#Why did he feel the need to make himself so vulnerable in front of Atsushi?????? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

asturlavi · 3 years

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oh boy, do i have wonderful beast oda/odazai info for you all since this may just be my favorite chapter in all of beast. it clarified a lot about oda's state in this au, and how sad it truly is, especially with all that dazai has done to ensure that oda's safety is certain

before i start, this was initially intended to be a quirky little twitter thread that’s supposed to be kicked off with a badly drawn doodle of something meme. the thread was supposed to be about how wonderfully dumb odasaku can be and how annoyingly frustrating dazai is in the latest beast chapter... and then it slowly devolved into a crudely written essay about small discoveries i’ve made that most likely haven’t been pointed out before, so i recommend that anyone interested in either oda or odazai to check this out

so i finally got around to reading the new beast chapter and seeing how odasaku constantly devalues himself and finds that he's lesser than the average person is… sad. its been said that him and ranpo are the stars of the ada, every mission trivial with their cooperation, and yet he doesn't see any of that. thinks he struck luck when it came to his entrance exam, which he specifies that it wasn't as a result of his own skills. his inferiority complex is embedded so deep that despite his achievements, he doesn't at all believe he has any worth as a human.

i'm just a tired, ordinary man like you could find anywhere. a third-rate detective, as unexceptional as a fallen cigarette butt on the road.

and his entrance exam was just like dazai's: the azure messenger case, which we all know wasn't at all a walk in the park. one mistake, and it would spell disaster for the city that the ada was trying to protect. no--not just the city, it would also mean the end of the ada as we know it. despite it all, he resolved it much to his own surprise, and it was all thanks to an "unexpected" gift. and that gift? who would it be other than from dazai himself?

beast light novel ch. 3

(also, this is a shaky claim at best but I feel as if oda fully holds the capabilities to solve the case alone, but dazai knew that with odasaku's persistent feelings of self-doubt, along with his lack of some of the vivacity that dazai held to weasel his way through to information, the outcome of success wouldn’t be guaranteed. and so, dazai lent him something to ensure his success)

and yet, oda is blind to see truly how much intellect and skill he possesses. he doesn't realize how integral he was to the quest of the azure messenger, doesn't acknowledge that without him these orphans would have either slipped into a life of crime, gone to a downtrodden orphanage, or simply passed away, and he doesn't know that despite it all, he's one of the purest characters in the story, even with the darkness that will forever cling to him, a reminder of the violence that marred his past.

not to mention that oda, in one way or another, effectively analyzed the current situation that they're stuck in. he noted that if things currently go the way they're going, no matter what akutagawa achieves, him and his sister are doomed. so, oda brilliantly decided to go after the port mafia itself to prepare for this possibility, and it's nothing short of genius. and dazai plays along with this… because it is oda, after all.

and everything dazai did, everything he sacrificed, it was all for oda.

now to the underlying tragedy of this chapter. take a look at this panel:

ever since then, i've been making a living by solving requests that come to the detective agency.

i provide for the orphans

i drink coffee.

i gamble a bit on days off.

at night, i write a novel in the kitchen.

that's my life.

nothing unusual, right? you'd think that odasaku was satisfied with life, since he has everything he had ever wished for. but in all actuality, he still lacks one important thing.

and that's friendship.

his words sounded so… empty. achieving ones dreams is but one aspect of life that brings one gratification, but doesn't necessarily mean it would guarantee lasting happiness. (think of famous actors or celebrities that spiral into depression even after they've achieved their dreams).

in that panel, he says he cares for the orphans, gambles, and writes alone in his spare time, but not a word of spending time with friends… something he had in the root universe, something that was lost to him in this one.

and he says this all with his face blacked out, as if he's somewhat implicitly dissatisfied (while the kid's faces are present, not at all concealed).

with dazai, he found peace in a place where peace is rare to find. They both completely put their guard down with each other around, and dazai can relax his overly speculative mind with oda. and they understood each other, a level of understanding rare to come by. dazai with his dark jokes easily flies past oda's ears because that's what they are, harmless jokes. and oda with his blunt honesty, which dazai cherishes and never prods him for it.

dazai also saw things in oda that oda was blind to. dazai saw a world of beauty in oda, the ray of light beneath a cloudy sky. he saw both intelligence and wisdom, kindness and generosity. and most of all, he trusted oda, despite dazai’s natural inclination to distrust.

and what oda saw in dazai was vulnerability. despite the front that dazai puts, he can be kind, even empathetic, when the situation calls for it. dazai once gave akutagawa a decision to turn his back against dazai’s offer to join the port mafia, when logic points to the fact that he didn't have to, but wanted to.

dazai also consistently gives atsushi words of advice and shows understanding when dazai was under no obligation to, such as atsushi facing the loss of his previous caretaker. dazai gave atsushi genuine advice, not laced with any malice or ill intent. dazai had even left atsushi to grieve alone, fully understanding that atsushi needed to pour his emotions out in private. there’s more than enough instances of dazai showing this side of himself in both the light novels and manga, but it seems to sometimes be brushed aside. even though the main cast of characters always dismissed this side of dazai, oda has always known that this side of dazai was his truest self.

oda and dazai also talked endlessly about trivial things, calling each other daily for two hours for no reason other than that they each enjoy one another's company. it's pure, wholesome love. they had a mutual trust and understanding between one another, which ango, another friend of theirs, severely lacked in his friendship with them.

oda's dream was to write, gone unfulfilled in the root universe, but he died happily knowing that the one he cares for is living in the path of light. dazai's was to find a reason to live, which he found in oda, and continues to use this as motivation long after oda passed.

in beast, dazai's dream was cut short, ultimately leading to his demise at the end. after all, his one reason to live is now robbed from him. however, oda's dreams have become a reality, but can one really say he achieved happiness? he has the orphans, his children, but they will never understand him like dazai had. he has peace, but is it the form of peace he wanted? spending time alone, on things like gambling, while endlessly mulling how he has no one to spend this time with?

and writing, his one true wish that dazai made absolutely sure to make a reality. but was it worth it, at the cost of a friend who brought happiness and reprieve when everyone else failed to?

i thought of this tale as a matter of equivalent exchange, you lose one life in exchange for another. the scales do remain somewhat balanced, but not over a matter of lives. it's over a matter of personal sacrifices, ones only known to us readers.

and i say "somewhat" because in the root universe, dazai remembered oda when he was alive, so well that dazai can recall memories to near perfection. but oda had completely forgotten dazai in beast, chasing after absent memories and deluding himself into thinking his life is perfect, while numbing himself from the aching hole of loneliness that consumes him inside.

also, oda is surely happy spending time with the children, but what about his lonesome hours? who is he going to spend that time with, in a world without dazai, the only person who understood him and his oddities?

ah, and remember this moment in the root universe?

now, take a look at this again. no, look closer

odasaku wasn’t merely gambling for the sake of it, he was gambling on a horse race. and before dazai was arrested in the root universe, he was seen doing just that.

now, why would odasaku do this? he surely doesn’t seem the type to gamble away his money on something as silly as horse races, because what does someone gain while they pour their money into something so senseless?

and the only reason i could arrive to is that dazai must have dragged him along to one. dazai is a port mafia executive, with more money than he knows what to do with and a boatload of depression. money probably disinterests him as much as life does, and he used gambling to kill two birds with one stone: ridding of money he doesn’t need, and distracting him from his boredom (and depression).

and it doesn’t end there. remember when dazai in dead apple had visited bar lupin to pay his regards to odasaku, while reliving a pleasant memory dazai had with him? and he did this because he was preparing for a quest that may result in with the loss of his life, psyching himself up for what’s to come. this is probably bordering on speculation, but i believe that that’s precisely what he did once again in the horse races. dazai paid a visit to a place that oda and him had frequented, to prepare for another dangerous quest.

also, note that immediately after exiting bar lupin in dead apple, dazai was confronted by ango, which kicked off the start of dazai’s plans. a similar thing happens in the manga, dazai spending time in a place that he and oda had gone to, this time the horse races, and his plan whirls into motion as jono arrests him. i think these similarities are deliberate, in order to establish their significance to dazai and oda.

this long winded explanation’s purpose was only for me to go back to this panel once again, and say that everything oda spoke about doing, from spending time with his kids, to brewing coffee, to betting on horse races, and to writing in the kitchen, were all moments he had with dazai.

and see that he has an extra chair that sits unused in the kitchen? at first, i thought it was there for the sake of being there. then, it slowly dawned on me that odasaku and dazai had noted in the dark era light novel that they made a habit of visiting each other, so it wouldn’t be illogical to conclude that it was a chair meant for dazai. a place where he can spend some private moments together with oda underneath the dimly lit kitchen, drinking in the scent of odasaku’s coffee and talking about things that distracts them from their troubles while odasaku whittles away at his manuscript.

and one last thing before i end this out of sheer laziness, take a look at this photograph of oda from the final moments of the beast light novel.

as oda stated in the manga and light novel, he worked on his manuscript alone in the kitchen... but in the photograph, he wasn’t alone. he’s posing for a picture. relaxed, poised, as if entertaining the one taking the photo. and besides, wasn’t it dazai who insisted on taking photographs in bar lupin with ango and oda in dark era? he must have done the same in that very moment in the beast universe, but this time in anticipation of oda forgetting him.

in the end, it seems oda and dazai left each other in similar ways, foolishly believing they've sacrificed their lives for each other to better the other's life, but all they did was create worlds where the feeling of happiness will be lost to both respective parties, while also resigning each other to a life of loneliness.

they've forgotten about their one happiness that stems from just being around one another, listening to the soothing tune of jazz playing softly as they talk into the night, the world lost to them as they're absorbed in one another's presence.

it seems like their story is a tragedy of what happens when you love someone too much, to the point that you delude yourself into thinking you're but a tool for their happiness, and with you gone, nothing will change.

but things did change, didn't they?

#odazai #bsd #bungo stray dogs #oda sakunosuke #osamu dazai #bsd beast #i'm never doing this again

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years

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A Yandere!Dazai/Reader piece for the lovely @ramannnn. It’s been a very Dazai-centric few days, but... I think it fits the theme well, considering how *controlling* I got to make him, here. I can only hope everyone else is having as much fun as he is, honestly.

TW: Dub-Con, Explicit Material, Groping/Rough Sex, Gun Violence, Blood, Death, and Slight Emotional/Physical Abuse.

Word Count: 5.2k

Dazai still wasn’t used to it, he guessed.

Relationships were a foreign concept to him, intimacy as alien as an unknown creature and affection just as strange. Hell, gestures as simple as holding hands made him flinch and pull back, even when he knew it was only you, the girlfriend who could main him about as brutally as a house-cat. It’d taken him two months to get used to cuddling, another three weeks to actually initiate a session, and he still had to think over his actions strategically while going in for a kiss, if only to keep from embarrassing himself. You were patient with him, sickeningly so, smiling and letting it go whenever he failed to reciprocate, always asking before trying something new. You didn’t have to be told that this was his first relationship, his first real relationship, and you didn’t make him say it. It was something Dazai loved about you, why he’d bothered with making himself seem vulnerable in the first place.

The feelings were new, too. You could still make his heart skip a beat by looking at him the right way, the air around you always too thin, his head in a constant state of spinning, regardless of how composed he presented himself as. It was embarrassing, at first, a lovesick spell more fitting of someone Atsushi’s age than his own, but you were great about that, too. Dazai was neglected when it came to love, simultaneously chasing after your approval and refusing to accept it, but you nursed him on small displays and gentle touches until he could stomach entire dates. He wondered if you knew you were doing it, sometimes, if you’d been conscious of the effect you had on him. Stuck on the thought, Dazai let his attention stray from the case-file in front of him, thankful he’d taken it down to Uzumaki before starting.

It would’ve been a pain to walk down from the Agency every time he thought of you, considering how often his paranoia tended to flare up. Kunikida never seemed pleased by the honest reasons behind his absence, either.

He relaxed as soon as he found you, helping a customer at the end of the cafe’s bar. It was only natural that you worked so close to him, managing to infiltrate your way into the fringes of Dazai’s life. He liked being able to find you, too, even if he was rarely in the office most days. Seeing you was like a tranquilizer to him, a narcotic, Dazai getting… twitchy whenever you weren’t around. Still, he couldn’t help but wince when he got a better look at the person you were chatting with, the conversation having gone on too long for you to only be taking his order. The jealousy was fresh every time he felt it, restored and more powerful than any time before, blunt nails soon tearing through the thin folder as he watched you close your eyes and laugh at something the man said.

You shouldn’t be doing that. He didn’t like it when you did that.

Without a hint of hesitation, he pushed himself up, not thinking as he moved towards you. Your attention from the interaction at hand didn’t waver, letting Dazai approach without notice, his arms wrapping around your waist and earning a small yelp, quickly covered up by a breathy giggle. Reflexively, you leaned into him, not looking away from the customer. You two had gone through this too many times for that.

“I’m sorry… he can be clingy sometimes,” You said, the remark equal parts an excuse and a tease. He felt you make a weak attempt to pry him off, an elbow jabbing at his rib cage, but Dazai only buried his head in the crook of your neck, letting his teeth graze over your skin as you sighed, exasperated. “Will that be all, sir? I can get you something on the house for the interruption.”

Dazai perked up just enough to stare at your customer through his bangs, narrowing his eyes just enough to get his point across. Whether or not he noticed, Dazai wasn’t sure, but the man squirmed nervously, gaze dropping to the floor as he fiddled with the lid of his cup, the disposable kind. Good. It meant the bastard wouldn’t be staying very long. “I… I should be going,” He mumbled, half-heartedly throwing a few bills on the countertop. “See you tomorrow, (Y/n).”

He didn’t speak until the man had gotten up, forgetting his drink as he headed towards the door. Even then, Dazai found a tender spot on your neck and bit down before you realized what he was doing, his teeth managing to sink in enough to leave a mark, only separating when you shoved him back. You were scowling when you turned to face him, barely suppressing a grin, trying to look hurt as you rubbed at the forming bruise. “You a real creep, you know that? I’m going to get fired one of these days, and all because you keep harassing my regulars.”

“Wonderful,” Dazai replied, pausing to peck at your lips. It was a hasty kiss, but there would be more later. He’d make sure of that. “You can be my adorable little housewife, and I’ll be the loving husband you brag about ever time you see your old coworkers. That sounds dreamy, doesn’t it?” He sighed loudly, overdramatically, closing his eyes and slumping against your chest. “Why don’t you quit now, sooner than later? We’ll get married this afternoon, I’ll invite Chuuya to the ceremony, and you’ll be a widow by the time the sun rises! It’s better not to draw these things out.”

“Oh, no, you’re not allowed to die after you trick me into marrying you. Chuuya or no Chuuya.” It was tentative, but soon enough, you were carding through his hair, feeding into his neediness. “We’re still on for tonight, right?”

Dazai pursed his lips, thinking before answering. “Tomorrow. The Agency’s trying to drain me dry, this week. Will dinner and a movie be enough to buy your forgiveness?”

You took the news with a sober nod, but he didn’t miss the heat that rose to your cheeks, the red tint you suddenly couldn’t hide. “I want… something else, too,” You admitted, the confession not needing an explanation. Your ‘purity’, for lack of a better way to put it, was something Dazai was well aware of, and it made sense. You were as innocent as they came, doe-eyed and naive, even if you tried to hide it. Just asking to be defiled, really. He couldn’t help himself, his hold on you tightening ever-so-slightly, clueing you in much too soon. “You’re a pervert.” With a huff, you crossed your arms, wedging a barrier between you and the offending aggressor, despite said aggressor’s complaints. “Don’t make me regret it, I’m doing this because I love you. I don’t want it to turn out like--”

“It won’t.” He was quick to reassure you, knowing just the right way to cup your cheek, straightening his back and meeting your eyes in a way that always made you more agreeable. This time was no exception, a shy simper returning as you melted into the support. “And you won’t regret it, either. I promise.”

There was a short silence, his words rolling over in your head. Your answer was a painstakingly slow one, but the bright, beaming smile that accompanied the wait more than worth it.

“I trust you, Dazai.”

Yuri. That was what the man went by. Dazai hadn’t bothered with a surname.

A warehouse worker, night-shift. He’d stop by Uzumaki before every shift for a black coffee, and he’d always ask for you, leaving without making a purchase if he couldn’t get his favorite barista. He didn’t have friends, his family lived overseas, and from what Dazai could tell, he was a coward no one would miss when he finally bit the bullet. If anything, Dazai was doing the leech a favor. He was doing you a favor.

The fewer inconveniences you had, the better.

The less competition he had, the better.

‘Yuri’ was already trembling by the time Dazai’s pistol had been drawn, the barrel forced into his mouth when he tried to scream. It hadn’t done much to muffle the sound, but the sharp click of the weapon’s safety switching off had his breath hitching, any sounds turning into high-pitched squeaks and cries when he realized exactly what kind of situation this was. Dazai wasn’t sure how he hadn’t caught on earlier. Hidden between packed-together buildings, the sky dark and the city fast asleep… not much good can come under those conditions, but luckily, ‘good’ was the last thing Dazai had in mind.

“I don’t want to kill you.” Some of the tensions in Yuri’s shoulders dissolved, a mistake quickly corrected by a tap of the front-sight against the roof of his mouth, Dazai’s finger sliding onto the trigger. “It doesn’t matter to me, whether you live or die. I’d let you go, if I had a choice. It’s less clean-up.”

Yuri tensed up, glancing at Dazai’s hand, at the grip of the Desert Eagle currently half-way down his throat. As if to ask what the catch was.

He obliged swiftly.

“It doesn’t matter to me, but I don’t like people touching things that don’t belong to them,” He explained, not bothering to keep the venom out of his voice. “And you’ve been doing just that, haven’t you? Coming into a place you don’t belong, talking to someone who’s not yours, and acting like you have the right to step onto someone else’s territory. It’s disgusting. I should’ve ended your pathetic life months ago. You’re just lucky I’m so nice.”

In a confident, practiced movement, he brought the Desert Eagle out of Yuri’s mouth, letting the worn metal scrape against his lips, tearing at the thin skin. Before Yuri could move, the muzzle was shoved into his solar plexus, bruising the underside of his ribs. “Talk,” Dazai commanded, shoving his free hand into his coat’s pocket. “Make me believe you won’t fuck-up again.”

Opening his mouth, Yuri stuttered incoherently, swallowing and mumbling and getting on Dazai’s nerves before spitting out something intelligent. “I… I’m sorry! (Y/n) is nice, we’re friends, I didn’t know she had a boyfriend!”

“You’re friends, or you didn’t know she was taken?” Dazai paused, raising an eyebrow. “I’d keep my story straight, if I were you. Considering the stakes and all.”

“I’m sorry!” He was yelling, now, eyes shut and voice shaking. There was an attempt to grab the handgun, but Dazai was able to discharge his attempts at bravery with a sharp thrust and a sigh, the ordeal turning out to be much duller than Dazai thought it would be. “I won’t go near her, I swear! Just… just let me go, and you’ll never see me again. I won’t even think about your girl. You two can have your weird-ass romance, I won’t be a problem!”

Dazai smiled, unable to stop himself. “You’re not a negotiator, are you, Yuri?”

Yuri only shook his head, daring to open his eyes, almost relieved at the slight softness in Dazai’s tone. That might’ve been what did it. He was moving before he realized it, slamming the grip into Yuri cheek with the force of a grown man’s weight, the suddenness and the power behind the blow knocking him to the ground, Yuri hardly even tried to push himself up. He made the mistake of looking back at Dazai, of wasting those precious seconds, but their eyes never met. His silencer muffled the gunshots, muted ticks the only sound to signal the end of Yuri’s life. There wasn’t a scream, no fighting or struggling or pleading, just a labored breath and a splatter of blood on Dazai’s shoes.

Still, that didn’t stop Dazai from emptying the rest of his magazine into Yuri’s head. If only to save such a pitiful creature the pain of having to go on for another hour.

You didn’t think you’d ever been this nervous before.

Calming down was a fruitless effort. You’d tried to tell yourself that you were an adult, that Dazai loved you and didn’t care, but… just the thought had you buzzing. It was a palpable anxiety, something that had you walking unevenly and dropping mugs while you cleaned them and laughing when anyone said anything because everything was funny. Your coworkers took notice, but they were dissuaded with an excuse and a few comments about an ‘off-mood’, and luckily, your regulars hadn’t been around enough lately to witness your odd behavior.

They hadn’t been around at all lately, really. You made a mental note of that. You’d have to check in on them, soon, if you remembered to. It was hard not to worry, considering how many frequent visitors had disappeared so abruptly, recently.

Still, Dazai was a source of comfort. You were a timid person, closed-off despite how badly you tried not to be, but you really did love Dazai. He was persistent, consistent, and just as unused to affection as you were, albeit on the opposite side of the spectrum. That might’ve been why you trusted him so much. He was like you, in a way, but so different at the same time. Just as closed-off, but with all the confidence you lacked.

Without thinking, you let your mouth fall open, mumbling the first thing that came to mind. “Thank you.”

Dazai hummed as he glanced over his shoulder, sending you a questioning look as he unlocked the entrance to his flat. It took him a second to understand, but you didn’t have the nerve to explain yourself, letting Dazai come to his own conclusion. It must’ve been a good one, though, judging by the way he pulled you a little closer as the door fell open, kissing your temple and tugging you through the threshold. “Don’t thank me yet,” He chuckled, softly. “We’re just getting to the fun part.”

You didn’t have time to ask what he meant. As soon as you’d stepped into his apartment, his mouth was on yours, the kiss as overeager as it was underplanned. No attempt was made to ease you into it, no trace of reluctance or consideration, only his arms wrapping around your midriff and your back hitting the wall, crashing into it as he found the first available surface to pin you to. Keeping up with him was a futile effort, but you tried anyway, pushing your lips against his and nipping at the tip of his tongue playfully when he tried to deepen the gesture. You could feel it as he smirked, pulling away and focusing his kisses on your jaw, hands falling to your thighs and lifting you off the ground without a trace of effort. It was easy to forget how strong he was, but as Dazai slotted himself against you, far closer than you’d ever let anyone else get, it slipped your mind to tease him about it, too.

Instead, you let out a cracked laugh, one that turned into a small whimper as his teeth brushed against your jugular. “It… this feels kinda sudden, doesn’t it?”

“Not at all,” He said, before choosing a spot and biting. This wasn’t your first hickey, this wasn’t the first hickey he’d given you, but this was the first time Dazai’d been so violent about it, sucking viciously until a purple, bruised mark covered the area. Hot, open-mouthed kisses traveled downward, each a little more primal than the last, only pausing when he hit the unwelcoming fabric of your shirt, the annoyance eliciting something near a growl. He dropped you in a heartbeat, leaving you to wrap your legs around his waist and cling to him as he all-but tore at the offending clothing, not seeming to care what he ripped. “You wanted this, too. It’s a natural progression.”

A natural progression. That’s what it was, a natural progression.

This was the next step.

So, you didn’t complain as your shirt fell away, his coat dropping to the floor not long after. Your whimpers and yelps turned to low, muffled moans as he went on, the pain fading into a light sting. You pulled at his collar, too, beginning to undo the first button with one hand while the other remained uselessly draped over his shoulders, but if Dazai noticed your work, he didn’t see it necessary to show it. He occupied himself with pushing up your skirt, letting it pool around your hips as he groped at whatever he could reach, only growing more aggressive as you writhed against him. It was only as he slipped a finger under the edge of your panties that you spoke up.

“Bed.” Your voice cracked, the whisper coming out helplessly. “Please, Dazai.”

Again, he didn’t waste time. You were pulled wall from the wall one moment and thrown onto a plush surface the next, the terrain suddenly strange, unfamiliar. You couldn’t help but freeze-up, but Dazai wasn’t hit by the same affliction, kneeling between your legs and continuing where he’d left off. Your panties were discarded in a matter of seconds, leaving you partially dressed and unprepared when thin fingers started to run over the length of your slit, his thumb hardly making contact with your clit, testing the waters. He slid two digits in as soon as he decided your wet enough, pausing for a moment.

“You’ve touched yourself, haven’t you?” The question is punctuated by a curl, his fingertips rubbing against slick walls. The stretch made you want to whine, but you bit your lip instead, nodding as he scissored you open. You balled your fists around the sheets, closing your eyes as Dazai moved lower. “Naughty girl. You won’t be allowed to do that, anymore.”

Before you could wonder what he was doing, his mouth latched onto your clit, sucking just harshly enough to have you grinding against his face. Your thighs went stiff, then twitched, attempting to clench around Dazai’s head, but he held them open easily, his other arm too busy finger-fucking you to do much else. You almost got used to it, almost, but the moment Dazai’s fingers hit something spongy and soft, your composure was done-for. Pressure pressed down on your chest, the air choking you, but Dazai never let-up, never relaxing, not until you were clenching and squealing, slicking building up and flowing over his fingers, Dazai only slowing down to pull out.

You thought he would kiss you, or smile, or say something.

Instead, he began to undress.

You watch in anticipation as a layer fell to the floor, then another, a sensation between excitement and dread forming a tight ball in your throat. This wasn’t how you pictured it happening. This wasn’t how you wanted it to happen. It was supposed to be more… romantic, less passionate and more loving. You thought it’d feel more loving. This wasn’t how you pictured it, but you couldn’t make yourself say something.

So, you laid back and shut your eyes again. You hoped he would notice.

The kiss came too late, but you accepted it nonetheless, running your hands through his hair as his lips brushed against yours. It was conciliatory, if anything, simultaneously more apologetic than it should've been but less than it needed to be, for whatever reason. “Don’t worry,” He reassured, lining himself up with your entrance. “I’ll be gentle.”

But he wasn’t. As soon as he was inside you, all pretenses of self-control abandoned him, Dazai bucking into your wildly and forcefully. The ache was worse, eliciting something near a sob, but it was all you could do to hold onto him and let it happen. His hips rolled against yours without any regard for the way his cock couldn’t fit inside of you, determined to go deeper, faster, harder with every movement. You found yourself burying your face in his chest unconsciously, grabbing anything you could reach, just trying to find a center before Dazai ripped you away from it, again. Distantly, you could hear the bed creaking, wet sounds echoing off the walls, but his voice was close enough to overtake it all.

“Mine, mine,” He repeated, the single word turning into a mantra. The head of his cock pushes against your cervix, Dazai intent on fitting you to his shape or tearing you open in the process. “None of them can have you. You don’t belong to anyone else.”

You tried to speak, but the sound was cracked, hollow. “I don’t--”

“None of them can have you.” He pushed himself away from you, fucking into your with twice the strength and half the consideration. Still, a coil forms in the pit of your stomach, something tense and hazy taking root in your mind and refusing to leave. Something you didn’t know if you liked. “Say it. You belong to me.”

You obeyed. You weren’t sure what would happen if you didn’t. “I-I only… I only belong to you!”

Your orgasm was less earned and more torn from you, crashing down with the same delicacy of the man who’d caused it. It was suffocating, euphoric, the world going white as you forgot how to inhale, Dazai’s mouth slotting itself against yours. So enraptured in holding you, he hardly remembered to pull out, your cunt clamping down on him like a vice. Still, you felt it as cum splattered across your thighs, warm and sticky, as repulsive as it was disgustingly comforting.

Neither of you said anything, heavy pants and enduring whines monopolizing the conversation. But, after a long minute, Dazai’s attention re-focused, his eyes meeting yours and a small grin spreading across his features. His hand came up to cup your cheek and willingly, you melted into it, relaxing as he wiped the stray tears from your skin.

You only smiled back, wondering when you’d started crying.

“I’m just worried about you.”

You could’ve groaned at the familiar sentiment, hardly gathering the energy to glance up from the order you were punching into the register. Lucy was a new recruit, still green around the edges and not quite a skilled communicator, but you could appreciate her for what she was… most days. It was just the two of you on staff, at the moment, only a handful of customers in the cafe at such an ungodly time in the morning, leaving her with plenty of time to voice her oh-so-persistent concerns. It was sweet, honestly, a newer girl becoming so protective of her coworkers so quickly, and you couldn’t help but feel the same way, even if the age gap between you two was barely two years long. She wanted the best for you, and you for her.

So, you let her go on.

“Osamu’s not a nice guy.” Her voice was impassioned, just as genuine as the muffled curses she let out as a few drops of steamed milk spilled over the side of the cappuccino she was working on. “You should hear the stories Atsushi tells about him, they’re not… they’re not good. It’s hard to listen, sometimes. Especially when it’s so easy to tell he’s got the poor boy wrapped around his finger.”

“I’d hate to say it, but ‘they’re not good’ isn’t exactly compelling evidence,” You reasoned, biting the inside of your cheek. Your legs were still sore, your back aching, but you ignored the pain. That was normal, wasn’t it? For the first time, at least. “He’s a hard man to warm up to. It took me a while, too, but he’s really not as bad as he seems. Playful, but nice. With me, at least.”

Lucy sighed, shaking her head. “It’s the way he looks at you. I don’t like it,” She explained, a little too bluntly for the comment not to irk you. “Sometimes he’ll just sit and stare at you, and it’s impossible to tell what he’s thinking. He’s always asking the other girls which regulars you’re talking to, or for a copy of your schedule, and he gets so rude when we refuse. It’s not playful, it’s obsessive. Like he doesn’t trust you.”

You hoped she didn’t notice the way you frowned at her last comment. “He… he asks about my regulars?”

“Oh, all the time.” The words were too tired to be rehearsed. Not angry, annoyed. Like she was used to it. “A few of us slip up, occasionally, but nobody ever tells him anything. That doesn’t stop him from tryin’, though, nearly every time you’re not working. He tries to say it’s for the Agency, like half our customers aren’t detectives.”

Now, that got you to pause, your fingers slipping as you tried to focus on the task at hand. “I’m sorry you have to deal with that. Please let me know if he does it again.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” She mumbled, stopping to wave her free hand in some abstract, dismissive gesture. “Trust me. Or talk to him, do something. I just don’t want to see you cry over someone like him.”

It was hard not to smile, to thank her, even if you weren’t sure how you felt just yet. It would’ve been a lie to say you’d never had your doubts, but hearing someone else voice them was an entirely new experience, one you couldn’t say you were used to. You wanted to say that, you wanted to tell Lucy how much you appreciated her, you wanted to ask if there were supposed to be bruises on your hips, but as soon as the words made it to your tongue, they were swallowed back down, your mouth refusing to let them escape. It felt wrong, but staying quiet felt terrible.

You did the best you could, considering.

“You don’t have to answer, but…” You trailed off, unsure of how to phrase it. “Do the people you love ever start to scare you?”

For a second, she didn’t respond. She pursed her lips, something between surprise and concern coming across her expression, both emotions disappearing in an instant. A reply came eventually, tender and reassuring, but you had your answer the moment she failed to meet your eyes.

You needed to talk to Dazai.

Dumbfounded didn’t seem like the right word.

Shock would’ve been better, maybe. Dazai didn’t know how to react, flinching and laughing half-heartedly, the two acts mixing into something painful to see. He only grew more sure of your discomfort as you looked away, keeping your eyes on his walls or his rug or anything but the man who owned them, despite failing to pull away as he moved a little closer, closing the space between you. It wasn’t hard, the furniture in Dazai’s apartment as sparse as it was scattered, the loveseat no exclusion to his rule. He still hadn’t adjusted to having guests, even with all the time you’d spent together.

“Could… could you run that by me again?” He asked, the question more a whisper than a demand. “I don’t think I understand.”

“I just think it would be a good idea if we… took a break.” You were nothing short of meek, defenseless, curling into yourself as you spoke. “You haven’t been acting like yourself, lately, and everyone seems so worried about me. I don’t really think--”

“It’s those girls, isn’t it?” Dazai didn’t try to ease you into it, he couldn’t ease you into it, he was too angry to ease himself into it. That what it was, anger. Dark, ugly anger, potent enough to make him pull you closer, a hand on your knee and the other around your hips, refusing to budge when you nudged at his arm. “I knew they were against me, against us. You can’t trust anything they say, especially if it’s about me. They don’t want you to be happy--”

You cut him off abruptly, catching Dazai off-guard. Even if your actions didn’t reflect your violent tone. “They don’t want me to be with someone who can’t stand making me happy,” You retorted, digging your nails into his arm, this attempt to distance him more sincere than the last. “You don’t have to pretend you care about me, anymore, I get it. I’m some… thing, to you, that’s why you’re always checking in on me, why you’re always acting like I can’t handle myself. It’s fine, or, it was fine, I mean.” You sighed, shaking your head. Confliction wasn’t a good look for you, Dazai realized. He didn’t like that look on you. “I don’t want to do this anymore. You got my virginity, you win. I just want to go home, Dazai.”

He was silent, for a moment, as motionless as he was stiff. “You can’t do that.”

“I don’t care.” This time, you tried to get up, to pull yourself away from him, only gritting your teeth when he dragged you back down. “Let me go. I’ll call the police, if I have to.”

“And I’ll break your fingers before you can find a phone.”

You snapped around, but you didn’t have time to respond, not before you were thrown against the couch-cushions, Dazai straddling you reflexively, acting on instinct. He didn’t want to lose you, he couldn’t lose you, not after how far you’d come, how beautifully you’d opened up for him. You fought back, weak and misguided, but Dazai only had to shift his weight onto your diaphragm to stifle your rebellion, the hands soon wrapped around your neck more of a flourish than a safety-measure. You tried to grab at his wrists, but the resistance wasn’t forceful.

Still, Dazai tightened his hold, pressing up into the bottom of your chin. If only to hear that whimper he doubted you show him willingly, anytime soon.

“I thought this might happen. Chuuya used to call me crazy for planning ahead, but this always happens.” His laugh was genuine, this time, light and airy and genuine. Dazai could feel you go still under him, your stare burning holes through his skin, but he didn’t care. What you were feeling was secondary, as long as you were directing those feelings towards him. “People get inside your head, and they turn you against me. It doesn’t matter how many parasites I get rid of, there’s always a dozen there to take their place. You know how annoying that is, don’t you?”

This time, you were the speechless one, swallowing thickly before answering. “You’re insane--”

“There’s only one thing left to do, when keeping the bugs away doesn’t seem to help.” The smile that spread across his lips must’ve been wicked, because you began to struggle once again, kicking and thrashing and fighting, but Dazai was far from caring. He bent down slowly, letting you bite at his lips, not caring when blood was drawn. The metallic taste spread across your lips as he kissed you, only making him all the more keen to remind you why you belong to him, in the first place.

“I’ll just have to keep you away from all those bad influences, won’t I?”

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poisonousushi · 4 years

Note

ooo for the character ask you rbed awhile ago, could i ask for sigma or yosano? thank u :)

hiiii! thanks for the ask. your choice of characters is really nice! i'll try my best to lay out my opinions here, but i don't think i'll be able to give you some for yosana bcs i am not that confident with my opinions on her ;;; anyways, i'll go with sigma first~

• Why I like them

Sigma is simply not unlikable. It’s just the vibes he gives when he is in his own habitat (e.g. the casinio), he really was so confident there and I just… I’m weak for that kind of vibe. And also, his duality, like despite looking confident, he’s an anxious and desperate little thing. But most importantly, his sense of morality. I don’t know, he crosses the boundaries of the popular argument of nurture vs nature. Even when he was dumped into the world without any family or ties or purpose, it looks like he intuitively knows that his purpose is not bound for killing (remember: he didn’t ever want to stab Taneda-sensei. He was only driven by DoA’s mission.) There might be underlying reasons why, and honestly, I’m still looming over it through headcanons and theories (but for now I am focusing on Nikolai and Fyodor, so Sigma baby have to wait). Sigma just wants something that would define him, or make him feel like he belong. Hence, why he was so desperate to protect the casino because his identity is tied to it. If he loses it, what would he be? Of course, Fyodor nails it on the part that he knows what Sigma wanted – a home and a purpose. Also, he’s really kind to his customers to a point that he gives them a second chance in every game by sabotaging the game himself, lol. (And memorizing his clients’ numbers and needs.) That’s some high level of service right there. So yeah, he’s just overall precious.

• Why I don’t

Who doesn’t like Sigma, let’s talk. Okay, honestly, I don’t think he is ever culpable for not being able to get out of Decay of Angels. The strong reason would be because it’s the only place that provided him home, security, safety, and identity. He’s deeply tied to the organization because of that. And yes, because he experiences what it feels like to be a stray, and to stay in prisons, and he doesn’t ever want to go back there. So yes, I don’t have any reasons why I don’t like him. For me, there’s simply not any.

• Favorite episode (scene if movie)

Since we still don’t have Season 4 yet, so I’m going substitute manga panel/s for it. Though idk why I can't insert photos when answering this ask. Is there a new Tumblr update for the features? I think there was, but anyways, I'll just going to verbalize it. Most of my favorite manga panels of him are those where he's the most vulnerable, like that time he gave up in front of Atsushi and that one where he slipped off Atsushi's grip. It makes me want to hug him ;;;

• Favorite season/movie

I’ll just substitute this is favorite arc in the manga. Of course, the current Decay of Angels arc where he appears the most.

• Favorite Line

Sigma has said some lines that really resonates so much, but I will just cite one that sticks out to me.

“Hey, somebody tell me, can’t an ordinary man be forgiven for wanting to protect what’s important to him?”

• Favorite outfit

The one he’s wearing, of course! Sigma’s character design is really interesting. The fact that he’s wearing heels and earrings is so groundbreaking. And also, Harukawa-san snapped when they made him have a galactic design in the interior of his coat. And his turtleneck! I really love the fact that he wears a turtleneck underneath, because strip him off other layers and leave him in that turtleneck and slacks, imagine the power he would have. I think it won’t be a stretch to say that Sigma is one of the characters in BSD with Best Character Design.

• OTP

I know GogSig is a known rarepair with Sigma involved, and yes, I have written it at some point – mind you, it’s the fic with my highest word count – but I’m not totally knee-deep in the ship. But I have encountered a rarepair fic before of Chuuya x Sigma, and when it flashed in my mind the potentials of that ship, I do think it’s nice! Kinda has the same vibes with ChuuAtsu, hence why I’m here for it.

• Brotp

I wanted to put Sigma x Atsu in OTP, but I realize I see them more as siblings/best of friends. I don’t know if that counts as Brotp.

• Headcanon

Not much, but I hc Sigma as asexual and nonbinary. And also, I don’t think he’s scared of insects.

• Unpopular opinion

People sometimes call him Fyodor's OC but I don't really think that's the case. Maybe, my point here is un-improved and I must have totally missed other information in the manga (so correct me if I did) but I do think that Sigma isn’t made by Fyodor. He woke up in a dessert, right? Three years ago (as of documented so there's a possibility of something before three years ago.) But the Decay of Angels only obtained a page in consequent to the happenings of Sunday Tragedy, and the events all rolled over quickly from the moment ADA was framed. (And the casino was made 8 days prior to Skyfall.) Besides, Fyodor fetched him up from a prison which might indicate that Fyodor must have only heard of him, and that there might be someone else who made him. But is it actually canon that Fyodor admitted to making him or I totally have forgotten that part? My memory is so wack sometimes, I’m sorry. And also if people only dubbed him as Fyodor's OC as a joke, forgive me for not understanding ;;;

• A wish

I wish Sigma will be with ADA at the end. He just suits to be there, and since BSD has this way to perpetuating patterns like Oda adopted orphans and influenced Dazai by taking in and helping Atsushi, so it is my own wish that such would also influence Atsushi to take in Sigma. Though he already basically had done it by initiating to recruit Kyouka into ADA, but can Sigma be the other one? Please.

• An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen

That Sigma would die when he would touch Fyodor to extract information from him. I think it’s pretty much hinted that Fyodor can control his deadly ability but, like, if he knows that Sigma is getting used by Nikolai just to know about his ability, it’s scary for me to think that he would kill Sigma upon the moment of contact. Well, it’s only a theory, so I desperately hope there are other ways to know about Fyodor’s ability without having to possibly kill Sigma in the process. He deserves a character arc with a happy ending!

• 5 words to best describe them

Precious, soft, desperate, must protect

• My nickname for them

I like calling him “Sigma baby~” in a way to indicate that he’s a baby.

As for Yosano, like what I said, I am not so confident with my opinions of her ;;; except that I DO LIKE HER and I ship her with Kouyou.

Anyways, that's all~ ah, i hope my answer isn't too bland or too explosive either. ;;; i hope it reached your standards ;;; but really, thank youuu! it was fun to talk about sigma. i always have time to talk about sigma huhuhuhu

#jai asks #bungou stray dogs #bsd sigma #bsd yosano akiko #spacestuffing

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scriveyner · 4 years

Text

kinktober (2020): #5

Prompt #5: Corruption

Explicit, SSKK/AkuAtsu, ~1200 words

"You're so pale," Atsushi said, lifted his hand to touch Akutagawa's face, and Akutagawa jerked back toward the encompassing shadows, Rashomon shimmering at the edges of his coat. Maybe it was the moonlight, they were all washed out by its sweet light; a week past full but still bright enough to light their path around the park. Atsushi was left with his hand outstretched for the moment, before he pulled it back, fingers curling back into a fist and stung despite knowing this was how Akutagawa was…he didn't like being touched.

Read on AO3 or

He'd turned back up last week, but Atsushi had been knee-deep in an assignment from Kunikida and hadn't been able to make the time because, unlike certain members of the Agency, he didn't duck assignments just to frolic with his…boyfriend? Was that what Akutagawa was to him now?

Another thought for another time.

Akutagawa slid slightly away on the path, Rashomon rippling around his shoulders actively now. "Did I say something wrong?" Atsushi asked him. "I mean, you're always pale, but you just look…"

"Sick?" Akutagawa asked, covering his mouth with the curve of his hand, a practiced, familiar motion—although there was no accompanying cough, this time.

Well, he hadn't wanted to say that, but yes. "You're the one who called me out here," Atsushi said pointedly, and Akutagawa finally looked back at him. Something had seemed off this entire time, but now Akutagawa's gaze pinned him in place and he felt slightly dizzy, seen in a way that left him feeling unexpectedly vulnerable. "I missed you," Atsushi said softly, and Akutagawa's eyes darted away, mouth still hidden by his hand. "Didn't you miss me?"

"I called you out here," Akutagawa said shortly, "to tell you that we can no longer be together, weretiger."

Atsushi inhaled sharply, because while he didn't know what he was expecting that was definitely not it. The surprise burned out fast, leaving the anger simmering warm in his gut. "Why the fuck not?" he demanded, and Akutagawa seemed startled at his reaction, eyes widening. "Is it Mori? Or someone else in the mafia?"

It took a moment, and Akutagawa's eyes narrowed. "My decisions are my own," he spat, reflecting Atsushi's anger. "It is not safe for you, I do not expect you to understand my reasons." He looked away again, clearly felt like he had said too much.

"…not safe?" Atsushi was incredulous. "You've cut off three of my limbs, you asshole, what the fuck else do you think you're gonna do to me?" He threw out his arms, lifted his chin. "I'm not fucking afraid of you!"

Akutagawa spun on his heel, and moved fast. They'd had practice with this, sparring session learning speed and maneuvers and Atsushi was more than confident in his ability to match Akutagawa pace for pace but this time…he moved different. It was so fast it seemed like he teleported and was in front of Atsushi so fast he didn't have time to adjust or prepare. His coat was flowing out around him like living shadow, not Rashomon but something else entirely—and his eyes, they were different, not quite dark but glowing. "You should be afraid of me," Akutagawa said, and Atsushi's eyes had gone gold to match, the tiger in his veins yearning to break free—but before he could lift his arms to defend himself Akutagawa caught his jaw, the other hand clamping onto his shoulder. He twisted Atsushi's head and held him there, stronger than Atsushi realized.

"I'll just have to teach you," Akutagawa said roughly, "to fear me."

He bit Atsushi.

Atsushi's entire body jolted as Akutagawa's teeth—needle-sharp, inhuman—tore into the skin of his throat. He couldn't get away, Akutagawa's grip was too firm, too strong; and with a heady rush of warmth Atsushi realized suddenly that he didn't want to get away anyway. It felt good here, Akutagawa's mouth like a furnace on his skin, the brief pain of the bite already replaced, a faded memory, and his eyes went half-lidded, staring at nothing at all, held up only by Akutagawa's mysterious strength.

Finally, they sank to the ground together, Atsushi's legs buckling and no longer able to hold his own weight. Akutagawa had yet to lift his head, mouth fastened securely and Atsushi's thoughts had completely emptied from his head; it was blissful nothingness, drifting, light-headed and carried away by the sensation. When Akutagawa finally released him, Atsushi stared blankly at him, eyes unfocused; Akutagawa returned his gaze, Atsushi's blood streaked down his chin.

"You taste…good," Akutagawa said, sounding stunned. Atsushi panted, mouth open, scattered thoughts slowly starting to resume some semblance of order. His entire body ached, he was light-headed, dizzy…and harder than he'd ever been in his life. Akutagawa was still holding his chin, but released him, which allowed Atsushi to collapse forward, held up only by his wobbling arms.

"You're a fucking vampire," Atsushi gasped, facing the ground, Akutagawa's shadow between him and the moon. He collapsed further forward, onto his elbow, so that he could shove his hand down his pants and lay it on his aching cock. "Fuck, you're a goddamn, fucking vampire—"

"Do you understand now?" Akutagawa's voice had changed, it was almost melodic. "I can't help myself around you, you're not safe—"

Atsushi lunged forward, pants loose on his hips. Whatever Akutagawa was expecting it was not a full frontal assault, and he toppled over backwards with a startled grunt. Atsushi straddled him, slammed his palms down on either side of Akutagawa's head, and stared down at him wildly. "Goddamn," Atsushi wheezed, dizzy as all hell, adrenaline pounding in his veins. "Fucking," he yanked at Akutagawa's pants, go them open, found what he needed, "vampire."

Akutagawa yelped, perhaps an improper sound for a vampire to make, as Atsushi seated himself on Akutagawa's hidden erection. Atsushi threw his head back as he worked himself down Akutagawa's cock, blood streaked bright red down his neck and staining the collar of his shirt. It was too tight, too much, but Atsushi didn't let up until he had all of Akutagawa inside him, panting skyward. Akutagawa's hands had found their way to Atsushi's thighs, gripped tight, chest heaving.

"What the fuck," Akutagawa's voice was hoarse, rattling in his throat, but he made no effort to dislodge Atsushi, "are you doing!?"

"I'm not safe around you," Atsushi repeated his own words, insides achingly tight, squeezing Akutagawa so much it tore the breath from his lungs. "I, fuck—"

Akutagawa rubbed his hand over the bulge in the front of Atsushi's pants, watched him closely. "Yeah," Atsushi hissed, mind half gone again already, rocking on Akutagawa's lap. "Like that, fuck, like that—"

His hips jerked, he rose off Akutagawa's dick slightly and tilted forward perilously, slamming his palms into the ground again, hanging over Akutagawa and panting. Akutagawa's eyes were a deep red now, unnatural in his face; Atsushi's blood still vivid on his lips. They stared at each other, transfixed—gold eyes on crimson—and Atsushi laughed, wild and crazy.

"I'm not afraid of you," Atsushi said, swallowed, panting still with exertion. "If you want my blood you can have it, if you want to turn me, turn me." He rocked again on Akutagawa's dick, agonizingly slow. "Haven't you figured out by now that I'm fucking yours?"

Akutagawa's mouth fell open, his fangs extending, visible now in a threat display or something else but it didn't faze Atsushi. He leaned over, grabbed Akutagawa by the cravat, and yanked him up into a kiss. "No matter what."

#bungou stray dogs #akuatsu #shin soukoku #sskk #kinktober #lemony fresh #not part of nightbreed au that's a different thing entirely #goddammit i just saw a typo

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soukoku-rivals · 5 years

Text

I’m back - time for another long rant.

Hello there!

I’m back from my holiday and as promised I’m going to reply to all your comments today! Not that it’s as exciting as I’m trying to make it sound but, well, I love your comments and I hate to just leave you with nothing.

First of all:

Yes, yes I am. That’s why the first villain was Sapkowski. Can’t stand the Witcher series [just a personal preference, I understand why many people love it, I just hate all of the characters and the constant gloominess. I need more variation and it’s hard to care what happens to the characters who you’d rather see dead].

Innymi słowy, tak, jestem Polką.

Secondly, amazing @dsknsk is already translating chapter 5 to Dutch and you can find it HERE!

And now replies.

Can’t remember which page it was, sorry:

Oh, I dare. There’s more where that came from.

I just hated on Sapkowski for all his gloominess, but here I am with part 2, where 90% of it is angst. Hypocrisy much? Definitely!

Page 42:

Forgive me for replying collectively but there’s a limit to the number of pictures you can put in a post.

Does Fyodor sound threatening? Yup. Can he get abusive? Yes. Will he, though? I was going to leave it unanswered for spoiler reasons but I realise that it could be triggering for some people if I jump with it out of nowhere so, spoiler, yes. He will. I’ll try to keep it to minimum, though. It’s mostly psychological abuse. Which is just as bad as physical abuse. And really, it’s bad.

As much as I like Fyoya, their relationship here is unhealthy, definitely at least dub-con and I cannot support that in any way. Believe me, I want Chuuya to get away from Fyodor in this story as much as any of you.

As for Dazai worrying for Chuuya - I wanted more of that. Way more. But this is Dazai, he wouldn’t let himself be so vulnerable in front of people. In the first draft I actually had him lose his composure earlier but it was so much OOC that in the end I had to change it. I hope it fits him better.

I’m glad you’re up to date and I hope you did well on your finals. Fingers crossed!

I’m also happy you enjoy the way this story is going. I always worry I make it too complicated or that I dramatize too much but knowing that people like it anyway makes me more confident.

As for Dostoevsky, dear gods I love that characters but he’s definitely too much of a creep here.

Page 43:

Crying is actually very good for you and I’ll defend it especially in fiction. Though, I understand the feeling. You don’t want to see people you care about crying.

But, really, it’s good for Dazai. He let everything out and now he can think of a plan. And the situation is much more complicated than what was already explained. Fortunately, Dazai is the sharpest knife in the drawer and he knows that.

Also, the squad is huge! I just started working on the ‘resque’ part of the chapters and I have to minimize everything. We’re only going to see a tiny part of the operation.

And Dazai got that hug, Atsushi is the best boy, precious, protective baby.

Page 44:

Atsushi is the best, yes, we all agree.

To be honest, he’s the type of character that me from 5 years ago would absolutely hate. So many bad things happened to him, yet he’s still one of the gentlest souls in the canon. I would get bored immediately.

The me-now realises how precious these characters are and how little of them are actually well constructed and not killed off for the sole purpose of shock value. We must protect that kid!

I actually never shipped Dazai/Atsushi.

At first, before we got more Chuuya, I didn’t ship Dazai with anyone [not even Kunikida or Odasaku] and as for Atsushi it was Akutagawa from the start.

Later it was Kyouka but I hear some people view this as pedophilia. Okay, I get where that comes from, but for me they’re both still kids, and their relationship would be purely romantic. They both have many issues they need to overcome and I think they would be able to support each other nicely. Now, however, I’m very much inclined towards Atsushi/Lucy. And that says something since I can’t stand real Montgomery’s books and usually that impacts how much I like the character [looking at Poe here, my biggest love after Chuuya and Dazai, can’t find a logical way to put him in the story though].

Anyway, if anyone ships Dazai/Atsushi, feel free to do so! There’s plenty of accidental Dazatsu here! have fun! As far as I’m concerned you can ship anyone. [I’m wondering if anyone ships my OCs with anybody xd]

Chapter 5, cover and page 1:

Yes, we need something light and heartwarming. We need balance or at least some contrast.

The thing is I watch all these angsty AMVs on youtube [I practically have Take Me To Church, Wires and Glass Heart in every. single. randomly generated. youtube playlist. Sometimes I get Circus to mess things up]. And I watch them, and I sit there, tears in my eyes, thinking ‘I just want my babies to be happy! Why can’t they be happy?’. And then I sit to work on this story and they’re still not happy and this time it’s my fault. I’m a cruel person.

Heh, heh, that’s not a nice flashback for the most part. That’s not a nice chapter. I would get myself a band aid and some painkillers [wine’s very good]. Just warning you.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #Nakahara Chuuya #Dazai Osamu #soukoku #soukoku rivals #update

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aiupenn · 5 years

Text

Friends or Less

Akutagawa’s been pushing Atsushi away, making him mad on purpose to keep his own feelings at bay. Unfortunately, Atsushi’s notices.

[a/n: it’s finally @shinsoukoku-week!! I’m so excited. T.T a million thanks much for the mods of the week. i needed it like i need air. anyways, prompt i used today was ‘tickle a dragon’s tail’. I wasn’t as on top of this week as I was with rarepair week, so I hope you’ll forgive me that the fics for this week are gonna be a bit of a mess. I’m going to rewrite them all and put them on ao3 at some point, but for now, take a bit of word puke.]

Akutagawa had overstepped the boundaries this time. He could feel it. Anger came off Atsushi in waves, enough so that he could see his partner physically trembling.

Akutagawa coughed into his palm, partially hiding the emotion in his throat. His stomach was a twisted knot of fear, guilt, and satisfaction.

“What did you say?” Atsushi growled. It was a literal growl, a voice more like the tiger’s than Atsushi’s own.

Akutagawa blinked slowly, lowering his hand. A part of him wanted to turn his back on Atsushi completely, but that wasn’t safe right now. “You heard me,” Akutagawa said, “The Agency would be better off without you.”

And then—to Akutagawa’s surprise—Atsushi deflates. All the anger visibly leaves him as his hands go limp and his head falls to stare at the pavement. All the satisfaction Akutagawa had felt evaporated.

“Is that what you think, Ryuunosuke?” Atsushi’s voice is so raw and vulnerable, that Akutagawa’s lips part, lost for words. This hadn’t been the reaction he wanted. This wasn’t what he was looking for. Atsushi was stronger than this.

Wasn’t he?

Atsushi looks to the side. Akutagawa still sees the pained look in his eyes and the way his lower lip is caught between his teeth as he holds back tears. Atsushi holds the upper part of his arms tightly, almost hugging himself. “Can I tell you something?” Atsushi doesn’t pause long enough for Akutagawa to answer. “I think you’re right.”

Akutagawa freezes. Even he doesn’t think he’s right, what the Hell is Atsushi saying? He’d been trying to push Atsushi away, but not this far.

Atsushi laughs a little hollowly, the sound of spit clogging in the back of his throat clear. Akutagawa watches almost in a trance as the tears spill down Atsushi’s face. Then, he turns away. “See you later, Ryuunosuke.”

For some reason, Akutagawa can’t get his feet to move in time to stop Atsushi. When he finally does get his body to listen, Atsushi’s been long gone. He’s not even on this block any more. Akutagawa stares off into the distance for a long time, willing Atsushi to reappear.

After a moment, he curses. He’s not sure if he cursing himself, Atsushi, or the world in general. He pulls out his phone and hits the number of the man he had wished he’d never have to speak to again.

Atsushi looks a mess when he opens the door. Akutagawa stares at him with the usual lifeless gaze, but it’s hard to keep his emotions invisible right now. There’s an unsteady rhythm to his heart right now.

Atsushi sniffs and while he’d been in the middle of trying to wipe the tears out of his eyes, as soon as he sees Akutagawa, he stops caring. He grimaces. “Did you follow me?”

Akutagawa wonders which would be the worse answer. ‘I was so worried about you that I called Dazai’ or ‘I was so worried about you I stalked you’. Neither sounded good.

Atsushi seems to take his non-answer as one. “I suppose it’s best if you tell me what else you think of me now, rather than later.” Atsushi’s hand slips from the doorknob and he braces himself for some kind of impact.

Akutagawa doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know how to make this better. He isn’t sure if he should make it better. It would’ve been better to ask Dazai to send Kyouka or someone who could actually talk through these things. What exactly was Akutagawa doing here? Had he not given this a second’s thought?

Akutagawa realized he was panicking, and Atsushi was looking at him strangely. At least that meant that Atsushi had stopped crying.

“The Agency needs you,” Akutagawa blurts out.

Atsushi blinks. “Like, right now, or...?”

Akutagawa sucks in a breath, not sure if he’s brave enough to continue. “No.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then Atsushi starts to cry again. His face screws up when he cries, his eyebrows knitting together and teeth clenching. Akutagawa hates to see it, he realizes. He doesn’t like seeing Atsushi cry. Just more proof to add to the line-up that he is deeper in love than he’s willing to admit.

“You should go,” Atsushi says with staccato breaths.

He should. He really, really should. He needs to turn around and leave Atsushi alone, and then continue trying to push him away. Continue forcing his feelings down. Continue pissing Atsushi off. Pretend he’d never made him cry.

“I’m sorry,” Akutagawa said.

The words were as much of a shock to Akutagawa as they were to Atsushi. He didn’t apologize. Ever. For any reason. But this time... this time he needed to.

Akutagawa looks away as Atsushi looks up. He can’t handle the emotion in Atsushi’s eyes. “Why are you apologizing?” Atsushi asked earnestly.

God. He didn’t want to elaborate. Already he felt humiliated. “What more do you want me to say, Jinko?” he snarled, “I didn’t mean it. It’s not true.”

Atsushi rubs at his eyes with the back of his hand. Then, he reaches out and brushes his fingers down Akutagawa’s arm. Akutagawa shivers, going ridged. He would be haunted by that touch for days. He was always haunted by Atsushi’s touches. Atsushi doesn’t seem to notice the effect they have on Akutagawa’s very soul, which is just as well.

“Come inside,” Atsushi says with a snuffle. He motions into his apartment.

Akutagawa’s eyes widened involuntarily. “And why would I do that?”

There was supposed to be hostility in his voice.

There wasn’t.

Atsushi swallows and he seems to think about his words for a moment. “I want to talk,” he says, a blush dusting his cheeks.

For some reason, Akutagawa blushes, too. He clears his throat and walks inside, feeling exposed even though it’s Atsushi’s apartment he’s walking into and not his own. Once again, he should be leaving. But he isn’t.

Atsushi closes the door behind him, then steps in front of Akutagawa, leading him inside, into the kitchen.

Akutagawa doesn’t look much. It feels too personal to, but Atsushi’s apartment is sparse. That doesn’t surprise him. Atsushi didn’t seem to want or need much.

Atsushi motioned to a chair at the table. “Do you want a drink?”

Akutagawa looked at him with a slightly suspicious slant to his eyebrows. Why, exactly, was Atsushi being so calm and accommodating when he’d clearly been sobbing his eyes out only ten minutes before. And because of him no less. “What do you want to talk about, Jinko?”

Atsushi sighed, then sat across from Akutagawa. He bit his lip in a way that was almost cute, not that Akutagawa would ever tell him that. “You’ve never apologized before.”

“I went too far,” Akutagawa admitted.

“Yes, but...” Atsushi seemed to puzzle over this for a moment, “Well, isn’t it the point to hurt my feelings?”

Akutagawa huffed. “No.” The point was to make him angry. Make him hateful. Surely if Akutagawa got Atsushi to hate him enough, then he would no longer love Atsushi. It had to be that simple.

“I don’t understand you,” Atsushi said. He leaned over the table and picked at a bit of lacquer on it. “If you didn’t want to hurt my feelings, then why do you say that sort of thing?”

“I don’t have to answer that.”

“You make it sound like I’m interrogating you,” Atsushi says, looking up for a second to look Akutagawa in the eyes, “I’m asking you as a friend, Ryuunosuke.”

There was no possible way that Atsushi could know how hard that statement hit Akutagawa. It took all of his energy not to react and still his breath stopped. He didn’t move, staring at a nondescript spot in the cupboards while he slowly recovered. A ‘friend’. He was Atsushi’s ‘friend’? How could that be? He’d been trying so hard to shove him away.

“We’re not friends,” Akutagawa said.

Atsushi studied Akutagawa carefully, then understanding dawned on his face. “You want to keep me away.”

Akutagawa scowled. He didn’t like to think he was that transparent.

Atsushi let out a scoff. Akutagawa wasn’t sure if it was a sound of disbelief or amazement. “You’re not gonna chase me off,” Atsushi said.

“Why not?” Akutagawa snapped.

“Because now it’s a challenge,” Atsushi said.

Atsushi met Akutagawa’s glare. A feel of a spark raced between them, a spark that made Akutagawa recoil and look away. He stood, fast enough his chair made a loud sound at being shoved back. “Do whatever you want. But we’re not friends.”

Atsushi didn’t move, waving his hand dismissively. “See you tomorrow, buddy.”

It was only because Akutagawa was already on the genkan that he hadn’t punched Atsushi. Or worse, kissed him.

#shinsoukokuweek #bungou stray dogs #shin soukoku #bsd #akuatsu

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soukokucchi · 5 years

Note

We're all loving drunk Chuuya blabbing about Dazai, but once, just once can we get drunk Dazai talking about how much he misses Chuuya? like, imagine, Dazai being drunk af and remembering how awful he behaved with Chibi, crying and laughing, making remarks about his hips or his tiny hands, bout how cute and kind Chuuya is,bout his soft hair asking himself what brand of shampoo he uses, with ADA in the background, holding back not to kill him or laughing their asses off. Help Atsushi. Ly btw 💗

I apologize for responding late to this, anoncchi. Your headcanons inspired me to write a short fic about them and I do hope you like it!

Yosano didn’t expect anything when Dazai had invited the members of the agency for a drink in an ostentatious bar right in the outskirts of the city with drinks ranging from the timeless old fashioned to the expensive ono champagne cocktail. The bar was decorated with displays she surely couldn’t afford with the amount she received from her paycheck—such were the line of chandeliers dangling on the ceilings and the leather coaches that appeared to be imported from Germany.

Apparently, the bar owner owed Dazai a favor for cleaning up a mess a few years back, and he decided to claim it today by asking for a free pass and drinks for the agency. They were given a VIP room along with the complete list of alcohols, particularly cocktails, served at the place.

It only took them an hour or two before half of the agency were already tipsy and blabbering about their own lives—Kunikida had started crying about his ideals and the lack of a romantic partner in his life while Tanizaki was trying to keep his sister away from molesting him. Surprisingly, Atsushi can hold his alcohol well, but it seemed like Dazai was already slowly losing in the haze of alcohol after two bottles of whiskey and several cocktails.

“Ah, this whiskey reminds me of the Hatrack,” the brunet said, his voice dripping with disgust and a hint of fondness. His eyes were closed as if he was breathing through his memories, trying to inhale the wistful ones that tugged a small smile on his lips. “He ordered this for me on my birthday and I hated it since then.”

“Yet, it’s the first drink you ordered,” Yosano commented as she took in every bit of the other’s expression. She had never seen Dazai without his mask and at this moment, she was in the front seat to witness his vulnerable state.

“Well, I guess, that’s Chibi’s impact. He’s the one with the expensive taste.”

“I still can’t understand how you two were able to work together in your mafia days when you’re so different from him.”

Dazai smiled upon her words—he can still clearly remember every single mission he spent taunting Chuuya just to earn his attention, the days when he had to take care of him after he used Corruption and the torture he had to go through because of his overprotective sister figure. “It works simply because we trust each other.”

“But you said you and Chuuya-san hated each other!” Atsushi suddenly interjected before taking a shot of tequila. His mentor could only smile at his claim, but Yosano can clearly see the glint of hurt in his eyes.

She had no clue why Dazai would feel such emotion when he had always said that he couldn’t stand Chuuya and he hated spending time with him. There was no way that brunet would feel hurt from being reminded that his ex-partner hated him the same way he did. It wouldn’t make sense.

“Atsushi-kun, I don’t really hate Chuuya,” Dazai started, breaking the doctor of her thoughts and earning the attention of the rest of the agency. “You see, I’ve been in love with him for more than five years now.”

And then, it dawns Yosano that Dazai had never known any other kind of love except the one he had for the ginger. He had been bottling up his feelings with the excuse of being emotionally constipated when all along he wanted to shout on the rooftop that he was indeed in love with his Slug. But between being a former mafia executive and a traitor, he would only endanger not only himself but also his ex-partner.

“You’re helpless,” Kunikida groaned. “Chuuya-kun wouldn’t fall in love with you.”

“I know. You don’t need to rub salt on the wound, Kunikida-kun. I perfectly know how much Chuuya loathed every part of me.”

“You don’t get it,” the blond said after he smacked Dazai on the head. “Chuuya-kun could be in love with you, but he can’t tell you that right now.”

“Why would—I don’t understand.”

“It’s because you’re destroying yourself for loving him. He would want you to love yourself first before loving anyone else.”

It was the night of the full moon when the agency learned about the real Dazai Osamu and his definition of love—Nakahara Chuuya.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #dazai osamu #nakahara chuuya #soukoku #skk #double black #dachuu #dazai x chuuya #skk fic #my fanfic #drunk dazai au #asks

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blackandwhitemusician · 6 years

Note

Atsushi for character meme please! I love your character analysis!

Thank you so much for the ask! Let’s talk about our lovely kitten Atsushi ~

What is your opinion of this character? If you like, explain why you like him/her.

I adore him! I used to think he was a typical shounen protagonist at the start, but my opinion of him changed the more I learned about him. It’s not just because of his tragic backstory, either. I love how flawed he is, and how desperately he wanted to be of use to someone. As the story progresses, his attitude also went from “I need someone to tell me I deserve to live” to “Everyone deserves to live, including you, and I will prove it with my story”. I’m sold, man. Baby grew up so fast.

Is he/she important to the general plot?

YES LOL HE IS THE PROTAGONIST.

But really. Atsushi serves as a very good narrator. He understands little, but strives to learn a lot. As the story accelerates, we also witness Atsushi’s increasingly rapid growth. I also think he serves as an observing point for Dazai, for the reader to look at Dazai through the eyes of someone who is new to the world, and for Dazai to look at the world through a new pair of eyes. Atsushi’s appearance and the official activation of his ability also set into motion various conflicts and interested parties, most notably the three-way conflict and the search for The Book.

Can you relate to this character at all? Does he/she grip you emotionally?

I do relate to him to a certain extent. I used to struggle a lot to find my worth. Ya know, like I feel that I’m no good, and maybe I don’t deserve to be in another person’s life. It’s easy to be too occupied with your own pain and feel like you’re the only one suffering, but Atsushi has matured enough to realize that he is not alone, and he can still have a meaningful life by forgiving himself and forming positive connections with other people.

Atsushi’s struggle to overcome himself has been an emotional journey: I admit I was caught off guard by the headmaster’s sudden death. But that was also a perfect turning point for Atsushi’s character refinement. All his life, he had someone to hate and blame for his lack of self-worth, but now he had to pick up the pieces himself. He had to decide to live fully and not just for the sake of revenge on those who had hurt him. That was for me a rare moment in manga where the main character suffers a downward trajectory in their character development after considerable growth, an all-time low that almost renders all their previous progress meaningless. Seeing Atsushi being confused as to whether he should laugh or cry was emotional for me, too. We can see how lost the poor child is, and how he struggled to redefine his motivation for living and fighting.

Do you ship this character with any other character? Or, are you particularly intrigued by his/her relationship with any other character(s)? (romance-wise or platonic)

I adore his interactions with Dazai, Akutagawa, Kunikida and Kyouka. Atsushi went from feeling inferior to Akutagawa’s display of power to wanting to change his reckless ways, and I’m so proud of him for that. He also internalized what he learned from Dazai by teaching Kyouka to unlearn darkness and embrace the light instead. The way he acts as an intermediary between the strict Kunikida and the irresponsible Dazai is hilarious. Kunikida also seems to always soften around Atsushi. And of course, Atsushi’s interactions with Dazai is the basis for the start of our story. I love how Atsushi respects and admires Dazai, and how Dazai pushes Atsushi to break out of his shell. Atsushi shows his most vulnerable side around Dazai, which allows Dazai to get through to him and properly give him advice. In return, Atsushi slowly learns how Dazai’s jokes are a front to hide his inner thoughts and feelings, and even takes baby steps to try to understand him better. They just have a lot of good influence on each other, and they never fail to make me smile.

Is there anything about the character you would change?

Hmm not anything in particular. I did have tiny issues here and there with how Atsushi keeps reverting to his self-pitying ways even in the current arc, but it’s just personal preferences.

If you were in the fandom with this character or knew this character in real life, how would you see yourself interacting with him/her?

I WOULD PET HIM. OH BOY I WOULD PET THE HELL OUTTA HIM.

Does this character make the cut as one of your all time favorites (if you like) or least favorites?

He would make it in my top 10!

Would you hype up this character (if you like) or warn about this character (if you dislike) to someone new to fandom?

I don’t think he needs any hyping up, really. His development in the manga is truly remarkable.

Is this character popular with the fanbase?

Yes! Everyone wants a cute soft kitten in their lives ~

#character meme ask #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd atsushi #BABY KITTEN #bsd dazai #bsd kunikida #bsd akutagawa #bsd kyouka

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izanyas · 7 years

Text

Payoff

BSD, Soukoku, Dazai & Ango. Sequel fic to @catsbythegreat‘s story debt, in which after Dazai’s defection, Chuuya has Ango delete his partner’s record and make it so he can’t be tracked down. Thank you @scarlet-blossoms for the beta!

Rating: T Words: 5,400 Warnings: references to child abuse.

Payoff

Dazai throws Chuuya the knife with thoughtless habit. He doesn't need to aim, doesn't need to care that Chuuya will cut himself on it, doesn't care about the dark of the basement or how his feet slip on the dust that Chuuya's destruction has caused. Chuuya catches the knife by its handle without missing a beat and without flinching.

It doesn't strike him immediately, that he's done that. That Chuuya could read the lack of intent on him so easily.

When it does, he forces a chuckle past the defensiveness rising up his throat. "You should know," he says, and he doesn't remember what he's even talking about.

Chuuya clicks his tongue impatiently and turns around. Dazai wants to look anywhere but the silhouette of him walking away; his eyes catch at Chuuya's shoulder, where his hair is thrown messily—longer than…

He looks away.

But Chuuya turns to face him suddenly, and his face is dark with emotion again, though not the same kind as the shaking of anger, excitement, worry that he's demonstrated before.

"No one caught you, right?" he asks.

It takes a shamefully long second for Dazai to understand what he means. He forces his shoulders to sag and says, "Of course not. Why, want to make sure no one could if you couldn't?"

Chuuya scrutinizes him with downturned lips. He's silent, focused, and the sight isn't unusual but it's also different.

Chuuya at twenty-two looks and acts the same as he did at eighteen. Dazai doesn't doubt that he's matured, is persuaded that the executive's position Chuuya now boasts is more than well-earned, that Mori must have gained a trust in him that he never thought he could when they both acted like children. But Dazai also knows that Chuuya will always rise up to the challenge of him. No amount of maturity can change that.

Dazai taunts, Chuuya snaps back. This is how it goes.

Chuuya's face has thinned, his eyes have darkened, the posturing he did as a teenager now sticks to him like a second skin, natural and easy. But his straightforwardness is real. His emotions run genuine. He's always been made of tougher stuff than Dazai; the lifestyle they once shared will never get under Chuuya's skin the way it did his own. Now with the years the image Chuuya makes isn't a perfect fit. It's similar enough to be recognizable, to be played; it's different enough that Dazai feels something clench at the pit of his stomach.

Dazai wants to smile at the thought, and he also wants to clench his teeth hard enough that his jaw breaks.

He doesn't know what Chuuya sees on his face in that moment. Dazai used to be able to read Chuuya like an open book, but his mind remembers less than his body; Chuuya's expression is inscrutable.

It makes him feel vulnerable in ways he hadn't expected.

"Right," Chuuya says. He sheathes his knife, secures his coat atop his shoulder where his—longer—hair is resting. "Now get that place looking like a kidnapping happened and get the fuck out of here."

Dazai plays Chuuya a little, after this. Makes him ridicule himself, tears an honest laugh out of the bleak depths of his own chest. Just to prove that he still can.

He's not sure whom he's proving it to.

This question—no one caught you, right?—stays with him, and Dazai doesn't know why. He knew his assumption that Chuuya had looked for him was wrong even as he made it, because Chuuya would've been too busy fuming that Dazai said nothing at the time to even want to see him. Dazai doesn't think Chuuya has spared a second's worth of his time in trying to find him.

So he doesn't know why Chuuya asked at all.

(Dazai remembers Chuuya in superposed images:

The colorful flash of a young woman's clothes as the man who smells like death tugs him along the wide halls of the port mafia's headquarters for the first time, pace brisk, and it's all cloudy because Dazai is high on painkillers for his leg and the burns along his shoulder blades that shift painfully every time he leans on the crutch, but it's not enough that he doesn't notice the little boy she is holding loosely. The information travels at a snail's pace to his brain, so they're already past him and Mori when Dazai turns around to look and meets the surprise-open face of the boy with red hair—

The red glow on Chuuya's body once the old man who teaches English at their school turns around, and Chuuya floats up, scowling, until he can crawl on the ceiling and escape through the open window right beside Dazai's desk. That is until Dazai reaches up to tickle the skin between sock and pant hem and Chuuya crashes painfully on top of him, swearing like a sailor—

"Cut your fucking hair," Chuuya says after Dazai falls for the third time because he can't see in front of him with one eye wrapped shut. They're twelve and Dazai is taller than Chuuya now, but it's night, they're out of the city, traipsing through a muddy riverbank until they're completely filthy with it. The dirt covers the taint of blood that won't come out from under their fingernails no matter how hard they try, and there's laughter trapped in their chest, almost as painful as sobs. They ache with it.

"Grow yours," Dazai replies, and Chuuya rolls his eyes, but he does.

Dazai remembers Chuuya's fist connecting with his face, the crack of his bones under such small, powerful hands, the spar's referee making a face and saying, Again, because that's what Mori told him to do.

He remembers Chuuya getting angry instead of sad, filling the heavy silence inside him with white-hot rage in a way Dazai will never achieve. He remembers spying on Chuuya's room in Kouyou's quarters just to annoy him and witnessing a fight that was not his to witness. Remembers discovering that not all is green on the other side of the pasture as Chuuya goes to bed without undressing, face red with shame, fingers swollen and bleeding from a grown woman's discipline.

He doesn't make fun of Chuuya's fancy gloves after that. He knows the scars underneath.

The phrase childhood friend is not one that Dazai feels he can use to describe Chuuya. Every good memory is weighed down by ten bad ones. Every stolen smile they've shared breaks in the face of all the times Dazai has hurt Chuuya or let Chuuya hurt for him, all the times Chuuya has worked out his own pain through sparring with his full strength even though he knows Dazai can't compete, leaving Dazai bruised black and blue.

It doesn't change the fact that Dazai still knows the feeling of Chuuya's hair under his fingers when Chuuya falls asleep against him, vulnerable like he never is with anyone else; knows how to make Chuuya laugh and how to make him cry; knows how much of his slow fall from empty to emptier came once he stopped looking at Chuuya to look at work instead. He remembers Chuuya smiling at ten and he remembers Chuuya glaring in silent worry at eighteen. He doesn't think he can ever forget.

Chuuya is a vivid reminder that he can never have this: a boy to call a best friend, to traipse through mud with at nighttime, to fall asleep next to. The facsimiles they created are stained with violence, and Chuuya is embedded between Dazai's ribs not like heartache, but like a stab wound.)

Maybe Chuuya was worried, Dazai thinks, which is absurd, because he knows Chuuya was worried.

Maybe Chuuya's stopped making sense to him, is what he doesn't want to think about.

Kunikida is the Director's liaison with the special ability department most of the time. When Kunikida is unavailable, the role falls into Dazai's hands almost sweetly.

Dazai personally thinks that Yosano or Ranpo could do it, but one would interrogate him about it over their weekly drinking, and the other only needs the incentive to want to look and see what Dazai wants no one to look at.

As it turns out, Kunikida is busy.

Spring is an amusing time of the year because half of the office has allergies, and if one of them sneezes then all the others do by reflex. Dazai has induced quite a few sneezing chains during downtime, and Naomi can look innocent all she wants, but Dazai knows a prankster when he sees one.

Kunikida has a mask over his mouth and nose because both his hands are too busy writing and typing to bother covering his face and avoid spitting in everyone else's; his voice is curt, a little rough, when he says, "Just go, Dazai, Sakaguchi's been waiting for ten minutes already."

Dazai stretches his arms above his head, digs his behind further into the formerly neat stack of paperwork he's sitting on. Kunikida is too tired to even glare at him for it. "But I don't want to see Ango."

"Well I don't want to have to see your face every day, but here I am, aren't I?"

Dazai grins, is about to reply in kind, but someone touches his shoulder and gently pushes him off Kunikida's desk. Atsushi doesn't look apologetic at all once their eyes meet. He picks a folder from the stack Dazai has ruined and says, "Dazai-san, just get to work."

And, well. Atsushi is very hard to say no to.

So Dazai drags his feet to the booth at the entrance of the office floor from which Ango has probably heard everything, sits down in front of the man, and doesn't try not to let his impatience show.

The bright fury and ache he felt when he met Ango again months ago are easy enough to hide, now. Dazai makes this effort at least. Ango's gotten the message already.

Ango clears his throat, opens the purple folder he was holding in front of them and points to the map in the middle of it. "We've tracked the stolen data there, but…"

Dazai hums. "That's port mafia property," he says, eyeing the map.

"Indeed," Ango replies. "Which is why that's all we can do for you. And why I highly recommend you drop this case altogether."

Dazai picks up the folder—doesn't smile when Ango pulls his hand back as if scalded—and cradles it in his lap, trying to think.

Ango doesn't let him. "Dazai-kun," he drawls, in that same concerned-condescending tone he's always used and which used to make Dazai laugh but now makes him want to spit bile, "the department really would like to avoid any further all-out conflict between the agency and the mafia."

"Too much work?" Dazai mutters.

"Too much risk," Ango retorts. His face is pale and tired. He looks thirty-five, not twenty-six, and Dazai has to snuff out a spark of something too close to sympathy inside of him, despite everything. "Between the two of you, you possess way too much destructive power. I shouldn't be telling you this, but…"

Dazai lifts his head to look at him. Ango looks sincere, but he did back then as well. There's no telling how sincere Ango is in any given situation.

"We were lucky that you focused your efforts onto getting rid of common enemies these past few months," Ango says heavily. "And that your conflict about Nakajima was resolved through individual fights rather than an all-out war." Dazai almost looks behind, almost seeks the shine of Atsushi's hair as if to make sure he's still here, as Ango continues: "The department can't do anything to shut either of you down because you both have a permit, but we are only the surface of the government's actions toward gifted individuals."

"You think I don't know that?" Dazai replies evenly. His fingers are caught between the pages in his lap, paper digging into the pad of his thumb.

Ango looks pityingly at him and says, "I don't think you do, no."

Dazai is so surprised that he doesn't react when Ango's fingers reach for the folder and take it back. The paper cuts against his thumb, draws a drop of blood to his skin that he sucks into his mouth absently. The taste is as familiar as sugar.

"Sorry," Ango whispers—about the cut.

He immediately looks guilty for saying it.

Dazai almost, almost feels too angry not to respond.

"The special ability department can't—and won't—do anything to stop you even if you declare war on the mafia again. But that's all I can promise." Ango tugs at his collar and looks through the window. The crawling vine that covers this side of the building has grown thick with the warming weather, and sunlight pours green and gold through its leaves and onto his face. Ango's eyes flutter for a moment as if he hasn't felt this sort of warmth on him for eons; and Dazai's mind offers to him a similar sight, whiskey on his tongue and muted yellow light overhead, as three friends relax on uncomfortable bar stools.

He swallows, slow and easy, so his throat won't knot up. "We need the data erased, though," he says. "For our client's safety."

The spell is broken; Ango turns back to him, looking severe and exhausted. "Stop accepting clients who get tangled in the port mafia's messes, then. But don't break into their facilities."

"It wouldn't be the first time. I'm sure I can squeeze in some leniency from them even if they catch me." Dazai's smile aches. "My previous boss still likes me very much, after all."

"And how long do you think Mori Ougai's leniency will last?" Ango questions, teeth clenching almost unconsciously. "I do hope you're not naïve enough to think his offer to have you back was more than a ploy to beat your opponents of the time, Dazai-kun."

Dazai isn't. He doesn't think Ango knows Mori like he does, however. He sits back into the couch, sighs some of his tension out, and crosses his arms across his chest.

"Can you do it?" he asks, looking directly into Ango's eyes, and Ango tugs his glasses up deliberately slowly before answering.

"You know perfectly well that we can't even consider the thought of encroaching on mafia property."

"Miss being the arbiter, don't you?" Dazai smirks joylessly. "How I wish I'd been there to see your boss hand that permit to Mori. I bet Mori laughed until he couldn't breathe."

Ango's face doesn't twitch, but Dazai reads the truth of his assumption on it anyway.

"As I said," Ango says, breaking away from Dazai's eyes. "You'll just have to tell your client that they're free to hire any private contractor to retrieve the data instead of you."

"Sure." They both know no private investigator will risk encroaching on mafia property either.

Dazai waits for Ango to move out of the way so he can rise to his feet as well; his mind is already set on letting Kunikida deal the blow of this response to their client and on what he can do to occupy his afternoon in the current lack of pressing matters.

But Ango doesn't move.

When Dazai throws him another annoyed glance, he says, "There is a way," in such a low voice that Dazai has to strain to hear it.

"There is?"

Ango broods in silence for a moment. His eyes roam over Dazai's face thoughtfully, his fingers toy with the edge of the pocket where he probably keeps his phone; then his shoulders sag, and he says, "Follow me."

Dazai doesn't hesitate.

He doesn't need to, but he texts Atsushi quickly to let him know he's gone. Atsushi is so bad at using phones that he probably won't notice for hours anyway, so it's as if he hasn't told anyone at all. Dazai rather likes the thrill of following someone he hates into the unknown with no warning.

Kunikida will notice, but will be too busy to care for a few hours anyway even if he disappears.

Once they're out of the building, Ango walks away with a look that orders Dazai to stay put and takes his phone out of his pocket. Dazai feels strongly enough about being ordered around by Ango that he almost steps close to listen in anyway, but refrains; it's more interesting to try to guess who Ango might be calling. His face is pinched, his voice too low to discern any specific tone. He doesn't look comfortable, but he doesn't look scared either.

Dazai quits his quiet compliance when Ango cuts the call and gestures to his car. "No thanks," he says. "Wherever we're going, we're either walking or taking the train."

Ango eyes him tiredly. "I'm not going to cause a car accident to kill you. Not my style," he adds, bitter.

"Forgive me if I'd rather not give you the opportunity," Dazai murmurs.

"Dazai-kun, I wouldn't—"

"Don't finish that sentence, Ango."

Ango shuts his mouth. The sound of his teeth knocking together isn't as satisfying as Dazai thought it would be.

"Fine," Ango says, and Dazai wonders how much longer he can push this man before he snaps.

Ango tells him that he needs to fetch something at the offices he occupies when he's in Yokohama. "I'd offer to drive you to the meeting point, but since you don't want to, I'll let you go alone," he declares. "I need to drive back to Tokyo."

"Meeting point?"

"Someone from the port mafia owes me a debt. They agreed to retrieve the data for me." Ango takes a slip of paper and a pen out of some hidden pocket in his jacket and scribbles an address down quickly. "Here. They should be there in an hour, so don't be late."

"How do I know this isn't a trap?" Dazai asks, mouth twitching. He doesn't take the paper.

Ango throws him a look so heavy with irritation that he can't help but smile.

Of course, Ango ends up coming with him. They stop by the department's offices, and Ango spends a cigarette's lifespan upstairs while Dazai waits at the bottom, leaning silently against a wall. He comes back down with a thin file caught under his elbow and without his tie.

They walk tensely in the warm spring sun. Dazai feels a tad regretful that Ango doesn't seem to have allergies himself, but it stands to reason that someone who once played three gifted agencies at once would have a solid constitution. The trees lining the sidewalks have bloomed pink and yellow; the stroll would be almost peaceful if it were anyone but Ango walking by his side. Dazai watches the shifting patterns of shadows on the ground and doesn't say a word.

He doesn't care much what sort of debt a low-ranker of the mafia owes to the special ability department's advisor. He doesn't care much about Ango in general. That weakness died with Odasaku's last breath. But it's his job, and the situation is curious enough that it staves off the boredom.

The meeting point, as it turns out, is by the docks, nearer to the beach than the port itself. It's just outside of mafia territory but Dazai tenses anyway; in these parts of town there's always someone watching.

Dazai is in the process of wondering what sort of idiot set a meeting between mafia and ministry here—what sort of a fool Ango is for accepting—when he hears, "Sakaguchi."

They both breathe in at the same time, Chuuya coming out from behind a shipping container's shadow and Dazai stuck in his tracks watching him with no time to school his face into something less telling.

They don't stay like this—frozen in place staring at each other—for long. Chuuya's fury turns to Ango, and no one could've stopped the way he throws himself at the man, grabs his collar and shoves him against the ridged side of the container. The thing bends under the weight that Chuuya has given his motion.

Ango cries out from the shock but doesn't have time to speak—Chuuya leans into him and says, "You told him?"

"I didn't," Ango replies between his teeth. His glasses are askew, his forehead shiny with sweat. "Nakahara—"

Chuuya drops him, looking stung. It's a miracle Ango stays standing at all, but he manages, under Dazai's surprised staring. The file he was holding is on the floor. He bends down to pick it up.

Chuuya has his back to Dazai now, so Dazai walks to Ango's side to see him properly. His coat is on his shoulders but he's made without the extra layers today; all he's wearing under is a white shirt, no waistcoat or jacket.

His face is red, for some reason.

"Chuuya," Dazai greets.

He barely gets a glance in answer. Ango holds the file out and Chuuya snatches it from his fingers without a word, and when he makes to give the USB drive he's holding to the man, Ango shakes his head, looking toward Dazai.

"Is that the data?" Dazai asks lightly.

Chuuya's glove makes a small leathery sound when he tightens his grip on the drive. "It's what Spectacles told me to get him."

He hands it over, however reluctantly. Dazai takes it from him and doesn't allow himself to think about the way Chuuya's fingers shudder at his touch.

"Well," Ango says. They both turn to look at him. "Now that this is settled, I'll take my leave."

He doesn't wait for an answer and doesn't offer for Dazai to follow him. Dazai can't pay too much attention to Ango's retreating back when Chuuya is standing right next to him, anyway.

He slips the drive into his pocket. Looks sideways at Chuuya. Finds that no, his appearance hasn't become less striking in the weeks since their last meeting. Dazai knows that Chuuya cuts the most impressive silhouette at night, when the glow of his power rushes over his skin and makes him look less human; but even in tranquil daylight, even standing between rows of rusted ship parts, Chuuya catches the eye. A shiny thing for a magpie's nest.

So of course, Dazai says, "I almost didn't see you coming, shorty."

"That's because you've become dull and mindless," Chuuya replies instantly. He makes a hissing sound then, too angry to be a sigh. "Whatever."

Dazai realizes, when Chuuya turns around to leave, that he doesn't want him to.

"Why did you owe Ango a debt?" he asks.

It seems to be the right thing to say, because Chuuya stops, and his foot digs deep into concrete. "None of your business."

Dazai's head is rushing. Chuuya's words and actions since they've met again run through his mind in loops, in sequences, broken down to every breath and every movement, every standstill and wordless agreement. "Isn't it?" he presses. Chuuya is tense as he looks over his shoulder, blue eyes prudent and embarrassed.

This is definitely the most interesting thing Dazai's seen all day. Possibly all week. And he spent the night pouring over Yosano's research notes.

"You don't owe debts," he muses aloud. "You've always avoided owing anything to anyone like the plague. Everyone owes you, Chuuya, not the other way around."

"Why do you even care?" Chuuya growls, annoyed now. "So I owed this guy one. Big deal. We're even now."

"But you didn't want me to know about it."

"I didn't want anyone to know about it."

Dazai smiles. "No," he says, stepping forward. Chuuya turns toward him fully, tense as a bow; his collar is open and Dazai can see the press of tendons under his skin, at the crook of his neck. "You didn't want me, specifically, to know about it."

Chuuya wouldn't have reacted so violently if it didn't have anything to do with Dazai. Dazai's always been the exception to all of Chuuya's careful control; the screw that finds its way through skin and bone and twists.

He's level with Chuuya now. Chuuya is looking up at him with a frown, angry in a usual, comforting way, but his face is still flushed. His silence too careful.

"What did you do?" Dazai asks.

"Why do you care?" Chuuya snaps back. He still looks flustered.

Dazai huffs, amused. "It obviously has something to do with me. Come on, Chuuya, just spill. I'll figure it out eventually."

He expects Chuuya to relent, then, because Chuuya always does—always did. Dazai asks, Chuuya refuses. Dazai asks again, Chuuya accepts.

This is how it goes.

Chuuya's lips thin into a smile, and he says: "Figure it out, then."

He steps backward, just enough so he can turn around. Dazai hadn't realized how close they were. Chuuya's coat brushes against his torso when Chuuya hoists it up his shoulder, and for a second his hair threatens to do the same with Dazai face; Dazai holds his breath as if that'll prevent him from feeling how soft it is anyway.

No one caught you, right? Chuuya's voice had said. Surprisingly hesitant and hopeful.

"Did you help me?" Dazai doesn't understand the words even as they come out of his mouth, but they must be right, because Chuuya falters just long enough for Dazai to grab him by the wrist and pull. Chuuya is too graceful to stumble, but the step he takes not to fall into Dazai's body is still messy.

He tugs at Dazai's grip, clenches his teeth. "Fuck off," is his answer.

"Chuuya." There's no helping the confusion spreading through Dazai. "What did you do?"

"I said figure it out—"

"I just did." Dazai squeezes Chuuya's wrist to be contradictory; he's not surprised to find the end of Chuuya's knife digging menacingly into the fabric of his waistcoat in return, right above his heart. Chuuya isn't meeting his eyes anymore but Dazai can't find satisfaction in this alone. "Tell me what you did."

"Feeling off-balance?" Chuuya asks mildly. Dazai gives a short tug on his arm, as if trying to push Chuuya closer and make the knife cut into him—and Chuuya curses, stepping back, lowering the knife immediately.

He shouldn't find it endearing. As it is there's warmth in his chest in spite of the confusion, because this is familiar. This is usual. Chuuya refuses to hurt him outside of agreed-upon combat, no matter that Dazai has hurt him that way before. Dazai lets go of Chuuya's wrist and lets his finger hook into the hem his glove for a second, knuckles pressing into warm skin, a gesture from his childhood that he doesn't have to think to make.

There's a lapse of still time before Chuuya shakes him off.

The silence that follows is less charged with energy. Dazai breaks it by saying, "You had Ango help me."

Chuuya glares at him.

Dazai's heart is beating painfully against his ribs. "When?"

"Don't act like you don't fucking know," Chuuya snaps.

Chuuya's never been ashamed of helping Dazai, which means that whatever he did clashes against other loyalties of his. And there's only been one time in Dazai's life when he's been in need of protection.

Maybe Ango was right to call him naïve, he thinks shakily.

"You're the reason I was never found," he says. "You had Ango stop the government from tracking me."

Dazai had traveled the country without stopping for two years after leaving. Sleeping in hotels or out in the streets, using fake papers and a fake name, working small jobs that only paid in cash. Dyeing his hair a different color every month.

He had known that it wouldn't be enough at the time; he had expected to be busted out of all the hiding places he took within days; but weeks went by, and months, and years; when he came back to Yokohama, no welcoming wall of bullets waited for him.

Dazai had put it up to luck or incompetence at the time.

There's a smugness to Chuuya's face now that wasn't there before. Dazai realizes belatedly that it's because his mouth is open on his own surprise, and he shuts it too quickly. "Ango wouldn't have accepted," he says, and he knows he sounds accusing.

Chuuya shrugs. "Believe what you want, Dazai."

"He wouldn't have wasted a debt from you on something as stupid as getting me data from a client," he continues. "This doesn't make any sense."

"Sakaguchi never did make any sense to you, did he?" Chuuya mutters.

Dazai steps forward; Chuuya steps back. They look at each other in silence, both of them knowing that in a contest of physical strength, Dazai can't do anything to stop Chuuya from leaving or knocking him out and abandoning him here to be found and devoured.

"You're so sentimental," he says softly. Chuuya's face colors on anger, so Dazai pushes. "You talk big, but it turns out even you can become a traitor, Chuuya."

"Don't fucking call me that." Chuuya's voice is lower and rougher than Dazai's ever heard it, hot with disgust and shame. "I'm no traitor."

"What do you call helping a traitor escape then?"

"I call it helping a friend."

Dazai's breathing stills.

Chuuya doesn't look angry so much as pitying. "I knew Sakaguchi would agree to help because he fucking cares about you." He rubs a hand over his face and breathes, hard, into his own fingers. When he opens his eyes again, they're more tired than Dazai has ever seen them. "God knows why."

Dazai doesn't know how to reply to that.

The shadow is stark here because the day is so light outside; in it Chuuya's hair looks a dark blond and his eyes a deeper blue, and Dazai knows, suddenly, that he's been fighting himself over nothing for a long time.

Chuuya doesn't step away when he approaches this time. His gaze is weighed by suspicion but his stance is relaxed and open. Dazai puts a hand on Chuuya's shoulder, and Chuuya tenses, but doesn't move.

"I thought you were angry that I left," he says.

"Of course I was," Chuuya replies. "Mister big fucking shot executive, calling yourself my partner and running away when things get a little tough." His words aren't as harsh as they could be, and they both know it, but Dazai lets the lie slip and tightens his grip over cloth, muscle, bone.

Chuuya is so warm.

"It was a stupid decision," Chuuya mutters, looking somewhere under Dazai's chin.

"I would've died if I'd stayed," Dazai says. Sincere.

"I know. That's why I did what I did, asshole."

He has to laugh at that. "So you thought I was stupid, and you've always wanted me dead, and you helped me anyway. What does that say about you?"

"Can't you just be grateful and shut up," Chuuya groans, swatting Dazai's hand off his shoulder to step back. "It was a stupid plan, but it was the first thing I'd seen you do for yourself, and I wasn't gonna let anyone fuck with that."

The warmth in Dazai's chest feels tight now, pressurized almost to the point of bursting. He doesn't know if it'll do so through vile words or honest tears, so he doesn't answer.

It's easier to look at Chuuya's mouth and then his eyes and say, "Shall I give you a kiss as thanks?"

Chuuya takes just a second too long to reply for the thought to have been swiftly dismissed, but his voice is even. "Just get the fuck out of here, Dazai."

Dazai bows dramatically, as much to annoy Chuuya as to hide his own grin. Chuuya is walking up the side of a pile of containers when he straightens up, body facing the sky.

"Chuuya," Dazai calls.

Chuuya turns his head toward the ground. "Mmh?"

"Thank you."

He means it more sincerely than he's ever meant anything.

Chuuya's hair is in his face, floating a little from the gravity shifts; the low light of the dock masks the imprint of fatigue on his skin and makes him look like a child, the grin he gives Dazai that of a twelve-year-old boy rather than a twenty-two-year-old mafioso. His features change from handsome to young, his hands from leather-bound to covered in mud.

Chuuya has never hesitated to call Dazai a friend in a privacy of his own mind.

"You'd have done the same for me," he says, and the blade of his existence leaves Dazai's ribs at last.

The stab wound starts to scab.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #soukoku #nakahara chuuya #dazai osamu #fic: payoff

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tinyavenuesailor · 7 years

Text

I want to say I love you but...

Inspired by @pearlidab (If anyone is interested in proofreading this message me please)

*Warning of sexual and mature content*

*Beware of memes*

“I like you Dazai, please go out with me.” The words echoed in Dazai’s ears. He swore he heard wrong for a second but he couldn’t deny that he did with his subordinate standing in front of him looking like his face was going to erupt at any second like an active volcano.

He wanted to just save Atsushi the heartbreak and just reject him right there. He wouldn’t be the first to confess and he probably won’t be the last. Whether he rejects or accepts it depends on his mood but one thing that never changes is that they never stay. No one really stays. He can’t meet their expectations, male or female. “I’ll be in your care,” He should feel guilty from the amount of hope and happiness on Atsushi’s face that brings tears to the boy’s eyes. If only he knew that he was doing this so, he would learn how bad of an idea it was. He’ll fall out of love. He’ll let go.

Atsushi didn’t let go. He hung on with his frail fingers like his life depended on it even when it looked like it was going to snap him in half, destroy him he still kept hanging on. Dazai thought Atsushi was just in denial, trying to see him as something he wasn’t but he stayed, Atsushi took him as he was even in the worst of moments and somewhere along the way Dazai started clutching onto Atsushi. If only he could say what he needed to say now.

Dazai combed his fingers through the soft gray choppy mess on Atsushi’s head. Atsushi snuggled into Dazai trying to get comfy on his spot on the couch so he could read the book Tanizaki lent him. They were alone and relaxed. Everything felt so right maybe now was a perfect time. “Atsushi,” Dazai started to catch Atsushi’s attention.

“Dazai?”

“You know I….” he was about to say it and then he was it hot with those gorgeous yellow-spotted purple eyes. His heart stopped and his hands went clammy. He was choking. He was choking!. “I umm I…”

“Dazai?” Atsushi moved to sit up and look at him.

“I ummm I heard about this abandon amusement park where people go to commit lovers’ suicide.” Shit he did it again.

“Hmm,” Atsushi hummed and glared at Dazai. “What happened to your goal of committing double suicide with a beautiful woman?”

“Who needs a beautiful woman when I have a stunning lover like you,” Dazai doesn’t know how he could shoot such a cool smile and feel like such an idiot at the same time. What the hell was he saying?!

“I don’t need to commit suicide with you,” Atsushi went back to laying down on Dazai. “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been with you.” Dazai felt his heart stop for a second time this really wasn’t good for his health. He shouldn’t get caught off guard by this attack he needed to keep it together. This was the perfect moment to follow up.

“You must really like me.” Wow, just…. Wow. The perfect line to say to sound like the self-centered bastard everyone already thinks he is. There was no recovery from that one.

“I do,” Atsushi blushed into his boyfriend’s chest. And of course instead of responding he sits there with his mouth open and his face flushed like he was a five year old with stage fright performing on the stage for the entire school. “ Dazai?” Atsushi looked up at him from the lack of response.

“I-I-I ahhh hungry!” Dazai quickly slipped out of the couch accidentally dropping Atsushi with him.

“Hungry?” Atsushi looked puzzled at Dazai’s behaviour.

“Yeah, snacks! I’ll make snacks!” Dazai quickly hurried away.

“Wait, Dazai,” Atsushi stopped him. “The kitchen is the other way.”

“I need to use the bathroom first!” Dazai dashed out before he could embarrass himself anymore and locked himself in the bathroom. “What the hell is wrong with me?” Dazai hissed to himself. He’s flirted with many women, seduced them even once in a while for the sake of his job when he worked with the Port Mafia and he was no older than a teenager! Why couldn’t he just tell Atsushi how he felt. Tell him that he appreciated him that he loved him. Honestly, just the thought was causing his face to burn like a fire. He felt like an utter failure. Atsushi was supposed to be the shy reserved one but he didn’t seem to have any problems saying his feelings yet Dazai could barely get out the first word before yelling out some flirty line he didn’t want to say. Dazai looked at himself in the mirror. He was a blushing mess no he was a complete mess.

Today! Today he would do it. Maybe he couldn’t tell Atsushi he loved him but there must be someway he could get through to him. Dazai’s solution was memes.

“Hey, Atsushi,” Dazai interrupted Atsushi at his hard work and motioned him over to his table. Atsushi looked at Dazai wearily before giving in and going over to him. “Look at this meme I found…”

“Okay that’s kind of funny,” Atsushi laughed. Dazai loved hearing the sweet ring of Atsushi’s laugh it had a sweet ring to it but this time around was a little disappointing. It hasn’t gotten his point across.

“How about this one?” Dazai swiped to the next picture.

“Awhhh,” Atsushi cooed. “That’s so sweet.” Dazai felt like he failed once again. “I need you to send those to me later but for now do your work Dazai.” Atsushi quickly went back to his desk and got working on his report. This was going to be harder than he imagined.

He was a failure, a complete and utter failure. An entire week and a half of memes trying to show Atsushi how much he appreciated him and loved him and not one got through to the weretiger. He even ditched the meme gig sometimes and just tried to straight out say it but well he doesn’t really want to remember how that went. You think you can’t make an even bigger fool out of yourself only to find that nothing is truly impossible. Dazai sighed.

“Dazai?” Atsushi asked noticing Dazai’s glum state. “Is something wrong?”

He honestly wished he could tell Atsushi but… “No, just tired.”

“You sure,” Atsushi placed a comforting hand on Dazai’s shoulder.

“Just tell him.” It could be so easy. “Yeah,” Dazai sighed and stood up from his chair. “I’m going to run some errands before I go home so I’ll see you later.”

“Ah, okay,” Atsushi nodded and let Dazai leave without another question. He couldn’t figure out why it was so hard to say Well, no that was a lie he knew exactly why it was so hard to say. This was the price he paid for regretting all his emotions for over twenty years. He was barely able to keep it together when Atsushi showered him with sweet, loving affection that even his kid-self was starved of. He didn’t know how to give proper affection, he didn’t know what to do with these new feelings. He could easily take hundreds of people lives, help save the city but he couldn’t tell the most important person in his life how he felt. Maybe he just needed to take a step back, he loved Atsushi but why?

Well, how could he not? Atsushi wasn’t only beautiful, funny and sweet. He was straightforward and honest in everything he did. When he acts there’s rarely any ulterior motive. He always looked for the best in people even if it made him naive at times. He wears his heart on his sleeve and and and… was it bad to say that he loved a person because he just loved him.

Dazai closed the door behind him. It seems that Atsushi was home from the set of familiar shoes placed neatly at the doorway. He began to take off his shoes when a savory smell hit his nose. Crab? Dazai followed the beautiful smell to the small dining room. A set of plates and utensils carefully laid out onto his table. A beautiful setting for a dinner for two and the orchestrator of this carefully planned out dinner setting down the source of the smell, his boyfriend Atsushi.

“Dazai!” Atsushi smiled as he noticed his presence and finished placing the crab dish down. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dazai sauntered over to Atsushi not taking his eyes off the dinner. “What’s all this?”

“Well you seemed to be a bit down today so I thought I might cheer you up. Tada!” Atsushi made jazz hands toward the food. “I know how much you love crab, don’t worry I bought it. I also got some sake the cheap local stuff though. It’s cooling in the fridge I can go get…”

Dazai quickly grabbed Atsushi’s arm before he could run off, “No you don’t need to.”

Atsushi face dropped, “Do you not like it? Is it too much?”

“No! No! It’s just…,” Dazai looked at the dinner again. “This looks expensive.”

“It’s no big deal,” Atsushi shrugged. “I had money saved up.”

“But…”

“Really, Dazai it’s nothing. I can treat you from time to time.”

Dazai felt his lips part as he tried to find something to challenge the soft, loving smile on Atsushi’s face directed towards him yet nothing could come to mind. He was weak, vulnerable. A large aching pain in chest and spreading through his body, his throat contracting as his body quivered in fear. “You really love me don’t you?”

Atsushi looked taken aback by the sudden question but as expected his eyes melted and that beautiful smile spread across his lips. “Of course I love you.”

His lungs seemed to have forgotten how to function with his odd breathing patterns and then the tears burning behind his eyes finally came pouring down. Dazai clasped a hand over his mouth to keep the soft cries from escaping his mouth. “Dazai?!” Atsushi began to panic as he was witnessing Dazai not only crying for the first time in is life but also having a breakdown. “Dazai what’s wron….?!” Dazai jumped up to embrace the weretiger startling the latter.

“Ple-ea-a-se,” the shaky words slipped out of Dazai’s trembling lips. “I just need you.” Atsushi limbs went slack. He didn’t question, he didn’t say anything he just allowed Dazai to clutch onto him as he cried silently.

The bed creaked, hot touches were exchanged, soft whimpers, curses and grunts echoed through the room. Dazai had his head buried in the crook of his lover’s neck as he rolled his hips up into Atsushi. “Dazai,” he hears the soft whimpers leaves the weretiger’s mouth. A fist buried in his hair pulling the strands while another hand on his back clawing into his back from ecstasy creating fresh long cuts. Atsushi was a shy, quiet person in bed but he was honest. His body was honest. He didn’t need to speak, his movements did all the talking. The legs locked around him that tried to force him to go deeper, the way weretiger’s hips would buck up to meet his. They told Dazai all he needed to know. “Dazai!” Atsushi cried most likely from the slow movements driving him crazy from pleasure. It felt good. It felt too good. Should sex feel this good? “Shit!” Dazai cursed. “I love you!” He keeps the steady pace driving every feeling into Atsushi. “Shit! I love you!” Tears begin to stream down his face with the overwhelming amount of emotions filling his head. “Shit! I love you! I love you! I love you!”

“Dazai?” A soft voice whispered. Dazai felt his head being lifted and soon found himself looking down at Atsushi. His beautiful Atsushi with a bemused look on his face as if he was mystified with the state Dazai was in. Dazai was curious. What kind of face was he making to give Atsushi a look like that? Atsushi gently wiped away the tears staining Dazai’s face with his thumb and then guided their foreheads to touch. “You don’t need to hold back. Give me everything.” Dazai felt his core shake with the words that left Atsushi’s mouth. “I’ll take it all so give me everything, Dazai.” Atsushi said all with a graceful smile. Dazai bit his quivering bottom lip feeling the heavier tears pouring out of his eyes. Atsushi made soundless screams as Dazai plunged harder and harder. He watched every whimper, every beg; taking his time to study every detail of Atsushi withering under him till the beautiful moment he releases. Dazai wasn’t sure if Atsushi knew how happy he was in this moment with him.

“Atsushi?” Dazai said out of an instinctive need when he felt himself waking up. The sex they had was intense. He didn’t think love-making could sap so much energy out of someone. He didn’t even want to get up after that nap right now he just wanted to cuddle with… “Atsushi?” Dazai wondered why he couldn’t feel a body on the other side of the bed. “Atsushi?!” There was a small amount of fear building in his chest.

“Dazai?” Dazai found Atsushi standing at the door in his boxers and Dazai’s shirt puzzled.

“Atsushi,” Dazai said in relief. “I was wondering where you were.”

“Sorry, I went to go put away the food.”

“That’s right I ruined your beautiful dinner.”

“It’s okay we can eat later,” Atsushi shrugged.

“Come here,” Dazai whispered getting fed up with the amount of distance between them. Atsushi climbed onto the bed and let Dazai guide him into his arms. “So much better,” Dazai chuckled.

“Dazai?” Atsushi caught his attention. “Do you want to talk to me about it?” Dazai muscles tensed and accidentally let the uncomfortable, embarrassed look slip onto his face. “It’s fine if you don’t,” Atsushi gave him a sad smile.

“It’s not that I don’t,” Dazai explained. “It’s just that… argh! It’s really hard to say.”

“Does it have to do with how weird you’ve been acting as of lately?” Atsushi asked.

“Yeah,” Dazai sighed.

“Hmm…Maybe this can help,” Atsushi sat up and reached for his phone on the night table. Dazai cocked his head to see what Atsushi was doing. “Ranpo sent me some memes I thought he just wanted to show me,” Oh no! Dazai knew where this was going. “But now…. well here.” Atsushi showed Dazai the screen.

The redness on Dazai’s face increased by three hundred percent. He should have figured Ranpo would get involve some time soon. Regardless, of how many times he says he doesn’t care he still pulls shit like this. “And then this one,” Atsushi swiped the screen.

“Maybe I should have gone to Ranpo for meme advice,” Dazai thought, “Where do you even get such ultra specific memes like that?”

“Dazai?” Atsushi looked at him patiently waiting for an answer.

“I..” Dazai started and stopped. “You… I can’t… argh… I don’t know how to tell you how if feel!” Atsushi flinched back at how fast Dazai blurted everything. “Every time I just try it’s like I end up making an entire fool of myself like I can’t even get past the first word and then I end up saying this stupid flirtatious line or asking about suicide and….” Dazai stopped when he heard sounds sounding like laughter as in Atsushi was laughing!

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Atsushi tried to wave Dazai off when he got an appalled look. “I just sometimes forget that your such a dork!”

“A dork?!”

“I mean you want to tell me that you love me but get so nervous that you can’t even get the first word out and then you resort to memes,” Atsushi laughed harder.

“What’s wrong with memes?!” Dazai protested. “Everyone speaks the language of memes!”

“That they do,” Atsushi wiped away the tears and smiled at Dazai.

Dazai fell back into the bed and groaned, “I’m a mess.”

“You’re not.”

“Yes, I am! I finally get this wonderful person into my life who cares for me and loves and makes me want to actually give a damn and I can’t even remotely explain my feeling on how empty my life would be without them!” Dazai threw his hands up in the air and let them land on his face. It took him a few minutes to register what he just said.

“You really think that about me?”

Dazai sat up and carefully stroked his hand over Atsushi’s cheeks as if he would break. “I do,” Dazai admitted and breathed in deeply. “Atsushi, you’re everything to me, you mak-e me feel so loved an-d,” Dazai choked on his words as tears streamed down his face, “and I’m so happy with you in my life. I want to show you but I don’t know what to do with all these emotions or how to respond to your affection and I….” Dazai sighed. “I just feel lost.”

Atsushi was rendered speechless. He’s never seen Dazai so defenseless, so exposed. It was a side of Dazai he had to explore, a part of the elder usually hid from him. “Dazai,” Atsushi wiped away the tears. “You don’t have to push yourself I know you love me. I don’t know if I’m saying this right,” Atsushi rattled his head, “but you don’t need to bend over and push yourself to reach me. I’ll meet you where you’re at.”

“Meet me where I’m at?” Dazai felt like something heavy was lifted off his chest. Something he didn’t realize was weighing him down.

“Yeah, we can just take it one step at a time after that arugh so if you need memes to tell me how you feel until your comfortable vocalizing it then you should use memes,” Atsushi explained. Dazai stared at Atsushi bewildered. “Sorry did I say something wrong?”

“No,” Dazai shook his head. “I just have an intense urge to make love to you again.”

Atsushi flushed a deep red and bowed his head in shame, “I’m sorry, my heart can’t handle that twice in one day.”

“Ah,” Dazai said actually wondering if his own heart could take it. He was weak to this loving, understanding boy. Atsushi may not know the power he holds over him or grasped how much he means to him. He wanted more than anything to tell him with those words. “Atsushi, I l…,” those purple eyes flickered up to him and his mind went blank, “I umm I like to commit a lover’s suicide with you.” Dazai’s head fell in defeat to himself. So maybe that day won’t be today but it could be tomorrow or next week or a couple of months or years. Honestly, who knows how long it will take.

Atsushi chuckled and cupped Dazai’s face, “I love you too.” A genuine easy smile spread across Dazai’s face. He’ll tell him someday for sure because he wasn’t planning on ever letting go of Atsushi.

#dazatsu #dazushi #dazai x atsushi #atsushi x dazai #written off the fly

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