I Don't Like The Popular Take That Because Something Is Seen As Platonic Or Sibling-like, Is That It

i don't like the popular take that because something is seen as platonic or sibling-like, is that it undermines or invalidates their relationship, or that it denies the level of depth a pairing has — it doesn't. why is romance treated as the only form of love that matters? i would go as far as to argue that any forms of platonic and familial dynamics can transcend boundaries of romantic love, and often times do. there's a rawness to it that can't be replicated elsewhere, a level of devotion that exists and burns. it's so gut - wrenching to have two people who have done nothing but hurt each other grow and accept each other the way family does, really putting emphasis on : i don't like you, but i love you. hurting them, but not letting anyone else hurt them. the jealousy and the envy and the hatred and the love is magnified tenfold.

— [ we were not getting anything done and you know it. ] — the beaurcracy and its red tape, its bullshit rules procedures, there was a reason why the unbinding, rebellious citizens of law thrived in the state of calamity, while the white cloaks scattered like mice. she could now see both sides, and she had no patience for the chase. not when the answer could be so easily retained had she been given the chance to do so. — [ you overreacted. if you had just even a sliver of belief that i'm not going to run off, we'd be fine. ] — the consultant was just picking a fight at this point, nit - picking at his claims, taking them down in any means to absolve herself of her own impulsivities. in her back pocket, was information she'd written down after snooping over the servers and checking the unique codes. they meant nothing to her then, but she'd find someone who'd decipher it. and then decide if it was worth bringing to her supervisor. but she wouldn't tell him at all, intent on keeping the distance as much as possible. stepping past him, she looked around the room once more as if it would conjure another exit to appear, to naught. and so she looked at him once more. she knew he didn't trust her, and it was going to be an absolute pain until she could manage it. she didn't trust him, and they were the same for that. — [ you know, but getting me up there, i could leave you. i could just escape and get away far enough until people realize you're still in here. it seems you're always stuck in the same predicament, regardless. ] — head tilted to the side as she huffed out a breath, brow raising. his hair had become disheveled, yet still so suitable for such ... genuine features. the shadows of the lights did wonders in making an art piece out of him. — [ lift me up, boss. this'll be fun. ] — cheeky grin stretched over her lips. — [ don't get handsy. ] —

following tommy into this madness had proven to be his worst idea of the entire evening, at first only done to stop her from causing chaos, wreaking havoc on the carefully detailed plan he had first created in which to get them in and out with as much secrecy as possible. but no, as expected of her by almost everyone but him in this instance, her wandering nature had landed them stuck with no discernible way out. the ceiling vent had been his last ditch attempt, a way to secure their safe exit but with no real knowledge if it would be at all fruitful. expression deadpan in the face of her irritation towards him, jay had no issue in firing back at her, expression incredulous and searching. — [ me? i told you to stay by my side, this is not that. ] — a gesture to the room in the flickering darkness, blue and red tones dancing across their skin, point punctuated by the souring of his expression, lips still moving in line with some of his words out of habit. — [ this is on you. ] — a pinch to the bridge of his nose, though his gaze never left her, studying her words in attempt to keep up, tripping only momentarily with the narrowing of his eyes in thought. slightly hurt in the face of his mistrust being so openly aired, though it was no secret, jay had made it a point to try and treat her no differently than he would his other associates, and clearly he had failed, whether there was any inward intention to do so he would have to wonder when their lives weren't hanging in the balance. — [ i don't trust you. ] — a slow admission, a heaved sigh and the pressing of his lips together, fingers flexing in the remembrance of how to formulate what he needed her to know. — [ you haven't given me one good reason to. are you going to get up there or not? ] — followed by an exasperated point to the ceiling vent once again, brow arched.

out of the corner of her eyes, she could spot the mantel of previous donors, almost like some prestigious version of a trophy. gold - plated and engraved, she could understand the success of such a gala, of its yearly anticipation. the wealthy would rather take a blade to their throats than partake in simple joys of the mundane, and instead create meaningless competitions akin to pissing contests, a show of who was more wealthy, who cared about their communities more than the other. who could shell out the most funds in the name of whatever charitable focus had gotten their attention for the time. it was enticing, a drug, and she couldn't blame them. she wondered if their stint would land them upon their hall of fame, pseudonyms engraved and forever etched into this false story they'd crafted — a mockery of their livelihoods, a breach in their gated society.

perfectly formed, endearing smile graced her features as she looked at him with stars in her eyes, as if she continued to fall further in love with him with every passing moment. he made it particularly easy to do so, the average women already fell for his whims when he played into his fabricated insanity ( but, who was yosano to judge ? she'd hardly seen him in practice outside of what he'd done with their interactions, she was no fair judge of the skills he, no doubt, had up his sleeves ). side of her body angled in his direction, comfortably flushed to his side as though fitted puzzle pieces. “ you could stand to be more obsessed with your fiancée, the men stared at me after your departure as though they wanted to ravage me. ” it was feedback, playful criticism, but the lilt in her words revealed another layer to them, she was hinting, baiting. “ the society here really value their gentlemen. i bet our target will talk primarily to you about everything except to tell me i'm stunning, and that you're so lucky to have me. ”

it was not rage, but resigned indifference. she was used to it, having grown well adapted to the weaponization of her standing, of her femininity. her attention fixated on the painting, slight nods to his explanations. she was no expert, but she'd visited enough galleries to identify the skill in craft, the use of lacquer to create a masterpiece. the name of the play stirred lost files of her knowledge that she'd forgotten she had. “ not sure the human aspect matters so much but i know this particular narrative contrasted the traditionalism of the time. it's very western in comparison, more direct and explicit in storytelling essentials. ” she'd gone through a phase, an obsession with the arts, and still tried to keep it in her life in some way or form. it was evidently coming to play when needed. she reached out to gently take his flute, bringing it to her lips to take a small sip. “ does it make you feel anything ? ” head tilted ot the side slightly as she inspected it further, as if it were supposed to instill something within her. it didn't. only awe at the skills it took to create such a piece. “ i've never understand when people get emotionally charged with most artwork. it happens very rarely for me. ” and head turned to face him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, lips lingering as she trailed over his skin before hardly pulling back, “ does it make me odd ? ”

amongst the static of the guests' chatter, it had started to come together. to say dazai hadn't understood it from the moment his eyes had been cast over the brief would be a lie, he and ranpo had exchanged looks and almost telepathically developed the scheme, though personally dazai had not cast himself at its centre. though his starring role made perfect sense, within the confines of his secret past - no longer so secret, it had been pointed out that a rather lavish house still sat empty underneath his name. dazai had scoffed, not having forgotten about it but having pushed it to the back of his mind, it made too much sense that the port mafia, that ougai mori hadn't reclaimed it, just another string keeping him tethered to the prodigy he so desperately wanted back, alongside another. it had been advised that he and yosano would stay there until the job had been completed, live their false identities for the period necessary in which to conclude their investigation, now he could see why.

though he cast his gaze to the painting, a fake no doubt, but still undeniably beautiful even so, a dance of watercolour and a distant memory, dazai was watching the hall in his peripherals, idly sipping from from his flute and pretending to have garnered quite the interest in the sight before him. there were two waiters, both of them scouring the crowd and lingering beside those of the wealthier class, eavesdropping. he could only assume that they served as gatherers of information, what kind of status and wealth a person possessed and how much they were worth stealing from, because they would circle back to their target with a new offering, a champagne flute or an hors d'oeuvres. to anyone else it might have looked seemingly innocent, though perhaps bothersome to be asked so many times, but dazai could see the whispers shared between them, could have made out the word if he had stood only inches closer.

the thought was interrupted by yosano's familiar presence, the warmth of her touch searing even with the fabric between them. it snapped dazai from his deductions and forced him to focus once again on the painting before them, huffing a gentle laugh at her words, body angling towards her and head tipping with a wicked smile. “ and he'd be right. ” leaning closer to share a secret once more, “ that was the story, wasn't it? i made you laugh and you've been falling for me ever since. ” to punctuate their tale, the ghost of a kiss to her cheek before dazai stood straight, gesturing to the painting with a tilt of his flute towards it. “ who wouldn't want that? ” an air of sarcasm to his tone, but he'd done his homework. “ a meiji era piece, farmhouse in the snow at sano on wood panel. gold and silver finishings on a scene from the noh play hachi no ki, where a former courtier offers his home to the lord tokiyori who has disguised himself as a wandering monk. see his horse? ” a step closer to her side, flute once again raised and an arm snaking around her waist for good measure, the eyes of the target dazai could feel in his back like daggers. “ and the miniature plum and cherry trees ... ? ” it was a known fact that art was supposed to evoke emotion, but dazai could only stare at it and see the objects, not their meaning. “ it's zeshin's only work to feature human figures, whatever that's supposed to mean. so like everyone else, we just want it to stare at it until we get bored. ”

im such a man who leans in doorways. relaxes against the counter. drapes across a couch. sprawls over an armchair. my spine isnt straight and by god neither am i.

if we're royalty, can't we say what we want ? but he didn't bother trying to refute it, instead only nodding once as if he meant to display some form of agreement. not that it wasn't the first time he'd been reminded of his less than formal verbiage, so there had to be some truth to the age - old traditions and standards imposed on the likes of them. chad learned early on there proved little use in trying to change his father's mind when he had an opinion set, it only resulted in some form of patronization that left him bitter about it for days on end, as if he'd been kicked. but he still wanted the time with him more than anything, and so he smiled in return, despite catching the saturated disappointment. better than nothing, he supposed. “ what, didn't have anything planned ? ” a lighthearted joke but delivered as if it were criticism with an air of unsurprised, as if he'd expected nothing less. low hum escaped his lips as he secured his weekend bag. “ there's a professional tournament happening that's a ten hour drive from here. could make a road trip out of it. ” brow rose as he pulled out his phone to show the digital flyer. “ we could take turns driving, too. ”

" chad, don't say bomb-ass. you're royalty. " charming corrects him calmly, in the same manner his own father once had done to him. some habits were hard to break. " alright, so it was close. " and although he offers the kid a smile, it's not overly kind. it's worse: it's polite and with an ounce of disappointment to it that you could not mistake. " did she now? " of course she did. anything to make sure he didn't have a good time. charming puts a hand to his son's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. " wonderful. " he waits for the kid to look away from him to let his smile drop and for dread to creep in. what the hell was he supposed to do with a teenager for two whole days? " you know what, why don't we make it your choice for the weekend? whatever you want to do. " a beat, he listens to himself. " within reason, of course. take your pick. "

the tunnels beneath the building were more ominous than she'd like to admit, flickering lights and echoed footsteps following the path she made, heels a metronomic tracker. most of the members had been stationed in most access points of the property, for safety, for inspection, and while it was the premise of yosano's task for the night, she was much more concerned with tracking the dried streaks of blood, the path a labyrinth and much more than she garnered for with the blueprints in the back of her mind. a wave of unease travelled down the length of her spine, mechanics of the building creaking naturally, droplets of water loud in the near distance. the forced quietness creeped into her, enough that the immediate buzzing of her phone brought her out of her thoughts, relieved to have had the company amidst the eeriness of it all, sound of his voice a welcome presence.

“ yeah ? are you meant to be included in that bracket ? ” she tutted, velvety hum strung in her throat as she mockingly, wordlessly chastised, “ lying is a sin, you know. ” not that she particularly cared, but it brought the doctor great enjoyment to pick at him, twist apart his words just as he'd left them wrapped in a pretty bow for her devour. she readjusted her grip over the phone, switching hands where one arm supported her elbow, wrapped across her chest. out of the corner of her eye, she spotted what could've been man - made tally marks into the wall and took a picture of it with the agency's camera. glossed petals twitched into a half - smile, something mischievous, weighted with the scandal of his words that reverberated through. ivories bit down on her bottom lip, intake of breath filling the space before she spoke, “ maybe, could use the company ... you know i always like the sounds you make. ” voice was softer, lower, and she waited before adding, “ but what inquiries have you got bouncing around that head of yours ? i'm intrigued. colleague to colleague. ”

he should've been concentrating, even without the immediate drop of at least fifteen floors beneath his feet, the stake - out should have taken precedence over the brimming desire to hear her voice. albeit, dazai could juggle many things at once, and atsushi had reported no issues on his own patrols on the lower floors, so a small break taken in the chill of the night air, the breeze tousling his hair as he danced a delicate balance on the ledge seemed appropriate, in his head. dial - tone echoing in his ear as dazai spun on his toes, one arm outstretched for balance whilst the other held the phone to his ear, he tipped just slightly in waiting for her to answer ⸺ away from the edge, if a certain scolding voice in his head would be satisfied by at least that.

⅋ @leventar, yosano akiko . . . “ if you called just to get off on my voice, i’m hanging up. ”

the crackle of the connected lines and then her voice, tone in the static of her words bringing a smile to his lips, though he pretended to be disappointed, tutting into a sigh that hissed into the line but the tails of it lilted into a quiet laugh. “ expecting me? ” amusedly inquired, dazai stopped his circus act to allow his fingers to wrap around the railing, letting the adrenaline simmer beneath his skin. “ where's your head, tonight? some of us take our jobs very seriously, you know. ” if he dared refer to himself, the lie would be so easily caught, statement shared with air of wistfulness for the truth. “ i actually have some urgent medical enquiries to follow up on, colleague to colleague. ” tests and theories he'd share just for the definitive answer she would be able to give, the questions themselves working like challenges, puzzles to be solved, yosano more often than not the missing component to the answers. a beat of silence, in which dazai climbed the railing with a short huff once his feet touched safer ground, phone shuffling against his ear before he spoke again, tone a hushed purr. “ why? were you going to do the same? ”