#a case of bad luck

[voidcat]

— keep it under wraps

characters: dazai osamu/reader, (mentioned: yosano akiko)

wc & synopsis: 2.2k – Practiced crafts under years of experience comes like second nature, an extension of one's body, almost like breathing. Yet you find yourself like a newborn deer with its shaky legs, afraid of the world it is born into as you are tending to man whose body you've treated and familiarised with after countless times before. (minor wound dressing, nothing explicit)

notes: hello! long time no dazai writing. this one's special for me. originally, i thought i'd break my dazai-silence with something different instead we got this. if you're familiar with my series A Case Of Bad Luck, you can take it as an extension of it (-cannot blame me for wanting to start with a fic for my favorite ongoing series ahaha.) It can be read independently but it's implied reader and Dazai have met in the past, long enough to have left an impact on each other. Leaving Yokohama and returning years later, this is their first proper confrontation/acknowledging one another.

The day’s peace is interrupted by sudden commotion by the front door.

5 minutes prior Dr. Yosano receives a call which results in her now forgotten cup of tea. From the sounds you can hear in the next room, you can make out the telltale signs of preparations for a possible operation. If you’re lucky it’s simple suture work at best, if it’s a bad day, she’ll have to use her ability.

And you hope, and pray if there’s anyone there, that it won’t have to come to this. Anything that further upsets and hurts her makes your stomach turn, leaving a sour taste and colder memories in their wake.

When the detectives rush in, she immediately looks over to divide their situations one by one. The information Kunikida provided beforehand helps with the makeshift triage, and within a blink of an eye, you find yourself alone in her office. Standing there under the bright light.

Before disappearing behind the door, she waved a hand off saying it was no hassle, that she can handle it herself, “You should attend to anyone else who might need assistance.” It is a simple request, a basic statement. But the look flashing before her eyes told you otherwise.

Worry pooling in her eyes, regret and an apology.

For what? You wanted to ask for a second but the faltered coughs coming from the room made you feel selfish for even holding her up for this long.

Dr. Yosano’s normally chatty room now contains you cold and empty. What is usually your escape and solace now feels to be swallowing you.

You’re aware of him, his faint breaths but you make no move just yet.

Just a few more seconds of courage, just enough to push down your thoughts and memories from reaching the surface.

During the call, Kunikida had said it was one grave injury and one minor. And the first thing Dr. Yosano had asked was if they needed to go through with the plan.

You hadn’t even bothered asking then, maybe you should have.

Your silence only must have suspected more, her gut feeling proving closer to truth each day.

So to the grave injury she went, and to the minor one you- due to the priorities of the cases and because her ability wouldn’t have worked on him any way, so it was better to be doing a basic wound dressing.

You swallow once, thickly, your throat hurts. Behind you you can her footsteps towards the examination chair.

You allow yourself one more moment, close your eyes, take a deep breath in and out. Open them.

It’s been years since you’ve last been alone in a room with Dazai Osamu.

Ignoring his gaze on you, you walk up to the cabinet to get the materials you need.

It should be a basic injury, so the basics will do.

Legs swinging in the air, Dazai watches you with keen interest.

After months of dancing around the topic and ignoring one another altogether, there is a lingering curiosity in how things will progress from here on.

How much longer can you keep this up, is the real question. 

It’s been taking its toll on you lately, he can tell. Skeletons in your closet, you never let the past drop fully, always have to go back and tamper, seek out a pile of bones when in dire need of talking. Isn’t it tiring? Aren’t you exhausted?

You look nothing like what he last saw, maybe that’s an improvement, a small victory in your book.

You seem to have come a long way, moved on, moved away, started fresh.

Clearly not enough from how you came back all the way here.

To push away the standard practice and instead sign up to work under her, under the Armed Detective Agency.

Almost as if a part of you still seeks it.

“Good evening, sir.” You say the word wincing, force of habit. “Could you take off your coat for me?” you say, rest of voice unfaltering, practiced decency and greetings to the notch. Your eyes watching his every movement, you wait for any sign of pain to locate the wound.

Maybe it’s not as much of a standard treatment. You do call everyone here with titles rather than names after all. You keep a distance, closest you are with is the doctor and even then you don’t drop titles of respect and the walls separating you from everyone else.

Dazai is uncharacteristically silent- for his persona he has crafted and wore here at least. It is unnerving to a degree but not the first time you’ve had to endure this thick silence in the air, lingering, waiting for any sign of weakness to suffocate its victims.

Or it could be just that. Lost in thoughts. If you recall the details, he wasn’t in charge of this case originally, but as it grew and the roots spread, more focus was shifted its way.

Something appearing innocent in the mirage of a ball of cotton and sinking anyone foolish enough to approach it with no caution.

There are many examples of this in nature- angler fish, rafflessia, a peculiar man wrapped in too many bandages for his own good hiding secrets and burdens too much for his body to contain.

Dangerous beings, predators lying in wait.

You take Dazai’s hands and inspect each digit, forearms and up to his shoulder.

On his left arm the gauze has gotten crimson red, smelling of iron.

Slowly your hand trails down and finds the start of the gauze tucked under the wraps as your eyes roam his torso for any signs of multiple injuries.

This isn’t proper examination, not really.

You should’ve checked his breathing too, looked for his intercostals, listened to his lungs, asked him what had happened and where else he got shot.

Yet you’re aware the attempt would’ve been futile, from the moment his coat was off and your hands were on him, you knew there wasn’t anything else. 

Sometimes you think, and fear, that you know his body better than your own.

Unwrapping the gauze with sharp and precise movements, you reveal his forearm. 

Still littered in cuts and patches of dry skin here and there. He must be wrapping it too tight at some areas because the body hair has grown at uneven lengths there. 

After all these years he still cannot do his bandages himself, but tucks the end just the way you do.

Something about the notion makes your heart ache.

It stings, to think how much yet how little has changed.

Your fingers still dance on his skin with the same precision, and his body responds with the same touch starved state, hairs on end for a moment until he adjusts to the heat coming from your body and care coming from your hands.

It intrigues Dazai how despite everything, even from the very start you still hold him like something delicate, fragile, handle him with care one would only have for something they value greatly- even if not that grand, there’s still care to an extent.

You hold the materials with a confidence now, Dazai notes. Boldness of someone who knows what they’re doing, you’re swift as you lay down what you’ll be needing, you open few packs of gauze sponge and pour iodine tincture without taking them off yet. Place them side by side, cut strips of gauze and nonwoven plaster, already calculating how wide you’ll need each piece- an extra cut in the middle of each, he notices.

His wound is nothing big, even left with his preexisting bandages, he would’ve been fine- or so he said until Kunikida started going on a lecture about infections and what-not. Big deal! If the universe wishes for your paths to be clashing so soon, well he will have no complaints. 

Satisfied with the set up, you wash and disinfect your hands again.

This is the same routine you’ve always done, know by heart, hands moving on their own. It’s fascinating how muscle memory resurfaces even after so long, the bodies and the nerves are truly amazing. It comes to you as second nature by now, to undo his bandages, look over for any signs of concerning signs, even in the dim lights you can tell apart what is his body’s usual and not. 

Grabbing the first gauze sponge, you wipe the wound off with one swift motion, toss it to the side and grab another one. Starting from the center of the wound, to the outside you wipe it in one circular motion, toss this one when you’re done with it and wait a few seconds.

Placing a smaller one on top of his wound, your hand then mindlessly goes for the pieces of plaster and you apply them carefully over the gauze. Not too tight nor loose- enough to let the wound breathe, your fingers linger a moment too long on his skin when you’re done.

With a slight shake of your head, you retract your hand immediately and reach for the gauze strip.

Despite all the discordance and circumstances out of your control, it’s the small routines that have helped you keep you somewhat grounded, to keep going. And despite being one of your greatest sources of said disturbances, Dazai had become a part of the said routines as well.

As familiar as the night time, his presence had become something comforting, as all kinds of feelings swirled like an impending storm from within, ready to burst out of your chest at any given time. 

There was nothing normal and everything odd with your run-ins with Dazai, were you to think about it. Each one weirder than the last, and growing into something much twisted, roots of the ivy digging deeper, maybe it’s the unfamiliarity that brought comfort, the change that comes with the unknown. At nights, you had some resemblance of a control. At nights, it was just your room and the bright, faraway lights of nearby signs illuminating your room, he fitted right in instead of standing out. Eyes trained on your body, silent and waiting for your signs. An illusion maybe but a taste of control nonetheless. 

You’d like to think he enjoyed it somewhat too, the opportunity to observe you in a shade tad different, inspect a side to you you’re yet to experiment with. 

And each night, you chose to hold out to him that beacon of compromise, an olive branch, restocked on gauze in the house- not that anyone noticed it lessening in amount.

It’s the same hands moving then, with the same routine like a ritual on themselves.

Yet you’ve grown, and changed. Your eyes no longer carry the same light of empathy as they once did. You’re more distant now, tried your best to keep him at a arm’s length so far, and it worked to an extent.

If that’s how you want to play, then fine, he’ll play along. It’s only so long until you lose control again.

And when it does, it’ll be Dazai who’ll be there in wait, the only one to know how to handle and cradle you, how to assess the situation to the best of opportunities.

You wrap the area of his wound and the rest of his arm separately. Firm in your touch, you tuck the end of the gauze despite fixating it with an extra piece of plaster.

“Your wound will need redressing and inspecting to see how it has healed.” You give notice.

With a nod of his head, he flashes one of his smiles, not reaching his eyes. “Thanks, there!-” 

“Doctor.” you correct him, the word leaving your lips like cold metal.

“Well, thanks doc.” Dazai says, his smile morphing somewhat wicked. Now the edges of his mouth crooked, lids dropped slightly and a hint of poison to his voice, the man you’ve known comes oozing out of the cracks he so carefully filled.

You can never fix something to where it was, nor cover up the cracks with polish. There is no as “good” as “new”, it’s either, and even then the judgement depends entirely on the experience and the person.

“We’ll be seeing you later, then.” you say, to bid him away. And for once, Dazai complies without resistance, his smile never faltering and eyes never leaving yours, ‘I see you, and I see this gimmick you’re trying to pull.’

Hopping off the stretcher, he reaches for his coat with his uninjured arm, not bothering to button up his shirt; he stops by the door, hand stroking your bandage work for a moment. 

Neither of you make a comment on the lack of time you’ve given him to come visit Dr. Yosano’s office again. After all old habits die hard, and both of you still remember the specifics as clear as day.

A part of you wishes to yell then, or push him by the chest, say there’s no pretending, that this is who you are, truly, at heart, that you’re a good person with nothing left to hide now. 

Regardless, if it’s a show he wants, you’ll give either way- you always do. And with sharp eyes he'll wait for you to squirm and fall, and once more you’ll stand tall with your head held high, chest heaving with the weight of his gaze. Sooner or better, you’ll accept his fingers are intervening within the strings of your fate.

[pangur-and-grim]

I updated the breeder on what's been happening, and she called Belphie out for being bald

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

Danny Fenton, aka Phantom, has been given a new task!

In short, literally no one in the Ghost Zone/Infinite Realms wants their mostly peaceful afterlife to be rocked by a certain Gotham rogue named Joker. Which, when he dies, is almost sure to happen because of whatever the hell was in that vat he dropped in included ectoplasm. So, yay, he’s also a little ghostly too, meaning he *is* pretty hard to kill. Unfortunately, there’s also a certain vigilante that is quite keen to murder him in recent years.

So now Danny has to keep the mass murderer trauma clown alive for as long as he possibly can while attempting to keep the Joker from. Well. Being the Joker.

Oh, and naturally, Danny got this assignment AFTER Joker got out of Arkham. Again. And entirely blew up the asylum. Time to join the Goonion, he is NOT doing this without getting PAID, thank you.

[tech-two]

My favorite Techza headcanon is Phil realized he was in love the moment Technoblade got anviled

[saintshigaraki]

having like....a terrible terrible string of bad luck and having to crawl back to your ex getou (or kaiser.....maybe) and the way he just clicks his tongue in mock sympathy. opens his arms so you can climb into his lap and weep all your pain away while he soothes you

[psilliguykai]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MR JASH !!!

No clue if this is any good lol - I started this evening and it’s midnight now, so it was admittedly a tad rushed, but I really wanted to get something out there for this :]

I know you’ll almost certainly never see this, and it’s highly unlikely I’ll ever bring myself to post it on the evil bird site in which you reside [/vsilly], but thank you Mr. Jash for all you’ve done for me and the rest of the community. Your music means so much to me and so many other people, and I know it’s helped me at least work through my own issues ^^ plus, massive inspiration and motivation for me to get back into art [and learn to draw people, which I’ve only done and started enjoying because of your music] !!

A little more yapping + original image/context under the cut!

Had a lot of fun with the colors and textures on this one. Again no idea if it turned out well [and I am fairly certain the anatomy is a little fucked lol] but it was super fun to work on :D

The text in the background is simplified Mandarin Chinese [Hanzi]. Literally all it says is “happy birthday to you!” Over and over lol. No big meaning or anything, just a fun visual feature :]

This drawing is actually based on the image below (hence Jouse, which I was very happy to finally have the chance to draw, as well as the weird cake lol). I tried so damn hard to find the original image and I couldn’t, so I’m using a meme-ified version @rinrin-5409 sent me this morning. Thanks Rin! :3

[spinji]

Showed a friend World Heroes Mission and I think they cracked the code

[the-bitter-ocean]

(ACT 3/4 OPTIONAL ACHIEVEMENT SPOILERS) Wanted to practice more writing and decided to do this quick drabble based on this illustration that @startagainaprologue made for his isat randomized roleswap au! Writing is under the cut:

<You wait for her to touch you.>

< As you stand there and wait you are suddenly hit with a realization.>

< A very obvious one, if you’re being truthful with yourself. >

< She will never be the one to reach out to touch you first. >

< Euphrasie is polite like that.>

< It isn’t to say that she’s afraid of touch. >

< Quite the opposite, actually.>

< Euphrasie is nothing like you.>

< You’ve seen her for dozens of loops hug the people in your party.>

< She enjoys showing that type of affection to others. It makes her happy.>

< She will always hesitate on giving it when it comes to you.>

< Even though you know now what she wanted to say to you.>

< You know you know you know but it can’t be real until you put pen to paper.>

< You want it be the truth so badly. >

=> < Keep waiting. >

=> < Rewrite the script. >

=> < Keep waiting. >

< You wait. >

<…>

< Nothing changes. >

< Why? Why do you keep doing that? Why are you still waiting? >

< Is it really that enjoyable to revisit the same old story again and again? >

< Do you enjoy torturing yourself that much?>

< This will continue to go on like this if you don’t make the first step. >

< Ah, what did she say a few loops ago? “Be the change you wish to see in the world?” >

< Well, here you are. >

< You’re in the same spot as always. >

< She says the same lines. She reaches out to you- for just a moment before remembering her role. >

< She starts to lower her hand away.>

< You wish to change the way this ends. >

< There’s a common saying that repeating the exact same actions and expecting different results is nothing short of insanity. >

<…>

< So what will you do? >

=> < Keep waiting.>

=> < Rewrite the script. >

=> < Rewrite the script. >

((“Oh! Hello Odile! It’s very good to see-”))

((“…-You?”))

((…?!))

< You lunge forward.>

((“Odile? Are you-“))

((“Ah-!”))

< You embrace her. >

< Euphrasie feels warm and comforting. >

< Far brighter than the sun that’s currently shining down upon on the two of you. >

< You hold unto her. >

< You smile. >

< You open your eyes and look up. >

< Euphrasie is… >

<…?! >

< She’s frowning. >

< You freeze. >

< You quickly let go and move away. >

< You feel cold. >

< Why? >

<Why does she look like that?>

< Why why why why wh- >

< You feel a tug on your stomach and you- >

<……>

< “Hello, Euphrasie. After hearing what you said earlier…I wanted to conduct private investigation on the Favor Tree.” >

< “.. I’d like to get it done sooner, rather than later since we have a finite amount of time on our hands.” >

((“Oh okay! I don’t mean to distract you, Odile.”))

< She smiles at you. >

< You don’t make the mistake of smiling back at her again. >

((“.. So intense..!”))

((“ But in all seriousness, I'll let you go. See you at the Clocktower!”))

[aparticularbandit]

it is important to me that you understand that:

junko has no luck (and when she does, it's bad luck)

nagito has fantastic luck, but it always comes at a cost - for every moment of good luck, there is also a moment of bad luck; the higher the good luck he wants, the greater the sacrifice of bad luck he needs first (see case 5)

izuru has luck with no cost, which makes his luck better than nagito's; he's the inverse of junko, but his luck is downloaded, fake, contrived (like the rest of his talent is)

this must be combined with:

junko can calculate and anticipate anything provided she has access to the right dataset (the better she knows someone/something, the better she can manipulate them/it - this extends to talent as well; the more data she has on how someone's talent functions, the better she can imitate it, which is why she can't imitate ryota's animation as completely in the way that she wants (different talents have different rates in terms of how much she needs to analyze them, though))

nagito can deduce but he cannot mimic; he dabbles in manipulation, but he is much more of a servant to someone else's goals, which means his analysis is always in service to someone else (kyoko is similar but not quite the same; kyoko can get to the point of deducing fast enough to prevent things, which is a lot more similar to junko's analysis, just used in a different way; kyoko's more straight forward than junko is, which is why deduce and not analyze)

izuru's analysis functions the same as junko's does, except that he doesn't need to analyze someone else's talent to mimic it; he has had talent downloaded straight into him like neo in the matrix; if he wants more talents than the ones he already has, he's gonna need them downloaded again, probably

as a result:

junko's weakness is luck and incomplete data sets; an incomplete (or wrong) data set leads to a miscalculation, and when something relies on luck and cannot be precalculated or predicted, then junko falls. she relies hard on her analysis, which gives her a blind spot. (junko, however, is aware of this. that's why she has both nagito and izuru on deck; in the hope calculation that their luck, correctly used, will allow her to predict things that happen by chance as well)

nagito's weakness is his reliance on his luck. he believes in his luck. his luck will take care of him. he can't control how it works, and he can't control how the bad luck will happen or who it will happen to, but he doesn't need to analyze something for his luck to get him out of it (and the smaller the chance that something will happen, the more likely it will happen to him; his luck works on an inverse to everyone else's, basically, so what's the point of predicting things on what is most likely to happen when, for him, it will probably be the other way around)

izuru could cover his incomplete data sets with his luck, but tends to rely so completely on his luck to cover his ass that he stops analyzing and leaves himself open there - he should be the strongest of the two, but really tends to leave him with more weaknesses until he figures out how to use the two in conjunction; something junko has figured out but cannot do because her luck is not her own

[sm2k99]

it seems the timing's always wrong for the ones who wait too long you'll never catch a break you'll have to make your own

[serpentface]

What's the Wardi cultural take on Akoshos sleeping with/partnering with/marrying other Akoshos?

It's not highly regulated to a degree that there are overwhelming cultural norms about it. There's a lot of societal focus on akoshos being theoretically suitable sexual partners for both men and women due to being dual-gendered, but not to an extent that relationships with One Another are stigmatized.

They also largely get to escape from the most severe concerns about penetrator/penetrated power dynamics because they're not regarded as Men (they're regarded as dual-gendered, and they're a female social class on every practical level), there's no status of manhood to Lose by receiving sexual penetration. The only real thing you see in that department is people assuming that one acts as 'the man' and one acts as 'the woman', but this is largely due to preoccupation with a notion of sex being Penetration With A Penis (and that Penetration With A Penis means that one person is in a Man's Role and one person is in a Woman's Role). But this will not be regarded as unnatural as in same-gender male relations, akoshos will Have to take up a position in this sexual dichotomy if they want to have Real Sex (Penetration With A Penis) with each other, and this is not unnatural and doesn't involve gaining or losing status since they are simultaneously male and female, not men.

So like you might see individual culture critics finding stuff to nitpick about it as their annoyance of the week or a singular Guy here or there who thinks it's weird, but this isn't a widespread norm. The vast majority of people don't give a shit about akoshos having sex with each other. The worst thing you're likely to experience Solely by virtue of being in an akoshos-akoshos relationship is someone asking you (probably with genuine curiosity) which one does the man stuff and which one does the woman stuff.

Akoshos also don't experience Hard expectations for marriage (though there are societal pressures that make marriage an attractive safety net all the same, ESPECIALLY marriage to a man) so unofficial life-partnerships between akoshos are pretty much the Only same gender partnerships between unwed people that are going to go unquestioned. ((Sworn brotherhood is technically a same gender life partnership for men that is Functionally similar to marriage (in that it's a kin-making practice between unrelated adults), but the tradition is Built upon the assumption that both parties will be married to women and that a primary goal of this kinship is to provide security for both parties' wives and children)). Marriage obligations in general are more lax in the economically secure but not Wealthy lower mercantile classes (as obligations to support and perpetuate one's family are universal, but these obligations can be filled simply by having at least One son who can get hitched, and marriages in the lower classes have no political functions and therefore there's less reason to ensure All your children are wed (there's still incentives like dowry, but this is not desperately needed when a family is economically secure)). So akoshos in this class group tend to have a Lot more freedom in terms of their life arrangements and chosen partners (though still experience the limiting frameworks of structural misogyny in other capacities).

The only thing that is out of the picture is akoshos/akoshos marriage. Marriage in this society has a predominantly reproductive function, the concept of reproductively non-viable marriages is generally considered absurd. This is not JUST this culture's form of homophobia, as marriage is a very practical arrangement at its core - both in a reproductive capacity and as bedrock for the patriarchal blood-kinship family system that forms the core social unit. The idea of same gender marriage isn't just absurd because 'ewwww weird' it's like, that Cannot work within this system, it Cannot fill core functions of what a marriage intends to do here, the ways on which marriage and kinship are BUILT makes same gender marriage practically (rather than just socially) untenable.

The sole exception to the 'marriage = reproductively viable" rule is that akoshos can be married to men (which in practice is almost always as a remarriage after a man has secured At Least an heir). This has a Little bit of internal logic here in that they perform predominantly female social roles (thus are suited to being a wife, even if they can't bear children) (and also on practical levels of them having the same legal status as women) but it's really more of a 'this is just how it's always been' kind of thing. A lot of the older pre-Wardi identity dual-gender roles that got mashed together under the 'akoshos' name would have involved marriage to a man as a second wife/concubine, in addition to his primary wife who would bear his children. Men potentially having multiple spouses has not been retained as a cultural practice, but the notion that an akoshos Can be a wife to a man has survived into modern day legal and doctrinal practices around marriage.

So like this being said, marriage as it is legally defined is only between a man and a woman, a man and an akoshos, or a woman and an akoshos. In practice the latter two are comparatively VERY rare- a man/akoshos marriage cannot provide children (though an akoshos can practically fulfill all other obligations and duties of a wife), a woman/akoshos marriage Can provide children (and while akoshos cannot function as a male heir, these children Will take their akoshos-parent's family name (though the wife retains her father's family name)), but akoshos are legally grouped with women in terms of rights and privileges (including being permanently under legal domain of their father unless they have been legally handed off to a male husband) and Cannot provide hard power patriarchal support that this family system is built upon and therefore depends upon, which makes these marriages socio-economically insecure. They can obviously still be a good partner and parent, but this is not the same as having the Legal hard power of a patriarch.

Akoshos marrying each other would be reproductively and socially nonviable, and is treated as a similarly absurd concept to a man marrying a man or a woman marrying a woman. It's just not a part of the marriage and kinship framework, it's not a thing that you can Do.

[bethrnoora]

that one's gotta sting

[mycatmoo]

Isat au where everything's the same except siffrin has nagito komaeda luck

Good luck following the script when the universe is actively working against stage directions bitch

[milolov3catz]

what is the Bad Luck Charm AU?

BLCau is a phasmo giggs crew au, in which Scar is considered a bad luck charm during their ghost hunting sessions.

Scar is a vex hybrid and that's why he's a bad luck charm, but no one besides Impulse knows. Hybrid aren't well accepted in their city, and most people consider them violent creatures that have no self-control, hence why Scar has to hide that part of him.

The story will be scar-centric, but i will post little one shots that will focus on the other members of the crew

Im drawing and trying to settle on a design for everyone and once they are done i'll post it and get on with the writing to post the main story (I'll post it on ao3 and here on tumblr!!)

[anchoredgalaxy]

a court of silver flames gets the award for book where i've said "god i wish everyone in this book would die" the most

[deoidesign]

I’m a trans man that recently got diagnosed with hyper mobile eds, so now seeing Steve makes me extra happy, because cool disabled ftm rep. Thanks for making the radical dude bro, he’s funky.

same disability (waving hand emoji)

Always extremely fulfilling to know my work makes people happy in some small way, it means a lot. Thank you for sharing with me