#not x reader

Pt. 2 to this as I had originally planned to include Abbot walking in on Whitaker & Robby

// Ao3 link 🔗

Omega! Abbot who had finally caught a break between patients for himself when he remembers the current bit of gossip going around. Something about a new resident presenting on the job.

Aware that the hospital’s nesting room was just a hallway away. His instincts were nagging at him. Insisting Abbot go see if they needed anything, outside of a rut/heat partner. Heavy footsteps echoing on the linoleum floor.

His curiosity piqued when the scents wafted towards his nose. Recognizing one of them as Robby’s. Having helped each other through plenty of heats before. But the other one was expectantly new; ripe blackberries and dewy wildflowers. Mixing with Robby’s ocean beach scent.

Knocking softly on the door before entering, Abbot had brought a container of food and some fluids for them. Unsure when the last time the nest’s mini fridge had been refilled. At the sound, Whitaker was on edge. His knot had finally deflated.

₊˚⊹♡"Right, SO—"

Or: You admit to not feeling worthy about being at Night Raven and the boys have OPINIONS

Dorm: Heartslabyul

Character(s): Ace, Deuce, Cater, Trey, and Riddle(in that order).

Tag(s)/Extras: I made this borderline silly but like...enjoy regardless. This was also written in my journal before getting here.

You absently help Grim onto your shoulders, nodding along to his suggestions and proceeding to put none of them on their shared plate.

All of those combinations sounded heinous and you want to stay perfectly lucid for the rest of the day.

Finally, they finish choosing their lunch and leave the line. you barely spare and eye at the mini shop everyone is lining up for—The food can't be that good for half the cafeteria to be up—and weaves easily through the crowd. Grim, however...

You lost Grim. Shit.

You squint at the crowd and strain you ears. You nod when you hear his voice among the mob.

Yep, that checks out. You expected that to happen.

You turn from the crowd, finding your usual table and setting down your tray before sitting down yourself.

You hate how this school has conditioned you to barely react when someone plops right in from of you

🂱 ˎˊ˗ Ace

You look up at Ace as he sits down, raising an eyebrow at the pastry he slams down in front of you.

"...You're lucky that's a sandwich." You deadpan.

"I don't know what that is, but it's not a sandwich." He shrugs and plops down. "You're welcome...?"

He does a 'continue' gesture with an expecting expression.

"....fuck you?" You say innocently, before letting the act drop and continuing with your food.

"Ungrateful." He grumbles and looks you over. "What's up with you today?"

You sigh and set your fork down, propping your arm up to rest your head on your hand. "Just thinking."

"About...?" He digs, scooting closer despite the entire lunch table being in his way.

"Things," You shrug. "Most of it about me being here."

He's quiet for a moment, before hesitantly asking. "So...thinking about your world?"

You try and smile at him comfortingly, his questions about your world have increased ever since you witnessed his dream back during Malleus's overblot. You haven't even given him a solid answer to him, which you're sure does nothing to help the anxiety you know exists in his chest.

You shake your head. "I've been thinking more of here than I have there. To be honest...I really don't think I should be here at Night Raven."

Now that the words have had the chance to see the light, they tumble easily out of your mouth. It's always been easy to speak with Ace, you're not surprised he was able to pull the truth from you by doing essentially nothing.

"Realistically, Crowley should've given me up to CPS to handle, or whoever you have here. That way, I could find a way to go to a general college. One that doesn't require magic." You raise your fork to your mouth, taking a bite and eating, before continuing. " Really, one of the main reasons I'm still here is because of Grim. I want to help him succeed, so I have to stay."

You continue eating, not noticing Ace even move until that damn sandwich slams beside your tray, making you jump. A wide eyed expression looks up at Ace, and follows as he plops down.

"Run that by me—" Ace begins, getting far too close to your face with an expression you've yet to see aimed at yourself—restrained rage. "...one more time."

You lean back, creating distance that he closes by leaning forward—your back can't take much more of this, why is he following—with a growing nervous expression on your face.

"...I should've gone to general college?"

There's a moment where the loud chatter of the cafeteria is the only thing that's heard after your near squeak of a sentence. Then, he nods slowly. Leaning back and picking up the sandwich once more. His eyes narrow and zero in on you.

And you know what expression means.

"Ace, I'm begging you, please don't throw the—"

He throws the sandwich.

You pointedly ignore the yelling of the kid who got hit in the back of the head with it after you dodged, glaring at the other. "...I feel like you would've felt better if I didn't dodge, but also fuck you—"

"Y'know what I just heard, Prefect?"

You jump at the volume of his voice, ducking your head and hiding your face by hovering your hand near it as people turn to stare.

"Ace, keep it down—"

"Bull. Shit. Absurd—"

You opt out of telling him that he both looks and sounds like Riddle at the moment, but you'll definitely tell him later just to see his reaction.

"—Utter stupidity." Ace slams his hands down on the table, nearly standing. You look up at him, hand paused from grabbing your water to sip from.

The same hand they put back at their side from just how lethal Ace's glare is.

You give him an owl-ish stare, blinking in confusion. "Why are you offended?"

Ace huffs and sits down correctly. "Never say shit like that ever again."

People finally stop staring, returning to their original conversations.

"I swear, the last time I was this pissed at you was when you came back from S.T.Y.X—" He yelps when you kick his shin from under the table, giving him a pointed stare. He rolls his eyes, but doesn't continue his statement.

"...I'm telling Riddle, by the way." He says casually as he offers the sandwich.

"You bitch—"

🂡 ˎˊ˗ Deuce

You glance to the side and nod your greeting when Deuce sits beside you. he nods back and slides you something with a slight smile.

"I got in the line early and was able to get us something each." The reminder has you glancing at the mob again, searching for Grim and then relaxing when you spot him. You look back to Deuce as he continues now that your attention is back on him. "I hope I got something you like."

You bump your shoulder with his as silent thanks and reassurance that you'll like it regardless, picking up the pastry.

He watches until you take a bite, brightening when your eyes sparkle and sharing a nod with them once more. Finally, he picks up his fork and starts to eat. You eat your meals in comfortable silence; Deuce was somehow better at picking up your hints of a 'quiet day' than Ace was, although Ace could tell when you were truly having a bad day.

You look to him when he taps your shoulder, swallowing the food in your mouth as he speaks.

"There's something on your mind."

You shrug, but nod. He's not wrong.

"Would you like to talk about it?" He offers, voice with a hint of tilt to it at the end, and combined with the hopeful expression, your resolve to keep it to yourself wavers.

You sigh and rest your head on your hand, pushing around the food on your tray with your fork.

"Just...a thought, y'know? Nothing serious." You don't turn your head to meet his gaze, but they can see out the corner of your eye that he leans forward to try and get a glimpse of your expression.

You should really cut your hair, if it's obstructing his view so much. Although...that doesn't have to be a bad thing. Anyway.

"I've been thinking about here. At NRC. 'Me'." You admits. Deuce scoots closer to hear your quiet words and watches you curiously as you speak. "If it weren't for making up for the magical aspect of our grades, I wouldn't be here. Y'know, if things were fair."

"...what are you talking about?"

"I'm saying I should've went to a general college or something. Go into a course that doesn't require magic—oh my god why are you crying."

Deuce isn't crying, not yet. But there's tears clouding his eyes and welling up to show past his water line. He takes a shaky breath, and you can see how his throat struggles to down the air he just took in.

"Are you saying...?" He whispers, forcing you to strain your ears to hear over the noise of the cafeteria. "...are you saying you don't belong here?"

"I mean....if it wasn't obvious?" Your voice rises an active unintentionally and your hands grip the table to steady yourself. "No magic, which people like to remind me of, and it would fit someone like me—"

"It sounds like more like you don't want to be here." He accuses, anger spilling into his voice.

It did not—wait.

"...it sounded a lot like that, huh?" You smile, embarrassed and wringing your fingers through each other nervously. "Sorry..."

"No, Prefect—" Deuce rubs the tears away, careful of the painted space on his face. "I'm sorry. That was a horrible way to react."

"No, no, you're fine Deuce—"

"Still, telling yourself don't belong here is stupid."

"...ouch."

"it's the truth!" Deuce insists, loud enough to turn heads. He waits until they all look away before lowering his voice. "And I take offense to that before if you don't belong, what about me?"

You frown. "Deuce, you worked to be here, you deserve—"

And for who knows what number they've been interrupted today, Deuce interrupts with: "And I would've failed in seconds if you hadn't been there to help. And maybe the overblots wouldn't have gone the way they did if you weren't there. The point is...you've done too much to not deserve to be here. Also, you do know that you're the only one that gets second chances and re-do's at assignments, right?"

"...I am???"

"[Name], please, put those observation skills to work—"

♦ ˎˊ˗ Cater

"Prefect~!" Cater's tray appears net to you and he snakes his leg—just the one—over the bench to sit down facing them. "What's up?"

You look at in him confusion, the hand holding your fork stilling. "What do you mean....'what's up'?"

"Well, everyone can tell you're 'not in the mood', hence the lack of people bothering you—"

"I quite like that development." You deadpan.

"And people steer clear of this table." Cater gestures to the empty table, then to how the tables closest to yours have less than their usual amount of people.

"...ah."

"Yeah, so, people can tell you're not into it today. But I—" Cater presses a hand to his chest, throwing his other arm around your shoulders. "—Am a thoughtful upperclassman and want to know what's troubling our lovely prefect.

"So!" He sobers, pulling his arm away from their shoulders and sitting up straight. His voice softens and most importantly, the phone goes into his back pocket. "...what's up?"

You try and wave him off with a smile, turning back to your food. "Nothing's wrong—"

"But something's up," He insists. Cater scoots closer. "So tell me."

"...it's stupid." You admit. "Just basic insecurities."

"Like...?"

"I dunno, I just fell like...I'm taking up someone's spot by being here. I mean, I'm magicless and once of the only things holding up my grade up in the magic heavy subjects is Grim. Grim. And I feel like...I should've gone to a general college and someone else would take up my spot on the roster." You paused, slowly setting down your fork onto the tray. "But my spot on the roster is Grim's spot, too. So I can't give it up. That's why I'm still here."

You finish and glance at Cater for his reaction.

"...what's with the face?"

"[Name]. We literally can't afford to lose you." Cater holds your shoulders firmly, looking into your eyes. "Look at me—You. Are the only person here with both logical thinking and okay morals. You have better morals than most of this school. Okay?"

"....oookay?" You lean away—attempt to, at least—but his grip stays strong. "You can let go now."

"No. Because second thing, you are attending a prestigous arcane academy as a magicless student. Do you know how well it looks on a resume for you to be passing regardless of your magic?"

No, you don't know, you never really listen to work related things, but you're going to admit that to a Cater borderline crazed expression. So, you settle for a shrug.

"Fucking amazing. Even just going to Night Raven changes a person's life. I am not letting you give this up."

"...thank you?"

"You don't have to thank me, sweetheart, don't even thank me. You do more work than the school counselor, but it's time for your upperclassman to counsul you. Don't worry, you're in good hands."

"Oh. Thank you." You repeat, actually meaning it this time, with a slight chirp to your words.

"Listen, we can tweak your resume include some of the you do now!" Cater pulls out his phone to open the notes app and making another page. "How does 'advisor to not one, but two princes, plus whatever Kalim is.' sound like?"

"That's a stretch."

"A stretch I'm willing to make."

.☘︎ ݁˖ˎˊ˗ Trey

"Good morning, prefect."

You look up at Trey, nodding your greeting back while your nose scrunching.

"Is it really still morning?"

"Technically, it is. But it's certainly felt like longer." he sighs as he sits across from you, setting his food down in from of him. "It's been a long morning already. Sort of wish the day would end."

"That bad, huh?" You frown, looking over him in concern.

"Not bad," He corrects. "Just...tiring. You know the feeling."

You know the feeling too well, which is why you hum and go back to your food in order to give him some time to himself to relax until class starts up again. However, your lack of response draws the vice-housewarden's attention.

"You're quiet today," he comments, then corrects himself. "Quiet-er than usual.''

"Am I? I didn't notice."

He hums, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses. "...something's wrong."

"Nothing is wrong"

"But something is bothering you," Trey shoots back, chuckling about your grumbles about interrupting you. "Sorry. But, really, what's wrong?:

You give in, sighing and reaching for the bread on your tray to break apart while you speak.

"...'ve been thinking." You mutter. You plop a piece of the bread in your mouth to chew before swallowing, then speaking. "That I don't really belong here, y'know?"

You pointedly ignore he stiffens, instead focusing on breaking the bread apart.

"No magic, my grades can't really spectacular, and if I get stuck here for the rest of my life, being at NRC won't do anything for me if most employeers don't care lil' ole magicless me." You chew on your bread in nibbles, more focused on your rant than your food. Most of the food on your tray hasn't been touched. "It feels like I shouldn't be here."

You don't immediately look for Trey's reaction, and even when you gather the courage to look up at him, he beats you to it by placing the back of his hand against your forehead.

"Your temperature feels fine...maybe the fever is developing rather than in full effect at the time." He forces you to look at him, smooshing their cheeks in the process. "Your pupils look normal.[Name], how do you feel?"

"Fine???" You do your best to respond through smushed cheeks. "What is this about—"

"The only reason you'd think up something so idiotic—" he lets go of your face, finally, and sits back correctly in his spot with his arms crossed. "—is if you were delusional from some fever."

You stare at him, eyes wide and jaw slightly dropped.

"...um."

"So, [name]." He says. "How do you feel?"

"I feel...fine?"

He nods slowly, his eyes narrowing as he gestures for you to continue.

Carefully and nearly stumbling over your words as you watch his face, you speak: "...I feel fine and...I won't repeat anything I just said because none of it is true...?"

"And?"

"And I'll..." You trail off, searching his face for any hint of what they should say. They go over what they could say, trying to choose something that won't set Trey off all people. "And I'll remind myself that I belong here and come to you if I ever believe otherwise?"

His smile returns as they finish and he plucks something off his tray, placing it on your tray instead. Trey pats their hand and pushes their food closer to them.

"Good pick," he smiles at them as they pick up their fork eat rather than pus around their food. "And for the record, [Name]? Don't worry about your grades. An A in emotional skills and therapeutic conversation is more that anyone in this school can accomplish."

♕𓆪 ˎˊ˗ Riddle

"That's not nearly enough food to get through the remainder of the day, Prefect."

Riddle give you a stern look as he takes a seat across from you, on the opposite bench of the lunch table. "And you've eaten none of it."

"Yes, I have."

"Not enough," he counters. After some consideration, he takes your plate and switches some of his food with yours, before sliding it back. "I can recognize when food is pushed around rather than eaten, you know."

You take your tray back and examine the new food on it. Under Riddle's gaze, you sigh and pick something up to eat. "Happy?"

"Hardly." Riddle near deadpans. He takes a deep breath and picks up his own fork to begin eating.

You swallow, and lean on your arms to get closer to Riddle.

"So, why are you sitting with me today? You ask curiously.

"Well," He starts, setting down his fork and folding his hands into his lap. "I thought it was unfair that Ace and Deuce are off with Trey and Cater on an assignment I sent them on, leaving you alone.

"...and," He adds, avoiding your gaze. "I didn't want to leave you alone when something is obviously bothering you."

Your eyes widen, but a soft smile appears on your face at his hesitation to ask.

"...lying to you won't do any good."

Riddle straightens out and nods. "It won't, and if you want me to help to the best of my capabilities, I need the full truth."

"it's nothing that requires fixing, Riddle." You say gently, restraining a laugh as he deflates slightly. "But if you don't mind me venting..."

Riddle nods and scoots closer to the table in front of him, so you could keep your voice low about your troubles.

You smile sadly. "It's nothing big....just my grades are bothering me and other things. Like...how I don't belong here. Because I'm magicless. Because it feels like i'm taking up someone's spot here at Night Raven."

You rest your head against your hand, continuing. "I really should've left. Crowley should've just sent me off to some general college so I could go into a course where magic isn't required to pass. But...Grim wants to be here so bad, and I can't bare to take it all away from him just becayse I don't belong here. So, I stay. For him."

You take your head off your hand to look at Riddle properly. What you see nearly makes you lose your cool in the middle of the cafeteria. Your mouth does this weird motion to keep from laughing.

Riddle is so red. Enraged red. For virtually no reason.

"You said I could rant." You cover your mouth with your hand so he doesn't see how your lips quirk upward and how the laughter threatens to spill from your lips.

"Not about idiocy like that!" His hands slam down onto the table, hard enough to jostle the trays. "Here I thought you might pass some of your common sense and intelligence—or any desirable trait—to Ace and Deuce, but it's the exact opposite!"

"Riddle—" The laugh bubbles up in your chest, but you stamp it down in order to try and calm Riddle down before he performs 'Off With your Head!' on a magicless person.

"NO! This must be reversed!" He pushes his tray aside to pull out a planner from his bag. Riddle sets is in front of himself, flipping the pages until he finds the 'right page', you assume.

"We have group tutoring sessions, but you can't be put with Ace and Deuce, lest this—" He gestures to all of you. "—gets any worse. So, that leaves slots in my schedule here, here, and here."

"Riddle, it's not even those idiot's faults."

"I—I know that, obviously." Riddle physically sobers, the tension leaving his shoulders and the red fleeing from his face. His grip on the poor planner loosens. "Of course, it's not their faults. i know they must...help you with these feelings. I hope you know I meant little of what I said about them sharing their idiocy with you—"

Your eyes widen and a smile breaks out on your face. "Oh my god, Riddle were you joking?"

"....Yes?" He says, as if it were obvious what he was doing."

"I didn't know you could do that!" The smile on your face grows as Riddle's face contorts into a glare. "I feel better already."

"I'm glad," he says drily. Riddle snaps his planner shut and stuffs it back into his bag. "And those tutoring sessions are still happening. Since you're so worried about your grades."

Your face has never fallen so quickly, and Riddle's face has never formed a smirk so fast.

credit to: @diviniyae for the floral divider! credit to: @honeyluvsw for the red medieval divider!

Do you think it burned when Gabriel lost The Father's Light? Did it leave him winded and dizzy, like he'd stood up too quick. Did it cloud his vision with searing colours and swirls? What did he see when the eigengrau swallowed him whole? What did he feel when he realized that no light was left to blind him? When he realized the identity he pledged to his dead god was stolen away with it? Did he mourn the loss of himself? Of his Father? Was the death of the council an act of defiance, or was it an act of post-mortem worship? Can a dead man do right by a dead god? Was it what He would have wanted? Can He ever let us know? Will it matter if He does?

What does Ghost do when he’s got to comfort others? We all know the shelter boy needs lots of love. But what does he do when people he loves are low?

i like to imagine anything with genuine feelings behind it would make simon feel a little out of his depth. sure, he can give a pat on the back and blurt out a few jokes to take the edge off, but addressing the issue head on? i think he would struggle with what to say

thinking he would rely more on being there physically rather than mentally. he would still listen ofc, gives advice where he can, but for the most part, he’s a shoulder to cry on. maybe little acts of service to let them know he’s there for them, even if he sucks at saying that part out loud

I want to ask what do u think what will be Dazai's reaction when his girlfriend find out that she's is pregnant.

Btw I rlly love ur fanfictions and ect. They're my favorite!! Wish u well!!

i literally don't know how to answer this because i project. i don't write fics about getting pregnant or having kids... hardly ever. i'm the last person to ask for pregnancy/mom!reader content unless you want something really sad. i also tend to go the "dead parents" or "no contact" route if that tells you anything.

i have admittedly thought about this before, and if dazai had a true girlfriend, an actual long-term relationship, and the baby wasn't planned, i do think he'd panic internally. i don't think he'd run away or disappear into thin air like most people say he would (that would happen though if it was a one nighter or a temporary thing). he probably wouldn't say anything at first, kind of just... stare. maybe he'll blink, maybe he won't. it would take a while, but eventually he'd blurt "do you... wanna keep it?" and the conversation would move on from there.

i think, just as any first-time dad would, he'd be nervous. scared. the thought of running comes up often that he has to ignore, because i do truly believe once he finds someone to actually keep, he'd love her very much and wouldn't want to leave her behind. but he didn't necessarily sign up for a baby, especially if she decided to keep it. it'd mostly be a moral support thing rather than being an actual parent. he'd feel distant and disconnected. things are on autopilot because he loves her and wants her to be happy and comfortable - she asks for something and he does it without thinking because that's his girlfriend. he doesn't offer help on actually naming the baby or what he'd want to do with it when it comes to raising it. he wouldn't touch the belly or listen to it. he'd be scared the entire time on if it would end up being high-risk or killing her during birth. or if he'd be forced to choose between her or the baby because he knows he'd choose her (as he should but neither here nor there).

there'd be arguments, stress, tears because he couldn't hold it back or hide it anymore that this isn't something he actually agreed to do with her. he'd try to make things easy for her, he really would, but he wouldn't want any part of it. i don't think his mind would change until its born, and he sees his baby for the first time. i know it's stupid and cliche, but he's a man. that's usually what happens. he felt really disconnected because he didn't see it. i think he would still have a hard time in the beginning, struggle a lot because there would be some lingering thoughts of leaving, but it wouldn't be one person he'd leave behind but now two. it'd take time; he'd put on a brave face, but it'd be hard.

eventually, there'd be one night when she's just too tired to handle the baby, and it's that magical night he finally feels connected to his child. his tune would switch up, he'd suddenly be way more helpful than he was before, spending more time with it, showing it off while saying "yeah, that's my kid". suddenly an incredibly "present" father.

he wouldn't want more after that and immediately run to the doctor for a vasectomy.

- ghxst