#I think back to the disappointment he felt when he thought Dazai died

[dazai-on-my-mind]

You ever think about how Fyodor was probably a normal and sane person at one point in time. Was he betrayed by someone he once closely trusted only to find himself in the body of his betrayer? How does one stay sane after finding themselves in the very body of their killer?

Do you think he only views people as pawns because he can't risk someone getting close? He can't live with that fear of betrayal always looming over him with every relationship he has.

[nanaaw]

are you happier now? (dazai x reader)

warnings: angst, break up, leaving, portmafia!reader, slight chuuya x reader, fluff at end?

summary: when leaving the port mafia after his best friend died, he left behind his friend and lover, y/n. 

in the port mafia:

you sat mindlessly at the bar, drinking a few beverages with your close friend, akutagawa. more accurately, you were mainly talking with him making short responses. it was a nice day today, or so you thought.

“hey aku, what’s that?” you inquired, hopping off the stool and heading towards a polaroid you spotted. flipping it over, you saw the three familiar faces of the port mafia: oda sakunosuke, ango sakaguchi and dazai osamu. 

this ignited a question in your head. “aku, have you seen osamu today? i don’t think i saw him much since yesterday”. you turned your head towards akutagawa, who was casually drinking beer. 

“no, but from what i remember, dazai-san was on a mission looking for oda-san.” he responded. suddenly, his phone rang. after taking it, akutagawa looked at you with a disappointed expression. “hey... y/n, boss told me to take a mission so i’ll have to leave. we can talk another time?” 

“oh, of course! you better ace the mission, alright? make use of your lessons from your best senpai, me!” you smugly giggled. he smiled before waving and leaving. 

“oof, now i’m alone then... hmm better see what samu’s doing.” you decided to cook some pasta that you recently learnt while waiting for his return. 

----

it was late at night when dazai returned. the soft, cautious footsteps caught your attention while you were training. following the noise, you peeked from the door and saw your boyfriend packing a bag with an empty expression. 

“samu..?” you asked, sleepily. 

he turned to you in surprise before turning back. “y/n.” this surprised you. he would normally greet you with a smile or hug. 

“hey what’s wrong? why’re you packing?” you asked worriedly, walking near him. “are you going somewhere?” an uneasy feeling crawled up your spine as you waited for his reply. nothing.

“osamu, what happpened?” you asked more seriously. he turned to you, cold expression tainted on his face. “listen y/n. i’m leaving. is that not obvious?” a cold tone was laced with his voice. 

“h-huh? you mean on a mission?-” 

“no. the mafia.”

your heart dropped, and you felt as if your life stopped. “what- so suddenly? what about chuuya, what about aku, what about oda and ango?” 

you paused.

“what about me?” 

without turning to you he replied. “there’s nothing that important to me left here anyways. you wouldn’t understand, this is what i have to do.” he replied without giving any details. 

tears welled up in your eyes. “will i see you again though?” your voice broke. 

this wasn’t how you usually were. y/n l/n, one of the port mafia’s best assassins. had the ability to wield many weapons, had a strong power of telekinesis. yet didn’t have the guts to kill anyone. a cheerful and positive girl who gave others hope and fun in their lives. hell, you even helped dazai osamu open up.

“i’m sure you won’t be able to avoid me forever.” 

“dazai osamu, if you just tell me what happened, maybe i can help. or i’ll come with you! i- i love you.” you confessed. 

“there’s nothing you can do to help, l/n.”

you felt defeated. 

blank eyes watched as he packed before heading towards the door. 

“dazai...”

“thank you for the happiness you gave me. i hope you find some place better.” you said, giving him the best smile you could make. 

his hesitation was clear as his hand stopped for it a bit and stilled. his head turned towards you and you could see the slight swirl of regret in his eyes. “thank you. farewell, y/n.” 

those were his last words before he left. your legs felt weak as you collapsed, crying on his bed. you cried yourself to sleep that night, hugging the hoodie he gave you when he told you that he loved you.

heartbreak, one of the worst feelings.

---

4 years later..

you were humming your favourite song as you cooked some cookies for the new person the mafia had held hostage. weird, isn’t it? well, you usually felt bad for them and wanted someone to taste test the desserts you were learning to make.

most of the time, they would be skeptical and refuse, leaving you upset. which is why you always have your best friends chuuya and aku to try them! after packaging them in a tray, you hopped down to the basement. (that’s what it looks like in the anime??)

you could hear the voices of chuuya and the person you’d already recognised as your ex. peeking your head from the staircase, you looked. you could see chuuya aim a knife at dazai’s neck. 

you smirked before activating your power. chuuya and dazai were both perplexed by the knife dancing and wiggling around. anger radiated off chuuya before turning around, facing you. 

“y/n! i was being threatening and you ruined it!” he yelled. this made you burst into laughter. “yeah yeah, tell yourself that.” you skipped towards the two before facing dazai. 

dazai felt a little worried of what you were going to say as you eyed him up and down. “yo, nice coat. i’ve never seen you wear something like that before.” you smiled, raising a thumbs up. “oh yeah, here! try my cookies.”

to be frank, dazai was confused. he broke up with you and you were offering cookies to him. nonetheless, as his usual flirty self, he smirked. “how about you feed them to me since my hands are tied, belladonna. 

you smirked back. “how about you ask chuu to do that. you guys were awfully close just now. i thought you guys were about to kiss.” you teased. after that, you felt a hit to the back of your head.

“shut up n/n, and stop calling me that. it’s weird.” he replied, clearly embarrassed. “why not? it’s cute, and so are you.” you winked at him, his blush deepening. 

dazai watched the interaction, he was happy for you. he wasn’t going to lie and say that he hadn’t had a part of him who still wanted to get to know you, if not as lovers, but just as friends.

“well, i’m going to go check on ryu-kun now! see you guys!” you smiled, holding up a peace sign before running up the stairs. 

chuuya looked at dazai. he was watching your steps up longingly. chuuya thought that maybe if dazai re-entered your life, you would learn how to love people again. just like you used to.

[whorefordazai]

“Us”

ft. Dazai x gn! reader

genre: comfort, fluff

warnings: suicidal themes (?)

word count: 2.2k

synopsis: even though it’s rare for him to express emotions, dazai’s having one of those days where he can’t help but really contemplate if there’s any value to living. The only difference, is that you’re there to give him the comfort he’s craved his whole life. 

Dazai softly exhaled through his nose, lazily grabbing the bottle of whiskey next to him. He brought it up to his lips, taking a long bitter swing. The taste burned his throat, he could practically feel the pungent liquid pouring into his stomach.

God, how he hated that bitter taste so much.

But there was something about that familiar taste, familiar swing of the bottle that comforted him in the emptiest way possible. A small chuckle left his lips. That sounds like something an alcoholic would say...

Was he falling again? He couldn’t fall. But then again, he had always been falling...even though no one could see...actually...Dazai was stuck. Stuck in mid air. There was something that wouldn’t let him fall.

And that something, was you.

“Dazai...?”

His body lay still for a moment—as if wanting to savor these few seconds of silence before he could talk to you. He let his head hang low, a small smirk playing on his lips. Messy brown bangs falling over his forehead, his hazel brown eyes took in your appearance.

“Sorry I was late, Dazai.” You walked into the room and put down the bag of groceries. “I had leftover paperwork to do, and I would’ve called you but my phone died.” You sheepishly scratched the back of your neck, hoping that Dazai wouldn’t be too disappointed.

But then again, he wouldn’t have shown it even if he was disappointed.

“It’s okay,” his lips pulled into a small smile. Shrugging off your coat, you put it to the side and knelt down to sit next to him on the futon.

The futon wasn’t that big, ever since you two started staying with each other—you didn’t really mind the lack of space.

Sitting next to him, you glanced out the big window. The sky was a mix of oranges and reds. The sun was setting. Shoulders brushing and his hand on your thigh, you turned to faced Dazai. Putting a gentle hand on his cheek, you placed a soft kiss on his lips, taking in his familiar scent.

His hands immediately snaked around your waist, pulling you closer. What seemed like minutes went by, and you finally pulled away. Dazai groaned. 

“Hey! I want more kisses. That wasn’t enough for all the lost time.” He fake pouted. You laughed, and kissed him once again. This time, the kiss was deeper.

Pulling away, your foreheads were only centimeters apart from each other when you looked into Dazai’s eyes. He had that amusing smile on his lips.

Your thumb brushed over his brow bone, caressing the skin around his eyes. “You’ve got that glassy look in your eyes again.” You whispered.

It was barely noticeable, but his face dropped for a millisecond. “Oh? What do you mean?” He chuckled.

You tilted your head, a little bit of hair falling over your face. “You’re drinking again.”

He gave smile—but you knew it was a tired one. “But I always drink. You have an issue with me drinking now?” His tone held no hostility to it, it felt more empty than anything.

You raised an eyebrow, shaking your head. “No, definitely not. I don’t have a problem.” You laughed. “Its just that we normally drink together. So I know you’re thinking about something when you’re drinking alone.”

He blinked a couple times, and you smiled again. You brought your finger up to his cheek, softly poking his skin. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me anything. It’s okay, we’re fine.”

Dazai inspected you for a minute. The small smile that tugged on your lips—oh that familiar smile. Your eyes always held that dreamy look in them. It held fierceness too. But it was also blank yet strikingly luminescent. As if you knew everything there was to know in this world, yet you also knew nothing.

Dazai couldn’t help but giggle in his head. You were definitely strange, something he’d never encountered in his entire life. But here he was, sitting next to the one person that was keeping him going.

He bit his lip. “I was just...thinking...”

You rested the side of your head on your knees, facing him. “Actually, I was thinking about some stuff too. I came to a realization.”

Realization? What were you thinking? Did you no longer want to be with him? A sudden race went through Dazai’s heart. You were the only person in the world who he couldn’t 100% predict. And that scared him. That tremendously scared him.

He nevertheless, smiled. “And what was that realization?”

You smiled back and buried you face in your knees, hugging them closely to your chest. Your voice came out muffled. “I can’t say it yet. I’ll have to process it for a few days.”

He raised an eyebrow. Studying your body language made it even more difficult to figure out what was going on in your head. You looked happy, giddy even. Hugging yourself, you looked like a tiny child with a sugar rush.

What were you so happy about? Was it because of him? Dazai couldn’t recall what he had done to make you like this—or if it was because of him in the first place.

He watched as you sat up and rested your head on his shoulder. He instinctively leaned into you. Your eyes kind of dropped—but it wasn’t the sad droop. It felt almost calming.

You intertwined both your hands and kissed his knuckles. Dazai would be lying if he said the tiny gesture didn’t make his stupid heart soar.

“Don’t worry, Dazai. It wasn’t a bad realization. It was a good one—a little scary—but it was a really good one.”

He hated that he released a breath when you clarified your thoughts. Releasing a breath—that meant he was scared to begin with.

“In that case, I’m glad. You look happy.” He softly said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and kissing the top of your head.

“Happy...I’m not sure it’s quite that. I feel...kind of...I can’t even explain it.” You chuckled, rubbing soft circles on Dazai’s knuckles with your thumb.

He was still for a moment, studying you again. But then he gave up. An amused chuckle left his mouth. There was no use trying to study you right now. He dismissed the thought and looked back up at the sunset.

This was enough for him. Just being in each other’s arms, eating crabs, and falling asleep in that rusty old futon that neither of you bothered to change—that was enough for him.

“Say...Dazai. You once asked me if there’s any real value to living.”

He froze. Why had you brought that up now? His mind raced with countless possibilities.

He leaned his head against yours. Caressing your hand in his, he inhaled. For once, he didn’t feel scared. He didn’t feel violated. He didn’t feel as though your eyes were piercing into his thoughts. He felt...at peace.

“And...? Do you think there’s really any value to this thing we called living?”

“Of course not.”

His eyes darted, glancing at you. To his surprise, you looked perfectly normal. Perfectly at peace. In fact, if your eyes weren’t closed he would’ve seen that mischievous glint in them. 

Your voice spoke out like silk running through coarse hands. “There’s no actual value to living. Everything we do in this life could mean nothing wherever we end up. Whether it be the after life, or the fucking end of a simulation.”

Your words felt like a bullet stuck in his heart. Of course you were right. But he had never expected you to say that. He turned his head to face you. “So? If there’s no value to living then why are you still alive, y/n? We could both easily die in a double suicide—“

Oh.

He cut off his own words. Why did he say that? It sounded too harsh. It sounded too real. Too real for him. Of course, he’d jokingly asked you to commit suicide with him plenty of times before. But this time, it felt different. Although, letting out those words made him feel a little comfort—and he hated that. He looked down at you, your eyes were half lidded. The ghost of a smirk playing on your lips.

What had he done? He wasn’t supposed to say that. Odasaku wouldn’t have liked that. Odasaku would’ve said “I reckon that’s something you don’t say to your lover, Dazai.”

He was right. That’s definitely not something you say to the person you love. He fucked up. But then again, you weren’t any ordinary person. If you were ordinary then Dazai would’ve never batted an eye lash at you in the first place. 

“I’m still alive...I’m still living for...” you began to say. You turned your head to face him. Your eyes squeezed a little when you smiled. Hands placing themselves on Dazai’s cheeks, you began to caress his soft skin.

Oh.

He felt his heart physically sink again, if that was even possible. He knew what you were going to say. It was painfully obvious with the way you were holding his face with feather-like touches. The way your eyes held so much warmth when you looked at him. He didn’t deserve it. And neither did you. 

Dazai couldn’t take it. He knew you would say “Dazai...I’m living for you.” And if you said that, he didn’t think his heart would be able to take it. It would hurt too damn much. Goddamn it, why did you ever get yourself involved with someone like him? He wanted to scream out “You deserve someone so much better!” but his throat was dry. Instead, he gulped. His voice wavered a little. Quiet and unable to sound calm. 

“Don’t. Don’t say that you’re living for me.”

The warmth in your eyes didn’t leave, instead confusion was added. You tilted your head, and softly smiled. “I’m not living for you, Dazai.”

Oh.

He didn’t expect you to flat out say that. But it’s what he wanted, right? He was even more confused than before. Part of him...part of him was selfish for wanting you to say you were living for him. Because it was cliche. It was perfectly predictable and safe enough for Dazai to maneuver around.

It wasn’t even for a narcissistic reason. He was expecting it—but you had said the complete opposite. But it’s what he wanted, right? So why did he feel his heart sink again?

This is selfish. Odasaku would be disappointed. He wanted you all to himself...and that was selfish. But then again, Dazai was a selfish man—or so that’s what he thought of himself. How could an angel like you ever love a devil like him?

“Dazai....yoohoo.” you waved a hand in front of his face. When he snapped out of his trance, you chuckled. “I didn’t mean to scare you, silly. You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Let me finish.”

He slowly nodded, eyes coming back into focus. You grasped his hand tighter.

“I...I’m not living for you. But I’m not living for myself either.”

He raised an eyebrow. His voice was smooth while he caressed your hair. “So then. What are you living for, darling?”

“Us. I’m living for us.”

Oh...

He thought his heart would sink like the last few times. But strangely enough...it didn’t. Instead, he felt his body tingle and his head spin from the buzz he was feeling. It felt euphoric.

“But that contradicts what you said...” his voice held curiosity. “You agreed that there’s no value to living.”

You suddenly grinned, moving up to sit on Dazai’s lap, almost straddling him. His hands immediately went to your waist. Grabbing his face, you kissed his lips. Dazai felt you smile into the kiss, and he did as well.

“But Dazai...” you smiled breathlessly, pulling away for air. “How do we know there’s no value to living if we haven’t lived at all?”

His mouth was a little open, eyes slightly wide. You were...you were definitely something he’d never faced in his life. You were something else. You made him feel...feel.

“So, tell me. Have you lived yet?”

You smirked. “Fuck no...I’ve been alive for so many years, yet I haven’t lived at all.” Your thumb brushed his bottom lip, which send shivers down Dazai’s spine. You seemed to draw out the last few words. “But...I think I’m starting to.”

“Y/n...” Dazai whispered. His eyes seemed to lit up. This all felt so good. It felt dangerously real. But so good.

“Dazai...” you smiled. “I love you...”

Dazai smiled again. This wasn’t the first time you both said “I love you” to each other.

You continued. “For the first time in my life...I love you not because I feel like I have to—but because I want to.”

His eyes slightly widened. Was this really happening? Or was this some dream mixed with a sick joke?

No. It was real.

Dazai knew it was real because he felt his fingers slightly shake on your waist. You smiled, leaning back down to kiss him. You placed your hands over his and stopped the shaking. His arms wrapped all the way around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. You hands snaked behind his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“Us...say that again. I like that.” Dazai breathed out, pulling back. This was really happening. He was—he was so lucky. How the fuck did he get so lucky?

Odasaku would’ve been...proud.

You smiled, nodding. You observed his eyes. They were still glassy—but there was something different about them. Something nice. Something you would give your whole life to see over and over again. Something you would like to live for.

“Us.”

tag list: @uwu-monster101 @14th-century-homosexual-spirit @yosanoslut @cross-crye @stylesketches @starglow-xx @ranposlover @bsdwhore @dai-tsukki-desu

[tender-rosiey]

Ahaha- that last post hurt me to a different level. So could you maybe do how Dazai would react if his s/o got resurrected somehow because my heart is in actual pieces. (I love your blog btw your writing is so beautiful)

❥ Losing Game

❥— Fluff continuation to I Can’t

A/N: I am sorry- HERE TO CURE YOUR BEAUTIFUL HEART 😌 also thank you so much luv it means a lot to me I hope I never disappoint you 🥺💘 and I am so sorry it’s late :(

Note: If you haven’t read “I Can’t” then pls do so you can get what has happened before this part ❤️

‘Was it someone you loved?’

‘If it was a woman I loved I would’ve died with her’

Dazai was walking towards the grave of his beloved as he recalled the conversation between him and his subordinate.

How long has it been since her death? 7 years? Even so, he couldn’t get her out of his mind and he didn’t want to.

The only person who fully understood him, he didn’t want her memory to be separated from his thoughts ever.

But he is worried, all of those around him that knew of her are asking “Shouldn’t you move on?” And his answer was always a stern no and explaining how they wouldn’t get what you meant to him.

He still had an ounce of hope, but for what? You practically died in front of his arms and he buried you with his own hands. What hope is he clinging to? No one knew and neither did he.

He walked again today towards your grave, the exchange with Atsushi made him think about things more. Should he really give up? No, he told himself. He was known for getting what he wanted and he will get it even it’s impossible.

He rested his back against the rock with your name, a name he loved and still loves saying at any given moment. He closed his eyes bracing himself for the numerous thoughts about to cloud his mind.

Whenever he neared towards your presence his walls would crumble like dust and as much as he despised it because it painted him as weak, he loved being able to be free with his emotions with you.

“Osamu?”

He chuckled, he really lost it to the point he is hearing your sweet voice dripping with honey. He felt a gentle hand caress his cheeks, with a touch he felt all too familiar with and placed his on top of it.

“Dear, open your eyes.” Her voice called out which he was scared to do. Is it trying to drag him to the reality where you don’t exist? He really wanted to listen to it and do as it said.

But for the first time in a while Dazai is scared about what the future has for him.

He slowly opens his eyes waiting for the landscape from where he is to appear only to be met with your loving eyes and soft smile. “I am home, my love.” You spoke as if you had been only traveling for a month.

He latched onto you like his life depended on it and it did. Millions of questions were scrambled onto his mind but all he wished for that this was really you and that the warmth he is feeling isn’t a facade.

“Y/N, how?...” he muttered as you wiped his tears that he unconsciously shed for the second time for you. His walls always crumbled before you without him noticing. He still didn’t believe his eyes and he wanted to make sure it’s not fake with all his might yet he still feared the truth.

“Dazai-san, who is that lady with you?” He heard the white-haired male ask and that made his heart rest for a while. He isn’t hallucinating; you really are here. He latched onto you once again and buried his face into your shoulder, he didn’t want Atsushi to see him like this.

Few days passed ever since, he has been enjoying his time to the fullest with you but while his heart was happy his mind wasn’t. He was desperately in need of an explanation of your resurrection which is why he decided he would ask you today.

If you are a fake then at least he managed to experience your warmth once again and if you are the true love of his life then maybe he can look forward to the future of his life that he had viewed as bleak.

“Dearest, I am more than joyful to have you by my side again, but can you tell me how exactly did you come back to life?”

And so you began your explanation with a soft smile while running your hand through his silk like hair. By the end of it, the picture became clearer. Your body was found by a person who had somewhat the same ability as Yosano.

And that person had witnessed the massacre Dazai caused that time for your sake, and he decided it’s probably better to help and bring you back to him. He couldn’t do it while you were still in Dazai’s arm breathing, however, because his ability was to bring a dead person to life but they had to be completely lifeless.

The man’s ability was a curse to him yet he used it. Yes he was given the power to bring life, but it was in the cost of his own.

You told Dazai that when you woke up you found a man lying beside you as pale as white. And that you noticed that Dazai wasn’t anywhere nearby. And since you couldn’t find him, you started living your own life searching for him until you were able to find him a few days ago.

Dazai thought hoping for your warmth would be a lost cause, a game of continuous loss but somehow he was blessed to have you back in his life. Despite the fact that he was fully aware about his love for you, he never told you those three words. He was scared to tell you even while you reminded him that you loved him everyday.

Now that you are before him, a beautiful young lady that was once a teenager that bloomed into a full flower that is a sight for sore eyes. He decided that the losing game he was in played out for far too long. You had to know before you disappear again.

“Y/N, I love you.”

copyright © 2020 tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[straycat-writes]

to ever let you go (nakahara chuuya)

summary: two years is a long time, enough for a person to go through hell and back. chuuya learns that the hard way.

notes: there’s mild swearing and non-graphic mentions of injury. before you ask, yes, there is (eventually) going to be a part two.

Chuuya has never liked taking the elevator. Most of the time, it’s too cramped, and too shaky, and too bright and – too this or too that, he tells himself. In truth, he just doesn’t like closed spaces.

Unfortunately for him, Mori’s office is on the very top floor of the building that houses the Port Mafia headquarters. Fitting for the boss of the Port Mafia, but a pain in the ass for Chuuya. Nevertheless, when Mori calls, he goes. It’s not like he has a choice.

“Chuuya-kun, I would like you to come see me at your earliest convenience. Something rather…important has turned up.”

Chuuya had been with the mafia long enough to know that ‘at your earliest convenience’ meant drop everything and come right now’. He stepped out of the elevator, hands jammed into his pockets, and sighed. Something rather important, huh?

The armed guards stationed outside the door took one look at him and left way immediately, and a self-satisfied smile almost made its way onto Chuuya’s face. It made his day when people cower before him when he hasn’t even done anything yet.

“Good evening, boss. How may – “

The rest of the words died in his throat.

The blinds on the floor-to-ceiling windows were drawn, like always, obscuring the sky and leaving the space to be illuminated only by the soft interior lights. Mori was sitting behind his desk, elbows resting on it and fingers steepled below his chin. And in front of the desk…there was her.

“Ah, Chuuya-kun, how considerate of you to join us.” Mori said with calm, calculated smile, “Would you perhaps like to sit down for a while?”

Chuuya didn’t answer. He couldn’t have had, even if he wanted to, his throat had suddenly gone too dry. There she was. Standing there with her hands clasped behind her back, alive and well.

On second thought, the ‘well’ part was debatable. She looked pale and haggard, with scars littering almost every inch of exposed skin. Her stance was slightly slouched too, as if she was unconsciously trying to disappear into herself. When she turned to look at him, however, his heart almost stops. Why did her eyes look like that?

“(Y-y/n)?” his voice came out scratchy, almost cracking, and he couldn’t stop staring at her with eyes wide enough to almost pop out of their sockets.

She didn’t reply, instead quietly turning away and looking straight ahead. A million thoughts and assumptions swarmed Chuuya’s head at once, almost overwhelming him. He couldn’t think straight. So, naturally, he thought he’d do what he did best. Yell.

“It’s been two fucking years, where the hell were you all this time!?”

When she had first disappeared two years ago, shortly after being deployed for a mission, Chuuya had dedicated everything he had to looking for her. He searched high and low and despite pressure from the higher ups, he didn’t stop until he had turned most of the country inside out. But after almost a year of trying and trying and still coming up empty, he had grown weary.

On particularly bad nights, he had even wondered if she too had pulled a Dazai and got the fuck out of there, leaving him behind. If she too had abandoned him and betrayed him like his partner once had. The thought left a bad taste in his mouth but he thought he’d prefer that to the alternative. That she was lying dead in a ditch somewhere.

Chuuya had never even considered there could be a third option.

When she didn’t react, Chuuya got more anxious, and despite trying his best not to, took two successive steps towards her, “Answer me!”

It was only when she flinched back that he stopped, mid-stride. And for the first time since entering the room, he took a long, proper look at her. The shadows underneath her eyes were deeper than he had expected them to be, and she seemed to be curling in on herself where she stood, as if trying to take as little space as possible.

Chuuya took a step back. “What… what happened to you?”

With lacklustre eyes, she looked at him, face completely devoid of any expression. Then she spoke to him for the first time in two years.

“What do you think?”

Chuuya faltered, not knowing what to say or do. Even her voice sounded scratchy, deeper somehow and yet with a paper-thin quality to it. Nothing like the syrupy sweet velvet he remembered it to be. A million possible scenarios and explanations ran through his head before being consecutively discarded.

Perhaps taking pity on his dilemma, Mori, who had been sitting behind his desk all this time, observing the two of them with a calm, calculating gaze and an amused smile, finally decided that it was time to intervene.

“Chuuya-kun, do you remember the operation (y/n) was handling two years ago just before she, er, disappeared?”

Chuuya frowned. “I do. She was supposed to be gathering intel on this enemy organization that was interfering with our overseas businesses.”

“Yes, well… Turns out they were just as desperate for intel on us.”

“Don’t tell me… “ Chuuya’s eyes widened as he tore his gaze away from Mori to look back at her. “You were being held as a prisoner? For two fucking years?”

“Now, now,” Mori tried to placate him. “No need to raise your voice. As you can see, (y/n) is still… recuperating.”

Out of the corer of his eye, Chuuya could see a steely, bemused smile on Mori’s face, one that did not sit well with him at all. But this wasn’t the time to focus on that. He looked back at you.

“I’m… (y/n), I don’t know what to say, I looked for you everywhere.” He said. “I looked for you for months… “ There was silence for a few short seconds, before she spoke.

“Well, clearly you didn’t look hard enough.”

The words weren’t loud or even containing any particular malice, but the moment they left her lips, Chuuya felt like he couldn’t breathe. Because she sounded disappointed. Resigned and hollow. Most of all, she just sounded sad.

Mori’s voice cut through his thoughts once more like a hot wire. “That’s enough chit-chat for now, I think.” He looked at both of them in turn. “Why don’t you take her to stay with you for a while, Chuuya-kun? You two did use to be rather close. Besides, I really don’t think (y/n) should be left alone in such a state.”

For some reason, Chuuya’s blood boiled in his veins. He wasn’t stupid. There was absolutely no way Mori didn’t know where she had been all this time. But if so, why didn’t he say anything? Did it benefit him somehow? Did he plan it all out? He wouldn’t put it past the crafty bastard. But for now…

“Yes, boss, I think that would be the wisest course of action.”

When he turned to her and held out his hand, she just looked at for a long time, scrutinizing it as if wondering what trick he might pull. But instead of insisting or saying anything, Chuuya just waited patiently for her to come around. He could still see that smile fixed on Mori’s face as he watched the events unfold in front of him, and oh, what Chuuya wouldn’t have given in that moment to be able to wipe that smug grin off his face.

Eventually, she took one last look at him once more before finally accepting his hand. Chuuya didn’t dare pull her closer or even hold her hand tighter for the fear of breaking it. At this point, he couldn’t be sure how fragile she was or wasn’t.

On light steps, they left the dark office together. The girl currently holding onto his hand wasn’t (y/n). Or at least, she wasn’t the same (y/n) he had lost two years ago. He had failed that girl when he had been unable to bring her back safe.

But Chuuya swore he would correct every mistake he had ever made. He would get her back.

[maryniss]

Wine, Kids and Italian Rock

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Summary: Chuuya and Maneskin. That’s it.

Relationships: Dazai Osamu X Nakahara Chuuya 

Tags: Fluff, Maneskin, Soukoku adopted Child, dazai and chuuya are amazing dads

Notes: embarrassed  myself further on here too, you know

Because a glass of wine and some good music could solve everything; Chuuya didn’t think so, he knew it from experience. He threw the keys from his apartment somewhere far away; he will regret it later, but at that moment it didn’t really seem to be something important. He took his coat off and this time he was more careful with it and gently laid it down onto the couch from his big living room. He sighed and massaged his temples before dropping to one knee and pulling out a bottle of wine from his drawer and a glass.

“Dada!”

A small voice rang through the apartment and Chuuya’s first reaction was to hide the wine, but it was too late. The little devil saw it first.

“Dada, dada, drinking juice again? Why you can and I can’t? You always say I am going to get a stomachache.” Chuuya rose to his feet and put the glass and the bottle down onto the small table. He then ruffled the girl’s dark hair; his girl’s hair because now it was his, his child and he couldn’t be happier. The little one smiled showing her small teeth and Chuuya shivered. Little kids sure were terrifying and he would love to not experience if they could protect themselves or not.

“No, honey, this is different, uhm… When you grow up, you will also be able to drink without getting stomachaches.” The little girl pouted as he filled his glass.

The sun has long been gone from the sky and now that he was thinking… Klara should have also been in bed for some time. He sighed and put the glass back onto the table and took the little girl into his arms. She giggled and Chuuya smiled.

“Where is your papa, dear?” The girl looked away and Chuuya looked in the direction of the bedroom knowingly.

“He has fallen asleep again, didn’t he?” Klara still didn’t look at him, but she nodded, almost as if she was terrified her papa would get in trouble if she got his secret out. Chuuya kissed Karla on the cheek and let her down from his arms.

“And wouldn’t you also like to go to sleep?” Klara shook her head, but before she could say anything else Chuuya whoosh-ed her to go to bed, gently pushing her from behind.

“Darling, go and then dada will come too.” But the girl was still as a stone and Chuuya was still afraid of her sharp-like teeth. He groaned and he then gave up. Chuuya put his hands on his shoulders and looked authoritatively at Klara that only beamed at him, a golden aura surrounding her.

Chuuya’s heart melted at the sight. Chuuya’s heart ached at the sight.

“Ok, but you won’t stay much longer…”

“Dada! Dada!” Chuuya sipped from his glass of wine and closed his eyes.

“Yes, love?”

“Papa told me…”  Klara leaned over and whispered into Chuuya’s ear something even the moon and the stars that could be seen from Chuuya’s apartment were curious about. After the girl finished what he had to say, Chuuya lazily opened his eyes and smirked and now the moon and the stars were even more curious.

“So that’s what he said?” Klara nodded energetically, fidgeting somehow nervously with her small hands.

“He told me that you would get angry if I told you about this, but I couldn’t resist, Dada!”

Chuuya smiled because he was too tired to actually do something else. His mind was filled with the blurry images of younger versions of both him and Dazai, drunk or high, or maybe both, dancing almost naked on the tables of a bar in Paris, swimming together under the shy moon, images of them smiling and then….

‘That bastard.’

Chuuya hmph-ed and he leaned back on the sofa.

“I could never get angry at you, honey. I really love you so you know,” murmured he. His conscience was telling him to not go to sleep, to not leave a child alone in an apartment with an open wine bottle, to not let his child alone in an apartment with an open wine bottle…

But he was so sleepy! So tired, his eyelids felt dry and he didn’t want anything more than to keep them closed forever.

“Dada, dada, let’s dance together!” The next thing Chuuya knew, he was on the floor and Klara was throwing small punches at him, surprisingly strong ones for a three year old kid.

“Only the will I go to sleep, Dada! Come on, come on!” shouted she as she tried to pull Chuuya up onto his feet. Chuuya was feeling dizzy and he got up with a lot of effort, his eyes hazy, sleep still lingering onto his persona.

“But, sweetie…” he yawned and he dragged his feet to where his daughter was leading him. “ Sweetie, dada is tired… FUCK!” Chuuya slapped his mouth as soon as that word left his mouth. He made a pact with Klara; if he would ever to swear, then he would have to put a dollar into a bank account that it would later be hers. Chuuya hadn’t paid very much attention when the girl asked him about it; and now he totally regretted it.

He also had to keep his promise. How would it look if he didn’t? Every father wanted to be the hero of their children, every father wanted to be the best in their eyes.

But how could Chuuya not swear when the fucking keys literally stabbed hit foot?? When he threw his key, he knew he would regret it.

Now he did. With all of his heart. And every nerve in his body that stopped him from throwing the key out of the window.

“Dada…” Klara looked at him disappointed and his heart squeezed. He then hurried his daughter in the living room.

“So, you wanted to dance?” Klara didn’t forgot, of course the little devil didn’t, but she decided to save her father some face and screamed:

“Yes! Let’s dance, Dada!” Chuuya smiled and sighed; he escaped a disaster.

“Ok the, let’s see… Ah, yeah perfect!” He smiled as the music filled the room.

Did Dazai sleep right in the room next to him? Did Chuuya care? Maybe. Did he turn the volume at max? Yes.

Klara seemed to be enjoying the music, smiling and dancing clumsily, clearly not familiar with the genre. But she was still laughing and she still was Chuuya’s daughter and he hoped moments like these could last forever and he hoped that she would never grow up and he hoped she will come back to him like this, he hoped that she will forever be his daughter and maybe while Chuuya watched her trying to dance, a tear slipped from his eye. Maybe, because he was facing the moon backwards and no one could ever know.

His heart was already a dark sea.

“Darling, come here!” shouted Chuuya over the music as Klara jumped into his arms. He spun around with her and she giggled and Chuuya laughed whole heartedly. He took her small hand into his and looked into her eyes and sang and screamed at the same time.

Sono fuori di testa, ma diverso da loro E tu sei fuori di testa, ma diversa da loro Siamo fuori di testa, ma diversi da loro Siamo fuori di testa, ma diversi da loro  

Klara also screamed something incorrigible and she almost bumped her head into Chuuya’s.

“Turn that off!” Chuuya looked over to see Dazai standing in the door, his arms crossed to his chest, his hair still ruffled from his early sleep.

‘Cute.’

Chuuya only smirked mischievously at him and bent his knees, imitating a guitar and screaming some random Italian phrases with Klara still into his arms. The girl laughed and sometimes hiccupped and Dazai’s heart ached so bad that he thought he might just claw it out from his chest.

His two universes; so pathetic; he couldn’t believe that his world really was so small. He was disappointed in himself. He was loving himself for what he was.

Chuuya was flying a little bit above the ground now, completely lost, completely disconnected from the world.

The song came to an end and he sat down with Klara still into his arms. The girl had fallen asleep somehow. Dazai moved to take her into his arms.

“I’m going to put her into bed.” He tried to push away the images of a younger Chuuya and a younger he fooling into a bar from Paris, he tried to push away the thought of them swimming together and he didn’t succeed.

Chuuya was sweaty and exhausted and he gladly handed over the little devil.

“Go and take a shower,” whispered Dazai as he walked with Klara into his arms towards the bedroom. “Also your taste in music is shit.” Chuuya laughed and then a long silence followed.

“Pour me a glass of wine and wait for me.”

Because a glass of wine and some good music could solve everything; Chuuya didn’t think so, he knew it from experience.

   Notes: yes they did fuck on maneskin songs that night

[soukokuwu]

NAKAHARA CHUUYA

TO CATCH A DREAM

》 fluff, for a change

》 word count: 2.3k

》 one of the prompts my sweet anon sent me, hope this isn’t too disappointing! (i’m also going to work on your other suggestions)

》 also, to the other anons— yes I’ll work on the Fyodor and Gogol requests too

“it takes you by surprise”

It had been, what, three years since you’ve left the Port Mafia? Why was it still causing an emptiness within you? Yes, it had been your home since you could remember, you practically grew up in the mafia. But Mori had practically sent Oda to his death. You had thought the world of Mori, admired him and his witty ways, how he managed to command the respect of such a huge organisation. But sending Oda into a suicide mission? Letting slip of the orphans under his care, using their death as a form of ‘motivation’?

That was too much. Way too much.

You weren’t close to Oda, not by a mile. You’ve only seen him interact with Dazai a few times, and other times you’ve only heard about Dazai rambling on about them drinking in Lupin. But you had heard enough about Oda to gain a certain amount of admiration for the man. He was part of the mafia, and yet you knew he could do much better.

His death led to Dazai’s departure from the Port Mafia. And yours.

The day he died, Dazai had visited you in the wee hours of the night, drunk and upset. He had told you everything. What Mori did, why he did it, what happened to Oda and what his last words were. It was the first and only time you’ve ever seen your best friend so distraught. You were in disbelief, but there was no denying– Mori could be that despicable.

You had packed up all your belongings and left with your best friend. It wouldn’t have been such a hard decision if there wasn’t anybody you would miss, but there was. And you couldn’t even warn him, you didn’t want to put him on the spot. If you told him you would leave, either one or two things would happen: he would help you keep it a secret or he would try to stop you. Both of it would end horribly, and you didn’t want to affect his life negatively. The Port Mafia was his home, the one place he felt that he belonged, and you didn’t want to take that away from him.

It had been three long years after you left the mafia and Yokohama. But now that you were back in the city, you felt emptier than you thought you would. As you took a seat on the ground, you peered out into the open sea. You remembered the last time you were here. With him. It was the last time you saw him before you left the mafia.

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

“Do I finally get to call you mine?”

You shook your head at the redhead, exasperated, chuckling silently as you playfully pushed him. “Do you not get tired of asking me that?”

“Oh someone is still adamant on rejecting me, huh?” he droned on dramatically. The ginger poured some wine into your glass and looked up to the sky, pondering out loud, “Why doesn’t this beautiful lady want to be Mrs. Nakahara Chuuya?”

“Oh shut up,” you groaned, cringing at how cheesy he was being.

You got to know him through Dazai, since they had become partners, and he had transitioned into a dear friend of yours. It was always endearing to watch them squabble. Like two proud people who would never admit they actually work well together.

You remembered laughing a lot that night, wishing more nights could be like that. It was filled with innocent wonderment, the light brushing of your arms against his. The two of you were much more than friends and everyone could see that, but your aversion to anything that made you happy always reared its ugly head somehow.

The way you managed to ruin everything that made you happy the moment you obtained them– you didn’t want it to happen with Chuuya. You wanted him with you, forever, even if it meant you two weren’t together.

That night was filled with drinking wine and chilling by the seaside, talking about anything and everything all at once. You remembered laughing more than you did all day, and enjoying yourself more than you thought you could.

It ended when he realised you were getting a little too inebriated. He didn’t want you to be feeling too hungover the next day, he didn’t want it to affect your work. If you wanted to get wasted he would always entertain you on the weekends.

“Okay, we’re all out of wine tonight, let’s head back.”

“But I don’t want to,” you whined. You weren’t drunk at all, just a little light-headed. But you drank enough to be shamelessly honest. The normal you would not admit you enjoy the redhead’s company, but now the words were coming out unfiltered.

“Come,” Chuuya said, holding out his hand, patiently waiting for you to accept it.

You looked at him, dubious. “Come where?”

He sighed, hands reaching down to help you up, to which you resignedly complied. “I’m taking you home.”

A wave of surprise came over him as you replied, “As long as it’s you.”

Minutes later, you were clinging onto Chuuya for dear life. This was not what you had in mind when he said he’d take you home. You were practically standing on a small piece of land flying over the city, made possible thanks to Chuuya and his gravity manipulation. Thank god you didn’t drink that much, if not you were sure you’d be puking all over the city right now.

You were too busy burying your head in the crook of his neck to notice how much Chuuya was enjoying this. He was grinning widely, surprised to find that you were afraid of heights. Your face was all scrunched up in such an adorable expression of fear, and your hair was flowing so elegantly due to the wind. He tried to ignore the feelings bubbling up inside him, well aware you would only try to bury any that you harboured for him. If this was the only kind of intimacy he could afford with you, he would take it. He would enjoy this moment, hugging you and feeling your touch in return. This was better than nothing.

The trip home was quick, and you found yourself a little disappointed after pulling yourself away from Chuuya. He ruffled your hair affectionately after noticing your disheartened reaction. Why would you keep pushing him away when it’s evident that you wanted more? He always questioned himself of that, not that he ever allowed himself to actually ask you. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel uncomfortable.

“Get some rest, okay?”

“Yes, dad,” you mocked, sticking your tongue out.

Chuuya couldn’t help himself. He laughed at how adorable you were being, ruffled your hair, and let a ‘cute’ slip out. Your eyes widened, astonished by the sudden compliment. It was funny, Chuuya had thought he would be more embarrassed, but somehow he liked this. Being able to tell you how he felt– he liked it. His grin turned into a soft smile as he gazed at you, ruffling your hair, before leaning down to place a kiss atop your head.

“Goodnight.”

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

Your heart beat faster as you recalled his tender kiss. It was pure, which made it all the more precious. You knew you were still in love with him, but that was something you had tried to keep buried deep within you. It was hard enough getting you to admit that to yourself while you were in the mafia, it would be even harder now that you were practically a fugitive. You managed to always give yourself an excuse, claiming that if it was supposed to be then it would happen.

Maybe it wasn’t meant to be after all.

The sun was setting over the horizon. The sky was painted in mesmerising orange hues. It felt calming, tranquil. You looked at your watch. It was almost seven. Time to get going. Dazai would start drinking without you at this rate. You got up and stretched, excited about meeting your best friend after three long years apart. You had heard he found a nice job and you couldn’t wait to get to know all about this new Dazai. With a slight skip in your step, you walked off.

“Who are you so excited to see?”

You froze at the friendly voice. The voice you’ve wanted to hear ever since you left. His shadow got closer to yours, and you could smell the familiar musky scent. You were stuck rooted to the spot, uncertain of what to do.

What was the best course of action here? It wasn’t like you could outrun him. You were still a Port Mafia fugitive, and he was still a Port Mafia executive, one very doted on by Mori himself at that. What if Mori found out you were here? What if he sent Chuuya here to test his loyalty? It would result in so much trouble. As much as Chuuya used to be intimate with you, you knew his role as executive would always come first to him. There was no escape if they already found you. Should you just jump in the river and hope you drown?

“Hey, I asked you something,” the redhead muttered impatiently. Once he realised you were too deep in thought to listen, he stepped closer toward you. Why are you shivering?

Panic was still afire in your mind. It was always a bad trait of yours. You weren’t very quick at thinking on your feet. Your mind was whirling through hundreds of different scenarios, but what happened next wasn’t something you would’ve thought of.

Arms embraced you from behind. From the corner of your eye you could make out his ginger hair, and you could feel his cheek against yours. His face was tilted in toward your neck, and you could feel his shallow breathing, your ears turning beet red from the proximity. You could feel his heart beat as he gently squeezed you, seemingly not wanting to let go. You had dreamt about this reunion countless times before, and now it was finally real.

“I- I was going to meet Dazai for a drink,” you choked out, half-surprised and half-terrified.

“Don’t be like that,” his warm, velvety voice pleaded.

The warmth in his tone calmed you down enough to make you stop overthinking the situation. If he was here to kill you, he would do it. If you ran, he would catch you in the end. Any kind of resistance would be futile. Any way this situation played out, you would be at his mercy. You might as well face your old friend genuinely. So you turned around, catching sight of that familiar face of home.

“Be like what?”

“Afraid of me,” he muttered. You could almost melt at his soft puppy-like expression. It almost looked like it pained him to see you. You wanted to assure him that you weren’t— not anymore, but you couldn’t get the words out. You were too happy. Tears were forming in your eyes. You didn’t even realise you had started smiling sweetly up at him.

Chuuya finally saw the smile that had been haunting him for years, the smile that he thought he’d never get to see again, the one he could only imagine being the reason behind. Now here it was, standing in front of him, and it was more magical than he thought it would be. He felt the glee building up inside him. The lady he was in love with since he first got to know her, the one that gripped his heart the instant he caught a glimpse of her smile and heard her laugh— she was back, and very real. This was not in his head. He enveloped you in another hug, a tighter one.

“Ditch him.”

“What?”

“Screw that shitty Dazai.” The ginger tucked your hair behind your ears before cupping your face with his gloved hands. “This time, come with me.”

There was a fire in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. Right in this moment, he was determined.

“But what about the mafia?”

“Mori let you go,” Chuuya stated, much to your surprise. “He asked me what we should do the moment you and that bastard left. I told him you were just an assistant medic. You knew next to nothing about the Port Mafia’s top secrets. But I also told him that if you threatened our existence that I would be the one who would stop you. It pacified him enough.”

So that’s why nothing bad ever happened to you by their hands. Right till the end, even after you left, Chuuya still protected you. It didn’t take a genius to see how betrayed Chuuya felt after he heard you had left with his partner with not so much as even a warning. No note, no explanation. He figured out why you left, Dazai was your best friend after all and he knew Oda was someone you looked up to from afar. It didn’t ease his anger, though, because your wordless departure had left him feeling fucked up even months after. It was as though you thought he wasn’t worth any explanation. He had thought that he could never forgive you for leaving, but now that you were together again he forgot he ever got mad at you.

Slowly, Chuuya inched toward you, his face drawing closer. When there was barely any space between the two of you, he stopped to ask, “So what do you say?”

“Okay, let me-” Just as you were reaching for your phone to postpone your plans with Dazai, hands pulled you toward them, crushing their lips with yours. It was soft and loving, patient and sweet— everything you imagined and more. Your brain was screaming at you to push him away, reminding you of the endless possibilities of how this could all go wrong, why you should protect yourself from it. But this time, your heart had reign over you. You were back in Yokohama and you were here to stay. Maybe this warranted you a chance to make yourself happy, to stop pushing his affections away.

Chuuya stopped the kiss, slowly pulling himself away, eyes fondly looking into yours. His hand was still holding the back of your neck and his heart was still filled with overwhelming exhilaration at your return. “I’d love to catch up but first things first,” he said in between breaths as he continued kissing you, “are you going to stay with me this time?”

“Always.”

“That’s my girl.”

“there is no other”

[masked-buffoon]

Chapter 8: The withering flower (Part 5)

Warnings: none

Author notes : Ogawa comes back to the Port Mafia... What kind of welcome do you think she’ll receive?

The back alleys of Yokohama felt like home, I knew every single shortcut and dead-end, it was not hard to find my way back toward the headquarters. As the automatic sliding doors opened onto me, a wave of muttering erupted in the hall, among the henchmen on a break or guarding the entrance. Rumours of my death had apparently spread among the members of the underground organisation, and seeing me well-alive was not to everyone's taste. I headed toward Akutagawa's office, where he never spent time, but where I knew I could find Higuchi. The poor woman was often stuck doing paperwork, much like how I used to be with Dazai. She would be able to tell me if my name still belonged to the Port Mafia.

"Ogawa-san...?" Her face lit up as she saw me "You're alive...!"

"Blood and flesh." I hummed "So, am I still alive for the Mafia, too...?"

"Oh, you are." She answered my question "Senpai knew you would never lose your life if you were with 'that person'... But he fired you from the squadron."

"Fired me...?" I frowned "What does that mean?"

"You do not work under him anymore." She explained, running a hand through her messy blonde hair "But don't worry, Ogawa-san...! Nakahara-san successfully promoted you to lieutenant under his orders...! But I wonder... Why such an important position so early...?"

"Why... That's what I used to be, after all... He's only giving me my former position back." I told her.

"Your former — wait, how could you be demoted...?"

"I would gladly tell you that story around a cup of coffee, someday." I smiled "For now... Would you mind telling me where Akutagwa is, please?"

"Sure… He said he was in the training room…" She recalled.

"Thank you… Stay well, Higuchi." I glanced over my shoulder as I exited the office.

"So do you, Ogawa-san."

The elevator climbed toward one of the highest floors of the headquarters. The familiar corridor appeared in my field of view as the doors opened and I carefully walked onto the fancy carpet. Nothing had really changed, except that Dazai's office was still empty and remained untouched. I decided to stop by, taking a quick look inside. The atmosphere was still the same, quiet and comfortable, and nothing had been moved. It was exactly as he had left it... I let my fingers wander on the back of the couch, remembering how its leather would make the best bed when I was given sleep... Those days were gone, now... And they would never come back again, unless I decided to make a move toward him. However, if I were to drape myself into this simulacre of happiness, would I not be deceived by the same man again...? I had no way to know if he was being honest toward me... I had assured Odasaku that I would stay by Dazai's side, but as he had left me, could I not go back and forget about everything...? Somehow, I felt those memories would last forever in my mind, engraved even deeper than any physical scar. I could simply not ignore that I had felt happy around him, and it was human to desire tasting such happiness again, even if I could be disappointed afterwards. But if I did not try... No, I wanted to be happy again... I wanted to spend time by this person's side, because he was my reason to live, because I could not keep breathing without his presence near me. There was no point in seeing tomorrow if he could not see it with me...

I closed the door behind me and headed toward Nakahara-san's office. I had made a decision to follow Dazai… It was regrettable, but I would have to turn down the executive's offer for a job. I knocked and was immediately ordered to come in.

"I was expecting you, Ogawa-kun." He looked up at me.

His office was different from Dazai's. It was way more fancy, more sparkly and more... Customised. In the corner, I could not help noticing the wine cave, where he surely kept a few of his favourite expensive bottles. Well, at least, his paperwork seemed done and classified, and his desk was devoid of any trace of feet.

"Did you not believe I was dead...?" I questioned, sitting in front of him.

"How could I? If you met the bastard, he would not let you die so easily. Besides, I believed you would come back to me and got out of my way to get you this job. How do you like it?" He grinned, leaning onto the back of his chair proudly.

"I am really grateful." I nodded at him "Thank you for promoting me..."

"It was your previous rank..." He remembered "I thought it was pretty unfair. I'll prove to the Boss you need not be called disposable anymore."

"Unfortunately, we both know I'm not going to last much longer..." I murmured "Do you still want me to work under you, knowing such a fact...?"

"I do." He affirmed "You were the mackerel's lieutenant, he regularly entrusted you with difficult missions and I remember your strategies were excellent, although it is painful to admit he taught you well… You are fit for the job, even if you have to die soon, your place is there. Besides, we've already talked about it. I'm not that keen on being your superior."

"Even so…" I sighed "I am grateful… I struggled to get by your side, and yet… I cannot accept your offer… Not anymore…"

"Then, I'll have to give you this, I suppose." He handed me a document "You encountered the bandage wasting device, it is obvious that keeping you there is pointless."

"An official authorisation to leave the Port Mafia...?!" My eyes widened "How...? Why...?"

"You've been living solely to see him again..." Nakahara-san crossed his arms "If you were not so determined to meet him again, I am certain you would have died long ago, but you're still living, and you have this new kind of light in your eyes. You hope again, and I figured you would like to be by his side more than staying there until death gets you. Besides, it was easy. Since I'm an executive."

I smiled sincerely at him, extremely grateful he had thought about me to this extent.

"I am touched..." I said "How can I ever repay you for this kindness...?"

"Three things; you stay alive no matter what, you tell that bandage wasting device that I'll definitely kill him, and you call me Chūya. That's all I ask as a payment." He stated.

"Thank you, Chūya..." I smiled "I will not die so easily..."

"I hope so." He smirked, crossing his arm "Good luck out there. It won't be easy."

"Yes… Mmh… May I be so bold as to ask you for a last favour…?"

"What is it, Ogawa?"

"Could you… Could you keep an eye on Akutagawa, please…?

You are a good person, finally..."

"I-I'm not!! I'm a ruthless executive...!! Leave before I'm really pissed off...!!"

[hnnnfdfds]

You wouldn't happen to want to do 56 with dazatsu because *soft scream* also I really enjoy seeing these short fics on my dash!!

!!!!! 

Sorry, I just really admire you so I kind of died when I saw this ask fdsfsd. Thank you so much, I really admire your writing as well!!!

Thank you for the request as well, Anon. I already did 36 so I went with 56. Also, let me know if 1000 words are too much and I should put a read more link on top @/anyone.

Feel free to send requests!

 —

56. Someone accepting the bad parts of you without judging // Dazatsu

—

It’s a heavyweight in his chest, chains wrapped around his heart, and needles piercing through his bones. He’s drowning without drowning and that scares him if he’s honest. Losing his breath, his steadiness, something.

“Do I look like such a good person?”

“Yes, why?” 

It’s not like his world stops upon hearing those words or everything he believes in changes suddenly. It’s not like he doesn’t feel like he’s torn apart in dirt and ashes anymore. It’s not like he doesn’t feel as if everything he brushes will burn down or fall apart with time anymore, it’s not like he doesn’t feel he’s chained anymore but—

But for a moment—just one moment—he hears the other’s voice clearly as if he’s not underwater.

✮☽✮

“Dazai-san,” a voice calls out and he opens his eyes, glancing to the side.

He’s been trying to take a nap but in the end, he just couldn’t drift off so he kept thinking about some things instead.

The boy standing in front of him is one of them.

“Atsushi-kun, what brings you to my humble corner?”

The weretiger smiles warmly at him, tilting his head a bit as he answers, “Everyone’s done with their work. It’s time to go.”

Dazai sits up and glances around the office, noting that everyone but them is gone. He let time pass him once again. Shaking his head slightly, he lets his mouth settle into a pout. 

“And no one bothered to tell me earlier?”

Atsushi chuckles at him. “No, they all thought you were sleeping.”

Ah, that makes sense but then…

“And you didn’t think so as well, Atsushi-kun?”

“Of course not,” the other replies, turning around to get his bag.

“… And why is that?”

The other turns around and stares directly into his eyes. 

“I doubt you’d be able to sleep here, Dazai-san.” 

Seconds pass as the other turns back to his bag. Seconds pass Dazai looks at the other’s back. Seconds pass as the chains keep tugging and tugging. 

It’s happening again he realizes as he feels the familiar piercing through his body, the way everything seems to get heavier. It makes him wonder, really, if he’s going to fall down at any moment and realize that he’s dead or wake up at any moment without knowing who Atsushi is. He’d be lying if he said he couldn’t handle the weight and the chains, couldn’t push the thoughts away. He’s been doing it for years after all.

It’s just that at some point—after Odasaku died, after two useless years, after he met Atsushi—he stopped trying to do so. 

“Dazai-san?”

He gazes at his subordinate and smiles. 

“Won’t you go for a walk with me, Atsushi-kun?”

Atsushi blinks. “S-sure.”

The chains are staying anyway and so are his thoughts.

✮☽✮

There’s something about walking through a desolate park with your mentor in the midst of the evening. When he looks at the sky, he knows it’s going to be dark soon but he can’t bring himself to say something to the other. Instead, he stares at his back and wonders. He’s been doing that a lot lately.

Suddenly, the other turns around and smiles at him.

“Atsushi-kun, you are quite far back. Are you scared of me?”

Atsushi blinks, before shaking his head quickly, and steps closer to the other.

“Of course not!”

Once he stands beside the other he looks up and stares directly into dark brown eyes. Something—in those eyes—shines keenly and Atsushi thinks his heart stops for a moment. Then his mentor blinks and smiles at him.

“Let’s continue walking, Atsushi-kun!”

It’s one of those moments, his mind tells him, where even his mask keeps cracking.

And they walk further and further until Dazai sees a bench and tugs his shirt, asking him to sit down with him. So they sit on the bench and stare at the sky, no one muttering anything. The sky which is coated in lilac and hues resembling apricot and amber. Looking at it reminds him of why the sky’s so dear to him, why he sometimes reaches his hand out towards it and wonders if he’ll be able to touch it even though he knows he won’t be able to. As he’s caught up in his thoughts, he doesn’t realize the hand that’s slowly moving until it lands on his head. Blinking, his gaze wanders to his mentor who’s wearing a small smile.

“Atsushi-kun,” he says, just something in his voice echoing strongly, “if you think back to all the things you learned about me, can you honestly say that nothing of me scares or angers you?”

His eyes widen.

Those words are peculiarly sincere of the other.

✮☽✮

He knows he’s seeking a reaction.

There’s a part of him—he even knows which one—that is baiting the other for a certain reaction. He’s waiting to be judged, disappointed, or to be surprised; actually, he’s not so sure anymore. 

Dazai’s used to predicting and expecting things, he’s been doing it since he was a kid after all. At some point, he realized that the expectations of other people could be broken too harshly so he turned that down. But they still linger in the back of his mind. Logically, he knows the question is cruel and he’s asking Atsushi—who’s the opposite of him—to judge him by beliefs against his own. 

Staring at those sunset-colored eyes makes him ponder about what the other currently thinks of him. 

“Do I look like such a good person?”

He recalls the way the chains thickened around him, scraping against bandages that felt too scorching on him, tearing on skin and skin as he kept sinking in aqua. 

“Yes, why?” 

Is it really so simple? To look at him and ignore the rotten parts.

“D-Dazai-san…,” the other’s wavering voice echoes and he keeps his eyes on the other his, waiting for an answer.

Atsushi grips the fabric of his pants and doesn’t avert his eyes.

“… do you honestly expect me to answer that?”

Dazai nods.

And then—before he really can process it—Atsushi’s lying his gloved hand over his eyes, successfully shielding his sight. 

“… Atsushi-kun?”

“Are you worried that you can’t see anything right now?”

If Dazai’s honest, losing his sight doesn’t make much difference to him. 

“No, I’m not.”

Suddenly, the hands away and he blinks, readjusting to being able to see. His subordinate is smiling at him.

“Then that’s your answer, Dazai-san.”

He stares at the other.

“… Honestly, I’d be so scared of not being able to see because that would make me vulnerable.” 

It’s slowly settling in.

“But you? You don’t seem to mind that much… that says a lot about your abilities and mindset, Dazai-san.”

Ah, so that’s it.

“… Of course, I can’t help but be a bit scared of you.”

You are corrupt.

He closes his eyes and hums. The chains burn against his skin as the water cuts. Is it even water?

“Every time I do something… I wonder if you’ll be disappointed.”

His eyes snap open.

“Dazai-san, you’re so amazing… it’s hard to keep up.”

The other smiles at him. 

“I constantly dread the day I end up disappointing you.”

There’s hand on his own, fingers interweaving. 

He finds his voice again.

“… That doesn’t answer my question, Atsushi-kun.”

The weretiger chuckles and the sound echoes in his mind as if it’s haunting him.

“It does answer it, Dazai-san.”

He grips the other’s hand, reminded of metal clinking together.

“…”

“Dazai-san, being scared of someone doesn’t always mean they're terrible people.” 

He knows that. He knows that but—

“… And people are able to change…”

Atsushi lifts their hands.

“… even if they are from the deepest depths of hell.”

Because change is a natural part of them.

You were corrupt, maybe you still are…

It’s dark now and the stars started gracing them with their presence awhile before. It’s also cold but he feels warm. The other wears a pleasant smile despite the cold.

He’s not drowning, or?

“… Dazai-san?”

“Yes, Atsushi-kun?”

“Let’s go back.”

…  but that doesn’t abolish your honest qualities.

“Alright.”

[animemangasoul]

I’m Here Now

Summery: Beast AU Oda ends up in the main timeline. Chaos ensues

Characters: Akutagawa & Oda, Akutagawa & Chuuya, Oda & Dazai etc

Chapter: 1/20

The explosion, the deaths, the screams; Akutagawa couldn’t see. This shouldn’t have happened. He should have known. Fuck, he should have known

“Akutagawa-san!” More screams. His men were dying. Their blood had spilled over his shoes and the stink of ripped flesh, burned his nostrils. This shouldn’t have happened.

He coughed.

“Hayato!” He called out; covering his mouth with the palm of his hand. Another cough. “Hayato! Tell me where you are!” He could barely see two steps ahead of him and-

His men. They were dying.

Finally; shaking fingers clasped his wrist. “Akutagawa-san.” A choked breath and terrified eyes. Hayato was older than him, but – It was Ryuunosuke’s job to keep him alive. To keep him standing.  

“Get behind me,” he muttered; struggling to speak each word. “Get as many of them as you can behind me.”

Hayato didn’t need to be told twice, and with a click of his earpiece, he was shouting orders left and right; blood-soaked fingers still clenching around his gun.  

Akutagawa didn’t care whether these no names lived or died, but he’d promised the Jinko not to kill, and if he wasn’t planning to end his enemies for what they were putting him through right now, couldn't he afford the idiots following him the same courtesy?

He coughed. The whole arrangement was more trouble than it was worth. But – His gut twisted painfully at the thought of just letting these morons perish. He didn’t like them, but, he didn’t hate them either. And... “People count on the strong,” Chuuya-san had once said, when he’d taken a bullet in the gut for a nameless mafia remember. “I try not to disappoint those loyal to me Ryuu-chan.”

Fuck.

Men were running past him now. Some of them occasionally even turning around to shoot back into the fray. “Akutgawa-san!” They kept saying as they drew near him. “Akutagawa-san!”

They were counting on him. Like Gin did. Like Jinko had. Like... No one had predicted the ability users, plural... No one had known. ‘Faulty information,’ Ryuunosuke thought bitterly. ‘We were taken of guard.’ Still, it didn’t matter in the end. He wasn’t going to let anyone else take their last breath today. Not on his watch.  

“Rashomon!” he cried; Coat flaring up to devour the space in-between. He had never used his ability as far ranging as he was now, but it couldn’t be helped. His men where behind him; vulnerable, scared. They couldn’t fight these forces alone and reinforcement wouldn’t arrive on time, so he covered as much space as he could, and strained to keep the people behind him, safe.

“Get out of here,” he called back; teeth gritted against the magnitude of bullets raining down on them. Any other day and this would have been child's play, but he’d expended most of his energy on taking down the three ability users, and now he was almost running on empty.

He could have laughed at how pathetic he must have looked right now. Standing there, facing down lowly gunmen and struggling. Humiliating really. Still-

“Are you sure Akutagawa-kun?”

Daichi. He was young. The only reason Akutagawa even knew his name was that Higuichi had taken him under her wing. She’d been very fond of him. And he didn’t seem all that scared of the rabid dog either.  

“Get out of her Daichi, that’s an order.” The kid yelped. Probably surprised that he knew his name, but he was also quick to obey which made Akutagawa’s heart briefly flair up with pride. Idiots who didn’t listen didn’t last very long in the mafia after all.

Retreating stampede of feet rang out behind him at the barked order, and somehow, Ruunosuke found his muscles untensing with the slightest degree. In just a few minutes, he was the only one left; cars screeching out of their parking spots behind him and turning towards the road.

Good

No more distractions. He coughed. Good.

“Rashomon,” he muttered, it was time to end this. The cloth attacked; now only having to cover him, it didn’t have to hold back anymore. Of course the situation was a bit trickier than usual, with him trying not to kill men he couldn’t even see, and them trying not to surround him and instead keeping as far away as possible, but, not long after only few screams and gun shots were ringing out anymore, and Akutagawa was slowly closing in on them.

His sides were burning, his lungs were suffocating and his head was swimming, but he was close-

So close he could taste it. “Just a second more,” he muttered to himself; ducking behind a wall when Rashomon momentarily faltered. “You got this.” Stepping out from his hiding spot again; smoke having cleared somewhat, he lashed out again. This time taking out three of the remaining five gunmen.  

Just two left to go.

Or that’s what he’d thought. He hadn’t heard the silent footsteps that creeped up behind him, hadn’t heard the thin breathing; too occupied in trying to stop himself from coughing out his lungs, so when the bullet dug itself into his left calf. He gasped. “Fuck.”

The skin around his left eye had been burned off by the previous ability user, so Akutagawa hadn’t seen her coming; vision being blurry from the melted skin surrounding it, but it shouldn’t have been that difficult. He should have been more careful, more prepared. “Fuck.”

A gun was directed at his head now, and with his failing ability fending off the two other gunmen, Ryuunosuke was sad to say, he couldn’t do anything but glare up at her; bloody teeth bared and eyes glowering.

She smirked; tongue darting out to lick at the blood caking her lips. He grimaced.  

Disgusting.

“Say goodbye rabid dog,” she giggled, and – Akutagawa thought of her... Gin, his sister, the only person who’d always been there, the only person... She would be alone now. Without him – Alone. He gritted his teeth. She was all grown up now, but.. Could she live? Without him? Go on? Maybe, but... Why should she have to? No, fuck no. Gin needed him. Chuuya-san would be there, but... He’d promised, and he would never leave her, ever. But-

Before he would do something, anything – a shot rang out in the dark and in the blink of an eye, the gleeful look on the woman’s face slacked and she crumbled lifelessly onto the ground.  

Akutagawa gaped.

Two more shots after, and the men behind him also found themselves faces planting on the ground. What the hell was going on?

“Ryuu!”

Huh?

Rapid footsteps where approaching him now. He blinked slowly; body suddenly feeling too heavy and too tired. “Kid are you ok?”

He frowned, tensing up slightly. “Who are you?” Words came out sluggish.

Said person dropped down next to him; face ashen and lips drawn into a worrying line. ‘He looks familiar,’ Ryuunosuke thought. ‘Do I know him?’

“Don’t worry, I didn’t kill them. I know that’s what you were trying to avoid.” Nervous fingers where clapping him on the shoulders now, helping him fully sit down and trying to make him lean against the rock he’d been hiding behind. “Not that I would have done it anyways-”

“Who are you,” he snapped; interrupting the man.

“Oh,” the red head said, ruffling his own hair sheepishly. “I guess we don’t know each other pretty well here huh?” He smiled softly then, and Akutagawa blinked. No one had ever smiled at him like that before. That fondness, it felt foreign. “I’m Oda. I think I’m dead in your universe.”

Akutagawa promptly passed out.

[just-kessho]

Ambrosia: Dazai Happiness Week

[Day 3] Birthday party

AU: None

Warnings: Mentions of suicide (thanks, Dazai) and slight spoilers for those who haven’t finished season 1 and 2 of BSD I guess?

[Day 1] [Day 2] [Here] [Day 4] [Day 5] [Day 6] [Day 7]

It was unlikely for Dazai Osamu to not know things – escape routes and alleyways of Yokohama? Those he has already mapped out with every nook and crannies within his brain. A war against Port Mafia? Yes, he already have at least 84 plans and countless backup plans already stored in his mind.

A birthday party for him?

What?

Sure, Dazai knew of ‘birthday’ and ‘party’ as well as ‘birthday party’ but for that to happen to him, the few people who stared into the swirling abyss only for it to blink back, was completely out of his calculations.

All right, to be fair, his mind was already whirling with countless possibilities when Atsushi, all trembling and stuttering every other word, came up to him only to ask about, and he quote straight from the teen’s mouth, “all the best places for suicide” in all of Yokohama.

But Atsushi didn’t stop there – oh no, he followed up with a very high pitched and very loud (that Dazai had to refrain from covering his ears, though he clearly remembers his eyebrows twitching from that sudden outburst) shout of, “will you show them to me?!” that had ‘suspicious’ labelled all over him.

He was about to ask Atsushi what was wrong – and believe me, if [Name] was involved in anything, then he would drop everything and anything just to sprint to her side – but before a single word could get out of his throat, his blond co-worker screaming about everybody’s schedule being interrupted whenever Dazai’s present, and thus that leads to Dazai… well, basically granting Atushi’s wish by showing the male all the places that he would personally commit suicide.

Though just after the two stepped out of the agency front doors, the brunette turned back to face the brick red building, wondering what on Earth was happening to prevent him from merely being inside it – he figured that much out, for Kunikida, under no circumstances, would ever allow Dazai to step a single feet outside the building when it was working hours. It says something about his own disappearance skills (that he was somewhat proud of), and also more about how it was a poorly disguised way (to someone as perceptive as Dazai, of course) of not wanting a person named ‘Dazai Osamu’ to know about what everyone was planning.

He could rule out a war against Port Mafia, as the truce between the two organisations were still standing, and he could also rule out-

Wait, was [Name] truly in danger? Sure, he knew of the dangerous jobs that she sometimes would take without as much blinking an eye, yet the image of her laying on a hospital bed, where her red liquid of life would make a stark contrast against the pristine white of the sheets, and being strapped to every machine available just to barely keep her alive was not an image that he want – nor want to remember.

[Hair colour] framed her face like an antique piece of artwork, and those [eye colour] were shining with… something met his dull brown ones.

He blinked, and the- his belladonna was gone.

Whether the stunning beauty in that window was an illusion or not, perhaps it was time to focus on entertaining Atsushi with his hand-picked spots for suicide.

Yet two and a half hours into showing the white haired kid the suicide spots with as much enthusiasm as possible so he wouldn’t know Dazai knew the agency (and perhaps along with [Name]’s workplace named with the very original name of ‘The Office’) was planning something.

Though Dazai thought [Name] had a neutral look of looking as if she was absolutely bored of everything, as if she had somehow experienced everything before and was doing them again, like a countless playthrough of a game that mirrored your first one, Atsushi’s face now sort of… resembled that of his girlfriend’s.

… Perhaps the white haired male really had enough listening about “ooh, that branch seemed to support your weight well” and “there’s not many people who would come here, so this is the perfect spot for a clean suicide~” and whatnot.

Honestly, he seemed more like their newest addition in the agency, Izumi Kyouka, when she was waiting personally for him in the shopping district than the sunny boy who always smiled, asking if there was anything he could do to help and putting his life on the line for others.

“Atsushi-kun.” stopping so suddenly, much like them times when Dazai himself slammed on the brakes, at the last minute, when he was driving, so it was no surprise that Atsushi nearly bumped into him. Nearly. “what is with you and the agency today?”

“I… do not get what you mean, Dazai-san?” really, the kid was so bad at lying that Dazai swear he could personally count every sweatdrop that was staring to show on his forehead. “Wh-whatever could you have gotten that from, I won-wonder?”

“… Your whole attitude.”

Really, Dazai might have wanted to re-think his earlier statement, since as soon as that ruthless three worded sentence was uttered, Atsushi looked as if someone had snatched his beloved chazuke and threw it in the bin all right in front of him.

“W-well, it is a special day, so the agency thought that… you should have a break today!”

“… oh shit, is today the anniversary of me and [Name]?”

“No! At least, I don’t think so.” to see Dazai panicking was a sight to behold, but it was slightly sad for the birthday boy not realise what today really is.

“I-is it [Name]’s birthday?”

“… No.”

“Versalius-san’s birthday?”

“… Think again, Dazai-san.”

“The Office’s founding date? The agency’s founding date?”

“Keep thinking, Dazai-san.”

“Was today the day [Name]’s favourite pet died, and so she wants us out of the picture so she can mourn in peace, yet deep down inside, all she really wanted was for me to lend her a shoulder to cry on and have comfort sex?”

“What?! NO!”

Face red and huffing as if he had just sprinted across three hundred meters for the last bowl of chazuke, Atsushi hunched down and mumbled something about Dazai being so sad and oblivious, yet he wondered whether the older man was really just entertaining him.

Yet at the thoughtful look spread across Dazai’s face as he really whacked his brain, Atsushi threw that last thought out of his mind.

Oh wait, Dazai was known for being good actor, so maybe that deduction wasn’t that far off.

Perhaps I should just tell him outright- wait, what were you thinking, Nakajima Atsushi?! [Surname]-san’s trust was specifically put into you! So don’t fail her – and the entire agency – now.

A phone beeped. And at the vibration felt in the pocket, Atsushi immediately scrambled to get it out, nearing dropping the object in his haste. And at the neat kanji and katakana that told him everything was ready, he felt himself relieve a breath that he didn’t know he was holding.

Thank God, because I don’t think I can fool or keep Dazai-san from the truth anymore.

“Dazai-san, I think we should return to the agency because… uh, oh, because Kunikida-san just texted me saying that we need you.”

“Eh-? No, don’t wanna, and here I was having such a good time showing you all my favourite suicide spots-”

“Actually, it was [Surname]-san who needs you, she just didn’t want to… she didn’t want me to tell you that.”

“Then let’s go! That sounds exactly like [Name]-chan~”

I offer you my sincerest apologies, [Surname]-san, but your sacrifice is much needed – just please find it in your heart to forgive me!

“Atsushi-kun, why are you praying to a God now?”

Atsushi didn’t really have a convincing answer for that impossible question. So he stayed silent, praying for Dazai to not work out what they have in store for him.

A thunderous bang resonated throughout the room. Confetti was thrown, and a particular long one got entangled in Dazai’s hair.

Atsushi’s frantic stuttering and sweatdrop now made sense. They were preparing a birthday party for him!

Oh wait, today really was his birthday, wasn’t it?

But he paid neither the confetti nor the sudden realisation that he was a year older any notice.

Oh no, not with his co-works (that were crawling slowly but surely, to the place in his heart where the walls that he carefully put up were defeated – much like what [Name] did) smiling – yes, even Kyouka, and the corners of Kunikida’s mouth twitched upwards – and simultaneously shouting “happy birthday, Dazai!” along with the colourful banners and freshly prepared food that was put out for everyone to enjoy.

… He just hoped Vesalius did not prepare them…

But still, that cake, that magnificent cake that was coated in his favourite flavour – a sure sign that it was [Name] who ordered it, heck, perhaps she even made it herself. Oh wait, it wasn’t covered in crabsticks so that was out of the window.

However, the disappointment that reminded him of a child not getting his way in a toy shop was quickly washed away by a warm feeling as he scanned each happy faces of his co-workers that he couldn’t help but feel his lips spread into a smile-

And then his eyes met hers.

Did time slow down? Probably not, but he really felt it was just him and her in this room. A dazzling smile that he wanted to protect (despite fully knowing she was perhaps even more capable of that than him), a dazzling smile that was not present not even two years prior… a smile that was directed solely at him. He remembers simply expressing his gratitude to the people in front of him, and then making his way towards the [hair colour] haired woman.

Her hands were clasped behind her back, was she trying to look cool by hiding her fiddling fingers? How utterly cute.

(It wasn’t the first time such a thought cropped up in Dazai’s mind, and it for sure wasn’t the last)

“… Happy birthday, Dazai.”

“Really, [Name]-chan, you didn’t have to do all this!”

“But I wanted to, we wanted to. You deserve a break after all… so here.”

A package of blue and red was thrust in his vision of sight. With hands that trembled slightly – huh, why was he trembling anyway? Years of torturing and other jobs in the mafia without batting an eyelash hardened him so. Thus this small, trivial exchange should not… should not make him feel as if he was on top of the world, and wouldn’t mind having this warmth blossoming in his chest longer.

Still, he took it. Gently unwrapping the thing, a burst of blue greeted his eyes.

“It’s a labradorite.” [Name] explained, leading him right under one of the agency’s artificial lights. “it changes colour depending on the light. Normally this gemstone I got you stays a blue-ish colour, but it can become red, yellow, hmm… a blue-green and gold. Ah, see that? It just changed to gold for a moment- and now it’s a sort of blue-green. Oh, it changed back to being solely blue.”

Turning the precious stone so that it shined in all the colours that it can give off, the birthday brunette entertained himself with it – heck, Dazai even managed to get [Name]’s eye colour to stay on for an extended period of time, but it is fickle, one slight shake of his hand and the colour vanished.

“Thank you, [Name]. I’ll take good care of it.” it wasn’t a lie, nor a white-lie that was the result of his silver-tongue that made many people spill out their deepest secrets or flush in a deepest red. No, it was right from his heart – and that was something that made [name]’s smile widen.

Which in turn, made his own widen, for the warmth in his chest, spreading down to his fingertips and toes, made him forget of his past and the demons that plagued his mind – just for today, just for this hour… just as long as [Name]’s genuine smile was there, on her face.

Huh, and he thought it was impossible to fall more in love with her.

The presents he received were more everyday essentials, though there were some books from the Director and Vesalius (with the latter glaring at him for seeing him kiss his lovely niece) that he wanted to flip through.

Still, the gift that made an everlasting impression – almost as much as [Name]’s gemstone – was Naomi and Tanizaki’s.

It was a maid dress.

Not one that showed off everything and hid nothing, not it was one that was historically correct with the skirt down to the floor. It was one that showed off all the right curves of [Na- uh, whoever that would put it on. It was a miniskirt, yes, but it could pass for a school uniform miniskirt, and the collar was also down, though it didn’t show off everything and so left just enough room for imagination…

All in all, Dazai thought he had to give it to Naomi (this had the younger Tanizaki sibling written all over it) for her to pick out this particular and… uh, unique gift.

… And she was smirking slyly all the while he opened it.

Hey, guess he and [Name] would get busy tonight, as he would definitely abuse his ‘birthday boy’ status.

    Omake

“[Name]-chan, put it on, pleaseeeeeee!”

“No.”

“Come on, I’m begging you- and I’m the birthday boy here. Also, everybody want to see you in this, after all, who wouldn’t want our poster girl in a cute maid dress?”

“Y-yeah…” I-I’m so sorry, [Surname]-san!

“Oooooh, definitely! It would be a sight to behold.”

“I’m sure it would suit you. I know it would have more impact than the time I dressed up.”

“See, even Kyouka-chan and Naomi-chan said it. So please!”

“……………… Ugh… fine. Give it here then.”

“If you don’t I’ll make my infamous puppy- wait, what?”

“I won’t say it twice.”

“Yes!”

“I’ll get the camera ready!”

“You won’t old man.”

“D-damn… she’s so cruel to me…”

“Come on people, drum roll please! Aaaaaaand here we go!

“No! No drum rolls Naomi. Also……… Kill me. Right now- hey, D-Dazai, why are you picking me up?! And where are we going?”

“Kunikida-kun, don’t look for us for the next three days bye!”

Guess who’s a day late! Happy birthday husbando, the light of my life, my reason for living, the one whom I just reblogged 100+ gifs and photos of…

@dazaixhappinessweek2k19

[leonawriter]

Try Again

Read it on AO3

Fandom: Bungo Stray Dogs

Pairing: Dazai/Chuuya

Summary: Their firsts don't really count. They're not really kisses, they happened wrong, and Chuuya hates the taste of river water more than anything.

But at some point, somehow, it starts to work. Even if it takes taking down a dragon to get there.

Notes: Inspired by this art here.

...

Chuuya's still fifteen when he first kisses Dazai, and he hates every moment.

To be more specific, he's fifteen, just come from a mission, just heard that Dazai had wandered off after his own, and he just so happens to be walking around the river - still a new and novel thing, having spent as much of his life as he could remember in the slums, unable to so much as see the sea - when he sees something black floating downstream, and when he looks closer, he realises that it's actually a body, Dazai's body, floating face down.

Suicidal brats who don't care about their own lives really are the kind he hates the worst, and Dazai's top of that list, with the way he can't even manipulate his gravity in order to just lift him out easily, no, he's got to remember to put his hat down so he doesn't lose it before jumping in after the idiot with no sense of self-preservation.

Thankfully, he doesn't need his ability in order to hit Dazai on the chest (maybe with a bit too much vindication in that), or to do a rudimentary performance of CPR that he'd only vaguely heard of until now.

Dazai's unresponsive at first, and no matter how much he says he hates him and no matter how much he says that one of these days he's going to see the brat dead, it still scares him.

Not the idea of seeing a dead body. Or even, a kid's dead body. He's seen enough of both, and he knows he's going to see (and, more than likely, make) more in his lifetime.

He tells himself that it's spite, and because if that bastard dies now, he'll be happy about it, and the thought makes him want to kick Dazai's shit in.

Dazai opens his eyes.

Chuuya yells at him.

(Look at you, he'd said, yelling, what, you're making me fish you out of some river now like you're some damn mackerel? Go drown yourself by a fishing boat next time!)

Dazai brushes it all off, disappointed and irritated, and Chuuya hates him even more.

(That'd be counterproductive, though, Dazai had said, single eye narrowed, the bandages around the other one sodden. Besides, at least I have a good reason for being wet. Unlike you, who's just walking around leaving a trail behind him like some kind of slug.)

It isn't the last time Chuuya kisses Dazai like that, though, and he loses track of the number of times he tastes seawater, hoping he's not going to get sick from shared river water.

He hates it, every time.

...

The first time Dazai kisses Chuuya, it's a shared moment of too much intimacy, too close, too soon when their hearts are still beating too fast, while Atsushi is fighting for his life-

And yet, with one hand tangled with Chuuya's, which is still sticky with blood from Corruption no matter how much he'd tried wiping it off on Dazai's white suit - which he hadn't exactly minded, given he was hardly going to be wearing this present from Shibusawa ever again - and the other supporting Chuuya's body so that he didn't just fall over, even now that he had a little of his strength back... his lips were pressed to Chuuya's, and it was strange, because no ability should be able to affect him, and yet, and yet.

He felt light and heavy as though his body couldn't quite decide whether it wanted to listen to gravity, yet without any of the actual floating sensation, which just left him feeling vaguely nauseous. Feverish?

Something in his stomach, at least. Something in his blood.

(And it was wrong, wrong, wrong - because Atsushi was out there fighting, this wasn't over yet, and here he was. Taking advantage of the situation to his own ends.)

Dazai feels more than sees Chuuya smile, and right now he isn't so sure that he'd call Chuuya a dog after all, limp as he is and yet still seeming so much more like the cat that got the cream.

"Mm," Chuuya hums. Their foreheads now leaning against each other, which feels far more close than a head-butting should. "You make for a really shitty Snow White, Dazai." 

Dazai laughs, the first real laugh he's had since the whole ordeal had started, he thinks.

"You think so? I thought I didn't do too badly."

Chuuya scoffs.

"Yeah, right... you make an awful princess. But... I think I can live with that."

They can both still hear the sounds of fighting in the distance, but it's nowhere near them and neither of them seem to care, and perhaps that means they're both going to go to hell. But for now, for now at least, the moment is a good one.

...

Dazai wonders if he should be feeling happy, in the days afterwards, because things have changed and in some ways they'll never go back to how they were, but instead he feels anxious, and thinking back on it, a kiss shared in the rubble while the new kids were fighting to save Yokohama, doesn't quite feel real.

So he distracts himself with bothering Kunikida, and pushing his paperwork onto Atsushi, because those are easier than the slowly dawning realisation that his dream of ending his life with a beautiful woman doesn't feel nearly so much like something he wants anymore.

It's frustrating, to the point of irritation, because Chuuya is getting in the way of his plans for committing suicide again, because as much as he wants to die, he also doesn't want to - can't, somehow - imagine Chuuya dead.

He can't quite find it in himself to be disappointed this time, though.

Kunikida points out that he's touching his lips, and says that if he's still feeling the effects of anything that had happened to him, then he should talk to Yosano, but he deflects by saying it isn't anything to do with that at all, and he's just thinking of frosted donuts, which has the intended consequence of Ranpo telling him to go and fetch some.

The walk is supposed to clear his head, and seeing Yokohama (relatively, at least) unharmed does help.

"Oi," he hears, stood out near the water and looking out in the direction of Cone Street. The slums, where he'd found first Chuuya, then Akutagawa. "You'd better not be planning to jump in, after all the effort I went to the other day, shitty Dazai."

There's a smile on his face when he turns around to see Chuuya, the real Chuuya a welcome distraction from imagining what the dragon must have looked like, and how Chuuya must have looked, fighting it - deadly, dangerous, and in danger of dying.

Chuuya scoffs, giving up on getting the answer he wanted, probably, and comes to join Dazai at the railing.

They stand like that for a while, comfortably next to each other, arms touching.

Something has changed, Dazai feels, although he can't quite put his finger on what.

Then Chuuya turns to face him, and there's something in his eyes, that reminds Dazai of the way he'd felt when Atsushi had told him that he thought Dazai was a good man, feeling that Atsushi could have only said that if he didn't know anything about him, and yet Chuuya- Chuuya knows, so much, so much more than anyone. And he's looking at him with those eyes.

"Hey, Dazai..." Chuuya trails off long enough he almost could have forgotten what he was going to say, but Dazai knows Chuuya better than that, knows that Chuuya found it easier to do things - kick things, hit things, a punch to the face - than to find the words he wanted to say, sometimes. "That thing we did. You know, the..." Kiss, Dazai's mind supplies, all too helpfully. The rest of his mind starts to go blank, unable to figure out what to do, what to say, what to feel. "Hah... d'you know how many times I've brought you back? You tasted like disgusting seawater, you shitty Mackerel." He doesn't know what to say. "I guess, what I mean is... we're doing that again, right?"

His brain, for once, has short-circuited, and nothing is there, and nothing is making sense, and nothing is real, because from everything he knows about Chuuya, and he knows a lot, Chuuya doesn't...

"...Ah?"

He might glare up at him angrily like that, but he doesn't grab at a handful of shirt-and-tie to get Dazai to lean further down, doesn't look like he's searching for something like that, doesn't...

"I'm asking, dimwit, can we try that again?"

...oh.

...

It's not the first time Chuuya's kissed Dazai by far, and it's not even the first time he's kissed the idiot and not tasted seawater, but it's the first one that feels like it really counts.

Dazai goes just as limp as he had that last time, and for all that Dazai'd made him act and talk like a debutante to make a fool out of him, it was Dazai who'd always related most to the princesses in those fairy tales he loved so much, and it was Dazai who felt a lot like one right now.

Chuuya breaks the kiss, feeling as though the entire world could see them and what they'd just done, but that thought and that feeling are pushed to one side at the sight of Dazai, still looking dazed, with a stupid smile on his face.

Worth more than a masterpiece, he finds himself thinking, and then, one I'd want to see again.

[aurorapillar]

Title: in languor dreams of death    

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Characters: Chuuya Nakahara, Dazai Osamu, Mori Ougai

Summary: There were a lot of things in life that Dazai would never admit out loud, and one of them was just how much Corruption terrified him.

There were a lot of things in life that Dazai would never admit out loud, and one of them was just how much Corruption terrified him. He wasn't scared of it for the same reason that most people probably would be, thanks to his ability he had no need to worry about Chuuya's ability harming him, no what scared him was the way Chuuya changed when using Corruption.

The fact that Chuuya was an incredibly important person to him was another fact that Dazai would never admit out loud; the two of them had gotten off to a rough start and Dazai was well aware he'd done many things that had hurt Chuuya, yet despite that the two of them had managed to build a strong bond. It was a different type of bond than the one Dazai had shared with Odasaku, Oda had been a sturdy port in the middle of a storm, a medley of warm and gentle colors, a beacon of safety; he'd been Dazai's best friend and a teacher of sorts.

Things with Chuuya, on the other hand, had been much more volatile; he was all vibrant colors and burning passion, everything he had he'd fought to obtain and keep, teeth bared and claws sharp. He valued straightforwardness and hated manipulation and trickery, yet ofttimes kept his own feelings and intelligence hidden behind a mask of insults, bluster, and impulsiveness. Above all, he was loyal to a fault and so very human, an irony that wasn't lost on anyone in the know about his origins.

All in all he and Dazai were polar opposites, and yet, in the end, they were both children who'd been forced to become adults way too soon, only able to ever act their real age with each other. Just two lost boys who'd managed to find a home and family in each other.

And yet, whenever Chuuya activated Corruption, that vibrant boy disappeared. All of his fire and personality gone in a matter of moments, replaced by nothing but an endless abyss of rage and destruction. When in his corrupted state, Chuuya had no friends or allies, he would focus on the last task Chuuya had thought of before activating his power and then, once that was done he'd turn his rage on whatever else was around him. If you were unlucky enough to get in his path….

Well, there was a good reason Double Black was so feared by the Mafia's enemies.

Dazai remembered all too well the first time Corruption had been activated, it had only been a few months since they'd been partnered together and the two of them had been taking down a small organization that had been encroaching on Mafia territory. Or well, Chuuya had been taking them down while Dazai had been playing on his handheld and returning Chuuya’s insults with snide remarks. Ever since the debacle with the Sheep, Mori had been much quicker to shut down any new groups that popped up in the Mafia’s territory; most of them were unlikely to ever get strong enough to pose a threat, but that was also what they'd once thought about the Sheep.

The night had been going well, the organization was pathetically weak and Chuuya was easily dominating the scene, leaving the grunts they'd brought as backup with little to do but watch. Then the ability user had shown up and everything began to fall apart.

According to the information they had on the group, there weren't any ability users among them, and yet there one was tossing around bolts of electricity like an oversized battery charger. It was a bad matchup for Chuuya, gravity had no effect on electricity and the constant barrage of sparks kept the boy from getting close enough to physically attack the man. Unfortunately, the other ability user wasn't having any of the same problems and Dazai couldn't hold back from clicking his tongue in annoyance as a bolt slammed Chuuya into a crate near where he'd been sitting.

While Chuuya shook off the electricity still coursing over his body, their Mafia backup open fire on the enemy, only for each bullet to shot down by a bolt of lightning, the shooters soon being shot down themselves as the ability user turned his attention towards them. Unlike Chuuya, who after a minute or so had managed to shake off the effects of the hit and get up again, none of the men rose. They did however twitch, but Dazai was fairly certain that was due to the electricity running through their bodies and not because any of them were still alive.

Chuuya had stared at the bodies, his face a mixture of horror and anger that Dazai wouldn't truly understand until years later after Odasaku died, his eyes seemed to linger especially one sandy-haired man who Dazai vaguely recalled he'd seen Chuuya hanging out with before. What had been his name again? Nishi? Nishiki? Something like that, Dazai didn't really remember, he only remembered the man's face because he'd been very loud in his determination to be Chuuya's friend. Not that that would be happening now.

"You…" It was the deep guttural growl in Chuuya's voice as he spoke that had torn Dazai's attention away from thoughts of dead bodies and foolish attempts at friendship. Turning his gaze back to the boy his eyes widened in surprise, a rare occurrence, as a dark red pattern began to crawl it's way up Chuuya's arms and neck and his pupils shrunk to pinpricks. His mouth opened in a feral roar and Dazai watched in fascination as he charged towards the ability user, the ground cracking beneath his feet with each step. For a moment a panic expression appeared on the other man's face, before twisting into a sneer as he shot a bolt of lightning at Chuuya, only for his face to become one of shock as the boy easily dodged it.

Within seconds Chuuya was on the man, or rather the man was on Chuuya as the boy hit with enough force to smash the right half of his torso to pieces, blood and guts splattering everywhere. As he fell to his knees, a scream of pure agony on his lips, a dark orb began to form in Chuuya's hand before being thrust right into his face. The force of whatever it was would have probably sent the corpse flying backwards through the wall if it was for the simple fact that there was no corpse left to go flying, it had been obliterated, along with a good portion of the floor.

"Well, well," Dazai had drawled, clapping softly as he finally stood "Quite the trick you have there, I wonder if Mori knows you've been holding out on us? " There was no response to his taunt, causing Dazai to frown "Ignoring me? That's not very nice Chibi~" He'd pouted, only to stop short as Chuuya lifted his head and let out a terrifying laugh; it wasn't a sound Dazai had ever heard come out of him before and he couldn't stop the fear that gripped his heart for a second.

Chuuya slowly turned towards him, his eyes vacant of any recognition and it became clear to Dazai that whatever was going on, Chuuya was not the one in control. He didn’t have any time to dwell on that though as his partner lunged forward, sending a ball of dark energy flying straight at him; there was no time to dodge and so Dazai took a moment to ponder on whether or not death via obliteration would be painless before losing the chance to find out as his ability nullified the attack.

As disappointing as that was it had made one thing clear, whatever was going on with Chuuya was part of his ability, meaning he just needed to touch him to stop it. That was easier said than done of course, even without his ability Chuuya tended to be faster than him, so he'd have to catch him off guard; and the sooner he did so the better considering the blood Dazai could see beginning to drip from Chuuya's mouth and nose. It seemed Chuuya's body was not equipped to handle whatever was happening to him for very long.

Fortunately Chuuya's attention seemed to have drifted from him following his attack, and he now seemed to be focused on destroying as much of his surroundings as possible. Wasting no time Dazai had dashed forward, wrapping his fingers around the back of Chuuya's neck just like he had during their first meeting, and as he did so the marks on his partner's skin slowly receded and he'd collapsed backwards into to Dazai’s arms.

"Dazai?" The boy's voice was shaky and questioning, but he wasn't able to get more than a word out before he erupted in a fit of thick wet coughs, blood splattering his lips and dripping down pale skin. For the second time that night Dazai felt a hint of fear as he quickly turned Chuuya on his side so he hopefully wouldn't choke on his own blood, the boy was worryingly pale and his skin was cold and clammy to the touch, his breath coming in harsh wet bursts as his coughing fit died down.

"Oi Chuuya, come on don't make me carry you back to headquarters. You know, for such a tiny thing you weigh a ton, I think you're getting fat." His taunt brought no response from the smaller boy other than a slight fluttering of eyelashes as his eyes started to drift closed. "Chuuya! CHUUYA!" Dazai's voice was panicked as his hand scrambled for Chuuya's neck in search of a pulse, it was slow and threads but it was there, which drew a sigh of relief from his lips.

Reassured that for the moment at least Chuuya was alive, Dazai reached for his cellphone to call for a pickup and a doctor, his mind absently noting that his hands were covered in blood, Chuuya's blood. It seemed like an eternity that he waited there, Chuuya’s head resting on his lap, the slight rise and fall of his chest the only evidence he was still alive.

When Mori strolled through the door finally, it was the most realized he had ever been to see the man; he had no idea how desperate he'd sounded over the phone to make Port Mafia's boss himself come down, but judging by the slight widening of the man's eyes, the scene he'd come across was not what he'd been expecting.

The man knelt down next to the two of them, a frown playing on his lips as he reached out to check Chuuya's pulse,

"What happened?" He questioned, and it was only the knowledge that Chuuya would soon be getting medical attention and that it was dangerous to show weakness in front of Mori, that allowed Dazai to compose himself and answer.

Mori hummed thoughtfully as he finished, his eyes lit up with both interest and excitement, whatever his thoughts were on the matter though, he didn't share and Dazai was too tired to try to figure them out at the moment. Mori stood and motioned one of the men he'd brought with him to pick up Chuuya, only too narrow his eyes thoughtfully as Dazai swooped in before them and gathered his partner in his arms.

At that moment though Dazai didn't care what conclusions Mori drew from his actions, all he cared about was the realization that he'd gotten far more attached to the red-haired boy then intended and he didn't plan to leave his side until he was awake and back to annoying him.

In the end, it took a whole week before Chuuya woke, and as much as he hated hospitals Dazai had stuck by his side the whole time, only leaving to eat and shower. Mori had been a frequent visitor as well, at one point commenting that Chuuya was probably only still unconscious because it had been the first time using that power and he'd probably wake up quicker after subsequent uses, which had set off alarm bells in Dazai's head.

Those alarm bells had quickly turned into sirens after Chuuya had woken up and Mori had expressed his intentions to weaponize his ability, which had been dubbed Corruption, for the good of the Mafia. Dazai hadn’t missed the flinch and look of fear in Chuuya's eyes at that declaration, and had silently promised the boy that he'd only ever factor it into their plans as a last resort.

There had been nothing he could do about the numerous training sessions Mori required them to have though, all he could do was stand on the sidelines and wait until he needed to turn off Chuuya’s ability and carry him to the infirmary. Unlike the first time, he never stayed by Chuuya’s bed until he woke up, it would be dangerous for both of them if Mori realized Dazai actually cared about his partner. And hadn’t that been a shock for Dazai to realize, that he did care about Chuuya; as infuriatingly annoying as the boy was, he’d brought a sense of variety to his life and while it didn’t fill the emptiness in him, it was something he didn’t want to lose.

Thankfully it seemed Mori had been correct in assuming Chuuya would wake quicker as his body got used to using Corruption, by the time Chuuya had activated it five times he was down to only about three days of unconsciousness afterward, though of course he still remained stuck in bed drugged up on pain medications for several more days.

Despite all the time spent practicing though, it wasn’t until the Dragon’s Head Conflict that Corruption was finally purposefully used in a mission. Given that it had been the death of a friend that had caused Chuuya to unlock the power in the first place, Dazai supposed it was only fitting that it was the death of more friends that caused him to choose on his own to use it in a battle for the first time.

Since Chuuya's desire for revenge went along nicely with Dazai's own plans, he had happily stood aside and watched the widespread destruction with fascination, the many times he'd trained Corruption with Chuuya couldn't compare to watching him use it uninhibited. All it had taken was a matter of moments for entire buildings to be demolished and Dazai was left with a sudden understanding of what the destruction of Suribachi City must have been like.

He only let Chuuya rampage for a few minutes before wrapping his fingers around the boy's wrist and canceling out his ability, they didn't want to end up destroying all of Yokohama after all. Scooping his partner's hat up off the ground, he spun it idly on his finger, gazing around at the destruction surrounding them.

"My my, I'd say that's a job well done, wouldn't you Chibi?" He commented, not really expecting a response; it was clear that Chuuya was barely hanging on to conscious. Sighing loudly, Dazai stopped spinning the hat, instead placing it on his own head so his hands were free to pick Chuuya up in a princess carry. "Hmm, maybe we'll get a raise for this?" He muttered to himself, beginning what he considered a far too long walk to find a ride.

As it turned out, not only was a raise in store for both of them, Chuuya had managed to net himself a promotion to Executive thanks to his actions. It was a bittersweet victory, as an Executive Dazai knew Chuuya had finally gained the chance to look through his files and gain much sought after answers about his past, but now that Mori had gotten a definite taste of what the two of them could do together, they would no doubt be sent out on more and more missions together with instructions to use Corruption.

As usual, Dazai's prediction turned out to be correct.

It wasn't all bad though, Chuuya was a fun partner to work with, not that Dazai would ever tell him that, and bugging him often led to funny stories he could tell Oda and Ango. Chuuya's body also seemed to adjust better to using Corruption, he’d still cough up blood and blackout after using it, but his time spent unconscious had greatly decreased and he was usually out of the hospital within a few days. Sometimes he was out even sooner then that if he had his way; of course when Dazai had proudly told him that he was getting almost as good at escaping hospitals as he was, he’d only received a punch to the gut as thanks, which he found rather rude.

Even with the good points though Dazai still couldn't claim to be happy, he still felt empty, but he supposed he was as close to content as he could be until he either found a reason for living or successfully managed to kill himself.

Then Oda had died and everything changed.

Leaving the Mafia was simultaneously harder and easier then Dazai had thought it would be. With Odasaku dead and Ango revealed to be a spy, there wasn't much of anything left to emotionally tie him to the organization. Really only Chuuya was left, and while he'd probably miss the angry little hat rack, it was far to easy for Dazai to come up with reasons for himself why leaving his partner behind was fine. He'd always been good at lying.

Chuuya was happy in the Mafia, he liked it there, he wouldn't want to come along with Dazai even if he asked. Besides they hated each other, they were always fighting, why would he even want him to come along? Chuuya would be better off without him anyway, Mori wouldn't be able to make him use Corruption anymore so he'd be safe and happy while Dazai focused on becoming a good man for Oda's sake.

They say if you repeat a lie enough times it will become true, and while that in itself was certainly a lie, it was easy enough to make yourself think it was true if you kept it up. And so Dazai easily pushed his regrets to the side and left without a backwards glance.

But then Chuuya came down those stairs four years later and suddenly it wasn't so easy to ignore those long pushed aside regrets. Being on the side that saved people had made a difference in Dazai's life and he didn't regret making that choice, but as he slid back into the old pattern of bantering with his former partner, he couldn't help but wonder if he should have given Chuuya the chance to make that choice as well.

Despite having not wanted to join in the first place, Chuuya had slid into the Mafia like a well-oiled gear, his inclusion helped things run smoothly and it was like he'd always belonged there. But was he happy? He should be, if there was anything in the Mafia that would make him unhappy it would be being used as a weapon, and with Dazai not there to make Corruption an option, that couldn't happen.

Still, as he watched his old partner's back disappear out of the dungeon, he couldn't help but wonder if he'd made a mistake.

[straycatsacademia]

Port Mafia Pastries Ch. 3: Movie Dates

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18231035/chapters/44075833Ao3 Link

Soon enough, Friday came, and Akutagawa couldn’t remember the last time he was this nervous. He wore a nice sweater and jeans, realizing that Atsushi hadn’t actually seen him out of his work clothes. He heard a knock at the door, and when he opened it, he breathed out in relief. Atsushi was wearing jeans and a nice t-shirt, and Akutagawa was surprised to see muscles on his arms.

“Hey, I thought about bringing dessert, but I realized nothing would probably live up to your standards,” Atsushi laughed.

Akutagawa shook himself out of the trance he was in and cleared his throat. “Anything you bring would be fine,” Akutagawa replied. He could hear his voice shake and he cursed himself. Atsushi gave him a weird look but said nothing.

“Wow, your apartment is really nice,” Atsushi complimented.

“Thanks, my sister helped design it,” Akutagawa smiled fondly.

After talking a bit more they started to get out the ingredients for the meal they were going to cook. Akutagawa thought he’d start with a simple meal of vegetables and chicken. However when he saw Atsushi grab the knife to start cutting the zucchini, he thought even that might be too much.

“What are you doing?! You’re gonna cut yourself! Here, let me show you,” Akutagawa sighed. Putting his hands on Atsushi’s, he helped guide him. After a few seconds, he noticed Atsushi was staring at him, and that their faces were very close. Blushing, Akutagawa put down the knife and went back to preparing the chicken.

The rest of the cooking portion of the night was uneventful, as they fell into a comfortable silence. Once the food was done and they sat down, Akutagawa started internally panicking again. What was he going to say? What were they supposed to do but look into each other's eyes? Should he turn on the tv? Would that be rude?

Atsushi smiled at him and started digging into the food. Akutagawa started eating too, and after they talked about the food, the conversation flowed much easier.

After dinner, they decided to watch a movie. Atsushi was horrified Akutagawa had never seen a Disney movie, so now they were watching The Lion King. Except when Akutagawa agreed to watch a Disney movie, he wasn’t expecting a crying Atsushi.

“Atsushi, it’s not real. No lion actually died, it’s pointless to cry about such things,” Akutagawa sighed.

“B-but it’s still so sad! Simba lost his father, because his own uncle killed him!” Atsushi sniffed, leaning his head on Akutagawa’s shoulder as he cried.

Akutagawa froze. Shit, what was he supposed to do now? Hesitantly, he wrapped his arm around Atsushi as Atsushi dug his head into Akutagawa’s neck.

Akutagawa tried to relax to make Atsushi more comfortable, but he could feel his entire face flush. Soon enough Atsushi had stopped crying and was laughing and singing along with the movie, yet he continued to lean on Akutagawa. Akutagawa couldn’t help but think that Atsushi was very comfortable.

Then, much to Akutagawa’s horror, the romance started… as Atsushi was laying on him. Akutagawa’s face felt like it was on fire as “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” started playing. Akutagawa immediately regretted allowing Atsushi to pick the movie.

“Have you ever felt like that towards someone, Akutagawa?” Atsushi asked him.

Akutagawa coughed into his hand and looked away from the screen. “No, I’ve never been in love before,” he replied.

“Oh,” Atsushi said. Akutagawa couldn’t tell if he was happy or sad by his answer.

“Have you?”

“No, I haven’t been in love before either. It looks nice though,” Atsushi hummed.

Akutagawa agreed, and finally the horrid song was over. Akutagawa let out a sigh of relief, but it didn’t last long as soon Atsushi yawned and snuggled into him closer, and Akutagawa was sure Atsushi could hear his heart beating out of his chest.

“Akutagawa, are you sure you weren’t in love with Dazai?”

Akutagawa sat up quickly and Atsushi yelped as he was shoved off the couch.

“What? No! Why would you ask something like that?”

“You always just seemed to value his opinions over everyone else's, like nothing else mattered besides his approval. Including me,” Atsushi whispered.

Akutagawa’s face softened. “Your opinion means much more to me than Dazai’s” Akutagawa assured him.

Atsushi’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Really. Now can we get back to watching the movie?” Akutagawa asked, uncomfortable with expressing his affection for Atsushi.

They both sat down and to Akutagawa’s surprise, Atsushi moved closer to him and rested his head on Akutagawa again.

“If you value my opinion so much, can I call you Ryuunosuke?”

If Atsushi couldn’t hear Akutagawa’s heart beat before, he certainly could here it now.

“S-sure,” Akutagawa managed to stutter out.

“Okay, Ryuunosuke,” Atsushi said, and then returned his attention to the movie.

Ryuunosuke was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he hadn’t even realise the movie had ended.

Atsushi sighed. “Well, I better get back to Kyouka,” Atsushi said sadly. He got up off Ryuunosuke and he suddenly felt cold.

“Wait!” Ryuunosuke grabbed his arm. “Do you want to do this again? Dinner and a movie?”

Atsushi’s eyes widened and his face turned red. “Like… like a date?”

Ryuunosuke felt his heart beat faster. “If- If that’s what you want,” he stuttered.

Atsushi beamed and wrapped his arms around him. “I’d like that,” Atsushi whispered.

Atsushi waved at Ryuunosuke before he headed home, and Ryuunosuke sat behind his door, smiling.

---

Atsushi smiled the whole day at work. He couldn’t believe Ryuunosuke felt the same way he did. At least… he thought he did? What if he knew about Atsushi’s feelings and just pitied him? No, he knew Ryuunosuke wouldn’t do that.

Pushing through his self deprecating thoughts, Atsushi served his last customer before clocking out. He wondered what he and Ryuunosuke would do for their date. Lost in thought, he felt himself run into something before crashing on the ground.

Rubbing his head, Atsushi realized that “something” was actually a person, the exact same person he was thinking about.

“Akutagawa! I mean, Ryuunosuke? What are you doing here?”

Ryuunosuke groaned, rubbing his chin where Atsushi had run into him. “Well, I was going to surprise you, but I think you just ended up surprising me,” he muttered.

Atsushi laughed and helped Ryuunosuke up. “Oops, sorry about that. Are you off work? Wanna do something?”

“Like a date?” Ryuunosuke smirked.

Atsushi blushed. “No! I mean, yes? If you want to? I don’t want to pressure you-”

Ryuunosuke covered Atsushi’s mouth with his hand to keep him from rambling. “Relax, I actually came here to see if you were free to go to the movies with me. A new movie came out that I want to see, and I was wondering if you were up for going on our date now,” Ryuunosuke coughed into his hand, blushing.

Atsushi beamed. “Yes! Let’s go!” Without thinking, Atsushi grabbed Ryuunosuke’s hand to drag him to the theater, and turned red when Ryuunosuke squeezed his hand back.

They talked about their days on the way to the movie, which Atsushi now realized he had never actually asked Ryuunosuke which movie it was.

“So… what are we seeing?”

“The new Alien movie,” Ryuunosuke smiled.

Atsushi stopped. Shit, he hadn’t thought about the fact that Ryuunosuke liked horror movies. He gulped, and Ryuunosuke frowned at him.

“Are you scared of horror movies? We can just go see something else,” Ryuunosuke told him.

“No! I just haven’t heard of it before,” Atsushi laughed nervously. “Let’s go,” Atsushi told him, walking into the theater before he changed his mind.

Taking a seat in the back row, Atsushi breathed in and out. “Calm down, it’s just a horror movie,” he thought to himself.

Thirty minutes into the movie Atsushi had regretted everything. The aliens were terrifying and he knew he wasn’t going to sleep tonight. A particular jump attack had Atsushi holding onto Ryuunosuke’s arm for dear life.

“Atsushi, we don’t have to stay,” Ryuunosuke whispered, holding Atsushi back.

“No, it’s okay. I’m fine as long as I have you with me,” Atsushi whispered back, smiling back.

Ryuunosuke’s eyes widened, before he wrapped his arm fully around Atsushi, and Atsushi buried his head into Ryuunosuke’s shoulder during the particularly scary parts.

Once the movie was over, Atsushi let out a sigh of relief. Then he realized he would have to let go of Ryuunosuke, and he felt disappointed. However, whenever he went to let go of Ryuunosuke, Ryuunosuke gripped his arm tighter.

Atsushi raised an eyebrow at him. Ryuunosuke blushed, and stood up with Atsushi, moving to grip his hand instead. Atsushi smiled, and they walked out of the theater.

“So… how did you like it?” Ryuunosuke teased him.

Atsushi glared at him. “I’ll stick to Disney, thanks,” Atsushi shuddered.

Ryuunosuke laughed, and this time Atsushi felt himself blush. He always felt a surge of pride run through him when he could make Ryuunosuke laugh, knowing that most people never saw this side of him.

“Wanna come back to my apartment for a bit?” Atsushi asked. “Kyouka is staying with a friend so, it’s just me tonight,” he added.

Ryuunosuke nodded, and they walked to Atsushi’s place. As soon as they got into Atsushi’s apartment, Atsushi turned on all of the lights and looked under all of the furniture as Ryuunosuke struggled not to laugh at him.

“You’re mean,” Atsushi pouted, when Ryuunosuke couldn’t hold it in any longer and chuckled.

Ryuunosuke wrapped his arms around Atsushi, and Atsushi melted. “Maybe, but you still keep me around anyway,” Ryuunosuke murmured in his ear. Atsushi shivered and pulled back, and the look in Ryuunosuke’s eyes made his insides twist. He looked away, and decided to put in another Disney movie.

Ryuunosuke groaned, and sat down on the couch. “If there’s another cringey romance scene I’m leaving,” he muttered.

Atsushi paused in putting in “Snow White” and Ryuunosuke rolled his eyes.

Atsushi snuggled up to Ryuunosuke and started the movie. By the time they finished, Atsushi was sniffling and Ryuunosuke was annoyed.

“That’s such a sexist and stupid movie,” he said.

“What? No it’s not!” Atsushi argued.

“Is too! A woman, or anybody, shouldn’t need a stupid kiss by a man to be validated! Besides, why should the Queen take out her anger on Snow White instead of the patriarchy?”

Atsushi thought about it. “I guess you’re right. Then again, this movie was also made in 1937,” he replied.

“Besides, how can a kiss be so magical?” Ryuunosuke continued.

“Are you saying that because you haven’t kissed anyone? Atsushi teased.

Ryuunosuke blushed. “N-no! I don’t need to have kissed anyone to know that it wouldn’t break a magic spell,” he muttered.

Atsushi paused. “You really haven’t kissed anyone?”

Ryuunosuke coughed into his hand. “Why would I?”

Atsushi shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t kissed anyone either,” he whispered.

They fell into an awkward silence, and Atsushi regretted bringing it up.

“I better go, it’s late…” Ryuunosuke said, getting up from the couch. Atsushi cringed, blaming himself for screwing things up.

“Right,” Atsushi replied, getting off of Ryuunosuke. He walked him to the door, and Ryuunosuke turned to him. Bracing himself for rejection, Atsushi stiffened. Instead, he felt Ryuunosuke’s lips on his.

Atsushi’s eyes widened, but before he could fully process what was happening, Ryuunosuke pulled back.

“See you tomorrow, Atsushi,” Ryuunosuke told him, his face red.

Once Ryuunosuke had fully closed the door, Atsushi let out the breath he had been holding.

He didn’t know how Akutagawa had felt, but that sure felt like magic to him.

[aiupenn]

Hungry Like the Wolf

Osamu and Ranpo go to get some pastries after a mission together. Ranpo shows some unexpected kindness and Osamu comes up with a rather childish plan. [read it on ao3]

"Dazai... I want some of that."

Osamu comes to a sudden stop as Ranpo latches onto his jacket sleeve. The detective's eyes are closed, but Osamu doesn't have to see what he's looking at to know what he's talking about. They'd just passed a pastry shop and if he knew Ranpo (and he did) that would be what he was eyeing.

He had not intention of indulging Ranpo's habit. As much of a fondness he held for the man, his wallet didn't love his obsession with sugar. It was always difficult to say 'no', though, when he looked so innocent and sweet. He practically glowed as he studied the array of tarts, donuts, and cream puffs. Osamu felt his resolve for his wallet falter.

But that was only for a moment. The temptation of eating food other than instant ramen this month was too strong. He looks to Ranpo, who in turn looks to him expectantly. Osamu gives a thoughtful hum, as if he's really considering it. Ranpo's grasp on his sleeve tightens.

And then Osamu takes a decisive step in the other direction. Ranpo lets out a cry of distress, but he feels the other man stumble after him, still clinging to his sleeve. After a moment, he even lets go of that with a huff. Osamu wouldn't care to say out loud that he felt a stab of guilt.

Still, he's disappointed with himself that he's not willing to go and stop his friend(?) when he clearly starts sneaking back to the pastry shop. He really is going too soft...

He stops for a minute to feign interest in a street artist before turning to go after him. Osamu glances through the front window to see Ranpo chatting it up with the store clerk, a paper bag full of pastries overflowing in his arms. This man may be the end of me... he thinks, sadly not very regretfully. Starvation wouldn't be his chosen end, but perhaps ending his life in defense of Ranpo (or rather, his love of sweets) wouldn't be so bad. It would be nice if he cried if he died...

He shook his head, embarrassed by his own fanciful line of thinking. If he's this desperate for attention from the detective, he'll end up just as praise-hungry as Ranpo.

He walks in to disrupt the conversation between Ranpo and the clerk, much to the clerk's relief it seems. She looks terribly annoyed with the man, which is not all that surprising. Despite his rather astounding intelligence, social situations never went well with him. He always ended up bragging, going on for too long about the most recent case he'd solved.

Ranpo doesn't turn to acknowledge his partner(?) until he slides up next to him at the counter. "Ah! Dazai!" He beams briefly, but turns away immediately to scurry off to a table with an armful of his goodies.

Osamu tries to hold in a sigh as he looks to the clerk with the sweetest face he could muster. She was a beauty, certainly (in his opinion, most people were), but it was difficult finding the enthusiasm to flirt with her when he'd much rather flirt with the man sitting without him. All the same, he rummages through his wallet while looking up to the clerk through his eyelashes, "Ah... Pardon him, ma'am. I'll be paying the bill," he fishes out the yen and looks her in the eyes, "I hope he wasn't causing you any sort of trouble? I don't want to imagine a lady as pretty as you inconvenienced by someone such as him." The 'him' in question, wasn't giving Osamu so much a second glance from the table he'd sat at. It would be nice if he at least thanked him for paying. Although, he knew better than to expect as much from Ranpo at this point. Osamu wants to keep looking at him and study every feature to see if he has any sort of reaction from his next actions, but that's just the hopelessly in love (hmm... he didn't like that word.) hopelessly infatuated side of him.

He hands the woman the yen, but before her hand leaves the counter, he takes it lightly in his. "Ma'am, i have to admit that I've been waiting for this moment alone with you..." he looks up with a earnestness he doesn't really buy himself, "You see, I have an important question to ask you," he sucks in a breath, "Would you commit--"

"Dazai!" Ranpo's voice reaches his ears from the other end of the shop. It's got a whine to it that Osamu kind of likes, "I got us poison-filled jelly donuts!"

Osamu can't help but feel his heart leap for two reasons. 1) Ranpo had called to him right as things were going to get romantic. Not that he believed the detective really had feelings for him (Osamu was fairly certain he'd know if he did with how ridiculously often he studied the man). 2) Poison-filled jelly donuts were a delicious way to die.

His attention was very efficiently diverted and he abandoned his conversation immediately to glide into the seat across from Ranpo. "Edogawa! You'd commit double suicide with me? And for something so small as buying you pastries?" He made his eyes shine with excitement as he looked for the promised donuts.

"I lied," Ranpo said in monotone before taking a bite from a cream puff.

Osamu deflated immediately, laying his cheek on the table, "Your so cruel to me, Edogawa."

Ranpo ignored his comment completely. Something warm pushed against Osamu's hair. "Will coffee do?" Ranpo asked.

Osamu shot up from the table. Genuine surprise and delight crossed his face for just a moment (Smother that, he reminds himself). He'd never go so far as to say Ranpo didn't care for others--he'd seen him go out of his way to solve little mysteries too many times to believe that--but, Ranpo wasn't exactly... 'kind'. Osamu suspected it was very much a front, the same way his over-exaggerated nature was. Ranpo wasn't the type to be giving, although sometimes it was very clear he wanted to. He wanted to be smart and feel above others, and kindness wasn't how you got there. Osamu knew that well.

"Ah~~ For me~~?" he puts on the most delighted face he can manage, although it's not difficult. The joy is mostly genuine. He flicks his gaze up to Ranpo's closed eyes, "Do--Do I dare dream that you bought me a cup of detergent as well?"

"Of course not." Ranpo starts eating a lemon tart.

Now be disappointed, Osamu. "For a moment I thought you cared, Ranpo..." he slumped again against the table.

It was nice to think that Ranpo had consciously decided to pick up a drink for him. Ranpo probably didn't think much of it himself, though. Osamu's desperate heart is getting itself into trouble now with all this hopeful thoughts. Much longer, and he'd be head over heels in love. He tried to hide his sigh as he picked up the cup of coffee, the warmth spreading quickly through his fingers.

He hadn't realized he'd been smiling. "Ah~" Can you imagine how mad Kunikida will be that we took this detour and made him late..." He excuses away the pleasent expression with such a comment and looks over the top of his drink at Ranpo.

His coworker(?) had a strange expression on his face, a lot like the one he had when he was considering a very fascinating murder. His eyes were closed, but it was fairly clear that his full attention was on Osamu and his coffee. It made his heart flutter, although he'd be loath to admit it. What was Ranpo so fascinated by? Is he... worried I won't like it? he wonders.

It's unusually difficult for him to force down the heat rising to his cheeks. Osamu Dazai is most certainly not someone who gets flustered when his crush (hmm... it's a bit of a stronger emotion than that) gives him their full attention, even when their full attention is hard to get if you're not a slowly rotting corpse, and he especially doesn't get flustered when this is happening seconds after said crush was doing something uncharacteristically kind.

Ahh~ He's almost certainly lying to himself if his heartbeat is anything to go by. Osamu Dazai is definitely flustered. Who knew such an aloof, arrogant detective would be the one to make him feel that way?

Lucky for him, it seems like he might not be the only flustered one because Ranpo pointedly turns away to take a bite of his tart as soon as he notices Osamu's eyes on him. Osamu can't help but smile a little at this, although somewhere deep down he knows he's reading too much into it. In either case, he finally tips the cup back to take a sip.

And immediately has to stifle a choke.

After a brief moment of struggle, he forces it down. "Is--is that black?" he tries to sound inquisitive, but knows he's failing miserably. He feels his heart sinking by the moment.

He had tried to tell himself he was getting too hopeful. After all that daydreaming, Ranpo had only given it to him as a prank after all. It's his own fault in the end; he should have known better than to get so wishful.

Ranpo turns to look at him with a satisfied smirk, "I was right, wasn't I?" Osamu tries to hide his confusion, "That's the way you like it. A good detective will always know the way his partner likes his coffee!"

Osamu's entire face flushes and he knows that Ranpo can see. He wasn't able to smother it before it happened. Ranpo had been wrong, but he hadconsciously paid attention and bought the coffee black just for him. God, his heart just wouldn’t stop pounding. This was ridiculous. When exactly had he fallen so in love like with this man?

He lets his eyes sparkle with real glee as he got another sip. “Edogawa~ You are a genius!”

Ranpo takes the compliment in his usual way: looking annoyingly smug.

By the time Ranpo reached into his bag to get a donut, Osamu was already devising a plan to make his partner (that was the right word. for now at least) just a flustered as he was. After all, Osamu might enjoy the attention, but he most certainly didn’t enjoy the removal of his mask. It made everything unreasonably complicated.

Now, he’d never truly grown out of being childish (quite obviously), but even he had to admit that the plan he was hatching was childish. It reminded him vaguely of the indirect kisses middle schoolers got so embarrassed over. It made him question if he was throwing his pride out of the window just for some simple payback.

But, he was also nothing if not impulsive.

”Hey, Edogawa. I want some of that,” Osamu said, pointing to Ranpo’s donut.

Just as planned, the other man went on the defensive immediately. He tried to eat the rest of the donut as he shook his head. Osamu would have none of that this time around.

He stood and leaned over the table, his hand only narrowly escaping knocking over the cup of coffee. Ranpo looked slightly alarmed. Osamu smirked.

He placed his index finger lightly under Ranpo’s chin to get him to face his direction. Then, he leaned in close, tilting his head ever so slightly so he won’t run into his partner’s nose. Ranpo doesn’t immediately jerk away, which makes a small part of Osamu excited, but also doubtful. Perhaps this is just a truly terrible idea. Ah. No chance to think of that now, though.

Their lips brush lightly as Osamu takes a bite of the donut sticking out of Ranpo’s mouth. He knew he was imagining it again, but he felt the other man suck in a breath of shock as their lips touch. The touch is lighter than two feathers, but Osamu’s heart flutters involuntarily, even though he’d planned this exact moment all along. Damn. He’s so terribly hopeless.

He sits back in his seat, acting as if nothing unusual had happened. ”Mmmm~ That was delicious! Thank you for sharing, Edogawa~!” Osamu wipes away the glaze from the corner of his mouth with his thumb, brushing the finger along his lips as well. His lips feel almost like they're burning, vibrating with some sort of excitement. He wants to keep the feeling there, and somehow the obvious answer to that is put your hands over the top of it. That will definitely keep the feeling in. Childish.

He makes as subtle of eye contact possible with Ranpo, although he'd like it if he could watch him like a wolf watches it's prey without making his true motives even more obvious. Osamu sticks out his tongue, and licks the glaze off his thumb, licking from his knuckle to the tip. He sucks on the nail for just a moment, getting rid of the rest of sugar before humming in satisfaction.

Ranpo was definitely staring, but he wasn’t showing any of his other feelings on the entire encounter. What a pity Osamu had found himself with a man who rivaled him in his ability to hide his feelings.

After an embarrassingly long pause, Ranpo did betray some emotion, although Osamu had to admit he had no clue what it meant. His green eyes opened to just a slit and leveled a glare at him. It was impossible to tell, but Osamu hoped that it had a bit of playfulness to it, because if Ranpo was well and truly pissed… Well, the only benefit would be that it would be interesting.

There was a moment a little like a standoff where neither moved until Ranpo closed his eyes once more and stood, taking his bag of treats with him. He had the briefest of words with the clerk (who—if the color of her ears were anything to go by—had witnessed their exchange) and got a box full of donuts. He doesn’t look to Osamu again, only tilts his head in his direction for a moment and skips out the door.

The clerk panics a bit, “Wait! You have to pay for that, sir!” Osamu lets a sigh, but he’s not sure if he’s annoyed by Ranpo’s behavior or lack of reaction.

He grabs the terrible black coffee off the table and walks to the counter. “I’ve got it,” he told her with a smile, handing over the yen, “I apologize once again for his behavior.” A wink, and he’s followed Ranpo out the door. His partner is leaning against the wall just outside, enjoying a donut.

”You’re going to make poor me broke, Edogawa…” he says, “I needed some of that money to buy some proper cyanide capsules…”

”Don’t steal my donuts and you won’t have to pay extra,” Ranpo responds, pursing his lips

Immediately, Osamu grabs one from the box. Ranpo makes a noise of protest, but he—taking advantage of his slightly taller height—holds it high above his head. “Don’t make me buy them and I won’t steal them~” Ranpo makes a jump for his pastry, but Osamu is one step ahead as he takes a bite.

Ranpo huffs. “Mmm~ Delicious~” Osamu says, smiling.

He’s unprepared for the lips that brush along his fingers as Ranpo takes the donut from his hand with his mouth. Osamu draws back in shock as his partner finishes it off. Once again, he’s unable to hide the blush. His fingers feel numb where he felt Ranpo’s breath on his fingertips.

Apparently, accidental flirtation on Ranpo’s end was his downfall. After all that effort, he was still the only one flustered in the end.

He lets out a silent shaky breath before humming in a (hopefully) disinterested way. “Let’s hope Kunikida isn’t too mad at me, hmm, Edogawa?”

Ranpo: 1, Osamu: 0.

[izanyas]

Well-Wishes

Commission for @onelovelysin​! Feat. Chuuya getting injured and having a crush.

Rating: T Words: 3,900 Warnings: car accident, mentions of suicide

Well-Wishes

"One minute and thirteen seconds."

Chuuya's stream of consciousness after using Corruption had been identical the first two times. Now, as he lay upon the cold wet ground in the wake of the third, it didn't change at all.

It fucking hurts.

"Shut it," he rasped without opening his eyes.

Dazai chuckled coldly. Something skin-warm brushed over Chuuya's forehead, and Chuuya flinched away, unable to avoid crying out from the strain.

"Fuck, don't touch me—"

"You'd think I was diseased or something, the way you avoid me."

"You are! The sight of you makes me wanna barf!"

It took effort to open his blood-crusted eyes, but Chuuya did it, thankful for the soft moonlight around them. Dazai's head masked half of the sky that peered through the burst-open roof. He was crouched beside him, peering down with curiosity.

"I'm in perfect health," he told Chuuya. "If my handsome face is enough to make you puke then your stomach is way too weak for the job."

"Piss off," Chuuya spat. His saliva tasted of blood.

Dazai grinned.

He didn't try to touch him again, though. Not until Chuuya had regained enough of himself, enough warmth and movement through his limbs, to push himself into a sitting position. Corruption was easier to shake off now than it had been the last time, and it would be easier the next, he knew; but still it had run its rampage through his body, destroying blood vessels and bruising his hands and legs. His fingers thrummed with sharp pain.

"How do you feel?" Dazai asked conversationally.

"Like I've got arthritis or some shit."

"They do say the mind ages first."

"I'm sure that was a very smart and convoluted way of insulting me," Chuuya muttered, dragging his knees toward his chest, "so I'm not gonna give you the satisfaction of reacting."

"Oh, Chuuya." Dazai sounded positively gleeful. "Everything you do entertains me."

It was probably a lie, but Chuuya didn't know Dazai enough to even begin unraveling it. For the year they had sort of known each other, Dazai had acted like a constant, like someone playing a part, never like a real human. He threw insults like compliments and compliments like backhanded strikes, smiling coldly and staring with intent. Chuuya thought sometimes that Dazai liked him. He thought sometimes that Dazai hated him.

Trying to keep up with it was downright exhausting.

"Whatever," he groaned. He took a deep breath before shifting to his knees, swallowing back another cry of pain. "Just help me up."

"Of course."

At least Dazai knew how to handle him post-Corruption now. The first time, he had grabbed Chuuya by the wrist and almost made him pass out from the pain; now he took him by the middle, one hand at Chuuya's armpit as he dragged him to his feet. It was a lot more awkward but a lot less painful. Dazai frogmarched him like this through the upended floor, out of the ruined warehouse and back into the low-lit street. There was a patch of grass at the back of the building. They wiped the soles of their shoes free of blood on it.

Dazai didn't let him go, no doubt sensing that Chuuya wouldn't be able to walk on his own yet. Chuuya chose not to thank him for it—it was his fault Corruption had been needed in the first place—and instead said, "One-thirteen, huh," recalling Dazai's report.

"Yes. Last time's record still holds true."

"Do you count every time?"

Dazai shifted his hold on him, his grip lowering to Chuuya' waist. Chuuya ignored the warmth he felt at that. "So far," he replied.

Chuuya didn't know how to answer him. He didn't know how to make small talk with Dazai, who wasn't anything like the other people he took orders from or worked with. He made himself walk on aching feet, refusing to use more than the strength Dazai already allowed him to borrow. He felt too cold to be soothed by the cool nightly air. Corruption left him a mess in more than just the physical; Chuuya was fraught with anxiety, and he knew this wouldn't abate with time, no matter how many times he used the damn ability.

He still wasn't sure if Corruption was an ability in itself or just an extension of one. Dazai had been the one to come up with the name all those months ago, and he probably thought himself clever for the wordplay, but Chuuya couldn't find humor in it at all. He couldn't find pride in being perhaps the first person ever to hold two powers within himself, not with how this one manifested.

"It looks like it hurts," Dazai said lowly, as if reading his thoughts.

Chuuya snarled. "What the fuck do you think?" he replied. He tried to lift the hand that wasn't slumped around Dazai's back loosely, to show off the bruising, and failed.

Dazai's grip tightened around him. Chuuya could feel his chest expand every time he breathed, slightly off-tempo with his own.

"Do you remember anything when you use it?" Dazai asked.

Chuuya didn't answer. The feeling of his body moving of its own volition, the release of anger and tension as he watched from within the cage of his skull, the pain bursting through him that he could do nothing to flinch away from… those were not things he knew how to put into words.

"I just want to sleep," he muttered. "Hurry up and get us a cab."

"No cab's going to take us with the way we look, Chuuya. We're walking the way back."

"Ugh."

He let Dazai drag him on the sidewalk, and the way his legs pushed forward felt a little like he was trapped again. He blinked when tears started burning in his eyes. He was too tired to feel more than vaguely ashamed.

"You really need to learn how to control it," Dazai said.

They were approaching a crossroad. The only car in sight was still far in the distance, wavering slightly in its lane toward them. It stopped, at one point. Probably a drunk driver.

Chuuya hissed when Dazai hoisted him closer, and Dazai spoke again before he could protest. "I'm serious, hat rack. The fact that you call yourself my partner when you can't even control your powers is humiliating."

"I don't call myself your anything," Chuuya replied through clenched teeth, glaring at the side of Dazai's face. "And that's fucking easy for you to say, isn't it? Your ability is the easiest shit to control in the world."

"It has its disadvantages."

"Like what?"

He meant it as offense, because he couldn't imagine No Longer Human coming as anything but perfectly helpful, but Dazai said, "Well, even Corruption can't kill me."

It took a second for the words to register in Chuuya's mind. When they did, he kicked Dazai away from him.

It turned out to be a terrible idea—he was definitely not ready to walk on his own yet, and it took tremendous strength of will not to start heaving as pain raced up his thighs and back, and then down all the way to the tips of his fingers. Chuuya withstood it with gritted teeth, glaring at the way Dazai caught himself against the wall of the restaurant they were walking next to.

"What the fuck," he growled.

"I haven't tested it yet," Dazai said airily. He brushed imaginary dust off of the sleeves of his coat. "But I'm reasonably sure even your nifty little gravity bombs would vanish when touching me."

"You're not going to try."

"Why not?"

He had asked it with bright honestly, with no self-consciousness or shame at all. Chuuya could do nothing but stare, speechless.

Dazai smiled. It wasn't a kind expression at all. "Don't take it personally," he said. "Even if it works, Mori won't blame you for murder. He knows how I am."

"Shut up," Chuuya snapped. He wanted nothing more than to clench his hands into fists—only the perspective of pain prevented him from trying. He took a step toward Dazai and said, "Since you're so damn smart, did you think at all about how I would feel?"

"How you would feel?"

"Yes, Dazai. How I would fucking feel about killing you."

Dazai blinked at him slowly. "You kill people for a living," he pointed out.

"I kill enemies. Not coworkers."

The word felt weird—Chuuya didn't think of anyone as a coworker, not standing at sixteen years old in the messy hierarchy of the port mafia—but it was better than calling Dazai a partner or a friend.

He only had one friend, and she would be disappointed if she saw how worked up he was now.

"I'd die if you died before bringing me back," he said.

Dazai huffed. "Like I care," he replied. "Corruption might as well be my ability, when you think about it."

"It's really fucking not."

"It is. After all, you can only use it when I give you the go." His lips stretched again. He leaned against the wall nonchalantly. "So," he added, "technically, it would be suicide. You can rest easy, Chuuya, you wouldn't be killing anyone."

His words made the soft of Chuuya's belly tense and squirm, made his tongue feel so heavy in his mouth that he couldn't speak at all.

Dazai wasn't the one tearing holes through the fabric of the city with his fingers. Dazai wasn't the one making human beings' limbs vanish and leaving them to bleed out—he wasn't the one shaking from a rage whose inception was unknown, he wasn't the one trapped inside of his own head as his body decided that living mattered not, when one could die in a blaze of unstoppable violence.

He was shaking, he realized. His skin felt too tight around him, as if every bone in his body was now pushing outward.

"Fuck you," he breathed. "You're not using Corruption to kill yourself."

"Why are you so upset?" Dazai asked. It truly was his luck that Chuuya's anger had no more room to grow. "We're only speaking in hypotheticals—I know Corruption wouldn't work. It's not like you care if I die anyway."

Chuuya held his breath, paying no mind to the sound of the car from earlier starting again, its driver no doubt coming out of their early stage of coma. In the glow of its frontlights Dazai looked deathly pale, like a bleached rag, a bloodless corpse; Chuuya couldn't figure out at all the sort of answer he was waiting for, if he wanted Chuuya to lie and say that he didn't, if he wanted Chuuya to tell the truth and admit that he didn't know.

The light grew around them, the sound of the car's engine coming perilously close. Chuuya was still out of his own mind when he turned his head to look at it.

It was running on the sidewalk.

The strip of concrete was wide enough that two meters at least separated Chuuya from Dazai, without Chuuya having set foot onto the road; yet the car was close to the doors and devantures of the shops around them, its side mirror breaking cleanly away as it accelerated—Chuuya's head snapped back around with a warning, with Dazai's name etched on his lips. The sight of Dazai's face made it die without ever leaving them.

Chuuya's legs pushed him into a run, adrenaline canceling pain for the second it took to fist his hands into the lapels of Dazai's coat and throw him out of the way.

Then he felt nothing at all.

--

"I'm going to die," Chuuya groaned, blinking blearily at the ceiling.

Kouyou patted his greasy hair, not looking away from the screen of her laptop. Her lips were shaking between disgust and amusement. "You need a shower," she replied.

"You think I don't want one?"

All he could take were sponge baths, and he couldn't even take them alone. Chuuya still wasn't sure which was the lesser hell between letting Kouyou do it and letting the old, mean nurse who supervised the port mafia headquarters' hospital ward do it. At least the old mean nurse wasn't living with him.

He grunted weakly when pain traveled through his legs. "Can I get more—"

"No."

"Fuck you." He was grateful for the febrility that came with the painkillers, because he was pretty sure that this would have warranted him more than just a warning glare in normal circumstances. "M'sorry," he amended. "Shit, I think I want to die."

"Don't be so dramatic," Kouyou murmured.

"I'm so bored I might just die anyway. My brain's gonna atrophy."

"Not that there's much of a brain to speak of," came a new voice.

The sound of it was so absurd to Chuuya that he didn't even see Dazai at first. Dazai hadn't visited him at all so far. It had taken Chuuya almost an hour to even remember what had happened when he woke up, and when he had, only the drugs had numbed his worry. The old mean nurse only to visit him once every two hours, and he had been alone until then, wondering if Dazai had even made it. She had found him halfway through the wide room, crawling on the floor despite his injuries, checking each bed for sign of Dazai being there.

Of course, Dazai hadn't been there. He had escaped out of the accident with only a bruise. That had been two days ago already.

"Dazai-kun," Kouyou said pleasantly, at the same time as Chuuya spat, "Get the fuck out of here."

"How mean," Dazai replied, stepping into the room. "Not you, of course, Kouyou-sama. It's always a pleasure to see you."

He handed her a fucking bouquet, and Kouyou played along with glee, one hand pressed delicately against her lips as she took it. "My, you shouldn't have. I'll be sure to water them and keep them out of Chuuya's reach."

"I'll throw them out the window," Chuuya grumbled.

"See?" she said, getting out of the armchair. "He's never learned how to receive a gift courteously."

Chuuya glared at Dazai with all the strength left in him while Kouyou went to fetch water. Dazai didn't seem to mind, judging by the way he smiled down at him. Chuuya wished both of his legs weren't broken. He would've loved to kick him again.

"You should listen to her," he said, patting one of Chuuya's casts. He took a pen out of his pocket. "Hey, can I write anything on those?"

"No."

"However will you stop me?"

Chuuya did stop him, straining his abs to sit up on the bed and grab Dazai by his ridiculous hair before he was done writing half a kanji. Kouyou found them like this when she came back—Dazai grinning like a maniac and Chuuya spilling rapid-fire insults, ripping hair out of his scalp. She looked pointedly at them both.

They let go of each other. Chuuya felt more flustered than he had in eons.

"It's a good thing you're here, Dazai-kun," she said. She set the flowers on a table out of Chuuya's immediate vicinity and ignored the way he scowled at her. "I have to go take care of some business, so I can't take Chuuya out on a stroll like I did yesterday."

Dazai stopped smirking. Chuuya stopped thinking.

"I'm sorry," the other replied smoothly. "I was only passing by—"

"Come now, boy," Kouyou cut in icily. "I know Ougai-dono has given you the day off. Surely you can help alleviate poor Chuuya's boredom—he's been rather vocal about how much he hates being here on his own."

"I don't want him taking me out," Chuuya protested.

"Warn Nurse Shido, will you?" Kouyou asked Dazai sweetly.

The subdued way Dazai obeyed her would've been hilarious if not for Chuuya's own outrage. He watched, scandalized, as Dazai walked out of the room, and Kouyou brought forth the wheelchair he had borrowed the day before.

"I can move myself around," he said.

"I know," Kouyou replied. "I'm not doing this for you." Before he could ask what she meant, she tapped the side of the chair and added, "Can you get in this alone or do I need to manhandle you?"

Chuuya floated himself to the chair wordlessly.

"I'll come by again tonight," she said once he was seated safely, his twisted arm now held in a sling. Then, as Dazai's steps approached again, she bent down and whispered, "Give him this, Chuuya. He was in quite the state when he finally managed to bring you home."

Chuuya had no idea what she was talking about, and he lost track of any Dazai-related thought when she pressed a kiss to his cheek. Kouyou laughed gently at the way his face darkened; he still felt as though all the blood in his body was hovering there by the time she left and Dazai came back in.

Dazai either didn't notice his blush or thought it due to the strain of moving. He approached with slow steps, looking intently over Chuuya's face and body—and somehow it made him feel even more restless, even more as if some energy he had no hold over was shifting under his skin.

When he was no more than a foot away, Chuuya said, "If you touch that chair I'm going to throttle you."

"Not my ideal way to go," Dazai grimaced.

Just like that, the weird tension was gone.

It had taken no more than ten seconds for Chuuya to figure out how to move the chair the day before. It took even less for him to move it now, making it weightless under him and pushing himself forward with his one good hand on the wall. The only thing Dazai did was grab the metal pole holding his medicine and carry it along.

"How long until you're out of the casts?" he asked, tranquil, as they reached the elevator.

"Two weeks for the arm and ribs," Chuuya replied, recalling Shido's explanations hazily. "A month for the legs. I'll have to lay off training for a while."

"So you will make a full recovery."

Chuuya glanced at him in surprise. "Yeah," he answered. "It's just a couple broken bones. Clean breaks, too. I got lucky."

Dazai didn't answer. He followed Chuuya to the tenth floor balcony in silence.

It was a thing of wonder, that balcony. Hirotsu's pet project. It more than made up for the lack of a garden, what with the flowers and small trees planted all along its length. It was turned toward sea and sun. Even mid-winter, this time of the day found it filled with light.

Chuuya relaxed a little. He let go of his control of the chair once he reached the edge and gathered his jacket closer around himself. "You got cigarettes?" he asked.

"Sure."

Dazai being accommodating was not something Chuuya was used to, but he was a little drunk now, with exhaustion and drugs and pain, so he didn't question it. He took the pack Dazai procured from him and dragged a cigarette out of it, placing it between his lips. He blinked in surprise when Dazai held a flame up for him to light it with.

"Does Kouyou know you smoke?" Dazai asked, snapping the lighter shut.

"If you tell her I'll tell Mori about the last 'sick day' you took," Chuuya replied. He air-quoted it, one-handed.

Dazai made a face.

They smoked next to each other, overlooking the sunlit bay. Chuuya couldn't see very far down from his seat in the chair, but the sky was enough for now. The fresh air had already calmed him down; the seagulls' songs ringing in the sea wind had lessened his headache.

"Chuuya," Dazai said. Chuuya looked at him lazily, and Dazai was staring ahead, crushing the lit end of his cigarette onto the bannister before throwing the stub into the street. "Why did you do it?"

"Do what?"

Dazai moved before he could, crouching down on the floor and then resting on his knees; he didn't sit either, just grabbed each arm of the chair and pushed forth into Chuuya's own space, until Chuuya was pressed into the back of the chair to avoid knocking their noses together. His ribs ached from the stress.

Dazai was a little below him like this. It was the first time Chuuya had ever looked down at him instead of up.

"You could've died," Dazai said. There was something a little loose in his expression, something a little greedy.

Chuuya tensed further. "I didn't," he replied. "I could've crushed that fucking car—"

"Then why didn't you?"

"Because there was no time, bastard, would you rather I'd let it hit you?"

He regretted asking as soon as the words left his lips, but Dazai didn't spring along with any sort of morbid humor. He simply looked at him.

Chuuya licked his lips quickly. "I don't know why I did it," he said. "I just did it."

"You're lying."

Chuuya glared at him. Dazai smiled slowly; he tapped his own cheek with two fingers. "You have a tell," he explained. "Your face gets all twitchy. You're very easy to read, you know."

"Fuck you. You don't know anything about me."

"Don't I?"

Dazai fell back a little, just so his backside rested on his heels. Sitting like this must be uncomfortable for him—Chuuya couldn't imagine that he was the type to kneel this way outside of rare formalities—but he didn't show it at all.

"You get angry easily, but you're also surprisingly level-headed," Dazai said. "You're loyal. You don't mind killing people as long as they're not your people. You enjoy going all out but you're scared of it too—you're terrified of what you can do. You're terrified of things you can't control."

Dazai's face at the time hadn't left Chuuya once since he woke up in the scratchy bed of the ward. The painkillers numbed him to the core and allowed him escape from the thunder-like quality of what he had realized, seeing him like this—struck immobile into the fast-approaching light of the car, wide-eyed, as if someone had pressed pause on a video—but he couldn't unsee it. Not ever.

Dazai had looked nearly childish. Chuuya saw it again now in the shadow of his eyes. He heard it in the frayed edges of his voice.

"You were scared," Chuuya said.

Dazai could talk all he wanted about death, about terror—he had been scared in that moment. He hadn't wanted to die. There was nothing else Chuuya could have done but answer his unspoken call for help.

He blushed at the thought and didn't voice it himself, but Dazai didn't need him to, if his knowing smile was anything to go by. "See," he said, using the arms of the chair to push himself upright. The movement brought him close enough that his next words broke over Chuuya's face with a shiver, spoken right by his forehead. "You are easy to read."

"I'm just tired," Chuuya replied, hoping in vain that his face wasn't too red.

He didn't protest when Dazai circled the chair this time, not even as he took its handles and steered him back toward the building.

"I guess I could do worse than a partner willing to jump in front of a car for me," he said.

"Don't get used to it, asshole. Next time I'm watching your sorry ass get hit."

Wind rushed through the opening of the door, swallowing the sound of the first genuine laughter Dazai had ever given him.