you, so he couldn't see what was going on exactly. He blinked away his sleepiness and tried to focus on deducing that though. 

From there, he could hear the rhythmic strokes of your hand. The wet sound of you spitting onto your palm. Light's grunts as he presumably bit his lip and kept his face against your neck.

"You're so good at that," he choked out while gritting his teeth.

A quiet giggle trickled from your lips, and a part of L died inside. It felt kind of stupid. He knew you and Light were intimate. But knowing and bearing witness were two separate things.

"You still have to be quiet. If you wake him up, I'm never doing this for you again. If you get hard in the middle of the night, you'll have to rely on your own hand," you teased before connecting your lips with his.

L lied in bed as the rest of that played out. The delicate smooches and creaks of the bed. Light's strained whines and labored breaths.

Even after you'd finished him off and the two of you fell asleep again, he rested on the bed, moving as much as a stone. His eyes stared at the wall while his limbs felt like cement. Thoughts tangled up in his mind. The feelings of betrayal and envy and disgust and longing all muddled together.

Humiliating as it was, none of them killed his need for you. If you came to him tomorrow and informed him you and Light had split, he'd be as ready to embrace you as he was a few hours ago.

The desperate yearning for you was a disease, but as of now, it wasn't terminal. He could still function, could still even coexist with the subject of his hatred. That's what he was doing right now as the three of you played Mario Kart on the Wii hooked up to the tv in their shared room.

You and Light were curled up in the corner of the couch again while L sat a few feet away on the floor with his back against the structure. His shoulders tilted side to side as he maneuvered the controller in his hands.

Three of the small split screens showed your chosen characters weaving through Coconut Mall. You had a shitty race so far, lagging behind in fifth place. Light was up ahead in first with Toad while L trailed close behind in third as Dry Bones.

You already resigned to losing given that it was the third lap and you didn't have any good power ups. After winning the last cup, that was fine with you. One of them could have this one. 

The two men on either side of you didn't share your nonchalance. Both were dead silent, completely focused on the tv screen. They zipped their cars through the virtual parking lot, dodging the mini obstacles in the way. Glancing over at his corner of the screen, you could see Light basically had it in the bag. But then L jammed his thumb down on one of the wiimote buttons.

A blue shell flew out of the little skeleton turtle's hand and zipped up ahead to Toad. It slammed down with all the pettiness L felt inside, and Dry Bones passed by, smug with success.

"Damn!" Light huffed, dropping the controller in his lap.

He glared at the screen as you finished up the race. You came in fourth place rather than fifth. The feeling of slight achievement wasn't long lived though. You could tell out of the corner of your eye that your boyfriend had just barely resisted the urge to fling the plastic remote towards the wall.

L turned his head to look up at the both of you. His gossamer lashes kissed his cheeks as he blinked a few times. You looked at him awkwardly, hoping he could say something to cut through the tension.

"You know, Light. If you used the mushroom in your inventory, you could've avoided the blue shell. There's a trick you can do with the timing, but also, you would've been over the finish line if you sped up so it wouldn't have mattered if it hit you anyw-"

Light's head snapped in his direction, his stare even more agitated than before. Your eyes flitted between them like a scolded puppy even though you weren't on the receiving end of the icy look. If there was one thing about Light you knew, it was that he hated being shown up. And even more, he loathed being corrected afterwards.

"What happened to you pretending like you're not even here?" he said with a tight jaw, "This is supposed to be time for me and my girlfriend. And last I checked, that isn't you."

L shrugged in response, not reciprocating the annoyance. "It was your girlfriend who asked me to play. Maybe you should have checked with her about that," he said coolly.

You cringed a little, hearing the subtle assertion in his voice. He said your girlfriend, but you could sense the challenge. The unspoken dare to Light to make that more apparent so he could prove otherwise. You really really didn't want that to happen though, so you interrupt the exchange with forced laughter.

"Guys, chill out. It's just Mario Kart. No need to get all upset," you said.

L took your advice and turned his eyes back towards the television. Coconut Mall was only the second track in the cup after all. There were two more to go.

You looked up at Light who was relaxing now too and sinking back into the plush cushions of the couch. He still hadn't picked up the blue wiimote in his lap, and you weren't confident he was going to in the next few seconds.

As a preemptive strike, you leaned in and kissed his cheek. "You don't have to play anymore if you don't want to, baby," you murmured.

Baby.

The word stabbed at L. He peered back at your shared corner of the couch.

"Don't be a sore loser, Light. You know you don't have to be good at everything," he taunted.

In an instant, your boyfriend's face morphed into his previous harsh expression. You grabbed the controller from his lap, preventing him from lobbing it at L before the thought to do so could form in his mind.

"I actually have a lot of other games. We could all just play something else. There's Wii Sports, Just Dance. I even have this one where you're like a detective, so maybe you guys would like that..." you chattered.

"Can we just watch a movie instead? Something that involves less input from him," Light responded with a pointed gaze in L's direction.

"Sure!" you chirped, all too eager for another distraction.

You hopped up from the sofa, nearly tripping over the chain that connected their wrists. Your feet got their balance though and narrowly avoided an embarrassing fall. Once stable, you headed over to the little binder of disks you'd brought to HQ when you all moved in here and rifled through it to find something that could please both men.

L chewed the inside of his cheek. He had nothing to really be irritated about in this moment, but this whole situation wore on him. As a result, he felt like being a little pushy.

"Your girlfriend was excited to play that game, wasn't she?" L asked, still keeping the facade of casualness, "We really have to stop because you're not winning?"

The way Light gritted his teeth was nearly audible. "She's the one who suggested we do something else," he defended, "If she still wanted to play, she would tell me. She doesn't need you speaking on her behalf."

"Yeah, really. It's no big deal. I can play later," you said, trying your best to smooth things out.

L's pupils lingered on you, assessing and judging. He knew you were trying to defuse the situation above all else. He understood the motivation, but that didn't mean he liked it. Why couldn't you let the fuse burn down to the blow up? The explosion that could set everything straight. Let it clear this mess and leave nothing but rubble that the two of you could rise from to be together.

As of now though, that was nothing more than a wild pipe dream. He let go of it. It was probably best for the case anyway.

You popped a DVD into the player before standing and prancing back to the sofa. Taking your seat, you slotted yourself right under Light's arm, pressed against his side. L scooted up onto the couch too but maintained the distance of a single cushion. It was weird sharing the space with the two of you, yet he figured it was better than staying on the floor and feeling like a kid being babysat by a negligent couple.

Only a few moments passed before the menu screen appeared. The cheesy looped music sounded for a couple seconds before you tapped the button to play your selection. It was some 90s movie. One that despite its star-studded cast, was still filled to the brim with atrocious acting.

All three of you were silent through the beginning even though none of you held much interest in the film. The plot panned out predictably; the characters fighting over petty qualms and falling in love at the drop of the hat while the end of the world decorated the background of their lives.

L let out a quiet sigh, a section of his dark tresses swaying with the force of his breath. The heel of his palm squished against his cheek while boredom swirled in his eyes and spread across his other features.

Meanwhile on your side of the couch, you remained relieved you'd avoided imminent catastrophe. Your head leaned against Light's shoulder while his fingers twirled absent-mindedly on your bicep. About forty-five minutes into the film, he turned and kissed your forehead.

You peeked up at him. The act would've been unusual for the Light you'd become accustomed to months ago, but for this updated version, it was fairly in line. You gave him a tiny smile and snuggled further into his side. Relaxation permeated the both of you as you sat there and watched the stupid movie in front of you. To you, it was the end of conflict. This acted as a time killer to fill the rest of the night before you could go to sleep.

But your boyfriend seemed to view the situation through a different lens.

His fingers continued to massage your upper arm in light ministrations. They were barely noticeable. So casual they almost felt inherent.

But that was only until they dragged upward to your neck and collar. The smooth pads of his fingertips trailed over the little bump of your clavicle. They dusted over you with the most gentle care you'd ever seen from the man holding you close. His digits traced with intention, with subtle desire. They delved downward and teased the top of your breasts, bringing heat creeping up from the pit of your belly into your cheeks.

Carefully, you readjusted your position, brushing him off in the most inadvertent way possible. In contrast to the way he pulled away from your hand all those months ago, this could truly appear to be accidental. It didn't matter though because it didn't deter him any.

His head ducked in, and he kissed the skin beneath your earlobe. He pulled you a little closer to his body, allowing you to feel the definition of his form. An involuntary shudder swept over you. You tried to fight it, but the provocative touches had an effect whether you wanted them to or not.

He moved his lips down, licking and nipping from your earlobe onto your throat. That was when you almost lost it, nearly letting a moan escape you. It would have been soft and quiet, but at any volume, it wasn't a sound you wanted getting out right now.

Your eyes fluttered. All his touches felt so good. Light knew your body. Even though he was a dick for most of the beginning of your relationship, he was still observant. He knew all the spots that made you melt. He knew the area below your pulse point caused you to squirm and whimper while grazing the divot in your hips made them buck as a chill overtook you.

He kept his kisses quiet. Not quiet enough for someone attempting to hide them, but to the point that he wasn't slobbering all over your neck.

Either way, L noticed what the two of you were up to. He felt jealousy taking root inside of him. Ugly, brutal, all-consuming envy. He hated it, didn't want it at all, but it still made itself known.

He kept his eyes locked on the screen. He could feel you two shifting around in your corner. He could hear your breath hitch like it did for him. He could see in his peripheral how Light held you, in the way he wished he could.

"Light, quit it," you whispered.

You really tried to keep this between you and him, but he kept going. One set of his fingers swept down over your curves and gripped the dip in your waist. They squeezed the soft flesh, keeping you close.

"Shhh," he hushed you before nipping at the sensitive skin of your throat, "Relax, baby. This is supposed to be a date, yeah?"

Suppressing a whimper in your throat, you nodded weakly. You decide to just let him mess around a little more. Maybe he could work out his frustration and then mellow out.

At first, you thought that worked. He eased his efforts, laying some tender pecks on your neck. His kisses hit your skin with alluring care. You felt lulled into a sense of security. Your body calmed itself and cooled the fires of arousal beginning to burn. But then his lips parted and his tongue snuck out, licking a stripe up your neck before his mouth engulfed the wet area.

Simultaneously, his hand coasted back up and landed on your breast. This time the touch wasn't teasing. He grabbed the mound of flesh with intention. He kneaded it with unmistakable desire. Heat blossomed between your legs like it would when the two of you were alone. But instead of sinking into that feeling and spreading your thighs for him, you squeaked and tried to sit up.

"Stop," you whined. You were still trying to keep quiet, but you had to raise your volume somewhat to be forceful.

You grabbed his hand on your chest and pushed it back down onto your stomach. Though all that did was give him the leverage to pull you onto his lap entirely. The chain connecting him to L rattled as your body scraped across it.

Finally, L turned his head and looked at the two of you straight on. He observed the way Light held you to his chest and continued ravishing your throat. His eyes scanned over the way you squirmed and tried shutting him down without making a scene. The thing that stood out the most though was Light's eyes staring back at him. They gleamed with self-satisfaction, smugness to a level that dared L to try something. The glow of the tv hit his copper irises in a way that made them look closer to a deep shade of red.

L swallowed hard, taking a few more moments to watch. He could see from your expression you were embarrassed but not entirely displeased with the affection. It felt like a swarm of insects tearing him apart from the inside, the knowledge you could still enjoy touches that came from someone else. He didn't think he had that ability anymore.

"She told you to stop," he cut in, bitterness dripping from each word.

Pulling his mouth away from your neck for a few moments, your boyfriend's attention zeroed in entirely on the other man in the room.

"And was she talking to you when she said it?" he asked pointedly.

A pause filled the gap in conversation after those words. Both men stared one another down, contemplating the next move in the verbal chess match. Light's arms remained firm around you. He didn't let you scoot back to the neutral position between the both of them.

"I thought you said we could do whatever we wanted in front of you. That we shouldn't pay you any mind. Act 'like you're not even here,'" Light continued.

"Maybe it's better that I am here if you don't know what the word 'stop' means," he fired back.

You finally found the courage to cut in after watching the two of them go back and forth.

"It's fine, Ryuzaki. We were just messing around. I'm sorry if we made you uncomfortable," you said, diplomatic as ever.

"It's not fine," he challenged you. For the first time ever, you saw L lose his cool. His eyes blazed with ire for both you and Light. He stood from the couch, maintaining his glare. "You never stand up to him and then wonder why he never changes!"

Your eyes widened at the outburst, but your expression quickly melted into that of an ashamed child. On the other hand, your boyfriend lost his sense of superiority and now just looked confused.

"What is he talking about?" he asked.

"I- It's not-" you started to stammer, but you're unsure of who to even address, let alone what to say.

L could see you were struggling. A small part of him felt some guilt for lashing out, but the whole of him knew he needed to. This game between the three of you had grown tiresome. All he did to help was stay quiet and give you the room to collect your thoughts.

Light didn't offer that courtesy though and spoke again. "What is he talking about? You wonder why I never change?" he echoed.

"It's not like that," you defended with urgency, "I don't wish you would change."

Disgust crept into L's eyes. Before, he'd always found your timidity endearing. It was like an extension of your intelligence. Modesty that you projected because you wrongfully believed you didn't fit in with everyone else.

Though this exposed the truth of that characteristic. It wasn't inherently precious or just some part of you that came from the desire not to hurt others.

Right now, it was cowardice.

"Maybe not anymore. His confinement must have changed you too," L said.

His words hollowed out your insides, leaving the cavern of your chest bare, spare the remaining shards of your heart. The room around you felt like a sinking ship. Everything you knew would soon be lost underwater.

"I haven't changed," you said, your initial defensiveness fizzling out, "You don't understand."

"My confinement?" Light repeated, ignoring your words to the other man, "Did something happen between you two while I was locked up?"

It was hard to keep up when accusations were flying at you from both sides.

"No! Just let me explain," you denied, "When you were gone, me and Ryuzaki got kind of close because there's no one else around here to really talk to, you know?"

"Talk," L choked out, "That's all we did, huh? Talk?"

"I didn't mean- I just... It's not-" you tried to continue. You could feel your throat closing up as your eyes began stinging with tears.

There was no way you were going to let yourself cry. Not when you knew you were so undisputedly in the wrong. It would probably just make this situation worse. The pain you caused wasn't hypothetical anymore, but there were still salvageable pieces of the shattered whole.

You took a deep breath before scooting off of Light's lap. His arms had long gone limp around your waist. Sitting between them on the sofa, you stared down at your thighs for a few moments. When you finally felt some semblance of courage, you brought your head back up.

Both of them were watching you in anticipation. L still had broken hearts gleaming in his eyes while angry confusion dominated Light's features.

"While you were in confinement, Ryuzaki and I..." you started softly. Even though trailing off left your crimes unspoken, you knew the implication was obvious to Light. You forced yourself to continue anyways, needing to take responsibility. "It started a little before that actually. We got close. And we did a lot more than talk."

You sucked in a shaky breath, conjuring the will to expel the next set of words.

"I was unfaithful. And I'm so sorry."

Your head hung in shame. The room fell silent, spare for the quiet dialogue coming from the characters on the television.

"You... you cheated?" Light finally sputtered, "You cheated on me?"

Turning your head, you looked at him before nodding. "I'm so sorry, Light. I know it sounds like a cliche, but I never meant to hurt either of you."

The words came out like a broken record as your eyes watered to the point of overflow. With stiff fingers, you brushed away the stray tear.

"Why?" he asked, his tone settling into anger.

"I felt alone. And you were so distant. And I didn't know how to talk to you. But I didn't even try," you explained. It felt cheap to try and provide an excuse.

"How the hell am I distant? We're with each other every single day!" he snapped.

"Yeah, but before... you were different before. You were so mean all the time!" you responded.

He didn't have anything to say back to that because part of him knew it was true. And as shitty as it felt trying to justify yourself, he still had never offered up a reason as to why that was. He left you to wonder what you had done even now that he acted like he actually wanted to be in a relationship with you.

"It just started as advice. That was it, I swear. He just offered to help me because he saw how I was feeling. Then it became something more, and I was wrong for letting it while we were still together. But then you went away and I couldn't do anything about it and we just got even closer. And I'm just so sorry," you whispered, "I don't expect you to forgive me."

L shifted back and forth on his feet before lowering himself onto the sofa again. He still said nothing. He just observed, waiting to see what Light would say next.

"Do you still... have feelings for him?" he asked, "Do you still love me?"

"Yeah, I still love you," you said and looked back up at him, "I know I did a shitty job of showing it, but I never wanted to lose you. I... I couldn't just let you go. We've always been each other's."

He diverted his focus when you whispered out your words of endearment for him. "You didn't answer both questions," he muttered.

Sighing, you paused. You mentally tried to decide how to answer. Speaking as if only you and Light were in the room would hurt L, but addressing him rather than your boyfriend probably wouldn't bode well for you either.

"What do you guys want me to say?" you whispered.

"Tell the truth. Be honest. Say what it is you want," L finally joined in.

"Say it instead of just taking it," Light added.

Even though their directions were clear, it still took a few moments to find the words you wanted to use.

"I want both of you," you answered, "I don't want to pick. I don't want to hurt either of you any more than I already have."

The room stayed quiet after your declaration. You could feel the weight of Light's stare, but L simply seemed resigned. Reaching out on both sides of yourself, you took their hands.

You wrapped your fingers around their palms. Your digits could feel the subtle differences in each appendage. Both were smooth and slender, though L's knuckles protruded more than Light's. Luckily, neither one of them made the move to pull away.

"I know it's stupid and childish and selfish, and you can call me all that stuff. Just please don't leave," you begged softly.

The lone tear from before was no longer a stray. More followed its path and trailed down the smooth curves of your cheeks.

After a few moments, you felt L's thumb begin to swipe back and forth over your knuckles. Always the more lenient of the two, he was already caving a little bit to the sight of you weeping.

"I can't leave," Light grumbled and raised his hand, reminding you of the binds that kept him here. 

He wasn't as swayed by your display of emotion. His jaw remained clenched with his eyes set in a harsh glare. You could hear the process of his thoughts piecing together in his head, you just couldn't decipher what exactly they were.

"So what?" he said when he finally spoke again, "I'm not good enough for you anymore. I have to share you with him?"

"No. You are good enough for me. That's not why," you reassured. Squeezing his hand, you continued, "You don't have to share. If you want to dump me, I would understand. I just... I can't just pretend me and Ryuzaki never happened."

Blinking at you, he took in each word and let it float through his mind. He mostly understood your point despite the murderous anger flowing through him in that moment. And on top of that, the small piece of him that knew the smart thing would be to break up with you was dominated by the larger part of his psyche that refused to let L win.

If he broke up with you, there was no doubt in his mind that L would accept you with ease. Why should he get to have that? Why should Light be the one who ended up alone in this situation? You were his first, and you still wanted him. You'd strayed for a moment, but your heart still belonged to him. He was sure that in time he could erase any remnants of your infidelity. He just had to be patient.

"What does Ryuzaki think?" he asked before looking at the other man, "He's been so quiet. Does he think we should have you choose? Does he want you all to himself?"

L returned his stare past you. "I said what I think. I want her to have what she wants," he replied.

"Don't give me that," Light sneered, "This isn't a case. There's nothing you have to put together before coming up with a conclusion. Do you still want her? Do you still want her even if she can't make up her mind and thinks she deserves you and me?"

You cringed at the wording of his questions but decided not to interject. Instead, you waited for L's response.

"Yes. I still want her. Even under those circumstances," he admitted.

The revelation made Light both smug and bitter. Knowing someone else coveted what was his felt good, but realizing that same person had some success obtaining it ate away at him. He wouldn't make that apparent though.

"I just think it would be easier if we worked on solving the case first," you added, "If I pick one way or the other, someone will end up hurt and that would only cut into our chances of catching Kira."

"So what do you suggest we do instead then?" Light asked, "Do we all pretend like everything is normal? That neither of us feel anything for you, and you don't feel for us?"

"No, Light-" you tried to defend, but he kept going.

"Or is it that you really want us to share? You wanna sleep between us at night? Want us both to tell you how proud we are when you do something good? Want both of our attention focused on you?" he mocked.

"No, I just think we should talk about it," you offered. You felt your cheeks starting to burn.

"Talk about what? What plan did you have in mind?" he carried on, grabbing your jaw and making you look into his eyes.

"I don't know..." you acquiesced.

From your other side, L hardened his gaze a bit. "She already apologized and offered to come up with a solution, Light. Don't just try making her feel worse," he warned.

"I'm not. I'm just trying to get some clarity on the situation," he said, "I just want to know what she means."

You didn't have an answer for him because in all honesty, you didn't really know what you meant. This wasn't a daydream. It wasn't realistic to expect both men to just magically forgive your betrayals. This wasn't a fantasy world in which their love for you would overpower all other negatives. But you didn't want to contend with a reality that wasn't that way, so you remained silent.

That didn't deter Light from coming after you some more though.

"Just say what you were thinking," he encouraged, "Is it that you want both of us to call you baby and pretty girl and all those other sweet names I know you like? Or maybe it's less innocent. Do you have a thing for two guys at once that you never told me about?"

The warmth of embarrassment flooded your face in full force. You could barely think with the hot air swirling around inside your skull.

"No, Light-" you asserted. But again, he keeps going.

"No? Maybe you like being watched then? I know you love almost being caught. But do you want someone actually watching you?" he taunted.

"Light, this isn't doing anything to-" L tried to intervene on your behalf. But your boyfriend didn't want to hear it.

"Do you wanna show Ryuzaki how you like to be touched? Or is it that you wanna show me what I'm missing out on now?" he asked.

"That's not why!" you said and yanked your hand away.

He laughed in response. He had no problem continuing to stare you down either.

"Maybe not entirely, but I know you. I know there's a small part of you that gets off on being caught." he accused.

And that was true. Having known you for so long, he knew what revved your engine. You'd told him all your dirty little secrets and darkest desires. Now that he was openly using them against you, you weren't sure how to refute him.

"Yeah, but this is more..." you said.

"I know it is, but you don't want it to be more right now, do you? That was your point. That we should save deeper discussion until after the case."

You nodded, hoping he would maybe ease up now.

But his grin only grew more severe. He mimicked your nod.

"Alright. I think I could come around to accept that idea," he told you, "I just need some more convincing. Maybe you and Ryuzaki could persuade me."

You eyed him nervously, wondering what exactly it was he planned on as methods of temptation. Turning your head, you found that L was just as lost as you.

"How?" you asked.

"Show me. Show me what I missed out on when I was off proving my innocence. Show me what you can't just throw away. Show me what was worth risking everything for," he commanded.

Your lips parted as the thunder of your heart pounding boomed through your ears. His request was pretty obvious, but you just couldn't believe it. It didn't sound like anything Light would have ever asked for. But then again, he probably would have marked cheating down as something you'd never do.

You moved your eyes to L in an attempt to gauge his reaction. He seemed just as stunned and uncertain as you though.

"C'mon. Don't act all shy now. I doubt you two had any problems when you were doing it behind my back," Light said.

"Light," you pleaded, your lip jutting out a bit.

"What?" he asked, colder than before.

"Are you sure you want us to... do that?" you checked.

"You're only going to hurt yourself more," L added.

"I don't need you speaking on my wellbeing," he said to the other man before redirecting to you, "I'm sure. I want to see what I'll be getting out of sharing you. So go ahead. I'm sure you've been missing him since I came back."

A pit formed in your stomach. Your vision shifted from one guy to the other. It was true that you'd missed L a lot as of late, but this was not how you'd envisioned your reunion at all. You didn't want to lose either of them though, and if this is how you went about that, then so be it.

"You want me to..."

"Kiss him," he directed.

A spasm overtook your heart, but you suppressed it with a deep breath. You then turned to L. He was right there, seemingly waiting for you to take that step. With one last look at Light, you refocused completely on him.

You scooted a little closer to his side of the couch and started to lean in.

"Are you sure?" he murmured before your arrival.

You only nodded in response before pressing your lips to his.

Your eyes fluttered shut and then so did his. You melted into the exchange with no real issue. You hadn't really kissed L in what felt like forever. Even under the awkward circumstances, you wouldn't let a chance to have him like this slip through your fingers.

He cupped one of your cheeks with his hand, the other slid around your waist. His lips moved in tandem with yours. In no time, your mouths found a perfect rhythm to share. He guided you into his lap now, situating you between his thighs.

Your quiet moan spilled into the air. You ran your hands up his chest, fingers caressing his lean figure through his clothing. His hand on your back squeezed your flesh and pulled you closer.

"She has a spot on her back that makes her go crazy," Light offered from the sidelines.

"I know," L said back before locking you into another kiss.

You glanced over at Light with shyness clouding your eyes. He had leaned back into the corner of the couch and openly watched you make out with L. His legs were spread while his arms draped over the backing and arm rest.

Butterflies erupted in a constant stream in your belly. Being observed by one while being kissed by the other felt like nothing you'd ever experienced before.

If L minded as much as you, he didn't show it. He kept himself focused entirely on kissing you. His tongue traced the seam of your lips before sliding into your mouth and dancing with your own. The hand that had been massaging your back moved to grope your hips.

You whimpered for him before leaning into his body more. He took your eagerness for him in stride and cradled you in the perfect position to make out.

For a while, it felt just like before. Like it was just you and him. You wrapped your arms over his shoulders and reciprocated his movements like it was the most natural thing in the world.

After a while of kissing, his right set of fingers trailed down your body. They delved beneath the waistband of your sweatpants, finding their place between your thighs. Over your panties, they stroked your cunt. The sudden burst of stimulation made you gasp against his lips.

With another little whine, you parted your legs a few inches for him. His digits took advantage and worked with more skill to stroke your clit and tease your slit.

"Is this how it started?" Light asked, reminding you of his presence again.

Reluctantly, you pulled away from L and turned to look at him. With droopy eyes and puffy lips, you tried to register the question.

"Kinda," you mumbled.

Even though you were talking, L didn't stop petting your pussy. He only seemed more dedicated to the task. He hooked his chin over your shoulder and laid some kisses along your jawline.

More little noises of pleasure seeped out of you, but Light continued with his questions.

"Kind of? Did you just kiss the first time? Or did you let him touch you like this too? Maybe even more?" Light mocked.

"I didn't-" you started to defend, but L nipped at your throat, making you stutter. You whined before continuing, "It was just different."

"I'm sure," Light mocked.

You wanted to argue more, but L tugged the damp cloth of your underwear aside and slotted his fingers against your folds. He swirled them around your little bundle of nerves as his mouth worked on your neck. You arched your back, pressing your ass against his thigh.

"No more lying," he whispered near your ear, "Be honest about how good I make you feel."

Your eyes fluttered at the command while his fingertips continued toying with the most sensitive part of you. They rubbed a little more before sliding down and dipping into your entrance.

"It feels so good," you whimpered, sinking further into his embrace.

"That's right," he purred.

His fingers worked into your dripping hole with ease. He pumped two in and out, stroking your inner walls as they scissored inside you.

From the other end of the sofa, Light watched the outline of L's hand move beneath your pants. He studied the way your head fell back and how your shoulders relaxed. It was like being able to watch your shared intimate moments from another perspective. Anger and betrayal still brewed inside him, but they were becoming less volatile with every little squeak you made.

"I missed feeling this perfect pussy. So soft and wet for me," L whispered. He nosed at your neck for a moment before licking up to your earlobe.

You shuddered in response. "I missed you more," you breathed.

Your hips bucked against his wrist when his fingers curled within and brushed up against a sweet spot. You mewled without any regard for volume. The sensations he brought you were your only concern.

Light bit the inside of his bottom lip. His breathing became a little heavier. He had never been with anyone but you. And you'd never been with anyone but him until L. Seeing someone else explore you like this made him feel something he couldn't articulate.

While watching, he imagined a few months ago when your relationship wasn't in the best place. He envisioned the days his words left you with tears in your eyes and a broken heart thumping between your ribs. Those were the days that brought you to L. He tried picturing it now, you after work, finding comfort in the other man. Finding refuge from the one who was supposed to love you more than anyone in this world.

But Light did love you. Even after all of this, he was sure of it. And more than that, he still believed he was the best person for you. He'd known you forever after all. Longer than anyone else in his life or yours besides parents. When he looked at you these days, sometimes he still saw the girl who used to write her initials on the tips of his sneakers during recess. You'd get the same look in your eyes working on the case now that you used to get filling out study guides in school. When you laughed, it rang out the same, and when you cried, your lip quivered like it did the time you skinned your knee on the way to his house. 

He couldn't forget any of that even if this did hurt him worse than anything else he'd ever felt before, and he wouldn't let this thing with L take you away from him. He'd just have to hold out until you all caught Kira, and the two of you could move on.

The only thing he felt a little alarmed by right now was that holding out didn't seem like such a chore any more. Despite his pain, he couldn't deny the way his cock was filling out in his pants as he watched you get felt up and pleasured by someone else.

"My turn," he mumbled as he forced himself to return to his senses, "I want a turn with her before we share."

You blinked yourself back to reality as you felt his voice wedging between you and L. The man who'd been kneading your breasts while fingering you reluctantly pulled his digits out of your cunt and then removed his hand from your sweatpants. He gave you a few more gentle pecks to your throat before giving you a nudge back to your boyfriend.

Crawling towards Light, you didn't make it all the way there before his arms came out and dragged you close. His lips crashed against yours in an instant. Your noses bumped and his hands squeezed you tight. Despite the haste of it all, you had no problem matching his movements. You knew Light's body as well as you knew your own.

Your hand slid up into his hair, giving it a soft tug in the way you knew he liked. He moaned against your lips and kissed harder. Everything he was doing felt familiar, just at an increased volume.

"You're still mine," he whispered against your lips before making out with you in full again. He didn't give you a chance to respond before his mouth was back on yours.

You whined into the kisses, sinking into the cushions below you as he laid you out across them. His lips worked down over your neck in a similar pattern to L. He worked on marking the side of your throat the other man hadn't touched while his hands roamed your torso.

Squirming a little beneath him, your head tilted back against the couch, and you found yourself looking up at L. When your eyes met, his hand came out and stroked your cheek. He swiped his thumb back and forth over the curve of it.

"Can't have you forgetting about me," Light muttered between pecks to your neck.

"I didn't," you breathed. You wrapped your legs around his waist and tightened them.

He hummed in acknowledgement before rolling his hips against you, allowing you to feel his bulge grind between your thighs.

"Since you want us both, I'm gonna let you have us both," he whispered.

You turned your head and kissed along his cheek and temple. It didn't feel right saying 'thank you' to something like that, so you could only hope your touches would fill their place.

"Go sit in his lap. With your back against his chest," he commanded.

He then pulled off of you and allowed you to get up. Slowly, you rose off of your back and scooted in L's direction. He was ready to take you into his arms again. He positioned himself against the armrest of the couch and sat you on his lap like Light wanted. You could feel his stiff length poking against your ass as you did.

Once you were in place, Light leaned forward again and hooked his index fingers over the waistband of your pants. He pulled them down with your panties, leaving you exposed on top of L.

"Spread your legs, baby. I wanna see if you're ready," he said softly.

You obeyed and opened your thighs for him. L's hands dipped in and stroked the smooth skin on your inner legs, causing your cheeks to fill with heat again. Even though both men had seen you naked and felt every part of your body before, both of them doing it together was different.

Light's eyes trailed down your figure before landing on your center. They stared at the wetness gathered there, trying to judge if you could take them.

"Who knew you were so greedy? Almost soaked through your panties at the thought of two cocks at the same time," he mocked.

"At the same time?" you repeated. You knew you asked to be shared, but you didn't think he'd take it so literally.

"Mhm. You want us both, don't you? How else did you think this would work?" he smirked.

"I don't know. I thought you guys would like take turns or be on different sides or something..." you explained.

"No. If you want both, you're gonna really take both," he responded.

Shaking his head, he stood up and pulled his shirt off. L did the same behind you, letting it fall to the flood next to the couch. From there, Light unbuttoned his pants and let them crumple to the floor. He didn't show any awkwardness about revealing his body in front of another guy.

"Do you want your shirt off?" L asked, kissing the space behind your ear.

You nodded, and the both of you peeled it off your upper body before discarding it with his.

Light palmed himself over his boxers before sliding those down as well and letting his dick spring free. He gave his shaft a few lazy strokes while gazing at you. Below your body, L worked on pushing his jeans off and freeing himself from the confines of his pants.

"Think I'll let Ryuzaki have you first, and then I'll slide in too. I wanna see if you take him like you take me," he said.

L's dark eyes stared up at the other man. He didn't want to take orders from him, but then again, he couldn't really complain about the sentiment.

"Are you good with that?" Light asked, cocking his head while looking down at the man behind you.

"Why wouldn't I be?" he responded.

His arm wrapped around your waist, reaching down between your legs to rub at your clit a few more times.

"Are you ready, sweetheart?" he murmured to you in a much softer tone.

With nervous eyes, you nodded. You pressed your lips to his for a few more soft kisses. While you were occupied, he took the chance to adjust his position and line himself up between your legs. You felt the swollen head brush your entrance. The tip slid up through your folds, feeling your wetness before dragging back down.

Your heart pounded in your chest. This was really going to happen.

And then it did. He boosted his hips the slightest bit and popped it in. You whined as your walls fluttered, embracing his familiar length with ease.

He grunted and pushed forward. Slowly, his shaft entered you, sliding forward until he bottomed out. You let your head fall back onto his shoulder where you could nuzzle into his neck. His hands swept up over your curves and kneaded your malleable flesh.

Light watched from the same position, stroking himself as he watched someone else have you in a way he thought would forever only be for him.

"Does that feel good?" he breathed, "Does he know how to do it right? Just how you like it?"

A soft whimper puffed from your lips before you gave him a shy nod. L did know all the things you liked by now. He knew the perfect angle to rock his hips at and what speed you preferred. He knew how to make your mind melt out your ears by suckling on your pulse point. He knew all the dirty things to whisper in your ear that made you tighten up on him like a vise.

Light continued to observe. His eyes scanned over how L's hips began pumping into you. How his hands cradled your legs behind the knees. He listened for every wet squelch his cock brought out of you. Every hitched breath and whiny crack in your voice.

His length throbbed at the sight. It was the most fucked-up, perverse sense of pleasure he'd ever felt. It made him sick with lust. His hands trembled with the urge to reach out and interrupt, but he made himself wait.

He let L have a little more time with you. The other man sighed, nestling his face in the crook of your neck as he enjoyed the hot, tight euphoria wrapped around his cock.

Your eyes had fluttered shut after a few good nudges to your sweet spot. You lay against his chest, held up by his arms, totally pliable. Though even in your hazy state, you could feel Light's eyes bearing down on you, examining your every move.

But despite feeling his presence, it still sent a shockwave through you when he brushed the tip of his cock against your clit.

Your back arched off of the man beneath you as a sharp whine burst from your mouth. Smearing his sticky precum over your pulsing bud, he dragged the flushed end of his length back and forth. He moved at a slower pace than L. His movements only intended to tease you, not cause any true pleasure.

"L-Light," you moaned. You squirmed your hips, trying to entice him into giving you more.

His lips curled into a small smirk. "Hold still, babe," he chided, "I know patience isn't your strong suit, but you can wait a little more."

Whining again, you gyrated your hips a few more times. L groaned at the added stimulation; the motions worked your walls around him just right. He rutted up into you with more force, which only drew more noises from you.

Light took a deep breath, working himself up. He reached forward and grabbed your calves with precise fingers. His touch was gentle but calculated like it always was. Even in what was supposed to be the heat of passion, he made sure things played out according to his plans.

One of his hands dropped to guide his cock down to your entrance. A quiet moan escaped him as L's shaft brushed his sensitive ridge. He shuddered, but he didn't back away. He pushed with more intention and watched as you started to split open around him too.

A gasp tore through you. Your pussy burned as it struggled to take both of them. You writhed desperately, trying to find a position of reprieve. L came to a stop inside you and adjusted to hold onto your hips to keep you in place.

"Shhh, you're doing so good," he cooed while his digits rubbed small circles into your skin, "You can take it."

Light's jaw clenched as he ground his teeth. His breaths became more labored as he worked himself in all the way. It was so fucking tight. The feeling of L's dick pressed up against his own was also something he'd never felt before, but something he found himself really really liking.

"You wanted us to share," he grunted, "This is how it feels."

After a few moments, you started to settle again. Four sets of fingers coasted across your body, leaving little chills in their wake. The stretch between your thighs still stung, but pleasure began overriding it as L started moving again.

He thrust a few times, letting you get used to the sensation again. Then Light worked his hips back and forth. Your toes curled, and your breaths puffed out with broken whines in between.

Both of them found a rhythm that worked in tandem with the other. Grunts, groans, and sighs echoed all around you. Every inch of your body was in contact with one of them. Your head spun from the total overstimulation along with the ecstasy burning in the pit of your belly.

"Fuck... so much... feels like so much..." you babbled.

"Yeah? A little whore like you was made for it though," Light mocked.

Your eyes rolled back and you gushed around him. The words shot through with flaring sparks of bliss. In the past, Light could get a little bold with you sometimes, but never like that. He could see the effect his tone had on you, but he didn't make any move to lessen it. He only fucked into you harder.

"You're so pretty," L added from behind your ear, "You're being such a good girl for us."

With Light now holding your legs, he moved his hands to toy with your breasts again. He pinches and tweaks your nipples, getting you to recreate those cute little squirms from before.

"So fucking needy," Light taunted, "Can't even hold still."

"It's not my fault," you pouted.

L chuckled and kissed your ear, continuing to play with the tender nubs on your chest.

"It's alright, sweetheart. Feels good when you move like that," he soothed.

Another whiny sound of need flowed from your lips before you melted back against the man behind you. Coherent thoughts could no longer form in your head. Not when you felt so full. So fucking stretched to the limit.

Light could see you fading. He pumped himself in harder, his balls swinging and brushing against the base of L's cock. His rich eyes watched the man below you. He took in his slight changes in expression when you clamped around them. He noted how his eyes softened when you let out a little squeak.

After a few moments of his staring, L finally looked up at Light. He could tell he had something to say from the intensity in his gaze

"I thought you said we were friends," Light grunted, "Do friends fuck their friend's girlfriend behind his back?"

"I didn't lie. If I didn't consider you my friend, I wouldn't have hesitated to take her all for myself," L answered, calm in spite of the situation.

Your boyfriend's glare hardened, but a fire burned within him. He wasn't sure what it was. The carelessness? The challenge? He couldn't pinpoint it, yet something about what L said worked him closer to the edge. He felt the coils of release constricting within him.

 His focus shifted to you. He saw the way your head bobbled around as though you weren't even conscious. Reaching out, he grabbed your face. Your cheeks squished under the pressure of his fingertips, and your glossy eyes opened again.

"Sluts don't get to pass out, baby. Keep those pretty eyes open. Want you looking at me when you lose it," he said.

"Sorry..." you hummed as you came back to reality.

L's hands hadn't stopped groping at your tits. After Light finished talking, he swooped in with his gentler voice.

"Are you getting close? You gonna cum all over both of us?"

You mewled and nodded, harsh breaths leaving you. Seeing how eager you are, Light's hand released your jaw and found your cunt instead. His fingers roughly rubbed at your clit, ripping more cries out of you. He spit down onto your already soaked folds.

"Let go then," he directed, "Cum for us. Let's see you finish."

His commanding words struck you and spurred you onward towards the finish line. Your hips bucked as your body quivered with the need to explode.

You finally found release when both of them thrust in unison, striking the right spots to throw you over the edge. Your body rolled with the waves of pleasure crashing over you. You could feel their hands still on you. Their palms rubbed while their fingers caressed and teased you through it. Both of their breathing became stilted as you squeezed around them impossibly tight.

L was the first to let go and allow himself to ride out the high with you. He spilled himself inside you with a few jerks of his hips and a whine erupting from his mouth. Burying his face against your throat, his arms encircled you tight.

Light kept thrusting, working you both through it. He hit his own high as you both began to come down from yours. A strangled groan fell from his lips. He tilted his head back before leaning forward and collapsing into your chest. His hips rutted forward, pumping the last of his spend into you.

It was a little difficult with Light's added weight on top of you, but L managed to wriggle his hips and pull himself out. As soon as his length popped out, you felt the stinging subside almost instantly. A dull ache replaced it. You didn't imagine walking anywhere far for at least the next twenty-four hours. Their shared loads leaked from you, seeping out around your boyfriend's softening length.

L was the most lucid of the three of you. With care, he shifted his position and held you against his chest from the side. Light still lied with his head over your pounding heart. Eventually, he eased his cock out of you. He didn't worry about the mess right now. You all could clean up in a little bit.

He turned his head to look up at you. His eyes met yours, and for the first time since he found out, he looked more hurt than anything else. You studied the expression before stroking his cheek and planting a tender peck on his lips.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

He didn't say anything back. Instead, he closed the centimeter gap again and kissed you once more. The few seconds your lips were connected could feel like none of this mess was real. When your skin was on his, it was just you and him.

Your fingers threaded into his soft hair as L's digits rubbed your back. He sighed at the gentle touch, allowing himself to enjoy it for a few moments before he rose and leaned back.

Rubbing a hand over his face, he looked at the two of you.

"So... you really want to try and just... do this? Until we find Kira?" he asked.

"If it's ok with you..." you replied. You half expected him to laugh in your face before walking out. But he doesn't do anything so bitter.

He nodded. Worse than anything else, you could see on his face he really did intend on trying. He was going to try his hardest at this for you.

You reached forward and took his hand, guiding him closer to you again. "We can figure it out as we go. And then when we're done, we can all decide what to do together," you offered. You glanced up at L to make sure he was ok with that too, but the quick nod he gave you told you he was.

"Alright," Light agreed.

As a seal, you gave them each a soft kiss before smiling a little. Once you began to settle back in and grabbed the remote to change what played on the tv, both men's eyes found each other's in a silent, temporary truce.

Then Light looked to you again.

"Maybe you'd wanna play that game again?" he suggested, trying not to seem too soft about it.

Your eyes lit up, and you straightened out a little. "That would be so fun. Maybe you guys will be more relaxed about it this time," you teased.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head but didn't protest too much.

"You could try out that thing I told you with the shell. Maybe you'll win this time around," L added to Light as you got up to fix your clothes and start up the game.

"Maybe. You can't finish first every time, you know," he responded.

They both settled back into the couch after readjusting their own clothing. The familiar music started up on the tv as you handed them both controllers. Even though the situation between the three of you wasn't completely resolved, for the first time in months, you didn't feel the weight of secrecy across your shoulders.

[reality-detective]

Greg Reese Report 👇

We would not be doing justice to our own truth-seeking journey, if we failed to address the massive concerns that some of Trump’s administrator picks have stirred.

It all revolves around the Zionist agenda and whether it will indeed be, America first, as promised, or Israel first, as per usual. This has always been a main worry and given Trump’s choices, it’s something we can’t ignore.

At face value, it seems evident that many of the appointees are clearly Israeli assets, well funded by AIPAC, so ladies and gentlemen, seemingly, we’re screwed! New faces, same puppet masters!

Without totally discarding the ‘we’re screwed’ scenario, there is however, a possibility, let’s call it a ‘glass-half-full’ perspective, a sliver of hope, that maybe, just maybe, there is a strategic reason why Trump has chosen so many AIPAC puppets.

Perhaps Trump is the brilliant 4D Chess player some people claim him to be? Let’s hope so… 🙏🏻

Let’s look at hard core Zionist Marcos Rubio for instance; nobody is happy with him heading the US State Department, (unless you are a Zionist of course), so why did Trump choose him?

Two options: 1. Trump thinks Rubio is great and they are both rabid Zionists or 2. Trump thinks Rubio is awful and this is the easiest (and only) way to get him to resign from his Senate position!

Getting senators expelled is extremely difficult. Only 15 senators have been expelled in the nation's history, and the last one was in 1862.

So could this be an example of Trump playing 4D chess? Or am I high on hopium? I don’t know. Might there be other strategic reasons for some of the other AIPAC-controlled hires? Is he keeping his friends close and his enemies closer? Who knows!

Anyone that has gone down the Kennedy assassination rabbit hole, knows who was really behind it, you think RFK Jr doesn’t know?

I think I’ll start reading Sun Tzu’s ‘Art of War’, I think I might find answers to this conundrum in there…

ln the meantime, we’re just going to have to wait and see… But for now, let’s celebrate RFK Jr’s appointment as head of HHS. I have a feeling he will not only make America Healthy Again, but through example, he could end up making the rest of the world, healthy again too and that’s definitely something to celebrate! 🤔

[graciegoeskrazy]

The birthday party

(Matty Healy + teen!daughter!r)

warnings: angst (we’re back!), shitty dad Matty for a min, uncle George yay, yelling, just sad, reader is turning 13

a/n: what other title did you think I would choose bffr

You had been talking about it for months. There was no way he could forget. Right? He’s your dad. The only parent you’ve ever had. It’s always been just the two of you, side by side through everything. He knows you better than anyone else in the world. So why was this nagging doubt creeping into your mind this morning?

He always made it a big deal. A special breakfast, a couple of thoughtful presents to kick off the day—but this time, there was nothing. No sounds of sizzling bacon, no smell of pancakes. Just silence. You searched every corner of the house—his bedroom, the bathroom, the kitchen, even the backyard and guest room—but he was nowhere to be found. It wasn’t until you glanced outside that you noticed his car was missing. A knot tightened in your stomach as you reached for your phone and sent him a text, hoping for an explanation that would ease the growing sense of disappointment.

y/n | where r u???

dad | studio. y?

At first, you convinced yourself he was playing one of his usual tricks. It was exactly the kind of thing your dad would do. Let you sweat a little, only to jump out from somewhere unexpected with a goofy grin and a surprise waiting behind his back. You smiled at the thought, almost hearing his laughter in your head. That had to be it. It was all part of some elaborate birthday prank.

You didn’t reply to his text at first. The message sat unread on your phone, the screen dimming after a few seconds, like it wasn’t important. You brushed it off, continued getting ready, telling yourself this was just part of the game. The anticipation kept you going—maybe he’d burst through the door any minute with balloons and confetti, trying to catch you off guard. You could already picture his laugh, the way he’d raise his eyebrows like, ‘Gotcha!’

But with each passing minute, doubt began to creep in. You found yourself staring at the phone longer than you'd like to admit, uncertain how to respond. A part of you wanted to play along, to convince yourself it was all just a joke. But there was another, quieter part of you—a part that you didn’t want to acknowledge—that began to whisper the truth you were trying to ignore.

There was no prank, no surprise waiting for you. The sinking feeling in your stomach told you what you didn’t want to admit. He forgot your birthday. And no matter how much you tried to pretend otherwise, that truth weighed heavier with each moment of silence.

…

School had always been your escape, a place where you could drown out everything else by burying yourself in classwork and conversation. Today was no different. You told yourself if you kept busy enough, the hurt gnawing at you would fade into the background. It almost worked, until your friends surprised you at lunch.

They gathered around with smiles, handing you a cupcake, complete with a crooked candle, and a small gift they’d all chipped in on. You forced a smile, doing your best to swallow the lump in your throat. You weren’t about to ruin the moment for them. But your best friend wasn’t fooled for a second.

“So… you gonna tell me what’s really going on?” she asked, snapping you out of your daze.

You looked up quickly, startled. “What? What do you mean?” you replied, plastering on a grin. But it was thin, stretched too tight, and you knew she could see right through it.

She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You walked into school looking like you just got hit by a car. You’ve been staring at your phone every five seconds, and I can tell you’re about two seconds away from crying. So, what’s up?”

The act fell apart. You swallowed hard and stared down at the half-eaten cupcake, your voice barely above a whisper. “He forgot my birthday.”

She tilted her head, confused for a moment. “Who did?”

You met her eyes, feeling a wave of shame and frustration crash over you. “My dad. He… he forgot my birthday.”

Her face fell. The disbelief in her eyes was instant, but not entirely surprising. “What?! No way,” she blurted, shaking her head.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, the desire to move on from the topic growing stronger by the second. “It’s fine. It’s not that big of a deal—”

“It’s a huge deal, Y/n! He’s your dad!” She almost shouted, her voice filled with a mix of outrage and disbelief.

You mumbled, but the bitterness in your voice was unmistakable. “Yeah, well… he hasn’t really been acting like one lately.”

Her face softened instantly, guilt flashing in her eyes for snapping at you. She leaned in, her tone gentler now. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck, trying to figure out the words. “I dunno, maybe he’s just busy or dealing with his own stuff. It’s not a big deal—”

“But?” she pushed, refusing to let you brush it aside.

You hesitated before continuing. “It’s like he’s… here, but he’s not here, you know? He’s around, but we don’t talk anymore. We don’t even see each other, really. It’s like he’s some random roommate I found online. I only see him when we happen to cross paths, maybe at dinner or when I’m heading out, but even then, it’s like I’m invisible. He doesn’t even acknowledge me.”

Your friend’s face fell, and she reached out, resting her hand on yours. “That’s not right, love. You know that, don’t you?” Her voice was quiet but firm. “Maybe you should talk to him. Tell him how you’re feeling.”

You sighed heavily, feeling the weight of her suggestion. “Yeah, maybe,” you muttered, but deep down, you wondered if he’d even listen.

…

Adam found Matty slouched in a corner, next to the coffee machine and a spread of half-eaten snacks, aimlessly scrolling through his phone. The exhaustion was evident in the dark circles under his eyes. Honestly, all he wanted to do was be home, sitting on the couch with you, watching some mindless TV, shutting the world out for a few hours. But there was still work to be done. The faster he finished this album and sent it off, the sooner he could finally focus on what mattered most—you.

“I’m surprised you’re even here,” Adam said, breaking the silence as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

Matty didn’t bother looking up from his phone. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Adam gave him a sideways glance. “I just figured you’d be with Y/n.”

Matty frowned. “Why?”

Adam shifted, uneasy, and took a sip of coffee. “Well, you know... thirteen is kind of a big deal.”

Thirteen. The number didn’t seem to register for Matty right away. Adam watched as the realization crept over Matty’s face like a slow, chilling wave.

“What do you—” Matty’s voice faltered, and then he froze. He stared blankly at Adam, piecing it together. The sinking dread filled the room. Adam could tell from the way Matty’s expression darkened that he had forgotten.

“Don’t tell me...” Adam muttered, but it was too late.

Matty bolted upright, shoving his phone into his pocket and grabbing his bag without a word. The room seemed to spin around him as he stormed out, not bothering to explain himself to the others. He needed to get to you. Now. 

As he sped through the streets, his mind raced. How could he have forgotten? You, his world, his everything. The one person who had completely shifted the course of his life thirteen years ago, making him into something more than just himself. He had thought about stopping somewhere—buying a cake, maybe some balloons—but the clock was ticking, and every second felt like another failure. He couldn’t waste any more time.

Guilt tightened in his chest with every mile he drove. You deserved more than a last-minute apology and a quick fix. You deserved his time, his presence, his love—especially on a day that should have been about you.

But now he was on his way, and he didn’t know how to make it up to you. He just hoped he wasn’t too late.

………. 

You were curled up on the couch, sinking deeper into the cushions, letting the sweetness of the cupcakes numb the ache inside. Your friend had baked them for you—her attempt to make the day a little less unbearable—and you didn’t care about the calories or the mess you were making as frosting smeared across your fingers. It was a brief distraction from the disappointment gnawing at your chest.

Then you heard it—the keys jingling in the lock, the door creaking open. Your heart tightened. Without a second thought, you reached for the remote and turned off the TV.

“Y/n!” Your dad’s voice echoed down the hallway as he rushed in, breathless, his footsteps quick, desperate. He froze when he spotted you on the couch, eyes widening as if the sight of you caught him off guard.

“I’m sorry,” he started, his voice cracking, “I’m so s—”

He stopped mid-sentence as you stood, the movement sharp and deliberate. You clenched your jaw, refusing to meet his gaze as you gathered the crumpled cupcake wrappers and empty water bottles scattered around you. The silence between you thickened, heavy with everything unsaid.

You walked to the trash bin, each step deliberate, your frustration palpable in the way your shoulders tensed. His eyes followed you, pleading, but you refused to acknowledge him.

“Where are you going?” His voice cracked, barely holding back the desperation.

“To bed,” you answered, your tone cold, distant. Still, you wouldn’t look at him.

He glanced at his phone, confusion flickering across his face. “It’s only 7:30?” he questioned, as if the time mattered in the slightest.

“I don’t care.” Your voice was soft, almost too soft, like a balloon deflating after holding in too much air. “I just need to be away from you.”

Matty took a step closer, his hands trembling as he reached out, though he stopped short of touching you. “C’mon, baby. Please don’t do this,” he pleaded, his voice rough with guilt. “Talk to me. Let me fix this. I can make it right.”

The crack in your heart finally shattered. “I don’t care anymore.” The words tumbled out, jagged and raw, each syllable heavy with the weight of years of pent-up frustration. “I’ve let the stupid shit you’ve done slide my entire life! And I’m just… I’m so tired. I’m tired of you disappointing me over and over.”

He looked at you, his face crumpling as if he didn’t know what to say, as if he hadn’t realized just how deep the hurt ran. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely holding together. “I’m so sorry.”

You let out a bitter laugh, one that held no humor. “I know you are. You’re always sorry, but I’m tired of hearing it. I don’t care anymore.” Words hitting a little harsher.

He took another step toward you, his voice shaking. “Please, Y/n. Just give me a chance to fix this. Let me make it right, I’ll do anything.”

“No.” You shook your head, your resolve hardening. “You can’t fix this. You can’t even remember my fucking birthday birthday.”

His mouth opened, but no words came. The silence stretched, painful, until finally, something inside him snapped. His face twisted, frustration bubbling to the surface. “I wouldn’t have to try to remember if you weren’t here!” The words flew out, sharp and ugly, hanging in the air like a slap. His eyes widened, regret flashing through them the moment they left his lips. “I didn’t mean that,” he stammered, panic setting in. “Y/n, I—”

But it was too late. The truth of his confession hit you like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of you. For a moment, you stood there, frozen, feeling the sting of his words sink in. Then, without another word, you turned on your heel and stomped up the stairs, each step heavier than the last.

“Y/n!” he called after you, his voice breaking with desperation. “Please, Y/n, wait! Don’t go!”

You didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You slammed your bedroom door with a force that rattled the house, and for a brief moment, the entire world went silent. Downstairs, Matty stood frozen in the middle of the room, his head hanging low, his body sagging under the weight of his mistake.

…

Matty wasn't sure what to do next. He paced the living room for a while, his steps quick and restless, before collapsing onto the couch. The same spot where you had sat for hours, fighting tears and the crushing weight of disappointment. He stared at the scattered crumbs and empty cupcake wrappers left behind, his chest tightening as he imagined you curled up there, waiting for him, hoping for something he failed to give.

The knock at the door broke through his spiraling thoughts.

He rose sluggishly, his movements heavy with dread. It was late—too late for a neighbor or a delivery. As he opened the door, the cold air rushed in, carrying with it the sight of George standing on the porch. His coat was large, the collar flipped up to shield him from the wind, and his hands were stuffed deep into his pockets.

“Hey,” George greeted, his voice low and careful, though his sharp eyes betrayed his concern.

Matty blinked in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

George’s expression hardened. “Bubs called. She didn’t tell you?”

Before Matty could answer, he heard the hurried sound of footsteps behind him. You swept past him without so much as a glance, your shoulders stiff, your chin lifted in quiet defiance.

“Hi, George,” you murmured, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. Your voice was clipped, your movements rushed, as if staying in the house a moment longer would suffocate you. “I’ll be in the car.”

Matty turned to watch as you walked away, your silhouette disappearing into the darkness. The slam of the car door reverberated through the silence.

“Shit,” he muttered, running a hand through his already disheveled hair.

George stepped inside, his boots thudding against the wooden floor. He shrugged off his coat but didn’t bother to hang it, instead crossing his arms and pinning Matty with a pointed look. “What happened, mate? She wouldn’t tell me anything, just that I needed to pick her up.”

Matty hesitated, his eyes darting toward the empty couch before finally meeting George’s gaze. “I said something…I said something really bad.”

George’s brows shot up. “Go on.”

Matty’s voice cracked as he admitted, “I forgot her birthday.”

“I’m sorry—what?” George’s tone was sharp, his disbelief cutting through the room like a knife.

Matty winced. “I left this morning and went to the studio with Adam. My mind was on recording, and I—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” George interrupted, his voice low and dangerous. “That’s not an excuse to forget your only child’s thirteenth birthday.”

“I know!” Matty snapped, his frustration with himself boiling over. “I know, okay? I screwed up. But I talked to her, and I tried to—”

“Oh, this should be good,” George interjected with a bitter laugh. “Let me guess. You made it worse.”

Matty let out a defeated sigh. “She was crying. I told her I could fix it, that I’d do anything to make it right, and she told me I couldn’t even remember her birthday. And that’s when…”

George raised a brow, his patience clearly thinning. “When what?”

Matty swallowed hard, his throat dry. “That’s when I said, ‘Well, I wouldn’t have to remember if you weren’t here.’”

The silence that followed was deafening. George stared at him, his jaw tightening, his eyes blazing with anger and disbelief. “You are a fucking idiot,” he said finally, his voice calm but dripping with contempt. “You know that?”

“I know.”

“No, I don’t think you do,” George shot back. “Because if you did, you wouldn’t have let her walk out of here feeling like that.”

Matty’s shoulders sagged. “What do I do?”

“You want a step-by-step guide on how to not be a shitty dad?” George’s sarcasm was biting, but when Matty didn’t respond, he softened, his tone shifting to something more serious. “Here’s what’s going to happen. She’s coming home with me. She’s going to cry into my arms, like she always does when I’m cleaning up after your screw-ups. Meanwhile, you’re going to sit here, think long and hard about what you said, and figure out how to make this right.”

Matty nodded weakly. “Okay.”

George stepped back toward the door but paused, turning to face Matty one last time. “And Matty? If you ever, ever make her feel like that again, I won’t just clean up your mess—I’ll make damn sure you know what it feels like to be left behind.”

……..

The car ride to George’s house was quiet, the only sounds coming from the soft hum of the engine and the occasional sniffle you tried to suppress. George didn’t push you to talk. He knew better than to force words out of you when you were like this. Instead, he kept one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on the gear shift, his presence steady and grounding.

When you arrived, George parked in the driveway and turned off the car, glancing over at you. “You hungry?” he asked softly, his voice breaking the silence.

You shook your head, staring out the window. The weight of the day pressed against your chest, and food was the last thing on your mind.

“Okay,” he said, not pushing the issue. “Come on, then.”

Inside, the warmth of the house enveloped you, a stark contrast to the cold night outside. George flicked on a lamp in the living room, casting a soft glow across the room filled with mismatched furniture and framed photos. It felt safe here, like a refuge from everything waiting outside.

You dropped onto the couch, pulling your knees to your chest. George disappeared into the kitchen for a moment and returned with two mugs of hot chocolate. He set one on the coffee table in front of you and settled into the armchair across from you, cradling his own mug between his hands.

“Want to tell me what happened?” he asked, his tone gentle but firm.

You hesitated, biting your lip as your gaze dropped to the mug in front of you. The steam rose in lazy swirls, and you watched it as though it held the answers you couldn’t find.

“It’s not just the birthday thing,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

George nodded, not interrupting.

“It’s everything,” you continued, your words spilling out faster now. “It’s like… I don’t even know if he really wants me here. Half the time, he’s so busy with his own life, and I feel like I’m just in the way. Like I’m some obligation he didn’t ask for.”

George set his mug down and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Listen to me, kid,” he said, his voice steady. “Matty is a lot of things—most of them a pain in the ass—but he loves you. He’s just… not great at showing it sometimes.”

You scoffed, wiping at your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie. “He told me he wouldn’t have to remember my birthday if I wasn’t here.”

George winced, his jaw tightening. “Yeah, that was a shitty thing to say. No excuses for that.”

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with hurt. “Do you think he means it?”

“No,” George said without hesitation. “I know he doesn’t. Matty’s an idiot, but he’s not heartless. He’s just scared, and when he’s scared, he says things he doesn’t mean. He’s trying, in his own messy way, but that doesn’t mean you have to forgive him right now.”

You nodded slowly, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak.

George moved to sit beside you on the couch, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “You’re allowed to be mad, Y/n. You’re allowed to feel hurt. But you’re not allowed to think, even for one second, that you don’t belong here, because you do. You belong with him, and he knows it, even if he’s too dumb to show it the right way.”

You leaned into him, the warmth of his embrace and the steadiness of his presence easing some of the tension in your chest. “Thanks, George,” you murmured.

“Anytime, kiddo.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

 ………

The next morning arrived sooner than you had wanted it to. You were curled up on George’s couch, a blanket draped over your legs and a mug of lukewarm hot chocolate in your hands. The sitcom on the TV had long since faded into background noise, your focus lost somewhere between the fraying edges of the blanket and the storm of emotions churning in your chest.

George walked into the room, pausing just inside the doorway. His expression was cautious, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. You could tell something was up before he even opened his mouth.

“Your father is here,” he said, his voice soft but laced with something that sounded like reluctant hope.

You didn’t look up. “Is he now?”

George shifted his weight, pulling one hand free to scratch the back of his neck. “He wants to talk to you.”

“That’s a first.”

He sighed, moving to sit on the arm of the couch. “Maybe it’ll be good for—”

“Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop fixing his mistakes.” Your voice was sharper now, laced with frustration and an undercurrent of exhaustion. “This is what always happens. Dad makes a mistake, I end up crying, and you or one of the guys come in and fix his problem for him.”

“It’s not a problem. You are not a problem.” George’s voice was steady but firm, like he was trying to will you into believing it.

“That’s not what I said.”

“It’s what you were thinking,” he countered. “Am I wrong?”

You looked away, the lump in your throat making it impossible to respond.

“Whatever,” you muttered eventually, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself.

“Fine,” George said with a sigh, standing. “I’m sending him in.”

“Georgeeee,” you whined, your voice cracking slightly. But he was already walking away, his footsteps retreating down the hall.

A few moments later, your father appeared in the doorway, looking uncertain and uncharacteristically nervous. His hair was a mess, his shirt wrinkled, and his hands were stuffed into his jacket pockets like he didn’t trust himself to let them hang freely.

“Hi, baby girl,” he said softly, his voice tentative. “I came to talk.”

You didn’t look at him. “I don’t want to talk.”

“Can you listen at least?” he asked, stepping into the room.

“Whatever,” you replied, your tone flat and dismissive.

Matty hesitated for a beat before sitting down on the edge of the coffee table, facing you. His knees brushed against the edge of the couch, but you didn’t pull away.

“I didn’t mean what I said,” he began, his voice thick with regret.

“Then why did you say it?” You finally looked at him, your eyes sharp and accusing.

“I was…angry,” he admitted, his shoulders sagging. “I was trying to defend myself, and I made things worse. Like I always do.”

“Hm.”

Matty ran a hand through his hair, letting out a shaky breath. “I made you a cake…” he said after a moment, a faint, self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips. “George told me to do it. To repent for my sins.”

You rolled your eyes, the corner of your mouth twitching in the ghost of a smile. “So he’s fixing your problems for you again?”

“It’s not a problem—you’re not a problem—” he said quickly, his voice rising slightly in desperation.

“You sure made it sound like I was last night,” you shot back, your voice trembling with hurt.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“You’re just sorry for admitting it,” you said, your gaze boring into his.

“Admitting what?”

“That I was a mistake. That you didn’t want me.”

Matty’s eyes widened, and he shook his head vehemently. “You are not a mistake, my love,” he said, his voice breaking. “You are my whole world.”

“Then how could you forget my birthday?”

His face crumpled, and he looked down at his hands. “I don’t want to give an excuse,” he said after a long pause. “One, because I don’t think you’ll believe me, and two, because it’s not good enough. I can, however, beg for forgiveness for the rest of my life, and tell you how sorry I am.”

You stared at him, your chest tight and your throat burning with unshed tears. He looked so small, sitting there with his head bowed and his shoulders hunched.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“That’s okay,” Matty said, looking up at you. His eyes were red-rimmed, his expression raw and vulnerable. “Take all the time you need. Just… let me try to be better. Let me prove to you that I can be better.”

The silence stretched between you, heavy and filled with things neither of you knew how to say. Finally, you nodded, a small, hesitant movement that felt like a crack in the wall you’d built around yourself.

Matty’s shoulders sagged with relief, and he managed a small, tentative smile. “Thank you, baby girl,” he said softly.

You didn’t respond, but when he reached out to gently squeeze your hand, you didn’t pull away.

“I got you something.” He whispered. He reached into the large jacket pocket, pulling out a small box, unmistakingly a jewelry box.

You perked up a little, adjusting yourself to sit up. He spoke softly, “I was gonna wait till Christmas for you to get this but, seems like a good time now.”

You let out a quiet scoff, “You planned Christmas already presents but not a birthday one?” He just jokingly hung his head in defeat which made you smile.

Taking the box, you slowly took the lid off, showcasing a silver necklace. It had your initial hanging from the chain, right next to a little charm with an ‘M’ on it, matching the one with your letter. Right above each of those was two small gems which you recognized as your respective birthstones.

You nodded and smiled softly, looking up to meet his gaze. “Thank you.”

He pulled you into a side hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Happy Birthday, love.”

[kandadze]

Ep 29 loose thoughts

Oof, Li Lun's really on his last legs, eh? I do feel sorry for him, but I feel even worse for Bai Jiu - locked up inside his own body, poisoned, forced to ingest human livers, coughing up blood and dying. Can this kid get a break, please.

It's funny to me how ZYC might have figured out ZYZ's ruse because of his top-tier observation skills... or it might have been because he pays *that* much attention to the demon. I guess we'll never know 😅

It's heartbreaking in a way how well ZYZ knows LL, still, after all, and trusts him not to hurt Ying Lei, trusts LL to honor an emotional debt. Also, interesting how even while pointing a sword to ZYZ's throat, ZYC trusts him not to go to certain lengths for his goals... I keep saying this, but- the bonds in this drama! 😭

Is this really the time to walk away without saying anything, ZYZ? (I know, I know. It's so that they can break our hearts more thoroughly real soon.)

Oh okay. So even Wen Xiao doesn't know what exactly is wrong with her - don't you think that's kind of vital info you should've shared, Bai Yan daren? Ngl, I guffawed when ZYZ said, "I searched Wen Xiao's body etc," not sure if it's the translation that's lacking or what, but I'm pretty sure we all had the same thought about how thorough that search was 😝 On a more serious note though, is poison always the most powerful weapon of destruction in cdramas? Like ZYZ has the power to heal stab wounds and vein cuts that would otherwise be lethal, but he can't do shit about poison?

Thanks for explaining why she wasn't there when the gang came back with the scale, I thought it was so weird for Bai Yan to just leave like that when she was supposedly the one to tell them how it works. (Still not sure why it had to be her and not Ying Long or even the princess Longyu herself, but oh well.)

Yes, that's why ZYZ stole the scale. The never ending variations on the trolley problem in this drama (I think I saw someone mention it re the Bingyi cave and then it happened again in ep 28, and now it's happening again)!

"It's hard." And? That doesn't mean it's impossible, right? Bai Yan, *please* speak plainly and in full sentences, because instead of raising tension you're raising my blood pressure.

Ah, of course she would withhold that info if it meant saving her son. ZYC, going straight for jugular lol (gotta love the man, for him restoring the sword means not only getting Bai Jiu back but also saving his own life, and he still would choose not to go through with it if it meant losing ZYZ or, as he just found out, WX.) As a mother, she might have thought of letting her son know who she was when she still had a chance; she might have thought of a contigency plan in case something happened to her. They might have not been in this particular mess now, had *someone* made sure the kid didn't have to resort to making wild guesses, ultimately leading him to be lied to and exploited.

Wow, yeah, okay. I officially dislike both of Bai Jiu's parents now. Also, Bai Yan's words once again reinforce the difference between humans and demons/gods and how they think about time and bonds. ZYC might be a demon now, so technically his lifespan is way longer than human's, and still he might not live long enough to see the next incarnation of the Baize goddess; and even if he could, at this point his concern is the *current* incarnation, thank you very much, whereas BY's looking at the situation from a much wider perspective. Because of course both worlds will be involved. And I'm still with ZYC on this. (Unrelated, but I love Bai Yan's voice. It's not often we get to hear that low of a voice from a woman, and especially not in cdramas, as far as I can tell.)

Oh, fuck off. The fatalism rubs me the wrong way always, and coming from such a supposedly powerful being it's even more grating. (Not for the first time while watching this drama I get a flashback to reading Clamp's "X-1999," the set-up and tone is eerily similar.)

Well I guess I got my wish. Li Lun, you sad little demon possessing a dying child's body, I feel for you and your longing. The white petals around them (white, for death and mourning), oh my heart. The fact that they kept switching the actors throughout his reflections made it even more painful. And then he goes and (indirectly) quotes ZYC, the bit about the lamp kept on for travellers... while Ying Lei can only listen and cry. Oof. Can't help but notice that he still focuses mostly on his own suffering, though... I guess it's fair, for all intents and purposes he still has a mentality of a hurt teenager.

The whiplash I got when he switched to, "if I die, I have to find someone to die with," ouch 🤣 Once a drama queen, always a drama queen, right, LL? Gotta find yourself the grandest stage for your final exit... am I ready to see that? (I adore his character song, btw, even though when I first heard it, it gave me a completely different image of what his character's going to be. Hmm.)

Again, fuck right off, Bai Yan. I kinda wish they showed us more of WX in that scene, but hey, I'll take ZYC's memories, too (probably the first time with a time stamp!). "You must live well." It's like a refrain at this point that they seem to cling to, the worse the circumstances get. And the care between them, I'll never be over the bonds we're being shown in this drama.

I relate to WX so much. Like I get the idea that some things are worth dying for and no one in the gang would hesitate to put their lives on the line. And still, WX wants to live. Staying alive is just as, if not more, difficult as dying. Staying alive while others leave is difficult. Only when you stay alive can you really change the narrative. (Also, can we please *stop* sitting on that goddamn bridge. Why are you even there when ZYC was clearly shown back at the Mount Kunlun? Come to think of it, I just realized that they seem to have completely forgotten about Ying Lei??? And where did PSJ go?)

"How is wanting to live not the right choice?" Funny, coming from you of all people, ZYZ. Will you make the right choice for yourself, then? Thank you, WX. Make him sit on that for a bit... Ngl, I cheered when she tore up that goddamned contract. I don't care if they get to kiss now or no, but I care that he won't have to experience a mild heart attack every time he focuses on his affection towards her. (Because I've never seen him look at her as you would a colleague, so technically his heart should've been acting up nonstop, unless the emphasis was on conscious intent on his part. I'd have to rewatch that ep to see if they actually mention the exact wording.)

Awww look at her boys going "I'll find a way" at the same time! I just hope I'm not gonna cry when their way turns out to be yet another self-sacrificial mission. Interesting, there's a bottle of wine and two cups sitting by ZYC, even though he seems to have been sitting there by himself for quite a while... is it going to be one of those tiny details that become relevant later? (I love how this drama makes me pay attention!)

Oh dear gods, I really hope this isn't what I think it is. ZYC!!!

GODDAMNIT IT IS, HE WENT TO SEE WZY BY HIMSELF, FUCKKKKKK

At this point in the story my sincere wish is that, if nothing else, we *will* get to see WZY dying a slow and horrible death. If *he* survives, I'm throwing this whole drama in the garbage. (Also, somehow I'm not in the slightest concerned about what ZYC's choice might be. I trust him this much.)

Lol the moment Bai Yan mentioned that the fire of the mortal world is not enough to forge ZYC's sword I totally went, "it has to be taken to the Mount Dooooooom!" 🤣

Huh, okay, I didn't expect the ever-burning wood to be necessary for this. That's how we know that we're close to the final boss battle, folks, the quests are getting more and more complex.

"Take it"??? Wait, is it that easy? Oh no, of course not. How did it *not* burn him up after all this time though, was it just chilling in his body without actually doing anything? Other than accidentally hurting LL with it, I don't think we've ever seen ZYZ use it in any way, either 🤔 Okay, so he needs the creation stone as well, okay-

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

😲😲😲😲😲😲😲😲😲😲😲😲

That's the live reaction of yours truly at *that* visual of golden light blasting from ZYC's sword as he grasps it. Holyyyyyy shit, Guo Jingming, Silmarillion adaptation when????

Oh gods, their hands on that stone. Like in ZYZ's vision. I'm scared again. The image of ZYC morphing into LL and then back again!!! If you want ZYC to promise that he'd protect the Wilderness with you, then *you* better promise not to die, ZYZ! Also, could they be any more queer coded at this point? (Aww, WX, I want to give her a hug so badly. Where the hell is PSJ when you need her???)

I take that back, they can and currently are even more queer coded. ZYZ's face when ZYC prepares his drink for him with yet another jade pendant!!! This whole scene, starting with one of my favorite songs from the OST playing in the background, the soft focus, warm lights, close-ups of their faces, the way they gaze at each other... so beautiful. Of course there had to be some theatrics (ZYZ) and fond exasperation (ZYC) involved, too, that's just how they roll, and I'm eating it alllll up.

Did they *have* to go and draw the parallel to last drink and meal though? 😭 also, also, ZYC doing his best to emphasise that their "blood feud" is in the past! In how many ways does he have to tell you that he wants you to live before you get it, ZYZ?

I also remembered their conversation in ep 15, when ZYC asked how ZYZ could live with contradictions, and boy, is ZYC a walking paradox himself. His feelings seem so tangled and complex, but at the same time he's so clear eyed about them, and able to express them, even while saying that they're ineffable. And ZYZ's response! His face! ::head in hands::

The toasts broke me a bit. The way ZYZ hesitated for the longest time before downing his cup for the first toast. The goddamn *poetry* in ZYC's words, the goddamn eye contact throughout, the goddamn tension, HMH's goddamn face!  So good! 😭

!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay you know what? I think I'm getting better at this. There *was* the slight pause before the camera cut to WX and then back to our soulmates (they said it more than once now, I feel justified in using the word for them 😁), I'm gonna wait and see first!

Aw but they're both just so stunning with their hair flying around them lke that. I could watch them forever.

Loved the slow-mo before ZYZ collapsed. Poor WX! That quick shot of her wiping the blood off of ZYZ's chin was so satisfying somehow...

Ahhh I was right, they were in agreement and trying something dangerous together, not against each other! Yay for removing that godawful thing from his inner core, but now what? Are they gonna give it to WZY in exchange for the antidote? Do they actually believe that after all he's done he will play nice??? I love WX, scolding them both like a pair of unruly children 😂

Okay this is getting a little too convenient that they can get eavesdropped on so easily. And not to repeat myself, but where the hell are Ying Lei and PSJ?

I certainly didn't expect to get my wish so quickly lol I guess now we're really down to business when it comes to death countdowns... What did I just say? There is no goddamn antidote! What the fuck did WZY use to create that poison in the first place? The only solution is for someone to use their demonic power to absorb the poison into their own body??? Don't tell me that that's how ZYZ is gonna cure WX. And then ZYC will kill him so that he doesn't suffer. Looking at ZYC, he's about ready to sacrifice himself, though... ::incoherent pterodactyl screeching::

I keep repeating myself, but how is this kid 12. And finally the missing members of the squad reappear! (Just to get the front row, of course.) Oh, oh no. Even though I kinda knew that Ao Yin was going to do this... (I wonder if the poison worked way faster on her because she's a lesser demon?) I can't believe they made me cry over the human livers dealer!

I feel like I said it after every episode so far, but what an episode. I also find it more and more difficult to watch without being tempted to read other folks' commentary first, since I'm so anxious about what's going to happen next; so on one hand, I'd want to be prepared for the worst (so I should spoil myself), on the other though, I want to see what happens with my own eyes first... ah, decisions, decisions.

[gojosvoid]

i kinda want to write something about driver/assistant reader who, despite the difference of status and power, doesn't treat gojo differently.

if anything, you see right through the facade of easygoing and silly he puts up and you'd love to roll your eyes or berate him but you also respect him and the rules so you don't act upon it no matter how much he teases or tries to fluster you. for the most part, you succeed, too, only occasionally biting the inside of your cheek at flirtatious remarks or digging your nails into the steering wheel when he tells one of his outrageous stories— that is, you were succeeding.

because one day, you wake up from a dream... of a certain nature... and it changes everything. on your part at least. because the remarks and attitude continue, gojo doesn't stop, oblivious to your inner struggles. but you can't brush him off as easily anymore. instead of staying calm and collected, you do get flustered now— and easily so to your own embarrassment.

whenever he compliments you, there's an insistent heat that rises to your cheeks because his voice is clear and sweet and you can almost pretend he means what he says if you try hard enough. one time, you zone in on his (big) hands (why are they so big? have they always been?) while he tells a story, gesticulating wildly, and you feel actual shivers run down your spine as you recall the way he touched you in your dream space.

and the worst part of it all is that it feels... well, it feels almost nice to think of him this way as long as you ignore the biting rush of embarrassment and shame that washes over you every time you can't control yourself. because you do respect gojo and you've always liked talking to him, especially the version of him that puts his walls down (even if infinity is still up). because you know he's important and complicated and, despite the almost legendary stories you hear about him, very human.

and you like that about him, how could you not?

but now there's this component of attraction (you inwardly cringe at yourself) that makes everything complicated. so things proceed and you try your best to remain normal and sane for the sake of everyone involved, even if it's unknowingly and, again, you succeed... until you have to spend a full day with gojo and you're in the car and he chooses to sit in the passenger seat (because of course he does, things can never be just simple with the strongest sorcerer of the modern age) and the atmosphere around the two of you grows too thick after all and you snap.

[herearedragons]

"Solas?"

Aqun's breath is warm on his shoulder, the rumble of his voice a faint vibration against Solas' back. Familiar by now, and all too comforting, even when it draws him back from the brink of crossing over into the Fade.

He cracks an eye open.

"Ma vhenan?"

Still strange, so strange to call him that, even weeks later. Every now and then he finds himself retreating to the safety of "my friend", which rings just as true, but that much more distant; a brief and insufficient respite from the bleeding vulnerability of "my heart".

But it is what he is. What they are.

Kadan. Vhenan. So entangled that only the extremes of their language are fit to describe it.

"I... have a question."

Solas chuckles quietly.

"As you do."

He rolls over to meet the eyes of the man beside him. Despite being firmly wrapped in an embrace, this is hardly a challenge; the slightest push is all that's required for Aqun to release him.

Protective, but never confining. Part of him is glad for it. Another part of him is not as wise, wishing, at times, to be held tighter; to be stopped, prevented from leaving.

Aqun's features are faintly defined in the dark before him, softer than they are during the day. His red eyes seem black in the dim light.

"What is it?" Solas asks.

He expects some question related to the Fade, perhaps something they had encountered recently. That, or Corypheus, or some other affair of the Inquisition; it is usually one of the three that keeps Aqun awake at night.

The question that comes is different.

"Where did you fight? That... elven skirmish, Blackwall called it. Where was it?"

At once, despite the warmth of another body so close, there is a chill in the air.

It takes him a moment to place the conversation. It is not a recent one; months old, in fact. An exchange with their resident Warden as they were making their way through the Exalted Plains, before Halamshiral, before Adamant, before... this.

Aqun was present for it and said nothing, but, evidently, he remembered.

It takes another moment to review the tale he had told Blackwall; an attempt to explain away his own familiarity with warfare. He had not mentioned a location, or even the fighting sides, but Blackwall did not inquire further.

"Nowhere of importance," Solas says. "Otherwise, you would have heard of it."

He knows that this answer will not satisfy, but it will give him time to think.

Why is Aqun asking?

Not out of suspicion; everything about his voice and body is relaxed, trusting. It is something else.

Not idle curiosity, either; he wouldn't have disrupted his sleep on a whim.

It is important to him. But why —

Aqun sighs quietly.

"Alright," he says, and does not question further — but it isn't hard to see that he is unhappy.

"You are disappointed," Solas states.

Aqun shakes his head slightly, the pillow rustling.

"I'd like to know, but you don't have to tell me. It's your past. It's fine."

And, just a moment too late, the realization comes of what Aqun was trying to do.

To further his understanding of him; of who he thinks "Solas" is.

The untangling of the mystery brings no excitement, only a strange heavy feeling in his chest — and yet, still, a warmth.

This desire to understand is what drew him to Aqun in the first place, and then made it impossible to pull away. It is what sets him apart from anyone else Solas had met ever since he awakened.

It is what makes keeping the truth from him a harder task than it should ever have been.

Solas deliberates for a moment, choosing his words, and then says:

"Ir abelas. Speaking about it is... difficult. The story is old, but the wounds remain fresh."

There is more truth than lie to that, and it will have to do.

"Alright," Aqun says softly.

The disappointment is no longer there; he has accepted that for an answer.

As always, only the slightest push is required.

"...Perhaps one day I will find it in myself to tell you."

The words are spoken before his mind can pass judgement, and then there is no taking them back.

But Aqun smiles slightly at his statement, and the warmth spreads.

[wannabanauthor]

Tin foil hat time for BuckTommy:

While I believe Tommy should be the one to reach out to Buck, I don’t think that’s going to happen.

So here’s another fix it idea:

Buck learns how to fly a helicopter. He goes to Tommy’s house and practically drags him over to a helicopter but won’t tell Tommy what he’s doing.

Tommy goes along with it because he misses Buck so much, and even though he’s hurting, at least he gets to see him again and share a helicopter with him.

Buck flies them to Vegas, and Tommy is confused because there are no sports matches that day.

He’s confused until they end up in front of a jewelry store, and he’s starting to panic but follows Buck inside.

The clerk recognizes Buck and brings out Buck’s special order: two different sized engagement rings.

The one meant for Tommy is exactly what he would want in a ring, but he’s so confused until he sees Buck on one knee holding the ring in its box.

“Marry me,” Buck says. “I love you, and I want to be with you. I see a future for us even if it scares you.”

Tommy doesn’t give an answer just yet. “What are you doing? Why are you doing this?” He’s in tears and trying to hold them back.

Buck stands up and slides the ring onto Tommy’s ring finger.

“I want to marry you. I get that you’re afraid I’m eventually going to leave you, but I want to prove that I’m not going to. If you agree to marry me, know that I take this commitment seriously. Divorce is hard and lengthy, with or without a prenup. So maybe getting married will be the push we both need to make it work.”

Tommy stares at the ring on his finger. “This is a bad idea. It’s impulsive. Relationships don’t work that way.”

“An unconventional marriage for an unconventional couple. We don’t have to do marriage the way society says it has to be. We can create and shape it into whatever we want,” Buck says.

He pulls out some folders with paperwork and hands it to Tommy. “I had to call in a favor to get multiple versions of a prenup just to make sure we’re both protected if you want to sign one.”

Buck is still smiling at Tommy with love and hope in his eyes.

“Evan,” Tommy whispers and starts crying.

Buck pulls him into a hug and just holds him.

Buck hears some muffled sounds. “What was that?”

Tommy pulls back and wipes his eyes. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Buck has a huge grin, and the clerk claps for them.

Buck pulls out a clipboard with a wedding itinerary.

“We have an appointment at a chapel in an hour. Our friends and family are there waiting for us.”

Tommy grins and kisses him softly, almost moaning at the feeling of Buck’s lips against his. He’s missed this.

His heart beats at an unnatural speed when they say their vows in front of their loved ones.

Tommy gets added to the 118 spouse group chat.

They have a mini honeymoon in Vegas in a really nice suite, and they spend most of their time in bed chatting and having sex, and even they do leave their room, it’s to consume an ungodly amount of food to fuel their sex marathons.

Once the weekend is over, Buck flies them back to LA. Their first kiss in their home city as a married couple happens at the Harbor Station, the very same place where Buck first met Tommy.

As for their living situation, they decide to be unconventional and switch off every week. A week at Buck’s loft, and then a week at Tommy’s house. It gives them to time to learn how to live with each other at each residence before choosing a permanent place to settle.

Of course, divorce is always an option, but Tommy loves married life with his husband, Evan Kinard.

He also promises to never call him “Buck” again.

And they spend the rest of their lives reaffirming their love for each other, and working through the difficult parts.

Finally, Tommy can relax, knowing he’s found the one.

[weirdal1997]

Boot up your computer, stick a disc in your console's drive

Whatever platform you're choosing, it's time to switch on your mind

Could be Super Mario, shooters, FNaF, or those evenings down in the mines

But if you look past all those shiny graphics, you'll be surprised what you'll find

Inside these worlds we love behind our TV screens

There's so much to discover when you peek between

The tiny gaps in the story, science, math, and the lore

We've got all that to explore, plus there's some decent memes

How hard does a headshot blow? How fast does a hedgehog go?

Frogger might not last in biology class, but have you tried to dissect a toad?

How creepers get to explode? The secrets buried in code

You'll never guess what happened to the guests

That were left in that restaurant though

In every level you beat and each boss battle defeat

With each achievement, your view becomes a bit more complete

And with each twist that unfolds and every mystery you solve

We find a new way to see this ball on which we revolve

These games have secrets inside and as a team we can find them

You've a blank page and a clear horizon, so why not do a little theorizing?

I think it's time we did a little theorizing

It's a whole lot of research and the clues keep piling up

But you're not a Scott games teaser, you're already bright enough

So sit back and grab a Diet Coke, or a can full of human souls

And ask if you might, survive the jump, chucking nuggets into the hole

Build a city in the sky and you might vomit from the motion

So you think to try it on the bottom of the ocean

Get the physics right or glass will probably be broken

Then it's still more likely than the FNAF box ever opening

Carrion flesh, marionettes, keeping companions fed

How old Ash Ketchum gets, and we all know Sans is Ness!

Never thought of Markiplier getting freaky

With a Pokémon made by combining other species

Volcanic pressure washing coughing, dogs inside the TV

The horror that is Monika and finding she could see me

The secrets of the bottle flip, the Ender Dragon obelisks

Just why is Zipper's body zipped? A million other theories

You may gain a wealth of knowledge, but you aren't as rich as Luigi

In every level you beat and each boss battle defeat

With each achievement, your view becomes a bit more complete

And with each twist that unfolds, and every mystery you solve

We find a new way to see this ball on which we revolve

These games have secrets inside and as a team we can find them

You've a blank page and a clear horizon, so why not do a little theorizing?

I think it's time we did a little theorizing

We're not contained, to video games, there's loads to explore

Will you or the food expire first, locked in the grocery store?

When navigating a labyrinth, how will you locate the door?

Five pro strats for surviving traps if you were chosen in Saw

The cannibalism practiced on the Axiom starship

The dragonfly mechanics of some animatic cars

Impractical dynamics of a family of sharks

Or the best hamburger tactics when you're stacking the parts

If everyone together does a clap and a half

We add the decibels we measure then map that on a graph

You'd see that we don't need professors here for cracking the answers

It's clever, but never forget we're having a laugh

And we'll do a lot of learning on the way

The gears are always churning, so just turn another page

Whoever said that "Work should be impervious to play"

Never learned to peek behind the curtain of the games

A curious community is spinning the globe

You could join us too, but it's a slippery slope

I'm addicted, so I think I'll pick the theories we wrote

Then I'll wrap 'em with a bow and give it to the pope

In every level you beat and each boss battle defeat

With each achievement, your view becomes a bit more complete

And with each twist that unfolds and every mystery you solve

We find a new way to see this ball on which we revolve

These games have secrets inside and as a team we can find them

You've a blank page and a clear horizon, so why not do a little theorizing?

I think it's time we did a little theorizing (just a little theory)

Theorizing (that's just a theory, a game theory)

Theorizing (that's just a theory, a game theory)

Theorizing (that's just a theory, a game theory!)

But that's just a theory

I think it's time we did a little theorizing

Just had an epiphany

[beastcpu]

I have been determined to be a pinky ring wearer for years now. It's crucial to my character development. I also have the smallest hands anyone has ever seen. I made it my life's mission to find a pinky ring that fits me and finally succeeded. It won't fit on even the very tip of my male friend's pinky finger, that's how tiny it is. It was sold as a ring for babies. If anyone cares

[casualavocados]

Learn from who? Learn from you?

Chen Bowen as CHEN YI & Chiang Tien as AI DI KISEKI: DEAR TO ME (2023)

[icewindandboringhorror]

What would you choose? :0c

(note: original image is from HERE (link) - but I edited it to add a wider variety of options.. also added $3 extra to the total, even though I know that makes it more uneven lol, I thought if you're adding 10 whole extra items, the money to spend should at least be increased slightly, if that makes sense..)

[sesamestreep]

“requiem for methuselah” crazy ass episode for many reasons. Kirk is being fully insane, like I don’t actually think, even controlling for how quickly and easily and readily he seems to fall in love with anybody at the slightest encouragement, that he’d go that bonkers for that android woman he just met while everyone on the ship was this close to dying, but that’s neither here nor there, because in the background you’ve got an equally but much more subtly insane episode for Spock, who extremely uncharacteristically admits to experiencing an emotion (or nearly experiencing, whatever) and that emotion is ENVY of all things. And then spends the rest of the episode warning Kirk away from this new love interest (something that doesn’t usually happen, even when Kirk has very inadvisable love interests) and is, in the end, the person who accurately identifies that Rayna’s competing love for Kirk and Flint is ultimately what overwhelms and destroys her with the most killer line in maybe history???

And then to wrap it up we get an equally uncharacteristic sort of denouement scene (TOS loooves to cut an episode off right after the actual climax, leaving little time for falling action or character reflection, or to stick a sitcom-y button on the end where the gang all smiles and laughs at their misadventures and everything resets to zero, which is not a criticism, it’s just the style of that era of tv, honestly) where Kirk is literally miserable over Rayna’s death (again, kind of unusual for a lot of his love interests, he tends to be able to move on pretty quickly) and Spock goes to see him and he falls asleep right in front of Spock (also odd) and then when Bones comes in to give the final word on Flint, Spock waves him off from waking the Captain (tender) and Bones gives him that awful speech about how it’s sadder that Spock can’t even imagine the love Kirk felt for this random android woman than it is that Kirk lost her in the first place (debatable but also rude) and how his great tragedy is that he can’t love at all like they can and how all he wishes is that Kirk could forget about all of this and move on. AND THEN, to have Bones leave and Spock go over to Kirk and very gently, tenderly, reluctantly touch him and put his hand to his forehead and tell him to forget and HAVE THAT BE THE END OF THE EPISODE??? What am I supposed to do with that??

[dazais-guardian-angel]

Okay, a good amount of time has passed, and after having seen this post by @weretiger-be-my-horse , I've been turning it over and over in my brain going absolutely feral over this concept. I need to expand upon my thoughts on this idea and all the evidence there is pointing towards it, whether that be actual tangible things, or purely strong vibes I have.

First of all, full disclaimer: I did not like the season 5 finale, and how it wrapped up the DoA arc. To say that I "disliked" it is putting it extremely lightly, in fact -- I absolutely hated it, and I am still, to a degree, in disbelief that I actually even watched those 24 minutes with my own two eyes, and that it somehow wasn't a complete fever dream. While I'm not going to go in long-winded detail into all the ways that I feel like the finale almost completely bastardized all of its featured characters and destroyed any and all buildup we've had going on in this arc for 50 some chapters now, because that's not the main point of this post, I will not make any attempt to hide the fact that the theory-crafting I'm about to pose here is partly influenced and prompted by how much I hated the finale, and how much I desperately hope that it will not end up being manga canon. Therefore, if you enjoyed the finale — and that's fine! — and don't want to read any negativity about it, then I would not recommend reading any further (I mean, you've probably already left by this point, which is fair lol), While obviously it's important that I be as objective and unbiased as possible when explaining my thoughts, some of my negative feelings about the writing will be a part of this analysis, even if this isn't going to be a full-blown rant. Just know that if you proceed.

With that out of the way, let me continue.

So. In the aforementioned post, the theory presented is that the anime may be operating on an alternate timeline, and that this will become evident once we read the upcoming October chapter, wherein things will go completely differently post-chapter 110 than they do in the final episode — probably for the worse, with the s5 finale intending to lull us into a false sense of security and make us assume that everything in the manga arc finale will wrap up as smoothly and consequence-freely(? lol) as it did in the anime one. It also suggests that the Fukuchi we see at the very end that sskk are fighting came from the manga timeline, where he won, and that he used the Book to jump to a timeline where he lost, the anime one, proven by the fact that this Fukuchi is wearing a mask with the same design on it as the mask Fukuchi is wearing on the chapter 110 DoA color spread/title page.

First of all, I want to note the fact that it's not just the mask design that's the same: the entire outfit is roughly more or less the same as well. It's not completely 1-to-1, because the anime can never fully match the intricacies of Harukawa's beautiful outfit designs, and the Fukuchi in this scene has the kimono half-off because of the... super saiyan mode he's in, but most all of the main pieces of clothing are there. Any small inaccuracies could also be attributed to the fact that Harukawa probably didn't have this finalized art ready back when this episode was being made, so the animators wouldn't have had the complete design to work off of. But in general, because it's all so similar, I think we can quite confidently say that the ending episode Fukuchi is meant to be the one from this manga art.

Also, people have pointed this out, but it's worth mentioning that the mask Asagiri wore at Anime Expo in July was referencing this Fukuchi. It's not a crucial detail, but it just proves more that Asagiri is a gigantic fucking troll, and that he clearly wanted to draw attention to this Fukuchi design. It's important. He describes the mask here as made in the motif of an ellipses inside a speech bubble... could that perhaps be referencing meta aspects, like the Book?

Next, I want to talk about the even bigger elephant in the room, which to me is the most damning and undeniable piece of evidence there is of the anime operating on a completely separate timeline from the manga:

This Fucking Hand™️

As we all know, in the anime, Fyodor injures his hand when the password input device blows up, and as we all know, this does not happen in the manga. In the last episode, Dazai claims that the final nail in the coffin of his impromptu plan to kill Fyodor relied on this hand injury: because Fyodor couldn't pilot his escape helicopter himself, he would ask one of his Meursault vampires to do it for him, unaware that Bram and thus this vampire was now on the ADA's side, and said vampire could kill him while his guard was down.

Ignoring how utterly stupid and contrived this plan is when you stop and think about it for more than two seconds, the fact of the matter is that something that initially seemed like nothing more than an odd but inconsequential anime original addition ended up snowballing into being the entire reason one of the big bads was brought down. If Fyodor hadn't hurt his hand, he wouldn't have needed another pilot, and so the traitor vampire wouldn't have had an opportunity to get near him and kill him without him expecting it even though said vampire was presumably with him as they were leaving Meursault, and was probably already a traitor by then, so there was plenty opportunity for him to still die. not to mention by Chuuya's hands at literally any time he wanted to, because Chuuya was coherent the whole time. Also there's absolutely no way Dazai could have known exactly what Ranpo would do, no matter how smart he is and how much he trusts him. idk it's fucking dumb, just roll with it. Therefore, putting aside all other variables for now, we can conclude that, on the most basic level, this signifies that no hand wound = no death.

And let me tell you, this hand wound bothers me. It really, really does. Because they focus on it a LOT — they go out of their way to draw attention to it MULTIPLE TIMES, from the moment it first happens to the end of the season. Fyodor even talks about it to himself, about Dazai being able to cause him tangible, visible, bodily harm, (something that, again, as far as we've seen, has never happened in the manga). Hell, even after Fyodor's death, they're still drawing attention to it, because his right arm is all of him that survives, and Dazai picks it up and gives it to Nikolai to do his hilarious sad little gay fondling of it played completely straight even though there's nothing straight going on here at all! It's like it's a big red flashing sign at all times going "you see this injured hand? This is important. Are you picking up that it's important? Are you taking note of it?" Why is that? Obviously, it serves to give us the lore crumbs about Fyodor and "that man", but that's hardly the main, much more glaring reason, as I've already mentioned.

Fyodor doesn't hurt his hand in the manga. Fyodor won't die here in the manga. I am so dead serious by this point about this, and it's not just simply the fact that this was absolutely not at all the time for him to die, or the fact that his hand is the reason for his death in the anime in and of itself, but how much EMPHASIS they place on this, and on the hand in general. What would be the point of adding something like this, if it's not meant to alert us to the fact that it has a major impact on how the story plays out? We all know Bones: they struggle to get right and include everything that's already there in the source material; they would never go out of their way to add something this noteworthy if there wasn't a very good reason for it, if it wasn't absolutely necessary. I've seen a few people bring up the fact that Fyodor gets shot in the shoulder by Sigma and that that could lead to the same outcome in the manga, but I disagree: although he has blood on his shoulder in the manga, it seems like the bullet just grazed the top of it, because his arm and hand appears completely functional afterwards (not hanging limp by his side or anything). But that doesn't even matter, because this isn't even about the semantics/logistics of how the hand wound caused Fyodor's death because again, it's a stupid outcome, or what could serve as a substitute in the manga — thematically, this is a textbook example of the butterfly effect. Countless parallel universes exist within this series, ones where even the most minute differences lead to a majorly different outcome: this just happens to be one of them. There's no reason to think it isn't, and there's no reason to not think that the anime wants us to clue into the fact that things only went as smoothly as they did on the Meursault side because of this wound; in other words, that things will go very differently in the manga thanks to the absence of said wound. They wouldn't have added it in the first place and put such clearly deliberate emphasis on it otherwise.

Things are going to happen very differently in the manga, at least when it comes to the Meursault crew (but then, if you assume that, you then naturally assume it all will be very different). This is the only conclusion one can come to with the presentation of this anime-only wound, combined with the fact that parallel universes are a very real thing in BSD.

I'm going to go on a bit of a tangent, so bear with me. I play a lot of visual novels, and although such concepts aren't really as original now as they were a while ago, some of my favorite and some of the very best VNs out there are the ones that break the fourth wall and make the visual novel branching route format directly intertwined with the story: you know, the ones where the characters go "if only I had done things differently, maybe everything would have turned out better...!" in a wink wink nudge nudge moment, and the ones where the characters are aware of the different timelines, even, or even have the ability to gain information from their selves in said alternate timelines to influence events in their current one (I'm intentionally not naming the games I'm thinking of for the sake of spoilers, but if you know, you know lmao). It gets very meta in this regard, and this is how I started viewing BSD through the lens of ever since I first learned about Beast: like a visual novel with many branching routes, and only a few routes that feel entirely "right".

When I first read Dazai's Entrance Exam, I was struck by how unnerving the ending sequence in the abandoned hospital felt. Obviously, Kunikida's internal struggle over Sasaki's actions and motives is him still desperately clinging to his ideal world that does not exist, but the specific type of phrases he uses — "who is wrong?" "[who is] the cause of all this?" "there has to be an ideal world" "there has to be something, I'm sure of it" "There must have been something we could have done!" — and the framing of the scene in general, is eerily reminiscent of a bad ending in a visual novel, to me. There's a haunting, looming, bleak sense that a different outcome could have been achieved, if different decisions had been made, or if things outside of anyone's control had been different... and we know that this is true, because in Beast alone, Kunikida never goes through the Azure Messenger incident, because Dazai doesn't have his entrance exam. Hell, you could even consider the anime's version of the Azure Messenger arc an alternate timeline in of itself, if you really wanted to, long before we even arrive at season 5.

When it comes to Beast, this timeline has almost the opposite feeling of what I described above, that I've also encountered in visual novels: the idea of a "good route" or "good ending" that still doesn't feel quite earned, or as perfect as one would expect. Beast is presented as the "ideal" timeline purely for one sole reason: Oda is alive. It is the only timeline where he's alive, and keeping Oda alive is the ultimate goal Dazai wants to achieve, the only reason this timeline exists; therefore, disregarding all else, Beast should be the best timeline, because Oda's death is the greatest devastation in the series to date. We all want him to live, so why wouldn't the timeline where he does be the best one? And yet... of course, it isn't. Dazai is alone, and steeped in darkness and loneliness without Oda, and dies by the end of the story for Oda's continued living. Atsushi has Kyouka still, but he's suffering and more traumatized, and unable to heal while stuck in the mafia, and neither can Kyouka. Akutagawa is living a much better life in the ADA... but without his sister, and without what he has from his bond with Atsushi in canon, that isn't replicated in Beast. And Oda... Oda is alive, and he has his children and his novel, but there is a feeling that he is aimless, that something in his life is missing. He has everything he ever wanted, but all that means nothing without what he truly needs: Dazai, and his time with Dazai and Ango at the bar. In this way, things going well and us getting what we want — in this case, Oda living — goes against how it's supposed to be, the natural order, which is why it feels so hollow. In the specific visual novel I'm thinking of here as a comparison (again, shoutout if you know), there's an alternate ending that involves you inputting information you gain at the end of the game very early on in the game, wherein the protagonist now has memories of the future and is able to bypass and prevent all of the events that take place normally. This means that people who die or are hurt somehow in general are saved from that fate, and nothing bad ever occurs; everything wraps up neatly and nicely... but again, there's an undeniable, unsettling feeling of emptiness, of a victory that rings hollow, because what's the point if everything is simply handed to you easily, where's the sense of accomplishment, without any struggles to achieve said victories, or any growth along the way? How can it feel earned if one doesn't have to, in Dazai's words, "scream within the storm of uncertainty, and run with flowing blood"?

You can probably already see where I'm going with this.

This finale feels weird. Really, really weird. It feels too cheap, too simple, too unsatisfying. So much so, in fact, that for almost the entire runtime, as I was bombarded with resolution upon resolution one after another, I kept thinking "There's no way this can be real. Where's the catch? When is the "gotcha!" moment gonna happen? The "it was all a dream" reveal?". And this isn't just because I hated the writing, and that it really did feel like a fever dream watching fanfic levels of bad (actually, that's an insult to fanfic writers, tbh; they could do better) — no, it genuinely feels so incredibly fake. Even upon rewatching it and already knowing what happens, my brain still naturally keeps expecting some kinda of "sike, you THOUGHT!" moment to suddenly appear. It just.... feels "too good to be true". Dazai and Chuuya come out unscathed, and it's revealed that they were never in any real danger to begin with. Fyodor, one of our biggest threats, is dealt with supposedly for good (I say "supposedly" only because of the Jesus line, but if anything imo, I think that's just a hint that this won't be the canon ending in the manga, so in a sense he's going to "come back to life"), and Nikolai seems somewhat at peace with his death. The other biggest threat, Fukuchi, is also dealt with, and he and Fukuzawa get their final moment together of closure. Yes, Sigma is left in Meursault don't even get me started on how angry this alone makes me, and Fukuzawa loses Fukuchi, but overall, everything is portrayed in a positive light, and any negatives or losses are quickly glossed over. Everything is tied up nicely, neatly, and smoothly. ...And that is exactly what makes it feel so wrong, and hard to trust in.

I'm not sure if this will make sense, but to me, the finale is so incredibly poorly written that it almost feels.... intentional. It's so bad to the point of feeling self-aware in how bad it is, how unrealistically happy and convenient an ending it is. It had to end this neatly in order to rush to wrap up this arc for the season finale and not leave the last episode on a cliffhanger — which imo is chiefly the main reason it turned out this way, and, if this whole theory is true, Asagiri just used it to his advantage — and I'm not saying this was probably an effect Bones had in mind intentionally, I'm sure they just threw shit at the wall and went with whatever stuck, maaaaybe with some suggestions/approval from Asagiri, but the result is that you have a conclusion that contradicts so much of what was set up before and goes against so many character arcs, making some characters so out of character and even regressing in their development Dazai. I'm talking about Dazai abandoning Sigma, because he would never; hashtag #NOTMYDAZAI. Also Nikolai, Nikolai for most of that is so ooc I can't even begin to describe it oh my god. Everyone is OOC to a degree though lmao, and opens so many plot holes, to the point that it's impossible not to watch all that and get the feeling that it is subtly saying to you "did you really think it could be this easy? It feels wrong, doesn't it? It doesn't feel satisfying. It feels unearned." I find it incredibly interesting and suspicious in particular that they confirmed multiple theories people had about soukoku in Meursault: that Chuuya slowed the elevator's fall so that Dazai wouldn't die from it, that Chuuya slowed down the bullet so that it only penetrated Dazai's skin and not his skull, and that the both of them used Fyodor's camera angle to their advantage because they knew he wouldn't be able to see certain things from his view. I'm not saying that Asagiri trawled BSD twitter and tumblr after those chapters dropped for the most popular theories before the final episode was made lmao, there was no time for that (imagine though lol—), but I do think it's highly likely that he already had in mind exactly what theories would be made about these parts (I mean, the evidence for the gun scene was all there), and that Dazai rattling them off in his long monologue to Fyodor at the end is essentially him speaking to the audience and going "yeah, that's what you would predict, right? Those are the clichés, after all", much like him suggesting earlier that he can maybe bring Chuuya back to himself with a few moving words and the power of friendship, and Fyodor using the split personalities trope to fool Sigma. We expect these tropes to be true. Of course we'd fall for them, as Fyodor tells Sigma, especially if the evidence is right there. But Asagiri himself has explicitly said that he likes doing the opposite of what people expect. And so just because people predicted correctly with the three things I mentioned in this timeline... doesn't mean they'll be true in the manga's. Things happened how we wanted and expected it to, and everything turned out happily. So we can relax now, right? Everything will work out just as easily in the manga, right? Or... is the reason most of this finale feels so fake and unsettling and unsatisfying because it's meant to lull us into a false sense of security before all our heroes lose in the manga? Because deep down, we don't want an ending that's this simple, because we'd rather have a conclusion where our characters have struggled more and grown more and come out the better for it, and we know it?

After rewatching the episode a lot, and watching some other videos, and doing a lot of thinking, I am pretty confident in suspecting that the only part of this finale that is actually from manga canon, aside from Aya jumping off the building of course, is Fyodor and Nikolai's exchange after Fyodor leaves Meursault — specifically, them talking about Fyodor leaving Sigma behind, and their "new game" and Nikolai being excited at the prospect of it. This little conversation actually feels in character for them, and it's easy to tell this when contrasting it with everything that happens immediately after, wherein Fyodor is fatally stabbed, and Nikolai, completely at odds with what he was just talking about, just... stands there and watches Fyodor die while Dazai monologues lmao. I'm not sure if the helicopter is still a factor, but I would bet good money on Fyolai getting out of Meursault being manga canon, and that Dazai and Chuuya getting out as well and killing Fyodor + everything with FukuFuku, is part of the anime original ending, in order to wrap up everything positively. It makes much more sense if you think about, in reality (aka in the manga), Dazai and Chuuya still being left behind in Meursault (where they can eventually try to get Sigma), because none of it was an act and things did not go according to plan, and Fukuchi having an entirely different goal that doesn't feel so stupid and contradictory to his character, and Fukuzawa possibly dying — everyone seemingly loses, with Aya still being the last hope, perhaps by awakening her ability like we all speculated.

There's a youtuber I watch who covers BSD in-depth, despite being an anime-only (she reads the respective manga content after each season, though). Going into this finale, she knew about the fact that the anime had overtaken the manga, though she didn't know where the cutoff point was; despite that, however, she made predictions about what was from the manga so far and what was anime original, and it was almost entirely spot-on, based mostly on what she basically described as "anime original dialogue." She talked about how you can always tell when dialogue is veering into the realm of anime-original, because the sentences are very short, choppy, and slightly out of character, but generic enough to not be TOO out of character, and so that anyone can easily write said lines, even if they're not extremely familiar with the character like the original author would be. And when I heard this explanation, everything clicked — because so much of this finale has dialogue like that. The Fyolai scenes just feel peppered with it, around the lines I mentioned earlier, the Dazai dialogue does too, and ESPECIALLY shit at the end like Fukuchi and Fukuzawa exchanging the cliche death lines to end all death lines: "Are you there? I'm a little tired." "Rest up." That just isn't Bungou Stray Dogs. That isn't Asagiri. BSD is cheesy at times, yes, but it isn't like this; it's smarter. The dialogue is smarter, the explanations/plot twists are smarter, Asagiri is smarter, and the aforementioned youtuber I watched agreed. She's a pretty casual fan of the series, so if even she could pick up on these things, I think it speaks volumes.

I mentioned this briefly earlier, but this theory makes sense if you consider that this situation probably came about because of Bones wanting two seasons back-to-back when they did, and this arc being as long as it is. Season 3 aired in 2019, and I imagine Bones would have wanted season 4 in 2020, and might have then been willing to wait a bit longer for season 5 in order for more of this arc's manga chapters to come out — but then covid happened. Because of that, season 4 was delayed to 2023, creating the longest gap we've had between seasons, and I wouldn't at all be surprised if the delay made them want season 5 right together with it, after getting so far "behind", so to speak. S4 was announced in November of 2021, and roughly around that time, Asagiri was finishing up writing the plot of the DoA arc. If Bones came to him sometime in late 2021 and said they wanted two seasons now (so basically, one giant two cour season), Asagiri would know that not only of course would this arc not be finished publishing in the manga for a very long time yet, but that roughly 20ish episodes would not be enough to cover it all to the end, with this arc being longer than any arc the anime has adapted to date. Because of all this, and the arc manga chapters being nowhere near fully drawn to completion, he'd have to make a decision about what to do, and what to give Bones. Without ending season 5 on a massive cliffhanger that wouldn't be resolved for years until an eventual season 6, the only other option would be to rush towards an anime-original ending for the DoA arc.... and for Asagiri to take advantage of that, and integrate it into BSD's lore. Thereby creating a truly unique cross-media experience that utilizes the different mediums to create multiple timelines, that could make both the anime and manga interact with each other and become part of a bigger picture (not that you'd need to see both to get the full experience, mind you, just that it'd provide a little bonus if you did).... and would without a doubt be Asagiri's biggest surprise yet.

...I feel like at this point I'm starting to ramble, and my evidence become more and more incoherent and less substantial lmao, so I should probably end this post. 💀 Thank you if you've read this far, and hopefully it made some semblance of sense, despite not being structured very well; I know I promised at the start to try to be as objective as possible and curb my negative feelings, but I'm not sure how well I succeeded in that regard. If it weren't for the Fukuchi thing and the Fyodor hand thing, I probably wouldn't take how wrong and strange and bad the finale feels to me as serious evidence about it being an alternate timeline, especially since I seem to be one of the only people who actually hates all of it.... but combined with everything else, I am just so convinced of this theory being true. It started off as pure copium, but as more time has gone on, I fully, 100% believe in my bones (ha) that there is no way that finale is the same Bungou Stray Dogs I know and love, for so many reasons. It just isn't. It can't be. I know BSD better than this, I know Asagiri better than this, and I know that it's absolutely in the realm of possibility for him to cook up this whole scheme to completely blindside us with in the upcoming chapters, because that's exactly the kind of shit Mr. "Please Be Surprised!" himself would pull. If I end up being completely wrong, I guess I'm wrong, and you can laugh at me all you want then.... but I just know that ages ago people were teasing the idea of the anime operating on a different timeline from the manga, and I truly do think that only now are we finally seeing that idea come to fruition, as a setup for Asagiri going full-bore insanity with the Book in the upcoming arc(s). if I and the OP of that theory end up right, this will be the wildest time in the BSD fandom's history.

Like. I cannot even emphasize how hard they are trolling us at this point. Something is going on. Something is being cooked over there, the likes of which we've never seen before... and I don't think any of us are ready for it.

Oh yeah, and one last thing of note: both Fyodor and Nikolai here have their right arms hidden from view. Is that alluding to anything? I'm not sure. I also think that since chapter 110 was so short, next chapter will likely be 110.5 instead of 111, and if that's the case, this title spread could still technically be associated with the next chapter... wherein we might see this Fukuchi, who ends up wreaking havoc, right before he jumps to the timeline in the anime, as we see him at the end of the s5 finale.

I guess we'll find out on Tuesday.

[phagodyke]

the masculine urge to take a saucepan off thr draining board and bash myself repeatedly over the head with it until I pass out and no longer have to experience feeling Bad 😍

[longmaxsilvarg]

will forever have a soft spot for chloe cause yeah dawg i get it we can try to avoid becoming attached out of the overwhelming fear of being abandoned again but miserably fail together

[itspileofgoodthings]

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